Deadly Dog Days Read online

  Spook, the black cat that appeared out of thin air one day in my attic, helped, too. I didn’t know where he came from, but I figured he found a way in up under the eaves of the roof. He really was quite the phantom, disappearing sometimes for days only to curl up on my lap unexpectedly as I watched TV. I always left food and water out for him and wondered if he had another home somewhere that he visited when he left. Spook was a drifter who couldn’t be tied down. He was in the midst of a disappearing act at the moment, but I expected him back any day now.

  Down the hall, past the living room on the right, and into the kitchen in the back of the house, I took note of all the clutter and cleaning I’d let slide since nobody else lived with me. Mia would be sure to blab about it to Irene and Ben and Heidi, aka Wife Number One. Sometimes I wondered how Ben could’ve ever gone on one single date with me, let alone married me. I was so different from blond, tall, professional Heidi. She was a prosecutor and Ben was a cop, that’s how they met. They had so much in common.

  “You have no food in this house,” Mia said, standing at the open refrigerator.

  “It’s only me here. I eat out a lot.” I tugged open the pantry door. “Want a cookie?” Living two doors down from Grandma’s Cookie Cutter was convenient. Not for my waistline, but for my sweet tooth.

  “Oh. My,” Mia said, staring at my stacked boxes and tins of cookies. “There’s, like, a million calories in your cupboard. I can feel myself getting fat just standing here.”

  I shrugged as she spun away, horrified. More for me. I took a chocolate chip one out and shoved it in my mouth. I bet Wife Number One never had cookies in the house. Jenn Berg probably didn’t, either. Another blond. Being with me must’ve been a momentary lapse of sanity on Ben’s part—the only cookie-loving brunette in his life.

  “We’ll go out to dinner,” I said. “Call your grandma first.”

  Ben would be working on the Jenn Berg case most of the night and had told Mia he’d see her in the morning. I had a feeling with this investigation taking him by surprise, Mia would be spending most of her week with me.

  While she called Irene, I made my way upstairs to my bedroom to hide. The last thing this day needed was a dose of Irene Hayman. I left the light off and lay in the center of the rickety antique sleigh bed, staring up at the ceiling that countless Ellsworth descendants and spouses had stared at before me. I was neither anymore. Well, I wouldn’t be for much longer if Ben and I went through with our divorce. Then someone else would be sacked with the responsibility of the ramshackle old Greek revival on a canal that floods twice a year and needs painting and new windows. A new roof wouldn’t hurt, either. Central air would be nice. The furnace usually needed a good kick to get going in the winter.

  Yes, I’d leave, and if Ben didn’t move back in, Irene would need to sucker another member of her family into taking over this headache of a house.

  I ran my eyes along the crown molding and over the crystal light fixture, and couldn’t help thinking this house was a little bit like me and my bad knee and extra pounds: not too shabby if you can see under all the layers of dust and years of neglect. Nothing some fresh paint and a little exercise couldn’t cure for the both of us.

  “Cameron!” Mia yelled up to me. “Grandma Irene wants to talk to you!”

  I closed my eyes and stuck my lip out in a pout. “Tell her I moved.”

  “What?”

  “I’m coming!” I shouted, pushing myself up and throwing a pillow across the room. What did that old bat want from me now?

  Mia met me at the bottom of the stairs with her hand held out, offering me her cell phone. “Here,” she said, thrusting it at me like it was about to blow up.

  I took a deep breath and put the phone to my ear. “Hello, Irene,” I said, in my best fake chipper voice.

  “Why didn’t you people tell me my grandbaby was coming for a visit?”

  “Us people weren’t informed, either.”

  “I would’ve insisted she stay with me. Ben can’t keep her at Fiddle Dee Doo Inn, there’s not room. She shouldn’t have to stay with you, even if it is her house, or will be soon enough.”

  “I know you’re itching to kick me out, Irene, but can you at least pretend to hold back the excitement until the ink is dry on the divorce papers?” And people thought I was tactless.

  “Divorce papers? I didn’t … I mean, did Ben … ?”

