The Pomeranian Always Barks Twice

by Alex Erickson

  I kept my voice low as I filled him in on what I’d learned from Duke, about his return to the scene, just before Timothy’s murder. I told him I’d talked to Meredith afterward, but I left out Amelia’s involvement, not wanting Cavanaugh to come down hard on her.

  He wasn’t happy about it, but he motioned for me to continue without much more than a warning look.

  I told him about the possibility of Timothy’s stash, about Meredith’s money troubles. I told him about the fight between Junior and his dad, and even mentioned my theory that Junior could have come back to kill Timothy without anyone seeing.

  Detective Cavanaugh listened attentively, if not with a scowl of disapproval on his face. When I finished, he didn’t look impressed by the glut of information.

  “That’s all?” he asked.

  “It is.” I felt small, but refused to back down. “Junior had more of a reason to kill Timothy than Ben. Even Meredith had a better motive, not to mention opportunity.” I hated throwing Meredith under the bus, but it was Ben’s freedom we were talking about.

  “They might have,” Detective Cavanaugh allowed. “But that’s for me to decide, not you.”

  “It’s not a crime to talk to people,” I said. “Duke and I have known each other for years.”

  “And Ms. Hopewell?”

  “We’ve had occasion to speak,” I said, face growing hot.

  “Mr. Fuller says you’ve been coming around, hounding him about his father’s property,” Cavanaugh said.

  “I have not!” I looked past him to find Junior inside the kitchen, watching us. “I came here looking for Stewie, and that’s all.”

  “He said you forced your way into the house yesterday.”

  My blush deepened. “I might have come in without knocking,” I said. “But I had reason! I heard shouting and thought someone might be hurt.”

  “And were they?”

  “Well, no,” I admitted. “But he had Stewie cornered. The poor dog was barking his head off, and was scared out of his mind. I don’t think Junior knows how to handle him, yet he insists on taking him, despite his father’s wishes.”

  Cavanaugh’s sigh sounded frustrated. “I can’t have you running around town, causing trouble, Mrs. Denton,” he said. He held up a hand, cutting me off before I could speak. “I understand that it’s your son who currently has his feet to the fire. I also understand you are worried about the dog’s well-being. But you have to let me do my job. I can’t do that if every time I turn around, someone is calling me about you.”

  “Someone called you about me?”

  His eyes narrowed.

  “All right, I’m sorry.” I lowered my gaze. He was right. If I kept getting in the way, it wouldn’t help Ben’s cause. Cavanaugh was a police detective. Finding murderers was his job.

  “Can I at least see Stewie?” I asked. “I want to make sure he’s okay. The stress has to be getting to him.”

  Cavanaugh motioned for Junior to join us. “Where’s the dog?” he asked him.

  “What dog?” Junior asked, acting as if he had no idea what I was talking about. Alexis came up to stand next to him, looking confused, as if even she was at a complete loss.

  “Stewie,” I said, keeping my voice as level as I could manage. The man was infuriating. “Timothy’s Pomeranian.”

  Junior rolled his eyes. “He’s fine.”

  “Fine where?” I asked. “Did you leave him alone? Or is someone watching him? You do know he’ll need to go out. And you can’t leave him without fresh food and water.” I wouldn’t put it past Junior to leave him locked up and alone, in a small cage, only letting him out once or twice, and even then, only when necessary.

  “I said, he’s fine,” Junior said, and then, to Detective Cavanaugh. “Could you please get her out of here? I’m tired of humoring the woman who obviously broke in and ransacked the place. She was likely trying to steal the dog out from under me.”

  I groaned audibly. “I didn’t break in! And even if I had, why would I look for Stewie in the cupboards? You aren’t making sense.”

  “Who knows what goes through the heads of people like you.”

  My fists clenched and I might have done something stupid, but then I remembered Clarence, sitting across the street, where he seemingly always was.

  “I might have proof,” I said, hoping I wasn’t going to make a fool out of myself.

  “Proof?” Detective Cavanaugh asked. He looked ready to leap at any opportunity to settle the matter. “Proof of what?”

