A Catered Birthday Party

by Crawford, Isis

  Sean steepled his fingers together. This was going to be interesting. “We didn’t know it was your dog,” Sean explained in a reasonable tone of voice, a tone that seemed to piss Richard off even more. “For that matter, we still don’t know.”

  “Who else could it be?” Richard snarled. “Lassie?”

  “I thought Lassie was a collie,” Sean said. Then he went on before Richard could say anything else. “Samantha found the dog wandering out by the road. There was no collar on her.”

  “How could it be out on the road?” Richard demanded. “The thing was in its crate in the kitchen.”

  “Then obviously it’s not your dog,” Sean replied.

  “Of course it is!” Richard yelled.

  “Maybe someone let it out,” Sean said.

  “I bet Samantha did,” Richard said promptly. “It would be just like her to do something like this. She’s always going on about the rights of animals and stupid stuff like that. Wait till I tell her dad. She’s going to be out on the street in two seconds flat. All the things I’ve done for her and this is how she repays me, by stealing my dog?”

  “You should calm down and think about what you’re saying,” Sean said.

  “Calm down!?” Richard yelled. “Calm down?!”

  Bernie started to reach for her cell but Sean gestured for her to stop. He didn’t want the police up here—for several reasons. But mostly what he wanted was to study Richard Colbert’s reactions. At the moment, Richard seemed to Sean to be a man who had a low frustration tolerance.

  He waited for another second and then he said, “First of all, as I said, we don’t know this dog is Trudy.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. Of course she is.”

  “Is she microchipped?” Sean asked.

  Richard shook his head. “Annabel never wanted to do it.”

  “Any special markings?”

  Richard shook his head again. “Just call her. She’ll answer to her name.”

  “That doesn’t prove anything. She could be Trudy, but not your Trudy.” Sean put up his hand to forestall Richard’s comments. “But even if the dog that Samantha found is Trudy, why would she steal her and then tell Ramona she had her? Think about it. What you’re suggesting makes no sense. Why would she tell me, for that matter?”

  “I don’t know,” Richard said. “Maybe because she knew your daughters were investigating the ridiculous allegations my late and not too lamented wife made, and she thought Trudy could tell them something.”

  “Can you hear yourself?” Bernie said to him. “Trudy telling us something? Come on. I mean, I know Trudy is famous, but I didn’t know talking was one of her talents.”

  A spurt of anger crossed Richard’s face before he managed to erase it. He made a fist with his right hand and slammed it down into the open palm of his left hand. “Then you tell me what happened. I’m waiting to hear.”

  Sean shrugged. “The obvious answer is that someone let the dog out. The question is, who? Maybe it was Joanna.”

  Richard shook his head. “She’d never do something like that.”

  “Maybe it was an accident,” Sean said.

  “Joanna doesn’t do accidents.”

  “Then someone else,” Sean replied.

  Richard’s face contorted while he thought. “Melissa,” he muttered. “The little bitch. I’ve had about all I can take of her.”

  That’s interesting, Sean thought, as he waited for Richard to say more about Melissa. But he didn’t. Instead he said, “I’ll sort everything out later. Right now I need the dog. Where is she?”

  Sean tried to put on an expression of sincere regret. “I would have told you if you’d given me the chance.”

  “Told me what?”

  “Unfortunately, Trudy ran away immediately after Bernie got her washed. Bernie was putting her in the van when she just took off after a squirrel. Bernie looked forever, but she couldn’t find her. Isn’t that right, Bernie?”

  “Oh, yes,” Bernie said, taking up her father’s lead. “It was terrible. Poor thing. But now that I know it’s Trudy, I feel even worse.”

  “Is that a fact?” Richard said.

  “It most certainly is,” Bernie told him.

  “All I can say is that that dog had better be around someplace.”

  “I’m sure someone will find her. In fact, we’ll go out looking,” Bernie said, which Sean thought was going a tad too far. “If we see her, you’ll be the first to know,” she chirped.

  Richard rounded on her. “That tone doesn’t fool me. I know you have something to do with this. I just don’t know what. Yet.”