  “No, he didn’t. It was a figure of speech. Would you like to take Mia to dinner tonight, Irene? Maybe keep her overnight at your house?” I crossed my fingers hoping for a yes.

  “Oh. Well. Tonight’s no good for me. I’m hosting dessert for the Daughters of Metamora’s progressive dinner. If I’d known ahead of time … well, but I didn’t, so there’s nothing to be done, is there?” She made a clucking sound with her tongue. “Shame about Jenn Berg. So many members have had to cancel tonight because of it.”

  For a second there I thought she was actually being sympathetic. Of course Irene would only be concerned about having too much leftover cake.

  “Which brings me to the point of our conversation,” she said. “I’ve heard rumors that you’re going to be taking those five smelly mutts from Carl Finch’s gatehouse and keeping them under my roof!”

  Just a moment ago it was Mia’s roof, or almost Mia’s. “I did say something about taking care of them,” I said, my memory of keeping Johnna from pilfering the gatehouse rushing back to me. Apparently that news had spread and become fact. I’d better get over there and pick them up.

  “I don’t want those dogs in that house! Do you understand me, Cameron? Not one paw!”

  Irene was heading toward full-on freak-out mode. “I’m sorry, Irene. Somebody has to take them in.”

  “They can go to the pound for all I care!”

  “Take it up with Ben. I’ve got to go now. Mia’s starving. Nice chatting with you. Bye, bye.”

  I jabbed at the phone, ending the call, and blew out a breath. I didn’t exactly dodge any bullets, but I didn’t take one, either. We’d call that a draw.

  Mia took her phone back and laughed. Actually, it was more like a mean girl cackle.

  I narrowed my eyes at her. “If you want to eat, you’ll stop laughing at me,” I said. “Call your dad and tell him to bring pizza over since he surprised me with your presence and didn’t give me time to go grocery shopping.”

  “Why don’t I take your car and go pick one up?” she asked, smiling sweetly.

  “You totaled your car and now you want to borrow mine? I don’t think so. Call your dad, please.”

  “You just want a reason to get him over here,” she said. “You’re using me to lure him back home.”

  Now it was my turn to laugh. “Never mind. I’ll send Andy.” The last thing I needed was to be out-maneuvered by a teenage girl. “You and I are going to pick up a few dogs.”

  “I thought you said a few dogs!” Mia shouted, being pulled across the driveway by a giant black Newfoundland with a nametag that read Gus.

  “Just don’t let go of that leash!” I had my own problems with a graying geriatric German shepherd named Isobel who kept snapping her jaws at me and growling.

  “How are we getting five dogs in your car?”

  My ancient Subaru hatchback was like my own personal sidekick. It wouldn’t let me down. “They’ll fit.”

  The dogs were kept in separate chain-link kennels outside the gatehouse. I wasn’t sure how much good they did as guard dogs being penned up, but what did I know about being a gatekeeper? At least their kennels weren’t locked. Unfortunately, the door to the house was, so I couldn’t get to their food. I’d have to stop and buy one of those big bulk bags of kibble. I never had a dog before, but how hard could it be? These guys didn’t seem too bad.

  Gus was a bit on the large side, but overly friendly. How could this guy ever be a guard dog? I patted his back, sinki
ng my fingers into soft fur. He nuzzled his head against my leg, almost knocking me down. His tongue lolled from his mouth, and I swore he was smiling. He was like a big, fuzzy bear you just wanted to cuddle.

  Isobel just wanted to be left alone, so once she found a nice corner of the house to claim, she’d be all set. I just hoped she didn’t bite my hand off first.

  Then there were two medium-sized dogs shaped like tanks. They didn’t resemble any dog I’d ever seen before, other than one another. They had short ears, long tails and square heads, with blotchy fur that stuck out all over and came off on your fingers when you petted them. Neither one seemed nice as much as dumb and eager to entertain by jumping all over you and slobbering down your pant leg. They didn’t have collars on, so I’d have to make up something to call them.

