Pineapple Puppies

by Amy Vansant

  Charlotte considered this. “The girls might be too old for puppies now. They might be all about boys and their phones at this point. Payne seems to be in a classic teenage petulant funk.”

  “Other one’s quiet,” observed Frank.

  “Lyndsey said that’s how they are. Said Payne lives up to her name.”

  Frank chuckled. “Probably all teenagers should be named Payne.”

  Carter returned his hat to his head. “Well, we’ll see what the coroner thinks of everything. Thanks for bringing the puppies around, Frank, and nice to meet you, Charlotte. Keep up the good work.”

  He shook Charlotte’s hand, pairing the shake with a grin-wink combo she could only describe as cheesy. She couldn’t tell if he was flirting, condescending, or just one of those guys who thought women found winking charming. Carter didn’t seem like a bad guy, but he was definitely pretty impressed with himself.

  Carter headed toward the barn. “Think I’ll go talk to that horse lady before I go.”

  Charlotte glanced at Carter’s hand. No wedding ring.

  Heads up, Lyndsey. She wondered if the horse trainer liked a man in uniform.

  Charlotte and Frank returned to his cruiser and headed back to Pineapple Port.

  “So what do you think?” asked Frank as they strolled down the long drive.

  Charlotte shrugged. “I don’t know. Somebody took the dogs, that much we know. I didn’t see the crime scene. Anything there?”

  Frank shook his head. “No. The body was already gone, of course, but from what I understand it looks like he might have tried to get out of bed and fallen, clipped his head on the nightstand there. Lot of blood though.”

  “Head wounds.”

  “Mm hm. They bleed.”

  “Maybe he did hear someone taking the dogs.”

  Frank shrugged. “Maybe. I’m not sure that makes it a murder, though.”

  Charlotte’s phone rang and she glanced at the caller I.D. to see it was the vet’s office.

  “Hello?”

  “Charlotte? This is Dr. Powers.”

  “Hi, how are you?”

  “Good. You asked us to let you know if a Yorkie came in. We have him.”

  Charlotte sat up in her seat. “You do?”

  “Yep. He’s in my palm as we speak.”

  “Awesome. I’ll be right there.”

  She hung up to find Frank looking at her.

  “Sixth puppy?”

  She nodded. “Sixth puppy.”

  Chapter Ten

  Mariska climbed three low steps and knocked on the rattling screen door of their first house. She and Darla had talked about the puppies during the rest of their time at the pool—during the few minutes they weren’t talking with the other ladies about the fight for Dirty Dirk—and they’d decided to knock on doors on the way back home to see if they could help Charlotte find the missing pup.

  The first house was a dud. No one answered.

  “Off to a roaring start,” said Darla, who stood at the bottom of the step, supervising.

  Mariska put her ear to the screen and listened. “I don’t hear a dog.” She took one step back down the stairs before hearing the pop of the inner door opening. She stopped and resumed her place on the landing.

  “We don’t donate,” said the woman now standing in the doorway. It was hard to read her features through the thick screen, but Mariska didn’t think she looked terribly friendly.

  “We’re not looking for donations. We’re looking—”

  “We don’t want any.” The woman took a step back as if preparing to shut the door.

  “Wait, we’re not selling anything. We’re just looking for—”

  “Why are you naked?”

  Mariska scowled. “What?”

  “Why are you naked on my doorstep?”

  Mariska looked down. She wore a sheer cover-up over a bathing suit a nun could wear on vacation.

  “I’m not naked. We’re heading home from the pool—”

  “We don’t use the pool. Full of germs.”

  “Actually, they use a lot of chlorine. Anyway, we just need to ask—”

  “We have our own religion, we don’t need—”

  Mariska felt her cool slip away.

  “Lady, did you find a friggin’ puppy?”

  The woman’s eyes popped wide. Below her, Mariska heard Darla hoot with laughter.

  “What?” asked the woman, her confrontational manner replaced by what sounded like genuine confusion.

  “Did you find a puppy? Little black and brown thing with hair that looks like someone plugged its tail into the wall socket?”

