Ten Little Bloodhounds (21 page)

“Since we’re talking to each other now, I think that takes care of your first question. Surprising as it may seem, I’m not dodging your calls, Miz Sidden. We had an armed robbery at a convenience store just after six
A.M.
I’ve been working the case.”

“Did he drive away or was he on foot?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“You heard me,” I said calmly. “Humor me, I have a reason for asking.”

“On foot.”

“Did the description of the perp sound something like this: lone male, black, five-foot-seven to five-foot-ten, weighs around one hundred fifty pounds, loose T-shirt, jeans, and very expensive athletic shoes?”

“Right on the money.”

My heart began to pound against my ribs. This sucker had struck twice here, in Balsa City. We hadn’t caught him, but I had two frozen pads in the freezer in
the grooming room of the kennel that would nail him for two local robberies. Now to make sure it was the same one. I was already relishing the amazement that would be in Beaman’s voice when I sprang my surprise.

“Did he also wear a bright yellow bandanna tied over his nose like the old Western bandits, and come into the store clutching his own bank bag to carry away his loot?”

“Yep.”

“You don’t sound surprised at all!” I accused, suddenly smelling a very dead rat.

Sheriff Beaman roared a booming laugh. “Don’t stop now, Miz Sidden, I sure was having a good time. You know, Hank and I were sharing all-points bulletins on our various crimes long before you started training bloodhounds. We have helped each other from time to time. By seven this morning I recognized that Hank had some visits by the same perp. We had a lucky break. I had an officer cruising two blocks west of the robbery, as it was going down. He turned the corner, and there were three teenagers scattering in all directions like crows. He collared all three. We also found the money bag and bandanna less than a block away, stuffed down in a trash dumpster.

“I gather that Hank hasn’t told you about it. He said you’re in the hospital with an injured leg. He won’t be able to bring the dog and the handler over here until two, so we’re just waiting to find out which one of the three boys is the culprit.”

I was boiling, but held on to my temper.

“I’ve been out of the loop for the last few days.
Thanks very much for answering my questions, Sheriff.”

“Did you want to ask me anything else?”

“No … just checking. Talk to you later, Sheriff. Thanks again.”

“It was my pleasure,” he answered wryly.

Hank. That absolute worm! He was going to keep this from me, and Jasmine was aiding and abetting him! They were planning on sneaking Jasmine out this afternoon with a dog and identifying my perp. They had another think coming. I had spent long hours trying to trap that sucker, and they thought they were going to be in on the kill without me? No way. I punched in Chet’s extension at the agency in New York.

“This is Jo Beth,” I told him when he answered. I didn’t forget the code. “Bobby Lee is doing fine. I’m still at the hospital, but I’ll be home before noon. Have you heard anything new?”

“Good morning, Jo Beth, how is the new litter doing?”

“Great, I’m told.” It’s hard to be civil when you’re fuming. “I’ve read the reports that Jasmine brought up here Friday, and frankly, they’re skimpy at best.”

“I know, but it’s like I explained to you, we’re gathering information daily. My desk is piled high this morning. I’m going through the reports that came in over the weekend. I should have the information compiled by this afternoon. I’ll call you when I’m ready to fax.”

“Anything interesting in what you’re reading?”

“Nothing that raises any alarms. The Kingsleys,
Catherine née Cancannon and Lawrence, her husband, filed for bankruptcy last year, but withdrew it from court records less than two weeks later, and promptly paid all the debts listed, something like ninety thousand.”

“Auntie Alyce bailed them out.”

“Most likely, but we’re checking it out. Guess what they did the following week? They flew to Port Royal for ten days, while they both were unemployed, and ran all their credit cards up to the limit.”

“South Carolina, or Jamaica?”

“What?”

“It was a joke, Chet. You said Port Royal, like everyone in the world should automatically know its location, and I bet only less than ten percent of the populace knows it’s the former capital of Jamaica. I said South Carolina to show off my knowledge that there were two Port Royals … I was … It’s hard to explain a joke,” I snapped testily.

“I get it, I get it,” he chuckled amicably. A representative of a large estate with bottomless pockets is treated like a VIP, whether he understood my sarcasm or not.

“Just call when you’re ready to fax.”

“I sure will,” he returned and I hung up.

I sat and drummed my fingers on the phone held in my lap. Should I or shouldn’t I? I should. I called Hank.

“Hank?”

“It’s me. How are you feeling this morning?”

He automatically lowers his voice to almost a confidential whisper when he recognizes my voice. I had
always thought that he didn’t want any of the others who might possibly overhear his conversation to hear anything they could rag him about, like calling me sweet stuff or babe, some endearment. A new thought flashed in my mind. What if it was because he didn’t want them to hear because he was ashamed of me? It dried up my usual banter in a heartbeat.

“Honey, are you all right?” I hadn’t answered fast enough.

“A nurse just walked in, I’ll talk to you later.”

Suddenly I couldn’t bear to hear his voice.

Time dragged as though I were in solitary confinement. There was a great deal of traffic in the hall, and plenty in and out of my room. I sat like a sphinx, ignoring their chirpy greetings and disgruntled servitude. I asked for no riddles to be answered. Dr. Sellers arrived and departed, accepting my silence as punishment for being late. Jasmine loaded up what she could handle, and made a second trip for the rest of the baggage after I was installed in the front seat.

She shot quick glances at me from time to time, but didn’t ask me what was wrong until we were alone.

“Will you please unload the pillows, that roll of foam, and the dead flowers here at the curb?” I asked.

“Here?” She looked startled. “I can take them to the dump—”

“Here.” My voice was polite but firm.

“But it’s littering!”