  The fifth dog was downright mean. It growled and barked and had a holy fit whenever Mia or I got within a yard of its kennel, which bore a sign that read: Beware of Dog. Oh really? There was no way I was getting the beast home short of knocking it on the head with a board and tying it to the roof of my car, but I didn’t go in for animal cruelty. Anyway, there wasn’t a board on earth big enough to do damage to that thick skull.

  I’d send Andy back to deal with him.

  For the ride home, big Gus and cranky Isobel parked it in the backseat, while Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum shared the hatchback. Mia sat in the passenger seat grumbling about how bad they all smelled and how she was never going to get the dog spit out of her hair from where Gus kept licking the back of her head over the top of the seat.

  I felt like a fat kid at the candy counter, having always wanted a pet and never being allowed to have anything other than a fish because of my little sister’s allergies to every animal in existence with fur.

  Oh good gravy. My sister. She was coming for a visit, and I totally forgot. Guess she’d need to bring allergy medication. Or with five dogs and a cat that could pop in at any time, a plastic bubble to stay in.

  • Four •

  Andy picked up pizza, dog food, and the canine version of Satan, whose real name turned out to be Brutus, and who was a mix between a Rottweiler and a Doberman. Fortunately Jenn had introduced Andy to Brutus, and anyone who had been cleared by her was okay by Brutus. I, however, was a different story. Brutus was in my fenced backyard howling at the moon and the neighbor’s cat. He and I would find a way to come to terms tomorrow when the sun was up, and I was armed with a steak bone.

  Mia had picked at a piece of pizza and proclaimed herself stuffed before bounding up the stairs to her room with her phone glued to her ear. I had given her food and shelter; as far as I was concerned, my duty was fulfilled for the night. Ben could take her to Irene’s tomorrow, and all would be well enough with my life again.

  Except for the pesky rumor about being a murderess.

  “Well, I know you didn’t do it,” Andy said, sitting beside me on the couch scarfing his fifth piece of pizza and fending off Gus, which was no easy task. “You didn’t even know Ben was going out with her, so what would your motive be?”

  “Right. I didn’t know, and you sure didn’t tell me.” I gave him the evil eye but had to look away to grab a paper plate from Dingle and Dangle that they were playing tug-of-war with. “Anyway, Ben says they weren’t dating.”

  That made Andy look a little nervous. He almost choked on his pizza. “Oh. Well then, you’re definitely in the clear.”

  There was something more he wasn’t telling me. Something he knew. “Out with it, Beaumont. What do you know?”

  He shook his head, making his shoulder-length auburn curls sway. “Nothing. There’s nothing.”

  The phone rang, saving him from further interrogation. I got up and went into the kitchen to answer it. In the corner, Isobel lifted her head and growled at me, harmonizing with the hum of the fridge. Crabby old lady. Speaking of crabby old ladies, Irene’s name and number flashed on the caller ID, making me want to bash my head against the counter. “Hello, Irene,” I said, answering.

  “I forgot to tell you something earlier,” she said. “I’m sending some men over to collect the weathervane tomorrow, so don’t be alarmed if you hear them on your roof.”

  For the past six months, ever since Ben moved out, my mother-in-law had been trying to take her house back one piece at a time. A vintage chandelier, a pair of antique andirons shaped like owls—which I had particularly liked—a gilded mirror from the foyer wall that was hung the day the first Ellsworths moved in … and now the weathervane.

  I glanced out the window to where Brutus was barking his brains out, muzzle thrown back and eyes blazing up into a tall chestnut tree in the middle of the yard. Whoever she dispatched to do her dirty work would have to make it past a solid mass of teeth, muscle, and claw to get that weathervane. “That’s fine, Irene. Send them over.” I clicked off with a giddiness bubbling in my stomach. Serves her right.

  Back in the family room, Andy had his video camera hooked up to the TV. “I want to show you the latest shoot from the castle,” he said. “Finch knows a religious antiquities dealer from Indianapolis. He’s authenticated a lot of Finch’s collection. He had him come in and comment on some of his pieces on film today. It’s pretty interesting.”

  “I’m eager to have my mind occupied by anything at all other than Ben, Jenn Berg, Irene, or Mia.” I curled my feet up under me on the couch for the show. “The weathervane goes tomorrow.”