  Bernie put her hands on her hips and drew herself up on her stilettos. “Is that a fact? Well, maybe you’re the one who helped her disappear. Maybe you did to her what you did to your wife. You had a motive.”

  Richard’s eyebrows shot up. “Are you saying I killed her?”

  “The dog? Your wife?” Bernie asked. “Which?”

  “Both.”

  “No. You are saying that, not me,” Bernie pointed out.

  “You really are crazy,” Richard said. He turned to Sean. “Your daughter is nuts. Do you know that?”

  Sean didn’t bother to suppress a smile. “She does elicit that reaction from some people.”

  “I think it’s interesting that Annabel and Trudy are both female,” Bernie said.

  “I don’t have to listen to this,” Richard cried. But he stayed put.

  Bernie continued, “From what I’ve heard, you have lots of problems with the female sex, but then I guess that’s what happens when you get greedy. What did Annabel think of your running around? She can’t have been happy about you screwing Joanna, then moving on to Melissa. And I’m not even going to talk about Joyce,” Bernie said, taking a random shot. “No wonder her husband wanted a divorce.”

  “Is that what Joyce said?” Richard asked, his voice tight with suppressed emotion.

  “Yes,” Bernie lied. “It is.”

  “Really?”

  “Really,” Bernie repeated, feeling a small stab of guilt at what she was saying. The operative word here was small.

  “You go ask her about her business,” Richard said.

  “You mean selling Avon?” Libby asked.

  “Her other business. The one she was trying to develop.”

  “You mean the dog treats. We already know about those,” Bernie said.

  “I think it was too much for her, Annabel using another one of her ideas. I think it flipped her out.”

  “So Annabel stole the idea for the Puggables?” Libby asked.

  “I wouldn’t say steal,” Richard said. “I’d say she was inspired by the dogs Joyce made.”

  “Inspired?” Bernie asked. “That’s not the word Joyce used.”

  “I have no doubt of that. Annabel and I tried to work out something with her. We tried to come to some sort of understanding. But she wanted an immense sum of money—which we didn’t have at the time. The agreement we were trying to work out fell apart. Annabel felt guilty. She tried to make it up to her, but I don’t think Joyce ever forgave her. Not really. She’s someone who can hold a grudge for a long time.”

  “Does she hold a grudge against you?” Libby asked.

  “Yes, she does,” Richard said. “We hardly speak. That’s why I find her allegations about me so absurd.”

  “Interesting,” Bernie said. “Then why were you over there?”

  Richard blinked. “What do you mean?” he asked.

  “Exactly what she said,” Libby replied.

  Richard’s face froze. “I don’t understand.”

  “We saw you, you know,” Bernie informed him. “We were three-quarters of the way down the street when you pulled up to Joyce’s house. Boy you made good time getting there. Was Joyce in this with you? Is that why you hightailed it over there? Or did she need some consolation? I’m told that grief and fear do that to some people—you know, awakens their sex drives. Tell me. I’m curious. Inquiring minds want to know.
”

  “You’d better be careful what you say,” Richard hissed.

  “Or you’ll what?” Bernie countered. “Kill me too?”

  “Something much worse,” Richard said.

  “Oooh,” Bernie said. “I’m scared.”

  “You should be,” Richard said, and he turned and stomped down the stairs. “My lawyer will be in touch.”

  “Nothing like pissing people off, I always say,” Sean commented as soon as he heard the door slam.

  “What do you think he’ll do?” Libby asked her dad.

  “Get in touch with his lawyer.”

  “What could he sue us for?” Bernie demanded.

  Sean shrugged. “Who knows? Lawyers can always find something.”

  Libby turned to her sister. “Really, Bernie, you didn’t have to be so harsh.”

  “Harsh? Richard Colbert comes barging in here screaming and yelling about his dog and I was harsh?” Bernie cried, stung by her sister’s criticism. “We’re talking about someone who might have poisoned his wife in cold blood.” Fixing her gaze on her dad, Bernie continued, “And as long as we’re apportioning blame, Richard wouldn’t have come up here if it wasn’t for Trudy going missing.”