  “That I had nothing to do with any of this,” I said. “The guy across the street, Clarence. He was outside when I pulled up. He might have seen who broke in.”

  “They came in through the back door,” Cavanaugh pointed out.

  “But whoever it was might have driven by,” I said. “And even if he didn’t see who broke in, he can tell you that he didn’t see my van until I just pulled up a few minutes ago. You’ve seen it. It’s kind of hard to miss.”

  Junior didn’t look like he cared whether or not Clarence could prove my innocence, but didn’t protest when Cavanaugh started for the door.

  “Then we’ll go talk to him,” the detective said.

  All four of us trooped across the street, to where Clarence was still sitting. The old man continued to rock, seemingly unconcerned as we approached.

  “Good afternoon to you, Detective,” he said. “I’d offer you some coffee, but I’m fresh out.” He showed us his empty mug. “Didn’t expect guests or I’d have made more.”

  “That’s all right, Mr. Ellison,” Cavanaugh said, taking the lead. “We’ll only take a moment of your time.”

  Clarence merely nodded. “I figured you might come see me,” he said. “Could hear the ruckus even from here. It’s been wild around here lately. Not sure if I remember it ever being this crazy.” He shook his head, but was smiling as he did so. “What is it I can do for you, Detective?” His gaze moved my way. “Mrs. Liz.”

  I didn’t fail to note how he completely ignored Junior and Alexis. By Junior’s scowl, I doubted he missed it either.

  “Do you recall seeing anyone enter Mr. Denton’s house today?” Cavanaugh asked. “Or seen someone poking around where they shouldn’t be? A strange car driving slowly by, perhaps?”

  “Today?” Clarence asked. “I don’t recall seeing anyone today until you lot showed up.”

  “What about late last night?” Cavanaugh asked.

  “I’m an old man, Detective. Bedtime comes early for me. If someone was there past dark, I was too busy counting sheep to notice.”

  “Did you hear anything?” I asked, earning me a sharp look from Cavanaugh. But at least he listened for an answer.

  “There might have been a few thumps earlier this morning,” Clarence said, nodding slowly in remembrance. “I can’t say for sure if it came from the house, but I do recall hearing something. Didn’t pay it no mind, though. Did something happen?”

  Cavanaugh ignored the question. “What about Mrs. Denton here,” he asked. “Did you see her today?”

  Clarence gave me a fond smile. “Mrs. Liz came and visited me yesterday,” he said. “Saw her a little later, but she didn’t do nothing wrong.”

  “Today?” Cavanaugh asked.

  “Not seen hide nor hair of her, until now.”

  “Liar,” Junior muttered under his breath.

  We all ignored him.

  “Thank you for your time, Mr. Ellison. If you think of anything else, you have my card.”

  “I do.” He patted his shirt pocket, as if it was there. “I hope you figure this thing out, Detective. I miss the quiet.”

  We returned to Timothy’s driveway a few minutes later.

  “Satisfied?” I asked Junior, unable to stop myself.

  He snorted, looked away.

  “I’m not,” Cavanaugh said. “You shouldn’t be snooping around, talking to witnesses.”

  “I’m sorry,” I said. “I wasn’t snooping.” Well, I suppose technically I was, bu
t I didn’t think of it that way. “He’s the one who saw Ben that day. I wanted to hear exactly what it was he saw, straight from him.”

  “I understand why you did it,” Cavanaugh said. “But you need to understand my position. If you were to threaten or attempt to coerce him . . .”

  “I’d never do such a thing.” I took a calming breath, stifling the urge to argue, before going on. “I won’t come back,” I said. “Not unless Junior is ready to give up Stewie, who by rights, belongs to me.”

  “Hasn’t the poor doggie suffered enough,” Alexis asked, speaking for the first time since I’d been there.

  Before I could retort, Cavanaugh held up both hands, silencing everyone.

  “You,” he said, looking to me. “Go home. If I need to follow up on anything you told me, I’ll call you.”

  I ground my teeth as I nodded.

