Doggone Christmas: A Polly Parrett Pet-Sitter Cozy Murder Mystery (Polly Parrett Pet-Sitter Cozy Murder Mysteries Book 1)

by Liz Dodwell

  Tyler insisted on walking me to the door. I’d like to think it’s because I inspired his gentlemanly spirit, but I suspect it’s because he was afraid I’d fall and hurt myself and then he’d be stuck with me for a while. Anyway, at the door he let go my arm and I cursed myself for not hanging mistletoe from the lintel. So I was surprised and excited when he leaned toward me – he’s going to kiss me! – and gave me a chaste kiss on the cheek. Rats!

  Eleven

  The next morning was business as usual. One of my crew had slipped on ice and hurt her elbow. She was on the way to get it X-rayed; meanwhile, I’d have to pick up her visits.

  I was out the door at 7.30. At 12.30, weary and very hungry – there had been no time for breakfast – I found a parking spot near Bennie’s Diner and trudged inside. The diner was an institution, famous for its Mallowapple meatloaf. As far as I knew, there was actually no apple in the meatloaf, nor was there a Bennie. In fact, no-one knew who Bennie was. The current proprietress of the establishment was Nita, a middle-aged, motherly type who knew more about town gossip than the women who hung out at the Combing Attractions hair salon.

  Bennie’s always did a steady business but I got lucky and scored an empty window booth. The diner was only a few doors from the Indian restaurant where Tyler and I had eaten on the night we met Rooster, which meant it was also close to where the body had been found.

  Nita herself came to get my order.

  “Well, hi, hon. How ya doing? I hear you got yourself mixed up in a murder. What happened?”

  There’s nothing subtle about Nita’s insatiable desire for scandal. I tried to deflect her interest.

  “I’m really in a rush, Nita. Can I get my order in and then maybe we can chat if I have time?”

  “I already ordered the meatloaf for you, and Cindy’s bringing coffee. We’ll have a few minutes before your meal comes out.”

  Wow, the woman has this down to a fine art. I caved and gave her a very abbreviated version of events, by which time the food arrived and I stuffed my mouth so I couldn’t talk any more. Nita slid from the booth, then paused.

  “You know, the guy was in here just before it happened.

  I practically spit the food out. “Sit back down,” I spluttered. “You mean the victim?”

  “Don Hardwicke? Yeah.”

  “How do you know his name?”

  “That new officer; Rooney. He’s a strange one, he is. Acts like he’s Wyatt Earp or something. He was in here, too, that night.”

  My head was spinning. “Back up, Nita, and start from the beginning.”

  She slid back into the booth and I learned that Rooney had a thing for Cindy, the waitress, who couldn’t stand him. Smart girl. Trying to impress her, he’d given her his version of the incident, in which he single-handedly captured a dangerous criminal, the lying scumbag, and had let slip Hardwicke’s name.

  “Did he say anything else about the victim?”

  “No, but I chatted with the man a bit myself.” Of course you did, bless you. “He was a nice young man. Said he was a giftware and décor salesman. He was just passing through Mallowapple but the roads were so bad he decided it would be safer to stay the night. Do you believe it? He thought he’d be safe and he ends up dead. Poor man.”

  “Did you tell the sheriff this?”

  “Course I did. Not about the name, though. I didn’t know that ‘til after I spoke to the sheriff.”

  “Was there anything else that happened? Anything unusual?”

  “Now that you mention it, he left all of a sudden. Hadn’t even finished his dinner; just threw money on the table and hurried out. I wouldn’t have noticed ‘cept Cindy was saying good riddance that Rooney was out the door…. ”

  “Whoa, whoa! Rooney was here, too?”

  “That’s right. He just picked up a coffee to go. I dealt with him myself so he wouldn’t have a chance to bother her and was watching him walk out the door and that’s when Hardwicke got up and left.”

  “Did they notice each other – Rooney and Hardwicke?”

  “I couldn’t say, hon.”

  “Well, what time was it?”

  “I don’t know exactly, but it must have been about twenty minutes before the hullaballoo in the alley.”

  I asked Cindy a few questions, hoping she might have more to add, but that was that.