  “Did I, what?”

  “Did someone leave a puppy on your doorstep?”

  The woman straightened and shook her head. “No. Why would someone give us a puppy? You’re a crazy person.”

  The woman closed the door. Inside Mariska could hear her calling to her husband.

  “Nothing. Some crazy naked lady looking for a lost dog.”

  Mariska turned to glare down at Darla. They’d only knocked on one door and she was exhausted.

  Darla chuckled. “Seems nice.”

  Mariska tottered down the steps. She caught movement from the corner of her eye and looked up to see an old man peering at her though the curtains.

  Darla shook her index finger at him and the curtains closed.

  “He didn’t want to miss the naked lady, the old dirtbag.”

  The two of them climbed back into Mariska’s golf cart and took the two-second drive to the next house.

  Mariska grunted as she climbed out again.

  “This might not be the task for us.”

  “This is Tilly’s house. She always has good cookies.”

  Mariska’s mood lightened. “Ooh, I love those anise ones with the sprinkles.”

  “I like the ones half-dipped in chocolate,” mused Darla. “Though I don’t know why they don’t dip the whole thing in chocolate.”

  “To give you a place to hold them without getting your fingers all messy.”

  “I could use a smaller handhold. As it is, the one end tastes so much better than the other.”

  “What you need is to find someone who likes the end without the chocolate and split them.”

  Darla rolled her eyes. “That’s like finding someone who doesn’t like the stuffing part of an Oreo.”

  “A unicorn.”

  By the time they reached the door, Tilly was already standing behind her screen.

  “What are you two up to?”

  Mariska’s gaze shifted behind Tilly, straining to see if she had any plates of cookies on display. “Charlotte asked us to go around the neighborhood to try and find a missing dog.”

  “I haven’t seen any. You want me to check my cameras?”

  Tilly had moved with her family from New York City to Florida as a girl, shifted there by the Witness Protection Agency, after her father turned on the mob who’d hired him as an accountant. The uprooting had instilled in her an obsession with safety and, decades later, she still kept a log of suspicious comings and goings in the neighborhood. There were rumors she’d installed cameras all over Pineapple Port. Mariska knew nobody got away with anything with Tilly around.

  “You really do have cameras?”

  Tilly bounced one shoulder. “Eh. Charlotte knows all about them. I figured you did. Wanna see if I can dig anything up?”

  “That would be wonderful,” said Mariska.

  “You’re so much nicer than your neighbors,” added Darla, glancing back at the previous house.

  Tilly shrugged. “Oh they don’t mess with me. She had a pork shoulder slide off a plate on their way to a potluck once and I caught her rinsing it off under the hose. She’s still scared I’ll tell.”

  Darla’s lip curled. “I wonder if I was at that dinner.”

  Mariska shrugged. “You have to admit. It would have been a terrible waste to throw it out.”

  Darla gaped at her. “You too? Remind me not to eat a
t your house anymore.”

  They followed Tilly inside.

  “I was about to have a little limoncello. Want some?” asked Tilly, motioning towards a bottle filled with a cheery yellow liquid.

  “What is it?” asked Mariska.

  “Try it.” Tilly pulled what looked like two tiny champagne flutes from her cabinet and set them in front of the women.

  Tilly poured them both a shot of yellow liquid without waiting for an answer. Mariska took a sip and grimaced. “Oh, it’s alcohol. It’s strong.”

  Darla followed suit and finished hers. “It’s strong, but it’s sweet. That’s delicious.”

  “It’s vodka, lemons and sugar. I made this batch last week,” explained Tilly as she poured Darla another.

  “It is tasty, but too strong for me,” said Mariska, pushing her glass away. Darla took hers and finished it before pulling her new pour closer. “I love it.”

  Mariska pursed her lips. “I can see that.”

  “So what am I looking for?” asked Tilly. She saw Mariska’s gaze float towards a plate of amaretti cookies covered with plastic wrap and pushed the dish towards her.