  “And you two,” Cavanaugh said, turning on Junior. “If the dog belongs with her, I expect you to get it to her in the next day or so. I don’t need this petty argument fouling up my investigation.”

  Junior looked as if he wanted to argue, but surprisingly, simply nodded.

  “I’m going to do my job here, talk to a few people, and by tomorrow, I want your differences worked out. I’m tired of the arguing. A man is dead. Your father is dead,” he said, staring hard at Junior. “I expect everyone to act with a modicum of respect.”

  Everyone lowered their gazes in shame. Well, everyone but Cavanaugh, who was in the right, as much as I hated to admit it.

  He huffed, turned to Junior. “Now, let’s go inside and see if we can figure out if something is missing.”

  Dismissed, I returned to my van. I felt ashamed, and rightfully so. During all of this, I was too concerned about Ben, about making sure he got out of this okay, without ever really considering others who were affected by Timothy’s death.

  Junior wasn’t a nice man, just like his dad. But that didn’t mean he didn’t have feelings. As far as I knew, he was hurting inside, which in turn, was causing him to lash out at everyone around him. Alexis might be the only thing keeping him from completely losing it.

  As I started up the van, I caught movement at the door. I looked up to find Junior glaring at me, murder in his eye.

  Quite suddenly, I no longer felt bad for him.

  He slammed the door hard enough to rattle the frame, which I hoped earned him a firm reprimand from the detective, but I wasn’t counting on it.

  “Jerk,” I muttered. And then, thinking of how I’d treated Amelia, I amended the comment to include myself.

  I backed out of Timothy’s driveway, and turned toward home. It was time to make things right with my daughter.

  16

  Loud electronic music was playing in Amelia’s room when I got home. I approached the door, but reconsidered. She was mad, and rightfully so. While I wanted to talk to her about what had happened, it would probably be best if I gave her more time to calm down. I didn’t want a fight. I was pretty sure she didn’t either.

  I backed away from the door and retreated back downstairs. Okay, so maybe I wasn’t quite ready to talk yet either.

  So, instead of having what would inevitably be a heated conversation, I decided to clean the room Toby and Leroy had recently occupied in preparation for Stewie’s upcoming stay.

  There wasn’t a lot to do since the two older dogs hadn’t been too messy. The room did smell like beagle, but a quick mop of the floor and wash of the bedding, and you’d never know they’d been there.

  I took my time, relishing the smell of cleaner. The floor, the blankets and pillows, all got deep cleaned. Even the food and water dishes got a thorough scrubbing. It took a good two hours for me to be satisfied, and by the time I was done, my back was barking and I had the beginnings of a headache. But at least the room smelled fresh, without a hint of dog.

  Amelia was waiting for me at the dining room table when I left the room, carrying a bucket of dirty water. I took it to the bathroom, dumped it, and then stowed the bucket in the laundry room before joining her.

  “Wheels needs some food,” she said. The cat in question was sitting at her side, purring. “I put the last in her dish when I got home.”

  “All right. I’ll get it in a little while,” I said, sitting down across from her with a groan. I rubbed at my back, once more missing Ben to no end. He usually helped with the cleaning.

  Amelia stared at me, chewing her lower lip. There was still defiance in her eye, but she didn’t seem angry anymore. That was good. In the shape I was in, I wasn’t looking forward to an argument.

  “I filled the police in,” I said, taking the lead. “Detective Cavanaugh listened, but I think he already knew about Meredith’s money issues and Timothy Fuller’s hidden cash. If he didn’t, he does now, and I think he’ll look into it.”

  “Good.” Amelia dropped her eyes briefly before meeting mine again. “He seemed like he knew what he was doing when he questioned me.”

  A flare of anger shot through me, but I suppressed it. He was only doing his job. Still, every time I thought about him going to her school to talk to her, it made me want to give him a piece of my mind.

  “Someone broke into Timothy’s house too,” I said. “It looked like they were looking for something. The place was a disaster.”

  “Do you think whoever it was, was looking for the hidden money?”