  I needed to share this with Tyler, so I gave Nita a big hug. “Don’t ever change anything about yourself.” Startled, she laughed, “Why ever would I?”

  Back in my van I hit speed dial. OK, so I have Tyler on speed dial; it’s no big deal.

  “I was just about to call you,” he answered.

  Without waiting to hear why, I blurted out my news.

  “Hmm, that’s pretty interesting.” That wasn’t exactly the level of excitement I was hoping to hear.

  “This opens up a whole lot of questions”

  “I get that,” he said, “but before we discuss it, let me tell you why I was going to call.”

  Oh, right. I forgot he had news as well.

  “Zill Granger stopped by with a sweater and jeans from Rooster, so I’m on the way home with them now. Elaine drank a little water this morning but still wouldn’t eat, so let’s hope this does the trick.

  “Granger also arranged for Rooster to call at three this afternoon. Can you be available?”

  It was already nearly two and I had a date with Mutz von Kuckenschutz, a young and energetic german shepherd who required an hour-long walk.

  “No problem; we can do a three-way call,” Tyler said. “I’ll call you as soon as I have Rooster on the line.”

  “Works for me,” I replied.

  “Think about what you want to ask or say. Rooster is only allowed 15 minutes and we don’t want to waste the time.”

  A little before the appointed hour, as I was settling Mutz back in his house, my phone rang. Expecting Rooster to be on the line I answered with a cheerful “Hey, Rooster.”

  “Polly, it’s only me.” Tyler. “I want to give you some good news quickly – Elaine ate some chicken. Your idea worked, Polly. She got Rooster’s scent from the clothes and her tail started wagging immediately. Now we don’t have to pretend everything’s alright.”

  “That’s wonderful. I’m so relieved.”

  “Me, too. Now hang up; Rooster should be calling any moment.”

  Twelve

  When the phone rang again a few minutes later, it was with a genuinely happy voice that I answered. Rooster, naturally, wanted to know all about Elaine, and Tyler and I gladly told him all was well.

  “She’s a sweetheart,” I said. “You’ve nothing to worry about.”

  “How do you like Zill Granger?” Tyler switched gears, conscious of the clock.

  “He’s a fine man. I don’t know how I’m ever going to repay you all for your help but I promise I’ll find a way.”

  We mumbled things like, ‘no need’ and ‘glad to,’ then asked a few questions in hopes Rooster might remember something helpful, but there was nothing new. He’d never heard of Donald Hardwicke, never been in Mallowapple before, hadn’t seen or heard anything unusual. “Except when Elaine growled,” he added.

  “What do you mean?” Tyler and I asked simultaneously.

  “She doesn’t have a mean bone in her body, but she growled at the officer.”

  “He was being aggressive toward you, so I wouldn’t think that’s so odd,” I said.

  “That’s not it. She started growling before he ever said a word or pulled his gun. It’s just not like her.

  “Look, they’re telling me I’ve got to go. Hug Elaine for me and tell her I love her.” He started to choke up. “And thank you both, again. Thank you, thank…..”

  Rooster’s voice cut off and for a moment there was silence.

  “Polly! Are you still there?”

  “I’m here. I’m just not sure what to say. This is all so wrong.”

  “Don’t lose faith. Granger says all the evidence is circumstantial. The
re’s nothing to tie Rooster to the body; no prints, no DNA.”

  I sighed. “That’s only what I expected, but it doesn’t get Rooster his freedom yet.”

  Thirteen

  For the next few days things hummed along much as usual. My one sitter was still out. I was able to spread her visits amongst the rest of my crew except for Tiddles, who needed three visits a day, five days a week.

  You might guess how Tiddles got her name. She was a lovely long-haired dachshund, and a puppy mill rescue. They’re notoriously hard to house train, but whenever Tiddles got excited or upset, well, she just couldn’t contain herself.

  Tiddles and her pet parents were fairly new clients and, frankly, I was having a harder time training them than their dog. Try getting two boisterous young boys to come through the door slowly and calmly and ignore their pup for a while. The mother wasn’t much better. She would talk to the pooch in a high-pitched baby voice – not that there’s anything wrong with that, I do it all the time – but it also triggered Tiddles tiddles. The good news was they loved their little pup and were committed to giving her a happy life.