  Mariska grinned and helped herself. “This is more my speed.”

  Darla slid a cookie from beneath the plastic wrap for herself. “Someone left boxes with puppies inside of them on people’s doorsteps last night. Charlotte found five of them but there should be six so we think someone still has one.”

  “Any particular part of the neighborhood?”

  “One went to Alice—”

  Tilly’s eyes popped wide. “Alice? But didn’t she—”

  “Dead,” confirmed Mariska, licking crumbs from her lips. “But the puppy was there with her when they found her.”

  Darla finished her limoncello shot and returned to rattling off the puppy receivers as Tilly poured her another. “Althea, Katherine—”

  “Fat Katherine or Balding Katherine?” asked Tilly.

  “Balding. Gladys Sorenson and Janice Rocco.”

  Tilly seemed to let the information settle. “They’re all over in the newer section. I’ll look there. Be right back. Help yourselves.”

  Tilly strode on her bandy legs to the back of the house and Darla reached for the bottle of limoncello.

  “You’d better watch yourself,” said Mariska, sliding out another cookie.

  “I can’t help it. It’s like I’m addicted to it. It burns but it’s so sweet and good.”

  “I’ll be driving you to AA meetings,” muttered Mariska.

  “Well, you ease up on the cookies or I’ll be driving you to fat camp.”

  Mariska giggled.

  Darla took another cookie and tried to dunk it into her limoncello. She broke in half and it crumbled across the countertop.

  “Shoot.”

  She swept the crumbs into a pile and then leaned over to press her tongue against them.

  “You’re licking the counter?” said Mariska.

  “Crumbs,” mumbled Darla before taking the smaller half of her broken cookie to dip it in her tiny glass. “Ooh, that’s good.” She dunked the other half and handed it to Mariska. “Try it.”

  “You’re making a mess,” said Mariska, but she opened her mouth and Darla popped the cookie inside.

  Mariska nodded as she chewed. “Not bad. Less burny that way.”

  Darla glanced down the hall. “She’ll probably be a while.”

  She slid off the stool and moved to Tilly’s glass cabinets to retrieve a teacup saucer. Bringing it back to her spot, she filled it with limoncello and sat two cookies in the sauce.

  “You’re soaking them? Is that how you’re supposed to eat them?” asked Mariska.

  Darla nodded. “It should be.”

  Mariska helped herself to one and Darla finished another glass of yellow sunshine.

  Tilly returned with a printout in her hand and stopped to stare at the saucer.

  “I never thought to do that.”

  “It’s good, try it.” Darla thrust half a cookie towards her, her opposite hand cupped beneath it to catch the dripping limoncello.

  Tilly ate it and nodded. “Not bad.”

  Darla licked her palm. “I’m a genius.”

  “Here’s your suspect.” Tilly put the printout on the counter. The black and white image was muddy, but clear enough to know something was very wrong.

  The person in the video wore a hoody and jeans, but they had the face of a cartoon poodle.

  “Is that a mask?” asked Mariska.

  “I certainly hope so,” said Tilly, pouring herself a glass.

  Darla released a sign. “Whew. Good. For a second I thought I was going to have to slow down on the limoncello.” Darla pushed her glass towards Tilly. “I’ll take another.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Charlotte arrived at the vet’s office just before closing. The receptionist was nowhere to be found, but a moment later Dr. Powers poked her head out from the back.

  “Ah, it’s you. Just a second.”

  She retreated inside and appeared a minute later with a very familiar puppy in her arms.

  “This look like your man?” she asked, holding up the dog.

  Charlotte grinned. She couldn’t help but smile as the puppy struggled to get to her.

  “There you are,” she said as the doctor handed him to her. “Who brought him in?”

  “Hannah, my receptionist, said it was an older lady.”

  Charlotte chuckled. “That really narrows it down around here.”

  “Hannah hadn’t seen her before. She checked in with the name Smith.”

  “That’s not promising. Or creative.”

  “She said the woman was on the phone one minute and the next she was gone. Hannah assumed she’d changed her mind and left, but then noticed the puppy wandering around the waiting area.”

