I absently twirled the ring on my finger and then my blood ran cold. Well colder than the frigid wind blasting at me was already making me. I wasn't blessed with a built-in fur coat like my Cal was. I was getting married, who was I going to ask to be my maid of honor without upsetting anyone? Kerry was my oldest friend, but she had been out of my life for so long. Jessie was my current bestie. But if I chose her over family, over Rebecca or my favorite cousin, Polly, who just happened to also be my lawyer, would they be hurt?
I texted '911' to mom in a panic. This was not good! The rest of the planning I was so looking forward to. I could organize it all, and make lists! I loved lists! I could print and collate and laminate them. It was going to be so much fun! Oh, I could make a list of the lists I'll need!
Mom surprised me by calling instead of texting back as big, fluffy flakes of snow started falling from a grey sky. Before I could even say hello when I accepted the call, she was blurting out, “Fin! Are you alright? Did you call Jane? What's happening?”
I blinked at the phone. By the swishing tail and lolling tongue, why did everyone just assume I was a magnet for misfortune? Well, fine, I guess there were the bodies... and the kidnapping... and... ok, I see it now.
I reassured her. “I'm fine mom. Well, not fine. I'm panicking. Who do I ask to be my maid of honor without hurting anyone's feelings?”
There was a moment of silence, and I could imagine her gathering her wits about her. “Oh Tempe. I thought the worst.”
“The worst? What can be worse than this?”
She chuckled out, “You'll think of something, baby girl. And everyone would be thrilled just to be bridesmaids, sweetheart.” Ooo bridesmaids. Dresses. They'd all look so pretty, and ha! I'd get to see Ker finally wear a dress. She always teases me about mine.
Cal and I arrived at the Havermail's Baked Goods storefront on Park Avenue and said, “Mom, gotta call you back. I have to pick something up for Jane.”
She chuckled a bit. What? “Ok, Fin. We can discuss your wedding later. I'm so excited.”
“Me too. Love you, mom.”
“Love you too, sweetie. Bye.”
I grinned as I hung up, knowing that soon, I could just drop by her place to talk instead of calling. I had to talk to her about her search for an apartment too. We would be finishing the renovation of three of the five apartments above Central Park Tails in a couple weeks. Two are tiny studios, but the other is a decent sized two bedroom apartment on the corner of the building.
We were going to use the rent money to pay the mortgage on the building and use whatever was left over to supplement the funding to the shelter, so it wasn't just Calvin's trust fund and donations funding it.
But if mom liked the apartment, it would be perfect all around.
I sighed in relief at the fancy, antique looking “Open 6am-Noon Christmas Day and New Years Day” sign in the window.
As I opened the heavy oak door with its leaded, beveled glass, into the positively posh and upscale bakery, a little bell above the door tinkling, I marveled at how I was becoming some sort of real estate maven in the city, through no fault of my own. I owned a full eighth of the building Jane and my apartment resided in, I owned an underground parking space, and the Central Park Tails building, which when the renovation is finished, will have the five rentals in it. I was hoping to woo some dog walkers with affordable rent, I may be an independent, but I have all their backs like they had mine.
Not to mention Calvin's mom's old condo in the 855 Building, which I only charge Gar and Bek for utilities and property taxes to live there.
My original five-year plan called for me to only own my own apartment by then. How could I have planned for this? My life seemed to have a life of its own as it made spaghetti of my well-structured plan. The audacity of it.
The place looked empty, and I thought I smelled something burning. I called out, “Hellooo? Is anyone here?”
No answer. I looked down at Cal, and he looked up at me, his tail swishing once in anticipation. Silly boy.
I walked past the antique tables and chairs which were set up like some sort of high-class cafe, and up to the pastry cases. The burning smell was more pronounced. My eyes widened. This was definitely not a Rocket Bakery. The pastries, confections, and bread all looked like works of art.
My mouth quirked into a smile as I saw the cheesecake danish. And as advertised by Jess, it had a drizzle of icing in a delicate, decorative pattern which looked as though it was crafted by some sort of fairy with sugary wings.
