Till Death Do Us Bark (Happy Tails Dog Walking Mysteries Book 2)

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Till Death Do Us Bark (Happy Tails Dog Walking Mysteries Book 2) Page 11

by Stella St. Claire


  “Sweetheart, you’re not an idiot.” He reached across the table and clasped her hand. “You just like to see the good in everyone. It sounds like Patricia had motive, so does that mean that we can put this whole thing behind us?”

  Olivia grimaced. “Janelle is certain that Patricia didn’t do it. She’s asked me to try and help.”

  Andrew groaned and leaned back. “I should have known. Tell me what happened.”

  Sitting up, Olivia launched into her story. She told him about Rachel and Lacy’s history and how it was possible that Rachel was setting Patricia up. “Unfortunately. If Rachel really wanted to work with Lacy again, I don’t think that killing her is really the answer. I’m going to visit Tina tomorrow and try to get some more information about Rachel and maybe get Tina to give me some more advice about the wedding. Two birds, one stone.”

  “Or you could just plan the wedding yourself,” Andrew reminded her. “That’s what you said you wanted to do in the beginning.”

  “That’s before this whole curse mess happened. Did you see the blog on the newspaper website? I’m the laughingstock of the town. Now I have to prove that I’m good enough to marry you. It’s ridiculous.”

  Andrew raised an eyebrow. “That doesn’t explain why you hired Lacy. Olivia, I’m really concerned about how you’re approaching this whole wedding thing. If it’s too much stress, we can just go to the courthouse and—“

  “No,” she said sharply. “We’re going to do this right!”

  He sighed and reached for his beer. She wanted for him to tell her that everything would be okay, but he just studied her intently over the rim of his glass. She was starting to miss the moments where he was losing his temper with her. At least then she knew what was going on in his head.

  Their food came, and they ate in an uncomfortable silence. By the time dinner was over, she was so upset that she wanted to just bolt from the table. When they got up, he reached over and took her hand, and he held on firmly as they walked out of the restaurant. “I’ll see you at home,” he said as he squeezed it reassuringly.

  She only felt marginally better as they got into their separate vehicles. Blasting her favorite tunes in her car, she tried to clear her mind. For twenty minutes, she didn’t obsess about the case or worry about the rumors. She didn’t stress over the wedding plans, and she didn’t mull over Andrew’s strange behavior.

  Andrew pulled into the driveway right before she did. Like a gentleman, he opened her car door and bowed low as he swept his arm out. “Milady,” he said in a low voice.

  Laughing, Olivia got out and let him shut the door behind her. “Why, thank you!” she cooed. “Do I have to tip you now?”

  “I’m sure you’ll figure out some way to thank me,” he said with a wink that sent shivers down her spine. Apparently, he’d found a way to relax, just as she had on the way home.

  As they approached the door, they could hear Goodwin going nuts inside the house. Normally, he recognized the sound of their cars and didn't bark. "I wonder what's gotten into him," she muttered.

  "He's just glad that we're home." Wrapping an arm around her waist, he guided her up the sidewalk.

  There was a small cardboard box sitting outside the door.

  “Are you waiting on a package?” she asked as he bent down.

  “No.” He picked it up and frowned. “It’s got your name on it, but it’s not addressed. Someone just dropped it off.”

  “Weird. Maybe it’s a sample from one of the vendors.”

  Andrew pulled out his pocketknife and slit it open. Even before he reached inside, the strong scent of almonds hit her. “No!” Knocking the box out of his hands, she grabbed his arm and pulled him down the steps.

  “Olivia!” He stumbled after her. “What’s wrong?”

  Looking over her shoulder, she saw the red cupcake that was smashed on the ground. A piece of paper fluttered to the ground. “Call Nick,” she said in a shaky voice.

  The message on the note was all too clear under the porch light. Keep digging and you’ll be dead before you reach the altar.

  By the time Nick arrived, Andrew was shaking with anger. The paramedics kept trying to look them over, but he waved them off. All of his focus was on Olivia, and from the way that she averted her eyes, he could tell that she was hiding something from him.