  “That’s true,” Libby acknowledged.

  “Dad, where is the dog?” Bernie demanded.

  “Yes. What is going on here?” Libby asked. “Please explain.”

  “I don’t know where Trudy is,” Sean told his daughters. It was the principle of the thing. He didn’t like being interrogated by anyone, but especially not by his daughters.

  Bernie raised an eyebrow. “What a big fat lie you just told.”

  “I don’t lie,” Sean blustered. What had happened to the whole respect-your-father deal? He would never have talked to his dad this way. Ever. He wouldn’t have been able to sit down for a week if he had.

  “That’s true,” Bernie said. “You don’t lie. You evade, omit, and confabulate.” She continued, “Now I know you had the dog. I’m guessing that’s why Samantha came up here, right? She took the dog and she wanted to speak to one of us. Only you were here instead.”

  “Why would she take the dog?” Sean asked.

  “I guess we’ll have to ask her,” Libby said to Bernie. “Maybe we should call her up.”

  Sean crossed his arms over his chest. “Be my guest. Question your father’s integrity.”

  “Spare me,” Bernie said.

  “Go ahead. Dial.”

  Bernie sighed. “What’s the point? She’ll just say what you told her to.”

  Sean certainly hoped that was the case. “You have no patience.”

  “Patience?” Bernie echoed. “What does patience have to do with anything? Next you’re going to tell me that all will be revealed in time.”

  “Well, it will.”

  “When?” Libby demanded. “Can you give us a time frame here?”

  Jeez, Sean thought. She sounds just like me. “I can’t tell you,” Sean answered. “Honestly. I would if I could, but I can’t.”

  “Can’t, or won’t?” Bernie challenged.

  “Both,” Sean admitted. “It’s for your own good.”

  Bernie snorted. “Ha. I don’t believe that for one minute. If you’re going to make up an excuse, at least make up a good one.”

  But what Sean had told them was true. The less they knew the better.

  For a few seconds he debated about explaining that to them but decided that would bring up a whole host of other questions he didn’t want to answer. Sean almost wished he were back in the Mini Cooper with Samantha. That was actually easier than this. He watched Libby chew on the inside of her lip while she thought. Never a good thing.

  “She can’t be at Clyde’s,” she mused. “For one thing, Mrs. Clyde is allergic to dogs, and for another, I don’t think Clyde would do something illegal.”

  “Never,” Sean managed to get out without dissolving in a fit of laughter.

  Libby turned to her father in alarm as another idea occurred to her. “Tell me you didn’t get Marvin involved in this.”

  “I’m telling you I didn’t get Marvin involved in this.”

  “I’m serious, Dad.”

  “So am I.I wouldn’t do something like that.” Aside from everything else, Marvin would probably lose the dratted dog when he took Trudy out for a walk. Sean raised his hand. “I swear. There. Is that good enough for you?”

  Bernie tapped her nails on her thighs. “Well, she’s got to be somewhere. Is she with Amber or Googie?”

  Sean remained silent.

  Bernie answered her own question. “No. That wouldn’t work. Neither of them could have left the store and both of them live in places that don’t allow pets. So that leaves only one person.”

  Sean put his poker face on as he waited for Bernie’s conclusion.

  “The dog’s in Ines’s house, isn’t she?” Bernie asked.

  “No,” Sean lied. “She’s not.”

  Bernie inspected his face. She was pretty sure her dad was lying, but when he got like this she could never be absolutely certain. “This was a bad idea, Dad,” Bernie said. “A very bad idea.” When she got hold of Samantha she was going to wring her neck. She had enough drama in her life without this.

  Sean leaned forward slightly. Never defend. Always attack. That was his motto. It had served him well over the years and he wasn’t about to change it now.

  “I’ll tell you what’s a bad idea, Bernie. Saying what you said to Richard. Now that’s a bad idea. You obviously haven’t learned anything from your encounter with Rick.”

  Bernie looked unrepentant. “I was just trying to shake him up.”