I called out again, looking toward the doorway into the kitchen beyond, where smoke was starting to drift out. They must be attending to the burning bread. Probably too much celebration last night had them distracted, and they burned some loaves.
When the smoke just kept increasing until the smoke alarms started screaming and pulsating, causing me to grit my teeth and Calvin to start whining with his tail tucked neatly between his legs, I figured that something was wrong.
I called out again I started making my way to the end of the cases to look back into the kitchen. “Hello?” Then I froze and realized none of my canine curses would fit here as I blurted, “Shit!” when nylon encased legs, and some sublime Jimmy Choo kitten heels came into view on the floor.
I ran to the slightly plump, fifty-something woman in an elegant business skirt and apron on the floor. She lay unmoving, with one hand grasping her chest and the other holding a piece of paper in a tight fist, eyes wide.
I was hyperventilating and starting to cough from the smoke that was thickening at the ceiling as I slid to my knees over her, shaking her. “Ma'am? Ma'am, are you ok?” I knew she wasn't, that unblinking stare told me all I needed to know even before I placed my fingers on her neck. There was no pulse, and she was a little rigid, rigor mortis had started to set in. The poor woman had died.
Tears were streaming down my cheeks as I looked at her then stumbled up quickly to run into the kitchen. There were actual flames inside one of the large commercial ovens. And I grabbed a towel by the sink to pull the door down, crouching low to avoid the inevitable rush of heat, flame, and billowing black smoke. Then, not knowing the controls on the oven, I moved to the wall in my panic, the metal wrapped cable didn't go to a plug like I hoped.
Calvin was barking at me and gently biting my arm to tug at me, wanting to get me out of there. I looked at the power box the cable was wired into, and I pulled down the metal lever on the side, cutting power to the unit.
Then I glanced around frantically, and my eyes glommed onto the red cylinder on the wall. I untangled myself from Cal and ran to it and pulled it from the wall. I looked at the instructions on it and pulled the pin. Then it said to pull the lever. I did, and the rubber hose with the nozzle whipped around. I hated when I panicked, I was normally more intelligent than that.
I got dusted by the nozzle before I released the lever and grabbed the hose and aimed at the flaming loaves of some sort of fancy knotted bread. The force of the fire extinguisher blew the offending loaves of fiery doom to the back of the oven, leaving them looking like frosted charcoal briquets from hell, but the fire was out.
I couldn't swallow, as my heart was in my throat, threatening to explode out of it like some sort of alien in a budget thriller. I exhaled shakily instead. Looking at Calvin and cringing at the deafening smoke detectors as the haze of smoke sort of settled near the ceiling.
I pulled my cell and dialed the first number in my contacts. I know 911 would have been smarter, but she'd do that for me, knowing just what to do. On the second ring, a happy and seductive voice answered, “If it isn't dog walker extraordinaire, Miss Finnegan May. How goes...”
I interrupted as I rushed out in half sob, half whine, “Don't arrest me again.”
Jane was immediately in cop mode, and that calmed me a little as I went back out and fell to my knees by the poor woman and reached out a shaky hand to slide down her face to close her eyes. The poor woman deser
ved more dignity than staring off into space for eternity. “What did you do now Fin? Are you ok?”
I forced the rising bile down and blurted out what seemed to be a constant stream of babbled words like heart attack, body, woman, fire, Havermail's and danish. It was just my good luck that Jane could translate Finnegese.
“Finnegan? Finnegan? Finny, listen to me!”
I blinked and nodded at the phone, even though I knew logically she couldn't see me. I could hear the clickity-clack of her fingers flying over her keyboard.
“I want you to take Calvin outside. Wait there. I have the fire department on the way. Kennedy and Garcia will be there in a minute. Just take the time to breathe. Are you ok? Did you inhale the smoke?”
“No... yes... sort of. I put the fire out.”