  When the sheriff’s squad car pulled up, Olivia tried to go to meet Nick, but Andrew put a hand on her arm. “Stay here,” he said quietly. “I want to talk to him first.”

  “Andrew—“

  “Stay here.” There was no room for argument in his voice, and she sagged back against the ambulance. Striding to Nick, he glanced at the other houses on the street. Curtains were fluttering as neighbors peered out curiously. He hoped that someone had seen the person who’d left the deadly present at their door.

  “Andrew,” Nick greeted in a tired voice. “Are you and Olivia all right?”

  He nodded. “She smelled almonds, but I don’t think it was meant to kill her. I think it was just meant to warn her away. Any ideas why someone would be targeting her?”

  The older man pulled out his phone. “I imagine that it has something to do with this.”

  Andrew scrolled through the blog, remembering that Olivia had mentioned it earlier, and his lips tightened. No wonder she’d been upset. He hated seeing the way they were slandering her, but it wasn’t until he saw the comment at the bottom of the page that he understood why Nick was showing it to him.

  Apparently, Olivia had already spoken to the reporter and had a warning of her own.

  “I imagine after helping collar Samantha, the killer thinks that Olivia has a real affinity for solving cases,” Nick said gruffly. “I tried to warn her away. I was afraid that something like this would happen.”

  Shaking his head, Andrew handed the phone back. “I sort of told Olivia that I was okay if she looked into things,” he admitted. “But I had no idea that it would go this far. Do you think the baker that you arrested is the killer?”

  “The evidence is pretty damning, so we’re holding her. Unless we can turn up some concrete evidence in the next twenty-four hours that suggests that she didn’t do it, I’ll have to arrest her. There’s just something that doesn’t sit well with me, though. She had to know that it would point back to her.”

  “If she’s been with you this whole time, then it’s not possible that she left the present on the door,” Andrew mused.

  “That doesn’t mean that she didn’t put someone else up to it,” Nick pointed out. “Hell, I sometimes get my neighbor’s kid to deliver things for me. I’ll have the deputies canvas the neighborhood. Maybe someone saw something, Old Man Cramer is always writing things down in that notebook of his.”

  Andrew looked over at their next-door neighbor’s house, but there was no sign that the older man was even home. “Do you think we should get a hotel until this case blows over?”

  “If I thought that Olivia would keep it to herself, I would say yes,” Nick said grimly. “But since I don’t see that happening, I’m not certain that she’d be any safer there. Until I can close this case, I would say make sure that she is never alone.”

  Turning around, Andrew looked over at his fiancée. She looked so small and helpless as the paramedics examined her, but he knew that she was anything but. Nick was right. This wouldn’t do anything to deter her. Instead, it would just convince her that she was on the right track.

  Before, he’d just been worried about what this wedding was doing to her—to them. But that was the least of his problems. Whatever feelings he had about her crazy wedding obsession would have to go on the back burner. He wasn’t crazy about Olivia investigating, but now he knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep until the real killer was behind bars.

  14

  Rose's hands balled into fists as she stared at the corpse floating in the water. He couldn't have been dead for more than a day, but it meant that he hadn't left that lovely little present in her car.

  Still
, just because he was dead didn't mean that he hadn't killed his wife. It just meant that this case had gotten a whole lot more interesting.

  The husband killed the wife. Who killed the husband? It was a long list. First there was the husband's girlfriend. Then there was the wife's sister. The husband's business partner. The wife's secret admirer.

  The questions were piling up, and Rose was no closer to getting any answers.

  "Rose," Lieutenant Dawson said in a quiet voice. "You can't be here."

  "If you think that I'm going to drop this just because he's dead, you're wrong," she muttered. "I still aim to prove that he killed his wife."

  "What if you're wrong, Rose? I'm sure that's happened before."

  It had. Once. Rose couldn't think back to that moment without her heart aching. "I'm not wrong now." Stepping away from him, she ignored the pity that she saw in his eyes.

  She wasn't losing her touch. No matter what they said.