“We are on hospital property. I feel no compunction to haul off unwanted items. They can cut costs some other way than trying to get their patients to do their
chores. They are being well compensated for my stay.”

“They’ll know it was you.” She was trying to change my mind, and sounded amused.

“Do you think they’ll arrest me for littering? I would welcome the challenge, I’d bury them at trial.”

“What’s gotten into you? You’re not acting like yourself. Anything I can do?”

“Unload the trash at the curb, please.”

She still hesitated.

I reached for my door, and cracked it open.

“All right, all right!” she said, throwing up her hands. She emptied the offending pieces and piled them neatly on the sidewalk. She slammed the van door on her return.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Her voice was harsh as she concentrated on backing out of the space. We rode home in stony silence. She circled the courtyard, and parked with my door in front of the stone path leading to the porch steps. She placed her hand on my shoulder.

“I know hospital rules really bug you, but you should have handled it differently.”

I ignored her remark and gave her a brief smile with no warmth.

“When Hank arrives, and you have the dog of your choice loaded to travel to Woodbine, please come and tell me. I’m going with you.”

“Oh boy,” she groaned. Jasmine realized that the shit had just hit the fan.

J
asmine was silent as she held open the screen door for me as I hobbled in on the crutches. Just letting my leg hang down hurt like hell. I pasted a serene look on my face and fought back a scream of anguish when I bumped it on the edge of the desk. I eased into my chair, knowing that Jasmine was only waiting until I was settled before she explained her duplicity in consorting with Hank.

She perched on the edge of the armchair in front of the desk and gazed earnestly into my eyes.

“Hank wanted me to help him do a lineup with the scent machine evidence. We both knew that you shouldn’t move around on that leg. Even Dr. Sellers told you that you needed another week of bed rest and to keep off of it.

“We knew that you would insist on going if you were told, so, yes, we agreed to sneak around and not tell you, but it was for your own good! You know, Hank
has the right to try and protect your health; he’s going to be in your future, and he loves you very much.”

I let my eyes widen, and a quizzical expression suddenly appeared on my features.

“Where in the world did you get that information? Have I given you any indication that Hank was part of my future?”

She closed her eyes briefly, and sadly shook her head.

“Don’t do this, Jo Beth, you can’t give him a reason to hope and keep yanking it back when he does something to displease you. All during your stay in the hospital he was worried about you, but floating inches above the ground with happiness that you were receptive and kissed him last Monday. Don’t toy with him and mess up this latest chance to reconcile. Hank’s the best thing that ever happened to you. I know you’re angry, but please don’t take this attitude with him. He deserves better, and I think you know this.”

The reason that her explanation made me so angry is that I knew she was perfectly correct. My stupid ego was bruised and their devious plotting had hurt me. My pride blinded me.

“Hank had no reason to assume he was in charge of my fate, or the kennel’s. It would be wise for you to reconsider if this problem ever presents itself again. I am the one that gives orders around here, and only me.”

My voice was soft and sad. I was full of self-pity.

Jasmine sat a few seconds, and suddenly jumped to her feet, yelling.

“Will you cut out this self-righteous crap! Curse me! Curse Hank! Vent your anger! Anything but sitting there with that damn martyred expression!”

Her anger fueled mine.

“But I feel so alone!” I wailed. I bit my lip. I didn’t mean to show my true feelings. I quickly held up my hand, trying to stem the compassionate feeling that was emanating from her in waves. The last thing I wanted from her was pity. I chose my words carefully.

“I don’t appreciate Hank telling you every detail of our love life, such as it is, but I will inform him of this when I next speak to him. All I want from you is that you continue doing the excellent work that you have in the past and follow only my orders.”

“My Lord,” she voiced with sarcasm, “it sounds like you’re willing to throw away our friendship of two and a half years for a silly and inconsequential misunderstanding!”

“We were good friends, weren’t we?” I said quietly, ignoring my yammering heart that was screaming at me to shut the hell up.

She sank back in her seat looking defeated.

“Do you want me to leave, is that what you’re telling me? Over this?”

“Of course not,” I said reasonably, “you do good work. As long as we understand one other and follow the rules, we can continue like this incident never happened.”

I lowered my eyes to my telephone messages lying in front of me on the desk. I pretended to be engrossed and ignored her continued presence.

“Incident?” Her laughter was hollow, chilling my soul.

She stood and drew herself up to her full height.

“I’ll stay until you’re back on your feet, and the puppies are out of danger.”

I didn’t look up or answer, and presently I heard her leave, closing the door softly behind her.

I heard the outer gate alarm at 12:30. I didn’t scramble to see who had come calling. If it happened to be Bubba and no one stopped him, then so be it. I felt lower than a snake in a ditch. My mood swung from morose to blinding anger at Hank. He had started throwing orders around before he even knew he was moving back in. I heard a few snatches of raised voices before Hank threw open the door and charged toward me.

“What in the hell do you think you’re doing?” he thundered when he placed his hands on the desk and towered over me, scowling. “Jasmine tells me that you’ve found out about the search; you’re mad at both of us, and want to tag along for the lineup. No way! You’re not up to it, and that’s final. I know damn well that you owe Jasmine an apology from her demeanor. If your leg is hurting you that badly, I need to take you back to the hospital. Now tell me where you have the frozen scent pads, which dog you’re sending, and I’ll go get them while you tell Jasmine you’re sorry.”

“I’m in charge during a search or rescue. If you can’t follow this rule, then the dog and the scent articles do not leave this kennel. Is that clearly understood?”

I had delivered this ultimatum calmly in a normal voice, and sat quietly waiting for his answer with a raised brow of inquiry.