Pooches, Pumpkins, and Poison

by Carolyn Ridder Aspenson

  “Oh, absolutely.”

  He closed the door to the police station behind me.

  I spent the rest of the morning working at the shelter. We’d received another seven dogs, but thankfully, four others had been adopted, so at least that was some good news. One of our pitties was pregnant, and we’d finally found a foster for her. I’d wanted to take her, but with the amount of dogs in and out of my house, and my time away, I wasn’t sure I could be there enough for her. That was probably a good thing because when she had the pups, I would have likely ended up a foster fail for all of them.

  I’d stopped back at the house before heading to the shelter, picked up Allie and my foster fail with the unsigned paperwork, Bandit. Bandit was a black lab I’d grown attached to, though I’d grown attached to every single dog I’d met, who was I kidding. When I received the extra life insurance policies I’d donated enough money to create an outside turf play area for the dogs, and the ones that played well had open play time when it wasn’t blazing hot. The ones that didn’t play well went out on their own until we worked with them enough to slowly merge them into the group. Allie and Bandit did fine with others, so bringing them allowed each to get some exercise and keep them used to being around other dogs.

  Everyone talked about Traci Fielding and the possible cyanide poisoning, and until I assured them all I’d been two hundred percent cleared by the doctor, they’d kept their distance. Once they felt safe around me, they hounded in like I knew something they didn’t, and I almost wished I hadn’t let them think I was safe to be around.

  I liked to talk with people, but too much was never a good thing, and I didn’t enjoy having my life put on a platter and served to people at their leisure. Call me cranky, Lord knows Hayden did most of the time, but since my husband’s death, I’d kept to myself, and I’d adjusted to that just fine.

  I spent extra time with two dogs, both pit bulls in need of extra love and attention. Dog fighting was alive and kicking, and we often received dogs that had been hurt and/or abused from a horrible life of fighting. While most people were afraid of them, I loved them extra because they needed it. They needed to develop trust and feel love, and it was my job to help them. The two I worked with, Lila and Stu, weren’t aggressive, they were timid. But when their anxiety left, their wiggle butts nearly whacked their own big, boxy heads and practically knocked me over. It was glorious to see them come out of their shells, to roll onto their backs and let me rub their freckled bellies, massage their ears, and kiss their big square foreheads.

  I had the best life. It just would have been better to share it with Sam.

  One of the volunteers walked into the play area and shut the gate behind her. “Hey Missy, did you hear?”

  I finished spraying off the turf. “Hear what?”

  “They arrested Traci Fielding’s husband thirty minutes ago.”

  I dropped the hose. “They what? Are you serious?”

  “One of the volunteers, Alicia, is dating a cop, and he just texted her and told her.”

  I shut off the hose, picked it up, carried it to the holder, and wrapped it around it. “Gosh, I had no idea he was a suspect, or that they were even that close to arresting someone.”

  “Of course he was a suspect. The spouse is always the suspect. Don’t you watch TV?”

  I smiled. “Not enough to know that, I guess.”

  She eyed me up and down. “Well, I just thought you’d want to know.”

  I said thanks as she left the turf area.

  Allie and Bandit lay on the turf and basked in the warm late afternoon sun. October weather was iffy in the Atlanta area, going from cool temperatures in the high fifties to low sixties in the mornings to mid-eighties in the late afternoons. Only a few times have we had a cold Halloween, and based on the weather patterns, I didn’t think we’d have one this year.

  “Come on pups, time to go inside.”

  The dogs inched their way off the turf, stretching as they did.

  My cell phone rang and I pulled it from my back pocket.

  “Hey Max, what’s up?”

  “Did you hear about Jake Fielding?”

  “Just now, yes. I can’t believe it.”

  “I’m shocked. I’ve known Jake for a long time, and I can’t believe he’d do something like this. Doesn’t make sense to me.”

  “I’m sorry. The police must have evidence to arrest him though, right?”

  He breathed heavily. “One would think. Hey, can you grab a quick coffee? I’d like to talk to you again about what happened if you’ve got some time.”