  The roads had all been cleared and I was making my regular visits out to see Mom. She was still in a nostalgic mood, and I’d spoken to my brothers who both agreed it would be a great idea to plan one last family Christmas at the old home.

  Suzette had got into the habit of phoning each day to give me updates on Elaine. I was realizing that was indicative of her thoughtful, generous nature. She was still at Tyler’s and had issued a standing invitation to come over any time, but I’d just been too busy.

  During one call she had a request. Tyler was driving to Syracuse on business the next day, and Suzette wanted to go with him and do some Christmas shopping. Frank would be fine on his own, he could let himself out through the doggy door, but she wasn’t comfortable leaving Elaine. Would I take her?

  Of course, I was delighted. I had a full schedule, but Elaine could ride along for the day with me.

  So the following morning, Tyler and Suzette dropped Elaine off at my house on their way out of town. Tyler was wearing the suit he’d worn when he first came to Mom’s house - sans dog hair - and this time with a light gray shirt and skinny tie in a cornflower blue paisley pattern. He looked so sizzling hot he practically melted the ice off the doorstep.

  We made arrangements for the pair to collect Elaine when they got back, said our goodbyes and I watched as Tyler pulled away, wishing I could be the kind of arresting beauty who probably caught his eye.

  I’d already walked Angel, Vinny and Coco so I bundled Elaine into the van and off we went. My dogs are not allowed in the front seat but I made an exception for Elaine and let her sit beside me, thinking she might not like the van because driving was a pretty new experience for her. I needn’t have worried. She sat up, gazing with some apparent interest at the passing scenery. Whenever I made a stop, she waited placidly for me.

  By mid-morning, I figured I’d better give her a quick walk. We stopped in the town center, where there was a small park. I’d put Elaine into a harness that would be more secure than a collar. As if she understood that, she’d licked my hand and wagged her tail.

  So, there we were ambling around, Elaine sniffing the grass and me thinking she must be just about the sweetest dog in the world. She finally found a spot that suited her ‘business’ and I was just reaching for a doggy bag when she belied my earlier thought with a low, insistent growl.

  “You’d better be planning to pick that up.”

  By now I knew that voice – Rooney. Wordlessly, I turned while pulling my hand from my pocket with one of the pink, paw-print-branded baggies that I used for pick-up duty.

  Putting on the kind of syrupy voice that really irritates people, I held up the bag. “Perhaps you’d like to do the honors.”

  Rooney’s eyes narrowed and he stepped toward me, at which point sweet Elaine morphed into mean dog. She stood stiffly, head forward and ears back, her muzzle wrinkled to expose her teeth, a deep snarl in her throat. It halted Rooney in his tracks immediately.

  “That’s it. I’m calling this in and getting animal rescue to come and pick that beast up.”

  For a few beats I stopped breathing, then a flood of anger surged in me. I reached for my phone and started scrolling through the contacts.

  “What are you doing?”

  “I’m calling Sheriff Wisniewski to report you for threatening me, then I’m calling Zill Granger, my attorney.”

  Whether Rooney was more afraid of the sheriff or the lawyer I don’t know, but my ploy had him backing off faster than a scalded cat.

  “Hold up a minute. Let’s not be hasty.” He held his hands palms forward in a submissive gesture.

  “Hasty,” I retorted, “it’s not me being hasty.”

  “OK, maybe I jumped the gun.” There’s a truism for you. “But I’m an officer of the law and it’s my job to keep the town safe and you can’t deny she was aggressive to me.”

  “And you can’t deny you were threatening towards me about scooping poop. Besides, you’re the only one Elaine’s ever growled at.” Which shows really good taste. I didn’t add that last bit, of course.

  “Maybe I’ll let it go this time.”

  “This time? Are you saying there’ll be a next time? Are you stalking me, Rooney?”

  I must have hit a nerve, the man visibly paled.

  “Don’t be absurd. I’m an officer…”

  “Of the law. Yeah, yeah, so I heard.” I was on a roll now and ready to give him a real tongue-lashing, but in an effort to save some dignity he actually pretended to get a call over the radio. It was laughable. We both knew that he knew that I knew the call wasn’t real (did you get that?), but I decided it was wiser to go along with the hoax and just get rid of him.

