Oodles of Poodles (A PET RESCUE MYSTERY)

by Johnston, LindaO.

  Unlikely. But I could hope, couldn’t I?

  I’m not stupid, by the way. I realized that by asking so many questions, I might have annoyed the real killer. I intended to be careful and not put myself into a situation where anyone could get revenge by harming me. I’d stay where there were other people around, like at HotRescues. When I went home, I had a security system. All was well.

  Or so I thought—until I got a phone call at three o’clock in the morning, from Brooke.

  “Lauren,” she said in a muted tone. “There’s someone here at HotRescues. I’ve called the cops, including Antonio. They’re on their way. But I thought you’d want to know.”

  Chapter 22

  Rousing Zoey, I shooed her outside into our fenced yard for a quick middle-of-the night outing, then decided to let her come along. After I finished hurriedly dressing in jeans and a Stanford sweatshirt Tracy had given me, I loaded Zoey into the car and we zoomed off toward HotRescues.

  This wasn’t the first time there had been a problem in the middle of the night at my shelter.

  But that first time, months ago, was what had led to our hiring someone to sleep there overnight every night.

  We still had security cameras mounted within the shelter area—more of them now, and better quality.

  I used my hands-free system to call Brooke again once I was on the way. “Has Antonio arrived yet?” I asked immediately. “And is Cheyenne there with you?”

  Our security director’s dog was an adorable, well-trained golden retriever who, I felt certain, would do everything she could to protect her mistress. Even so, without knowing who the intruder was—and whether he or she was armed—I didn’t feel at all comfortable relying on the dog to save either of them.

  “He just called,” Brooke responded. “He’s about five minutes away.”

  I was still ten minutes away. Not that I’d be much protection. Besides, Brooke knew better than I did how to take care of herself.

  “Are you in your apartment? Do you hear anything?” Dumb questions on my part, at least the last one. I heard a lot of dogs barking in the background but they didn’t sound near her. The first answer was probably yes.

  It was. “I’ll stay here till I’ve got backup,” she said.

  “Good call.” I felt somewhat relieved. I really liked Brooke.

  Besides, HotRescues was my responsibility.

  But I remained frightened, not my usual reaction. Not only was I responsible, but I cared. What if whoever was there had come to hurt our residents?

  Maybe it was only an animal wandering through the yard—a raccoon or skunk, maybe. Not the best situation, but not especially dangerous, either.

  Yet I knew better. Brooke was fully aware of what was happening around her. She would most likely have viewed some of the security camera footage already.

  It had to be a person.

  I could only pray that Brooke, and all the animals, remained safe.

  • • •

  I heard no sirens as I approached the HotRescues parking lot. Were the police already there? Had they decided to remain silent so they could catch whoever was trespassing in the act?

  Pulling into the lot, I recognized Antonio’s dark sedan sandwiched between two police cars. I saw no people around, so they must all be inside the fence.

  I took a deep breath as I got out of my car, unhooked Zoey from her safety restraint in the backseat, and snapped on her leash. I watched her for a few seconds. She sniffed the air, then the ground—nothing atypical. She didn’t seem alarmed, and she could be very protective if necessary.

  I relaxed a little but remained on guard.

  I tried the door into the welcome area. It was locked, a good thing—maybe. Had the cops entered this way? Had Antonio? If so, who’d locked it behind them?

  I reached into my pocket, eased out the key, and carefully unlocked the door.

  It was dark inside. I flipped on the lights. That wouldn’t hurt anything, would it?

  “Hands where I can see them,” said a stern voice. A uniformed cop emerged from the hall where my office was.

  Zoey growled, then barked. “It’s okay,” I told her, raising one hand all the way into the air and the other high enough for the cop to see it. I didn’t want to choke my dog while still holding her leash. I identified myself. “My security director called and told me about a break-in,” I said. “Have you found the culprit?”

  “Still looking. I’ll need to see your ID.”