  “Sure, but I already told you basically everything. I was planning to go grab lunch. I skipped breakfast this morning. Are you hungry?”

  “I could eat. How about Atlanta Bread in thirty?”

  “Make it twenty. I’m borderline hangry already.”

  “Then let’s get some food into you before something bad happens.”

  I laughed and said I’d leave immediately.

  I left Allie and Bandit, promising them I’d be back in a bit to get them, said goodbye to the rest of my babies, and headed over to Atlanta Bread.

  He was already waiting at a table when I arrived, face down into his cell phone.

  I tapped him on the shoulder when he didn’t see me walk up. “You look like my daughter with that thing in your face like that.”

  He glanced up at me with his eyes wide. “Oh geez, I’m sorry. I didn’t see you.”

  “Obviously. You can’t see me with your face stuck in your phone.”

  He set the phone face down on the table. “Duly noted, ma’am.”

  I laughed. “You are too old to call me ma’am.”

  “It’s a term of endearment.”

  “To whom, a grandmother?”

  He smiled. Max had a nice smile. I had to give him that. He stood and offered me to walk in front of him. Atlanta Bread is an order at the counter deli style restaurant with sandwiches and soups. They have a great bread bowl with special fall soups, and I especially loved the pumpkin one. It’s not always on the menu, but the owner adopted a dog from the shelter and sent me the October soup calendar a few weeks ago, so I knew it was available.

  We ordered our food, got our drinks, and then sat at a corner booth.

  “So, what’s up?” I asked. Max and I were friends like I said, but he’d called for a reason, and I wanted to get to it.

  “I’m worried about Jake. I don’t think he did it.”

  “Why not?”

  He blinked. “Why not?”

  I nodded. “Sam always said he wasn’t an ethical businessman, and we both know he’s cheated on Traci multiple times. Committing murder could be the next step in that kind of life.”

  “Don’t you think that’s a reach?”

  I shook my head. “Not really. Character traits are telling things, and they form patterns.”

  “So, you think he’s guilty?”

  “I didn’t say that. I said it’s plausible he progressed to killing. What makes you think he’s innocent?”

  He sighed. “I guess it’s a theory of opposites for me. I know Jake’s done some bad things in his life, everyone has, at least to some level, but I think he’s got boundaries and limits, and murdering his wife? I just don’t see that as a line he’d cross.”

  “What are you looking for from me?”

  “I was hoping you could tell me what you said to the police.”

  “I’ve been asked to keep my comments private, Max. It’s an investigation.”

  He grimaced. “Missy, I know, and I understand, but this is important. I really don’t think he did it.”

  “Because of the opposites thing?”

  “Because he told me, and I believe him.”

  “If he told you he didn’t cheat on his wife, would you believe that, too?”

  He leaned back in his seat and sighed. “Listen, I know Jake’s not been a good husband, I’m not disagreeing with you on that. And yeah, I could use that whole, there’s two si
des to every coin but—”

  “Three sides to the truth?”

  He nodded. “Yes, that kind of thing, but I’m not going to do that. Jake cheated on Traci. More times than I probably know about, but he’s under a lot of stress with the divorce and his businesses, and I just don’t think he’d add more mistakes to the ones he’s already made.”

  I wasn’t sure what to do. Max pushed hard for me to believe in Jake’s innocence, but I wasn’t sure I was on board. I hadn’t exactly said anything that would cause the police to arrest Jake, that much I knew, but my comment could have been the icing on the cake for sure. And if I told Max, and by some means, that information got out, I had no idea what would happen to the case. “Max, I…I’m not sure I can tell you anything. The detective was pretty insistent that I not share the information.”

  “Do you know Jennifer Lee?”

  “Of course.”

  “Then you probably know Jake had a thing with her right?”

  “I’d heard rumors.”

  “They weren’t just rumors, they were true. But he broke it off recently, and Jen, she was really upset about it. She threatened him. Said she’d destroy him. Make him pay. Said if he could ruin her life, she could just as easily ruin his.”