  “What time was this?”

  Dr. Powers squinted as if that helped her see the answer to Charlotte’s question. “I want to say around two-thirty? Not long before I called you. I was in with a patient but Hannah filled me in when I was finished.”

  Charlotte nuzzled the pup. “Well, I appreciate it. I’m sure this little guy is looking forward to being reunited with his brothers and sisters.”

  “Someone stole them?”

  Charlotte nodded. “And then dispersed them around Pineapple Port.”

  Dr. Powers removed her long, white lab coat. “People are weird. I gave him a look over. He seems perfectly healthy.”

  “Great. I really appreciate it. What do I owe you?”

  Dr. Powers waved her away. “Don’t worry about it. If you need anything else let me know.”

  Charlotte thanked her again and headed for her car. Inside, she started the old Volvo to get the air conditioner running and called Frank.

  “It’s official. I have the sixth puppy,” she said when he answered.

  He didn’t seem to want to talk about the dog.

  “Why is my wife drunk?”

  “What?”

  She heard Darla’s voice somewhere in the background. “I’m not drunk, I’m happy!”

  Frank sighed. “Nevermind. Got a suspect?”

  “Not exactly. Dr. Powers said an older lady brought the puppy in, took a phone call, and then disappeared, leaving it behind in the waiting room.”

  “Took a call? You think someone warned her we had the other dogs?”

  “That was my thought. Though if it was one of the other Pineapple Port ladies who warned her, wouldn’t she have absconded with the dog? Not left it behind?”

  Frank began to speak, only to be drowned out by Darla’s voice. It sounded as if she had her face pressed against his cheek. “Let me talk to her. Let me talk to her. Come on, come on, come on…”

  “Hold on, I’m getting the idea Darla wants to talk to you. Good luck.”

  “Hi Charlotte,” said Darla, her Tennessee accent four times thicker than normal. The word hi sounded as if it had fifteen syllables in it.

  “Hi Darla
. What happened to you? You sound like you ate Dolly Parton and washed her down with a bottle of Jack.”

  “Limoncello happened to me. It’s delicioush. Have you had it?”

  “I think so. I think Tilly makes it sometimes...”

  “Yesh! That’s exactly what I wanted to tell you.”

  “That Tilly made limoncello?”

  “No, she gave me a picture of the puppy person.”

  “Who?”

  “The person passing out puppies. Peck of pickled peppers. She had it on her cameras.”

  “Oh, can you see who it is?”

  “No. He’s wearing a doggy mask.” Darla began to giggle. “At least we hope he’s wearing a dog mask. That’s what we said. Because if he really looks like that—”

  “I get it. But you said he. You can tell it’s a man?”

  Darla fell silent.

  “Darla?”

  “Huh? What were we talking about?’

  “You can tell the person in the video is a man?”

  “Oh, right. No, now that you mention it. I assumed it was but it doesn’t have to be.”

  “Okay. I’ll talk to Tilly. Thank you.”

  “We didn’t find the puppy, though...”

  “I did. It’s okay.”

  “Oh. That’s good. We mebbe spent too long a spell at Tilly’s.”

  “Got it. No problem.”

  Frank’s voice returned. “I’m looking at the picture Tilly printed out for them now. It’s a little blurry. Can’t tell much, but I think it’s a woman. You’d probably tell better from the original.”

  “I’ll check in with Tilly.”

  Frank grunted. “Fine. I’ll be here feeding coffee to my wife. Tell her thanks for this mess.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Charlotte called Tilly next, and once they finally stopped laughing about Darla, Tilly let her know the way the figure in the poodle mask moved on the video told her it was a woman. Average height and not terribly buxom, but Tilly felt sure it wasn’t a man.

  “I went in to check the tapes and by the time I came back, half the limoncello was gone. I’ll have to make another batch,” added Tilly, chuckling.

  “That stuff is like high-test candy. You should have warned them.”

  “I didn’t know Darla would go bonkers on it.”