  “And you certainly did that,” Sean agreed.

  “So what’s the problem?” Bernie asked. “You always said that was a good thing to do, to get things moving.”

  Sean took in a deep breath and let it out. He knew he had said that in the past. And it was a good thing to do. But it was one thing having his men doing it and another thing having his daughters do it. Not that he was going to say that. Even he knew better than that.

  “Next time, just leave that kind of thing to me,” he told her instead. He judged that to be a fairly neutral comment.

  Evidently Bernie didn’t think so, given the look on her face. She put her hands on her hips. Her mouth fairly quivered with indignation. “After everything that’s happened? After all the criminal cases we’ve been involved in, you don’t think I can take care of myself?” she cried. “How can you say something like that?”

  “Of course I think you can take care of yourself,” Sean told his daughter. “I raised you, didn’t I? I taught you the three deadliest judo moves, didn’t I?” Much to his wife’s dismay, he could have added. “You and your sister have done a great job solving the cases we’ve taken on. Better than some of my men. I guess I get a little overprotective from time to time. You know, your mom would come back from the other side and kill me if anything happened to either of you. And I’d deserve it.”

  Bernie felt all her annoyance and anger flow out of her. She went over, bent down, and gave her dad a hug. Libby did the same.

  “Nothing is going to happen to any of us,” Bernie said. “I promise.”

  Libby nodded. “And I second that promise. Let’s stop arguing.”

  Sean grinned. “Works for me.”

  Suddenly he felt better. The truth was, he hated being the bad guy to his girls, and had ever since they were little. He’d left that role to his wife, much to her chagrin. He was the one who’d given them candy before meals and let them drive his car around the parking lot when they were twelve.

  His wife, Rose, had called him a pushover when it came to them. And he was. And always would be. Not that any of his men or the civilians he dealt with over the years would have believed that about him, but fighting with his daughters just upset him. It was as simple as that. He leaned back as his daughters settled themselves on either side of the sofa across from him.

  When they’d
both gotten comfortable, Libby putting her feet up on the coffee table and Bernie folding her legs into a lotus position, he said, “I think it’s time that someone talked to Melissa.”

  “Richard’s probably talking to her already,” Libby observed.

  “I’m counting on it,” Sean said.

  Bernie gave him a quizzical look.

  Sean explained, “Now that you’ve stirred up the pot, so to speak, we might as well take advantage of it.” He looked out the window. It had begun to snow. Big fat flakes. They reminded him of Ivory Snow, the detergent his mom had used. “How about some tea?” he said to Libby. After this afternoon, he could certainly use something warm and soothing. “And a piece of your coconut cake wouldn’t be so bad either.”

  Libby cocked her head. “You never eat coconut cake, Dad. You always eat white cake with chocolate icing.”

  Sean folded his hands in his lap. “Well, I’ve decided that today is a day for trying new things. Having a piece of coconut cake is one of those new things.”

  “Maybe we should see Joyce on the way over to Melissa’s,” Bernie suggested.

  Sean nodded his assent. “Sounds like a plan to me.”

  Then he turned and watched the snow. It had gotten heavier in the past minute. It looked as if they were in for another storm. That would be two in the past week. He could be in Buffalo given the snow they were getting. Hopefully, this would be the last of it.

  He’d liked snow when he was younger, liked the way it made the town quiet and clean, liked riding around in his squad car helping people out of the ditches they’d slid into, but that was when he could walk without thinking about it. Now, he wasn’t so fond of the stuff. Even though it looked pretty, it was just another obstacle for him to have to overcome if he wanted to get from place to place. He shook his head to clear the negative thoughts away. No point in entertaining them. They didn’t help anything anyway. But lately they’d been swarming around him like a bunch of no-see-ums in the spring.

  A few minutes later, when Bernie and Libby had gone downstairs to get the tea and cake and check on things in the shop, Sean took his cell out of his pocket and called Ines. He wanted to see how she and Trudy were getting on. And, if truth be told, he liked hearing her voice. She had a knack for making him laugh.