  When Olivia woke up the next morning, she discovered that she wasn’t alone. Only it wasn’t Andrew in the bed with her. Janelle sat up against the headboard and stared at her. Her feet were crossed at the ankle, and she looked almost relaxed.

  “God!” Olivia yelped in surprise. “Janelle. What are you doing here?”

  “Andrew called,” she said as she glowered at Olivia. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me that someone tried to kill you!”

  “It was just a warning,” Olivia grumbled as she stretched and tried to work out the kinks in her shoulder. “Did you really break into my house this morning to yell at me?” She’d barely slept a wink last night, and knowing that Andrew was also awake made it even worse. He didn’t say anything about her continuing to investigate, but she could tell that he was angry. The problem was that she couldn’t figure out if he was angry at her or at the situation. Eventually, she'd stuck her ear buds in so she could listen to more of her story. She must have finally fallen asleep halfway through the chapter.

  “Of course not,” Janelle said primly. “I have a key—so it’s hardly breaking in. Besides, Andrew asked me to come over. You’re not to be alone—ever—until the real killer is arrested. Honestly, I don’t know how you get yourself into these messes.”

  “You asked me to help you prove that Patricia was innocent,” Olivia pointed out as she slipped from the bed. Scratching Goodwin and then Fender on the head, she searched for something to wear. Pulling on a wrinkled t-shirt and a pair of yoga pants, she wondered briefly if she should take a shower. Instead, she decided that getting coffee was a more pressing issue. To her annoyance, Janelle got out of bed and followed her to the kitchen.

  “I didn’t tell you to taunt the killer! Have you lost your mind? What were you thinking?”

  Coffee. God, she needed coffee. “I was thinking that the killer would reveal their hand if I pushed hard enough. And it worked.”

  “So Nick was able to figure out who left that box on your porch?”

  “No,” Olivia admitted. There was half a pot of coffee still on the warmer, and she mentally thanked her beautiful boyfriend. “But they’re processing it now. Who knows what they’ll find out when they examine it?”

  Janelle suddenly reached out and grabbed her arm. There was a stricken look on her face “Olivia, I know I asked for your help, but I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

  Olivia pulled her sister into a hug. “It’s going to be okay,” she whispered. “I won’t be alone, and I’m not going to give up. I know Nick thinks that Patricia could have had a messenger drop off the box while she was in jail, but I don’t think she did. I think we really need to examine Rachel.”

  Janelle bit her bottom lip. “I talked to Nick this morning. Patricia can’t afford a lawyer, so she’s waiting for a public defender from Lowell. Nick is going to charge her tonight with the murder if we can’t prove something different.”

  “Is he going to question Rachel?”

  “He said that he already did. He doesn’t see a motive.”

  Pouring her coffee, Olivia frowned. “She delivered the murder weapon. That’s suspicious enough, but if she lied about why she went to see Lacy, that’s motive. Tina told me that Rachel and Lacy didn't part on good terms. Of course, it seems like Lacy had arguments with everyone.” She pulled the creamer from the fridge, shook it—not much left, time to buy more—emptied it into her coffee, and tossed the carton into the sink, to be rinsed and recycled later. First things first. She picked up the mug and cradled it in her hands for a moment.

  Janelle watched her in silence. “So what are we going to do?”

  Taking those first few sips of the warm, creamy, hazelnut-flavored liquid was heaven. Olivia smiled. “We’re going to pay Tina a visit. Maybe once she hears that Rachel was looking for employment elsewhere, she’ll be far more open to giving us all the details on Rachel. With any luck, Rachel will be taking Patricia’s place tonight.”

  Her sister looked skeptical. “We’re just going to walk up to Tina and tell her that Rachel wanted to go back and work for Lacy?”

  “Of course not.” Olivia reached over and grabbed the folder of wedding brochures on the table. “We’re going to finish planning my wedding!”

  Janelle groaned, but Olivia ignored her. She was feeling optimistic about today. The real killer was obviously scared that she was about to bring them down, and maybe today, she’d figure out why Janelle was so uninterested in her wedding.