  “She’s fine, Officer.” That was Antonio’s voice, and he, too, came out of the hallway. “She’s who she said she is.”

  “Okay, sir.” The cop nodded, then disappeared again in the direction from which he’d come.

  “What’s going on?” I asked. I was used to seeing Brooke’s guy dressed up in a suit, like the detective he was. Now, though, he wore an LAPD T-shirt over torn jeans, and his short, dark hair was unkempt. “Where’s Brooke?”

  “She’s showing a couple of cops through the kennel areas. They’re trying to assess how bad the damage is.”

  “Damage?”

  I’m sure I sounded as panicked as I felt. Antonio smiled reassuringly as he gave me a quick hug. “It’s okay. Nothing much. But some of the kennel gates were opened and dogs got onto the paths. No fights or anything. They were just loose—although…”

  “Although what?”

  “Well, there were some packages of meat here and there. We’ve been picking them up rather than leaving them where they are as evidence. We’re not sure whether they’re poisoned, and not all the dogs have been put back into their kennels.”

  “Oh, no!” I felt myself sway but pulled myself together immediately. I wasn’t the swooning type, not ever. And if I was really going to fall apart, I’d do it when I was alone—after making sure all our animals were fine. Or if they weren’t…well, Carlie was a damned good vet, and others on her staff would also do anything to ensure that any injured pet was cared for fast and right. “I need to get back there.”

  “I’ll come with you.”

  We hurried into the kennel area. The brightest security lights were on. Usually, they were on a dimmer setting at night. All the dogs seemed to be in their kennels along the main path. Not wanting to rely on my memory while I was upset, I checked each kennel card posted on the outer part of the gate to make sure that the one or two dogs inside matched the photos.

  We went around the corner toward the storage building. “Any idea where the intruder got in? Could he still be here?” I was breathless as I asked Antonio my questions.

  “We’ve looked around. Best we could tell, he got in right there.” He pointed toward the gate at the rear of the shelter, where we brought in large containers of supplies like food.

  “Wasn’t it locked?” I suddenly was ready to chew out Pete, though I knew our handyman was always careful. Could he have messed up this one time? But Brooke usually checked all entry doors when she did her rounds.

  “The lock appeared to have been picked from the outside. There are deep gouges visible.”

  Not only would I have that lock replaced, but I’d also have a brand-new gate installed. One with a lock that could never be picked.

  “And the intruder?”

  “No sign of him yet.”

  “You’re sure it’s a he?”

  Antonio looked down at me grimly. “Unsurprisingly, with all your equipment here, there are pictures. Brooke glanced at them before, but we wanted to secure the facility before really focusing on them.”

  “Right.”

  We turned the next corner. I saw Brooke with two uniformed cops, including the one who’d first confronted me. “Oh, Lauren.” Her shrill voice told me how upset she was. She was awfully pale. It could have been the bright lights back here, but I didn’t think so. As I often did, I thought of her apparently conquered illness, which had brought her here in the first place to relinquish Cheyenne.

  “It’ll be okay,” I reassured her loudly enough to be heard over the nearest
barking dogs, hoping it was so.

  “But—”

  Antonio must have been worried about her, too. He approached and put an arm around her. “She’s right,” he told her. “You did good, calling us as quickly as you did.”

  I wanted to hear all the details about how she first became aware of the intruder and what she’d done, but not until the cops had cleared the place and were confident that all was well.

  I’d stay here for the rest of the night anyway, and hoped that Antonio would as well.

  The group of us continued to look around, checking on the dogs outside, then the cats and smaller dogs in their respective buildings.

  All looked fine, and it appeared that, with Brooke’s help, every one of the animals was back where it belonged.

  Eventually we headed back inside the center building. That was not only where the upstairs apartment was for whoever stayed here all night, but most security viewing equipment was downstairs there, too.

  “Want us to hang around, Detective?” the cop who’d first seen me asked Antonio.