Kennedy and Garcia? I like them. They always take care of me whenever I find myself in trouble like this. They say it is because they are scared of Jane, but I count them as my friends. Just how messed up is my life that officers are around me so much that I see them as friends? Calvin agreed with the summation of my life as he whined as I stood to move us outside. Barely cognoscente of Jane saying to hold tight and she'd be right here.
She made me assure her I was ok, before hanging up.
I hesitated as I put my phone away and looked at the paper the woman was grasping. I crouched to tug at it, but she had a good hold on it in death. So I craned my neck to look at the front side and blinked. It was like those notes serial killers left. Each word was cut from a magazine or newspaper and glued onto the page.
It read, 'If you want to see Tinkerbell again, bring twenty thousand to the Eiffel Tower at five tonight. If you call the police, we will put the dog down.'
I froze in shock. It was some deranged note out of a crime show. They had kidnapped her Tinkerbell? I moved a bit of the note with my finger to see a newspaper clipping of a huge Great Dane with the headline, 'Best In Show – Tinkerbell Havermail.' I covered my mouth. I remember that dog show, there was a controversy at the end when the owner of the second place dog, a toy poodle, FiFi, had accused the judges of bias. But Tinkerbell's win had been upheld.
And now, some bad guys had taken Mrs. Havermail's famous fuzzy baby, and she had a heart attack or something when she read the ransom note! I wiped another tear from my cheeks, smearing whatever the extinguisher had blown all over me.
We moved outside, and I slipped down the wall to sit my butt on the cold snow, Calvin draped over me as if to keep me warm. I remember when the Great Dane had taken best in show at the AKC show two years back. Tinkerbell was a superstar in dog lover circles. And some... some jerk face kidnapped her and caused the death of her mom.
I spent the next two minutes, fighting the urge to vomit. Jane had to find the poor woman's dog. I absently stared at the various signs and handbills in the window, trying to keep my mind off the tragedy inside. I felt as if I had abandoned the woman in death just leaving her lying in there.
A short half second blurt of a police siren had me looking over as the guys pulled up in their cruiser, Jorge jumping out of the passenger side almost before they completely stopped. His hand was on his weapon at his hip, eyes scanning for danger as he asked while quickly approaching, “Finnegan? Are you ok?”
I stood and engulfed him in a tight hug, letting that word salad flow from my mouth again as Officer Kennedy joined us. The men seemed to understand the gibberish, and the silver-haired Kennedy just nodded at his partner, who stayed with me, and he moved into the building as we heard sirens approaching in the distance.
I squeaked to Jorge, “I'm sorry.”
He chuckled and patted my hair as he shushed me, saying, “You look like crap Fin. You sure you're ok? What's all over you?”
I had to chuckle even though I was still fighting my gag reflex. “Had a fight with a fire extinguisher. I won.”
He chuckled then held me at arm's length to look me over. “Of course you did.” Then he asked, “Why couldn't you just have a nice, normal holiday, like everyone else?”
I grinned and slapped his shoulder. I knew what he was doing, and I appreciated it. I hesitated as I noticed the infernal screaming of the smoke detectors had finally ceased, letting me think a little.
I hadn't even noticed the other vehicle which had pulled up until I was pulled from Jorge into a warm and almost desperate hug. The scent of lilacs, leather and gun oil enveloped me, making me feel instantly safe as I just squeaked, “Jane!”
She did the same thing Garcia had and held me at arm's length to look me up and down, her hands pushing my loose curls back over my shoulders. Reassuring herself that I was ok. I said as she squatted a little to scratch one of Calvin's ears, “They kidnapped her puppy! She... she's...”
Kennedy stepped out and said, “Rigor has started to set in... she's been dead a while.”
That was it. I heaved once, Jane doing almost a matrix move to get out of the way, and I threw up on poor Jorge. I didn't do good with death. Never have. I blushed in embarrassment as the poor young Hispanic man looked down at his uniform with a sour look. Jane chuckled at him with no sympathy in her tone, “Welcome to the club, Garcia.”
What? She'll never let me live down throwing up on her boots the first time we met. She's been exceptionally nimble to avoid a repeat since then. I swear she is just waiting for it now.