  “You’d better go where you’re needed, Rooney.”

  He had to throw a few last words at me as he stalked off. “I won’t forget this, Miss pet-sitter.” And he wasn’t saying it in an endearing sort of way.

  Even though I had no undies hanging in the bathroom, I was relieved when Tyler and Suzette declined my offer to come in when they arrived to collect Elaine. Frankly, I was embarrassed for Suzette to see what a sloppy housekeeper I was, when she could have been the next Martha Stewart.

  “I do have some news for you, though,” I said, to which Suzette immediately suggested I come with them.

  “Thanks, but I have to deal with payroll tonight or I won’t have anyone working for me.” Then to Tyler I said, “Call me later if you have time.”

  I gave Elaine a great big hug, said my goodbyes and girded my loins for paperwork.

  A big glass of wine was at my side; my reward for completing my fiscal duties. I was about to take a sip when Tyler phoned. I launched into an account of my confrontation with Rooney. In the telling, some of my agitation came back but I didn’t realize it until Tyler interrupted.

  “Calm down, Polly. Take a deep breath and another sip of wine.”

  “How do you know I’m drinking wine?”

  “I saw a bottle on the table when you brought Elaine to the door.”

  I laughed. “OK, Sherlock, now tell me who killed Donald Hardwicke.”

  “That I can’t do, yet, but I can tell you his wife is in town.”

  “Really?”

  “My dad told me. You remember he and the sheriff are pals: they had a card game last night and Wisniewski said the wife is at the C’mon Inn with her father. They had to identify the body and apparently are staying a few more days.”

  “Hmmm. I wonder if they’d talk to us.”

  “I’m not sure how it would help,” Tyler said. “I suppose it’s worth a try, though.”

  So we agreed to meet at the inn the following morning, then I went back to my thoughts and my wine.

  Fourteen

  The text read, ‘Can’t make it, can you go it alone?’ I was already at the door of the C’mon Inn when Tyler’s message came through. Having never conducted an int
erview in a murder investigation before I was a little unnerved at being in sole charge, but I certainly wasn’t going to let Tyler know that. I replied, ‘No problem.’

  Hattie Pan was the proprietress of the inn, a tall, angular woman, brittle as old bones. Her late husband had been the jovial side of the partnership, but despite her lack of congeniality she ran a clean and charming establishment and had a steady business. She also had a pair of Siamese named Chatty and Kathy, with whom I was on speaking terms as their caregiver when Hattie visited her family in Ohio once a year.

  “Hi, Hattie.” I leaned casually against the reception desk as Hattie responded to the dinging of the bell.

  “Oh, it’s you,” spoken with a nasal twang while looking down said nose.

  “I’m looking for Mrs. Hardwicke. Can you give me her room number?”

  “And just why would you want to see her, Polly Parrett? She doesn’t have any pets with her.”

  “How are your little darlings, by the way?”

  In an instant her demeanor softened and she began to prattle on about Chatty typing on the computer keyboard and Kathy balancing on the curtain rod. I oohed and awwwed in the right places until she wound down. Then I gave her my spiel.

  “You know it was me who interrupted the scene in the alley where Donald Hardwicke was found? Well, I just want to give my condolences to his family and see if I can answer any questions that might help them find some closure.” I cringed as I said the lie. Though if they could tell me anything that would help me find the real killer, then I would be bringing closure, wouldn’t I?

  Hattie’s lips tightened into a thin line. Well, a thinner line. Then she exhaled loudly. “Perhaps I could call up to the room.”

  A few minutes later, a fifty-something man stepped into the lounge where I was waiting.

  “Miss Parrett?”

  “Yes,” I held out my hand, “thank you for seeing me, and I’m so terribly sorry about your son-in-law.”

  “Actually, I really don’t know why you’re here.”

  I took a deep breath. “I was there when Rooster – that’s Mr. Roosevelt – was arrested. Since then, I’ve come to know him and I don’t believe he murdered Donald. I was hoping to talk to you and your daughter and perhaps find some clue to the real killer.”