  “Not necessary. I’ll look at the tapes from the cameras, then bring them to the Devonshire station.”

  Only after we got copies made, but I wasn’t going to interrupt him. I wanted to keep the pictures.

  But I needed to see them first.

  My mind had been churning over the timing for this break-in. Yes, someone could have decided to invade HotRescues anytime.

  But this was the night after the day when I’d been really pushy at the Sheba’s Story filming.

  What if Hans Marford’s killer was exacting a form of revenge, or at least warning me to back off if I didn’t want to see my dear animal charges hurt?

  I became more certain of that when we reviewed the film in a downstairs room in the center building that had been kept as a tiny security headquarters.

  The person had, not unexpectedly, worn a disguise—a ski mask. The outfit was dark and loose, so the wearer’s sex was indistinguishable.

  There were shots of him or her in several different areas, wearing gloves and opening gates so dogs poured out of their kennels and onto the path.

  The intruder wore a backpack, and extracted the packages of food to place on the ground here and there. Of course some of the dogs dug into it.

  I prayed the meat was safe for them. So far none appeared sick, but I’d called Carlie just in case. Her backup vet, Cyd, was on the way to give everyone a cursory check. We’d have to wait until morning, or even later, to get an analysis of what they’d eaten. So far, I was optimistic that it had been part of the warning and not designed to harm any animals…this time.

  At one point, when the intruder reached the spot in the newest area of HotRescues where they could have either continued along the path through the outdoor kennel areas or gone into the nearby cat house, the person looked a little confused. At least the gesture he or she made gave that appearance. The left hand reached over the head and scratched behind where an ear must have been under the mask.

  The person continued on, out of this camera’s range. Other cameras picked up some movement, but no other shot was as clear as that one.

  And it told us nothing.

  Chapter 23

  The police kept a presence at HotRescues for the rest of the night. So did I.

  Dr. Cyd Andelson left soon after she’d arrived, but not before doing a cursory check of each of the animals. All the dogs seemed to crave attention even in the middle of the night. Some cats, too. None appeared to be ill, so I had no problem with her departure—though I promised to call for an immediate revisit if anything changed. Before she drove off, we called Carlie together from my office to give a report.

  “Glad all the animals are okay.” Carlie sounded as wide awake as I was. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow, Lauren.” I was sure she’d want to discuss the reason for the break-in. Without giving details, I’d hinted that it had to do with Sheba’s Story. When I returned to the kennel area, Antonio was trying to convince Brooke to go home. That would have been fine with me under the circumstances, but our security director refused. She did, however, take Cheyenne back to the upstairs apartment where they should have been sleeping that night.

  I chose not to confirm whether Antonio stayed there with them but assumed he did.

  I returned again to my office. Zoey promptly jumped up onto the sofa in my little conversation area and fell asleep.

  Me? Well first, sitting at my desk, I sent an e-mail to Dante to let him know about the break-in. I thought about calling, or even texting him, but though he needed to know what had happened, there was no reason to wake him. Everything was under control…for the moment.

  I did call Matt, though. Our relationship was growing, or at least I liked to think it was. If I didn’t let him know what had happened, I’d hurt his feelings, and I didn’t want to do that.

  His voice was groggy but he answered right away. “Lauren? What’s wrong?”

  “Does something have to be wrong for me to call you in the middle of the night? What if I just wanted to hear your voice?”

  “Yeah, right,” he said. “You’d never admit to something that romantic. So, tell me. What’s wrong?”

  He had come to know me well enough to get that right. I’d always have an excuse ready, even if I really did just want to talk to him.

  I told him what had happened. “But all the animals seem fine,” I reassured him hastily. That’s one of the things I like about Matt. He really cares about animals. “We still don’t know what the intruder was trying to feed them, but the police are having it analyzed.” I paused. “I’m afraid the break-in might have something to do with Sheba’s Story. I was digging for information today. Or—”

  “Or?”