  Andy shook with laughter. “Poor Stewart’s going to be up on their roof in the storm that’s on its way, screwing that thing down while she yells at him from under her umbrella that it’s crooked.”

  It was a pretty accurate visual that he conjured in my mind, and I couldn’t help but chuckle picturing it. “The poor man. She’s a menace. I feel sorry for him for marrying her.” Of course, if he hadn’t, Ben wouldn’t exist. I wasn’t sure how I felt about Ben’s nonexistence at this point, other than preferring not to think about it at all.

  The clip was unedited and jumpy, with Andy making Carl and the antiquities dealer, Dennis Stoddard, stop and repeat things every now and then. Carl seemed like he was acting, and not in a good way, and Stoddard was all too enthusiastic about repeating his appraisal of a South American Virgin Mary statue over and over as many times as it took. I yawned, hugely, not able to hold it back.

  “You know,” Andy said, “I bet Dennis Stoddard could tell you what some of the things around here are worth before you go and let Irene take them out of the house.”

  “I’m sure Irene knows exactly what each nook and cranny in this house is worth, but you might be on to something. She’s had her eye on that Saint Francis birdbath beside the shed. Maybe I can sweet-talk this antiques guy into giving me a value for it before she gets her greedy hands on it. Will Atkins thinks it’s worth about a grand, but he doesn’t specialize in religious antiques, so it might even be more.” Will Atkins, from Schoolhouse Antiques, specialized in old records, anything Native American, and whatever else struck his fancy, by the looks of his antique shop. It was like living next door to a perpetual garage sale.

  Andy stretched his arms out across the back of the couch. “Don’t let Briggs hear about Stoddard looking at your birdbath. The bad blood between him and Atkins is enough. His jealousy doesn’t need to run clear to Indianapolis, too.”

  Jefferson Briggs owned Court House Antiques, right across the canal from Atkins’s School House Antiques. They were the Hatfield and McCoy of Metamora, Briggs calling Atkins a junk dealer, Atkins calling Briggs an overpriced snob. They went to the same auctions and ran up each other’s bids out of spite. The whole town knew their competitive streak was out of hand, but nobody knew what to do about it.

  The phone rang again. “What does she want this time?” I said, pushing myself up off the couch.

  “Blood would be my guess,” Andy said, laughing.

  But it wasn’t Irene this time. It was Johnna. “I talk
ed to Soapy,” she said. “The play is on hold for now. They’re having a meeting tomorrow night to decide what to do.”

  “Well, I guess we’ll stop reserving tickets. Don’t worry though, I’ll figure out something for you guys to get your service hours in.”

  She let out a groan. “Of course you will.”

  “See you tomorrow, Johnna.” I hung up feeling like I’d been standing on a breaking point all day and couldn’t get my feet to move. If I wasn’t careful, I’d fall right down into the earth and get swallowed alive. Somehow finding a dead body led to me being a suspect (although not an official one until I could talk to Reins without throwing up), finding out about Ben seeing another woman (even if he didn’t call it dating), getting Mia overnight (fingers crossed it was only one night), adopting five crazy (one of them very dangerous) dogs, and the play being put on hold, which meant I had to figure out something for my phone crew to do before tomorrow.

  What I needed was a way of finding out what really happened to Jenn Berg. Was she killed, pushed, or did she simply slip into the canal and hit her head?

  That was when the best idea of all time struck.

  I’d use my phone crew to make calls to everyone in town, questioning them on what they might have seen or heard that could help with the case. They’d get their hours in, and I might get myself off the hook as a possible suspect. Two birds, one stone.

  Ben would hate it. He’d forbid me to do it.

  I grabbed another cookie from the pantry and munched resolutely. Ben would have to get over it. I had my good name to clear, and the town had a show to put on if it wanted to salvage its own good reputation.

  Mia refused to get up the next morning. Chances were, she’d been up all night texting friends. When Ben arrived at nine thirty, he looked like he’d woken up in a nightmare. I guess he kind of had.