  In fact, as she got ready, she was practically whistling.

  Twenty minutes later, they walked into Candlelight Farms. Tina was nowhere to be found, but Rachel was dusting the purple silk flowers that were on display. They’d redone the whole store in violets and blues and accents of creamy ivory. The satin bows shone against the darker colors, creating a breathtaking scheme.

  Instantly Olivia wondered if she should change her color scheme to something darker and more dramatic. Gripping her wedding book in her arms, she smiled brightly. “Hi, Rachel!”

  The young woman scrambled down from the ladder and gasped. “What are you doing here?”

  Poison practically dripped from her words, but Olivia couldn’t tell if it was because the whole town thought she was cursed, or if it was because Rachel had really killed Lacy. Ignoring both possibilities, Olivia continued as if nothing strange was happening.

  “Rachel, I’m not sure you’ve met my sister, Janelle. She owns Happy Endings baked goods. She doesn’t normally do large parties, but she’s making an exception for my wedding because she loves me, and she’s just so happy that I’m getting married.” Olivia said the last part pointedly and watched as Janelle shifted nervously from foot to foot. “Anyway, I was wondering if Tina was in? I was hoping that she could look at my wedding binder and give me some pointers on where to go from here. I’m starting to think that I should just start all over.”

  After folding up the ladder and leaning it against the wall, Rachel headed for the door, and Olivia knew exactly what she was planning on doing. Before getting booted, she stepped in front of the woman and threw down the challenge. “Unless, of course, you don’t think that you and Tina are good enough to finish what Lacy started.”

  The assistant’s eyes narrowed, and she reached out and yanked the book out of Olivia’s arms. Without another word, she marched to the table and threw it down. As she flipped through the pages, her lips curled more and more in disgust. “First of all, you don’t have the right head shape for a veil. And really? Peach tulle draped everywhere?”

  Janelle grimaced. “Really?” she whispered. “Peach decorations, too?”

  “You can’t possibly expect to have all these candles placed everywhere without setting something on fire. A single tall candle in a hurricane in the middle of the table is fine,” Rachel continued. “Six candles on a table are just asking for trouble. And really? Salmon-colored tablecloths. That’s just hideous!”

  Olivia caught Janelle’s horrified gaze, and she ducked her head. “Lacy picked most of that.”

  “I don’t
understand. When I asked you what colors you were thinking of, you told me you wanted soft greens and maroon. How did that change?” her sister questioned.

  Rachel smiled smugly. “It changed because, to save money, Lacy used the cheapest fabrics and pretended they were very exclusive. She only has—had so many different color schemes to use.” She shut the book. “Seriously? I would burn this book and start over. Lacy might have been a salesperson, but she was no wedding planner. I did most of the work when we were together, but when she stole my one-stop-shopping wedding idea, I knew it was time to branch out on my own.”

  Olivia took the opportunity to focus things back to the investigation. “Why would you want to work with her again?’

  “Once she got her claws on that venue, I knew it was over. She’d take everything. I hate the woman, but I figured the only way I’m going to make it on my own is to have her on my side. Keep your enemies close, right? Once I started working with her again, I was going to expose her for the fraud that she is. I was going to take that bitch for everything she had.”

  “Rachel!” Tina’s sharp voice carried from the back, and everyone turned around. The wedding planner hurried to them. “I need you pick up the new personalized champagne glasses at Remembrances.”

  “But—“

  “Now.”

  Rachel narrowed her eyes, but she grabbed her keys and stomped out of the store. When they were alone, Tina’s shoulders slumped, and she forced a smile. “I’m so sorry that you had to witness that. Rachel is still angry over what Lacy did to her.”

  Olivia watched her closely. “Did you know that Rachel wanted to work with Lacy again?”

  “I know that she was unhappy with how little work I had for her, and I knew that she wanted revenge, but no. I had no idea that she’d gone to Lacy personally.” Tina put a hand over her chest. “To think that she delivered the very cake that killed Lacy.”

  “She doesn’t seem as torn up about it as you,” Janelle pointed out.

 

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