Kennedy just ignored his partner's distress and continued as he moved his hand from the mic on his shoulder. “Coroner is inbound.”
Jane nodded to him and said, “Start taping it up. It wasn't just a heart attack. Fin says a crime was involved.”
He nodded and affirmed, “I gathered, from what the victim was holding. We'll need an evidence bag.”
Then he said with a sarcastic grin full of resignation, “Merry Christmas.”
I knew they used inappropriate humor in situations like that so that they could put up emotional shields, or the job would slowly poison them, eating at them one tragedy at a time, until there was nothing left.
Jane looked at me as a fire truck, and an ambulance arrived. Kennedy apprised the firemen of what was going on. The man went inside with him as the others stood at the ready or until they were given the all clear.
My personal detective waved the medics over. I grumped out to her, “I said I was fine.” How could she worry about me when a poor woman was dead just inside?
She shrugged, brushing off my assurances. “Don't hate me for not taking your word for it.” She was so protective of me it was almost aggravating. A traitorous part of me pointed out that it made me feel loved. Like I was important to her.
I sighed in defeat while the medics started checking me over as they slid a blood pressure cuff on me.
Jane smirked and asked, “Jeans? And how did you know about my danishes? Jess!”
Doh! She knew I was coming to seductively tease her at work. I was mortified and felt the blush burning on my face.
Kennedy asked as he came back out, handing Jorge some napkins to wipe down his uniform, “Are those rings on your fingers?”
Garcia lost the disgusted look on his face and brightened as he turned his gaze to our hands. Then the evil man said, “It's about damn time.” Then he asked Kennedy, “Who won the pool?”
By the canine toe feathers, they had a pool on Jane and me? The smug look on Kennedy's face told me who won.
I pouted. “Hey.”
The medic looked at Jane instead of me and just nodded once. Why did everyone think she was in charge?
She smirked at me, reading me like an open book, then said, “You're a mess, Finny.”
She looked to Jorge who was still trying to clean up while Kennedy got some police tape out of their trunk. “Get her to the station and let her clean up. I'll get her statement after I'm done here.”
He nodded once, and she handed me off almost like one would hand off a small child. I stomped her toe and followed the grinning latino man. Then I turned back. “Thank you, Jane.
”
She just winked at me, and I muttered to the smug woman, “You're just lucky I love you, jerk.” This just made her beam, and I had to turn away before my smile gave me away.
I let out an exasperated huff when he opened the back passenger door. He chuckled. “Sorry, force of habit.” Then he opened the front door for me and Calvin to slide in. I crinkled my nose at him in thanks. For once, I wasn't getting arrested for something I didn't do. I guess there is a first for everything.
I watched Jane watch me as we drove away. She didn't turn to her work until we started to turn on the next corner. Jorge said, “You two have it bad for each other,” as Calvin sat high in the seat to look out the window to see where we were going.
I shrugged, feeling bashful. We made our way along the slick streets, windshield wipers on full to keep the ever-increasing amounts of falling snow off of it. It was looking almost like another blizzard was on its way to punish the city.
He wondered aloud, “I don't know how you do it, Finnegan.”
I cocked my head in question, realizing as I did it how much like Calvin that was. Dear lord, I was picking up canine habits now. A hazard of my trade.
He clarified, “You thawed the Ice Queen of the station, and she's more human and approachable, especially when you're around.”
I chuckled. Ice Queen of the station?
I knew everyone was sort of afraid of her. She has a no-nonsense approach to her job, and she was relentless in her quest for justice for the victims of every case that comes across her desk. I hear she would have become the captain of the station even at her young age if she were more approachable. But she's shared with me once that she'd turn it down anyway since she believes she can do more good on the streets.
And she was anything but icy to me. It always felt like we were standing in the heart of a furnace whenever she looked at me and held me.
Once we pulled into the station, he led Calvin and me inside, and I stopped in the hall when we passed the stairs up to the bullpen where Jane's office was. I narrowed my eyes at the smiling man who had been bringing me to booking!
Case of the Great Danish Page 5