  “Jennifer said that? That doesn’t sound like her.”

  “I was there. I’ve never seen anything like it, and I would have said the same thing about her before, but not anymore. It was intense.”

  “So what’re you saying?”

  “I’m saying it’s possible Jennifer could have had something to do with Traci’s death.”

  I stiffened. “Have you told this to the police?”

  He nodded. “And I’m assuming Jake has, too by now, but I’m worried something you said may have tipped the scale the wrong way.”

  I crossed my feet under the table and took a sip of soup. I was torn. Telling him would go against my promise to the police detective, but not telling him felt wrong, too, so I opted for the middle ground. I’d learned to do that during my marriage and child rearing years. “Max, if the police think there’s a chance Jennifer had something to do with Traci’s death, they’ll look into it. That’s their job.”

  “Not if they’ve already got their killer. They’ll work on getting a conviction for him, and that’s it. But if they have anything that could help turn the table…”

  “I mean, I…I told the truth, and I’m comfortable with that, but that’s all I can say about it.”

  He nodded. “But you saw him arguing with Jennifer yesterday, didn’t you?”

  Since he asked, he clearly already knew, and that annoyed me. “Why didn’t you just ask me that in the first place? You’re an attorney for God’s sake Max.”

  “I’m sorry. Did you tell the police that?”

  I nodded.

  He breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank God.”

  “Are you going to represent him?”

  “No. No. I handle real estate transactions. I’d get killed in a criminal trial.”

  “So what happens now?”

  “He’ll get a bail hearing, hopefully be released, and it’ll go to trial.”

  “And you honestly believe he didn’t kill Traci?”

  “I’m sure he didn’t.”

  “Because you think Jennifer Lee did.”

  He nodded. “Yes, Missy, I do, and I’m hoping you can help me find out.”

  I almost choked on my pumpkin soup. “Why would I help you find that out?”

  “Because whoever killed Traci could have killed you, too. Whether the autopsy results are back yet or not, they will be in a matter of days, and we both know it’s going to show cyanide poisoning, Missy. Had you touched that pumpkin, by, I don’t know, tripping or whatever, you could be dead, too. Do you really want the wrong person going to prison?”

  Max had a point, a very valid, important point. I could have died, and that would have left Hayden with zero parents. I at least owed it to her to make sure whomever killed Traci paid for it and wasn’t left free to kill anyone else.

  “So, what do you have in mind?”

  “Since I’m a city council member, I can’t do much in the public eye. I’m going to need you to get out and ask questions, find out what you can about Jennifer, maybe look into other people that didn’t like Traci. All we need is reasonable doubt to keep Jake out of prison, but to get the killer, we’ll need proof.” He pressed his lips together, and his eyebrows furrowed, forming a long thin line up his forehead between them. “And honestly, I don’t have a clue how to do that.”

  Chapter Three

  I’d spent a lot of time on my MacBook over the past few years, learning about dogs, dog training, grants, funding, and volunteering for shelters, as well as virtually everything else having to do with dogs, and I’d become sort of an expert. It didn’t happen quickly, but in the process I learned about research and the best ways to go about it. I also spent a lot of time watching mysteries, the old fashioned kind like Agatha Christie, and less old fashioned, but still old to many, Murder She Wrote. I knew they were fiction, and I knew their means to solve murders were often impossible, or sprinkled with fairy dust and luck, but I also knew their cases were puzzles, and I liked puzzles, so I decided to think of Traci Fielding’s murder as a puzzle.

  And my first step to solving the puzzle was to figure out all the pieces. To do that I’d start with the obvious. Jake Fielding.

  His bail hearing was the next morning, and though I wasn’t sure I’d be able to see him, I headed over to the jail anyway. After going through two security systems, leaving my purse, cell phone, and belt in a small locker similar to the one I had in high school, I was allowed in a small meeting area to wait for him.

  An officer escorted Jake in. I wasn’t sure how I felt when I saw him. I was a bowl full of emotions mixed and blended into one large mass of uncertainty. I still wasn’t sure he was innocent, but I wasn’t exactly sure he was guilty either.