  Another possibility had crossed my mind. “Well, it could relate to that abandoned dog I took in. If the councilman really did own Hope and wanted to hide it, maybe he sent someone to do something to her, or to steal her.”

  “But is she still there? If so, is she okay?”

  “Yes,” I acknowledged. “I’m probably just looking for reasons that maybe aren’t there.” And blaming myself. “Maybe this was just a random act of trespass and threat against my animals, just for someone’s perverted sense of fun, to show it could be done.”

  But I couldn’t help thinking it had been some kind of warning.

  Zoey and I took another slow walk around HotRescues under the glowing lights we’d kept on full power, observing everything. Cops were stationed on the grounds, and a crime scene team had also taken over the back gate where the intruder had apparently gained entrance.

  When I returned to the main building, Matt was inside with Rex; Antonio had let them in.

  “You didn’t need to come,” I told him, although I didn’t even attempt to hide my big smile. I felt glad to see him. Even relieved.

  Not that I’m some wimp of a woman who needs a man to protect her. But his moral support meant a lot.

  “No, I didn’t,” he said. “And I can’t stay long. I’ve got some training exercises scheduled for my animal rescue teams later today. But I wanted to see for myself that you’re all right.”

  I glanced around the office. Antonio had headed back to be with Brooke again. We were alone, except for our dogs.

  That was a good enough reason to kiss Matt, and I did.

  “I’m fine,” I told him.

  “You might be interested to hear that the break-in here made the news,” he said as I ushered him into my office so we could spend the little bit of time we had with each other sitting and talking. And maybe even making out.

  I’d been about to sit down but remained standing instead. “What! Who told the damned media?”

  “They have their ways,” Matt reminded me. “Probably listen in on all police scanners, or have informants at all police stations, or even hire people to hang out there themselves.”

  I sighed. “I’m glad I sent Dante an e-mail. With his corporate public relations staff, he’ll be able
to turn this into good publicity for HotRescues somehow. Our security was violated, but the animals all came out of it fine.”

  “Could be,” Matt said.

  We snuggled on the couch for a while. I’d already told him my suppositions on why the break-in had occurred and had half expected him to scold me for being too nosy and not careful enough. I’d already decided how to argue against any criticism he had. But he didn’t get into it.

  I think I fell asleep. But eventually, I heard a noise outside in the welcome area. I moved my head off Matt’s shoulder to look at my watch.

  The dogs both stood at the closed office door, wagging their tails. It was about seven o’clock—time for staff to begin arriving to help feed animals and clean their runs.

  Time, too, for me to start my day.

  I did, however, agree that Zoey and I could go with Rex and Matt to the nearest fast-food place for a quick breakfast on its outdoor patio.

  We were the only ones there, although crowds kept arriving. Some got takeout, and others ate inside. I enjoyed my egg sandwich with cheese and bacon. Not the healthiest food, but I’d need whatever energy I could muster to get this day started. Matt had a scrambled eggs breakfast.

  And the dogs? They managed to scrounge table scraps from us. Not the healthiest thing for them, either, but the aromas and our eating undoubtedly sparked their appetites. They’d get their healthy dog food breakfasts later.

  Matt drove us back to HotRescues. Before Zoey and I exited the car near the entry building, Matt said, “You’ll be okay?” He made it a question rather than a statement.

  “Of course. But thanks for worrying about us.” I included Zoey and all the animals inside my shelter in my comment and figured that Matt recognized it as such. I leaned over from the passenger seat and gave him a quick kiss. “If you’d like to get together later for dinner to confirm it, I’m available.”

  “Unfortunately, I’m not,” he said, which made my upbeat mood threaten to cave in a bit. “We’ve got an emergency preparedness meeting this evening.” And since in his role as a captain of L.A. Animal Services he was the head of that team, I knew he’d have to attend. In fact, I wanted him to. He was always good at what he did, and being prepared for emergencies was a worthwhile goal.