  He sat in the chair across from me, a look of confusion and intrigue spread across his face. “I’m not sure to what I owe this honor, Mrs. Kingston.”

  I smiled. “I’m not sure exactly either, but we have a mutual friend, and he’s been good to me since my husband died, so if for no other reason, I owe him a favor.”

  He smiled. “Max Hoover, I presume?”

  Jake Fielding had an air of superiority and snobbery surrounding him. He always had. He lived in one of the wealthier communities in town and everyone knew he had a lot of money. It wasn’t that he told people, it was just known, though I suspected the multiple businesses he owned were a big hint. But even so, he had the attitude to go along with the six thousand square foot home, indoor/outdoor pool, media room, and three expensive foreign cars. I wasn’t jealous. We could have had all of that, too, but we never quite saw a reason. “Yes.” I wet my lips, giving myself a moment to prepare my thoughts for what I wanted to say. “Max seems to think you’re innocent.”

  “Max is correct.”

  I leaned back in my chair. “I’m not so sure.”

  “You don’t like me much, do you Mrs. Kingston?”

  “I have this weird thing about men that aren’t faithful. I wouldn’t call it dislike. Disgust seems to be a more appropriate word.”

  “Understood.”

  “But I do like Max, and he made a good point.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “And what was that exactly?”

  “That if you didn’t kill your wife, the person that did is still out there.”

  Jake looked me straight in the eyes. He didn’t blink, he didn’t flinch. “I can promise you I didn’t kill my wife.”

  Sam was a serious and experienced businessman. He’d spent many years negotiating major contracts, and he’d learned to read people well. Over the years, he’d shared some of his techniques with me. One thing that stuck was how to tell when someone lied, and I’d used that successfully during Hayden’s teenage years. Sam said to check her eyes. If they’d look down and to the right, sh
e was lying. If she maintained eye contact, she wasn’t.

  Sam wasn’t wrong about that kind of thing, and that’s how I knew Jake Fielding didn’t kill his wife.

  “Then who do you think did?”

  The chains attached to his feet rattled, and the table shifted up as he adjusted his legs underneath. “That’s a hard question to answer.”

  “Max thinks one of your ex-lovers is the killer.”

  He furrowed his brow. “What? Who?”

  I didn’t have a whole lot of patience for Jake Fielding, and what little patience I did have was wearing thin fast. “Jake, come on, don’t play games with me. There are plenty of other things I can do to repay Max’s kindness.” I realized to a man like Jake, that may have sounded a lot steamier than intended. In fact, it shouldn’t have had any steam to it at all. I wasn’t that kind of woman.

  He breathed deeply. “I don’t like to make presumptions.”

  “You’re in jail for the murder of your wife. I don’t think not making presumptions is an option at this point. If you know someone that could have, in any way, wanted your wife dead, you should tell someone. It doesn’t have to be me, but tell someone.”

  He nodded. “You’re right, Missy. I apologize. Of course, you know from your conversation with Max about Miss Lee.”

  “Given your relationship with her, I think you can call her Jennifer.”

  He pressed his lips together. “Yes, well, Jennifer then. I saw you at the fairgrounds yesterday, and I’m assuming you saw our unfortunate miscommunication.”

  “Argument? Yes, I did. Care to tell me what that was about?”

  He shrugged. “Let’s just say Miss, er, Jennifer isn’t happy with my decision to end our relationship.”

  Jake Fielding made my skin crawl so much I had to stop myself from flicking at the imaginary ants on my arms. “Jake, come on, cut the crap. If I’m going to do anything to help Max help you, then I need you to be open and honest.” I held my arms out wide. “Or I’m out. And frankly, other than Max and your attorney, you don’t have anyone on your side. The entire town knows about your multiple affairs and the public arguments with your wife. Oh!” I held up a finger, “And don’t forget you selling the house and cars out from under her and then buying that new McMansion all for yourself. So either shape up or I’m shipping out.”