  “It’s likely,” I said. “Junior was pretty upset. He blamed me, saying I was trying to ruin him. That man has it in for me, and I don’t even know why.”

  Amelia’s brow furrowed as she thought it over. “We were with Ms. Hopewell right before that,” she said.

  “We were. But the break-in might have happened earlier. I don’t think anyone was at the house until shortly before I showed up, so no one really knows when it happened. It wouldn’t surprise me if the thief broke in last night.” Which meant, just about everyone could be a suspect.

  We both fell silent. Amelia seemed to be chewing over what I’d told her, while I was sitting there, waiting for her to tell me how she got involved in Ben’s case. I understood why she did it, just not the how.

  “Amelia, what’s going on?” I asked her when it didn’t appear as if she was going to speak on her own. “Why were you talking to Meredith?”

  “I wanted to prove Ben’s innocence. Ms. Hopewell seemed like a legitimate suspect, so I figured I’d press her and see what she had to say for herself.”

  “So, you decided to go alone?” I couldn’t help it; my voice rose, more in panic than anger. “Amelia, if she was Timothy’s killer, that meant you were walking into a bad situation with no backup. No one knew where you were.”

  “You were there.” Bitterly.

  “That was pure luck,” I said. “If I hadn’t seen you, you would have been all alone. What if something had happened? What if you were right and when you started asking questions, she decided to silence you?”

  “Mom, I can handle myself.”

  “I know you can, Amelia, but you shouldn’t have to. Why go alone when you could have called me? Or had one of your friends go with you?”

  She reached down and ran a hand down Wheels’s back. The cat’s purr got louder. She rose from her place at Amelia’s feet and paced back and forth, soaking up the attention. The wheels seemed loud in the silence.

  “I want you to be safe,” I said, calmly, lovingly. “Someone is out there right now, someone who killed a man. Nothing says they’ll stop at just Timothy Fuller. Any one of us could be next.” Not a comforting thought, but I hoped it proved my point.

  “I know,” she said. “But I thought that since it was about money, I’d be okay. I bet whoever killed him, didn’t mean to do it.”

  “I’m not sure you can accidentally stab someone,” I said. Especially in the back. “How did you even know about the money anyway?”

  “I hear things,” Amelia said, not meeting my eye.

  “You hear things? Amelia . . .”

  “What? I did a l
ittle research, asked around. It wasn’t too hard.”

  I gaped at her. Research ? Asked around ? “Should you be doing that?” I asked.

  She shrugged, and then gave me a crooked smile. “At least we’re making progress, right?”

  I wanted to tell her that we shouldn’t be doing anything at all, but held my tongue. While Amelia had confronted only one person, I’d gone and talked to nearly everyone involved with Timothy Fuller or his dog, Stewie. It’s kind of hard to yell at someone who was doing the same thing I was.

  “Who is C. Chudzinski?” I asked, abruptly changing the subject.

  Amelia’s smile faded. “How do you know his name?”

  “I saw it,” I said. “I went into your room to see if you were there and it was on the shelf by the door.”

  “You were snooping?”

  “No.” Well, yes, but I didn’t want to tell her that. “I saw the card with his name on it, and I’m curious about who he is. I just want to make sure I shouldn’t be worried about him.”

  Amelia rolled her eyes. “Mom, you don’t need to worry about me.”

  “Yes, Amelia, I do.”

  She heaved a sigh, jaw firming like she was going to sit there in stoic silence until the walls fell down around her ears. I’d run into her stubbornness more than once, and was willing to wait her out.

  She seemed to realize the same. After only a few seconds, her shoulders sagged, and she looked down at her hands.

  “He’s just someone I know,” she said.

  “A boyfriend?”

  “Ew, no. He’s like three times my age.”

  “So, he’s the man I saw you with earlier?”

  She nodded. “I’ve met with him a few times. We were talking.” She looked up, met my eye with a hard stare. “Just talking.”

  “Okay, you were talking. What about?”

  “About Ben. About the case. He knows a lot about stuff like that.”

  “Does he now?” The skepticism was thick in my voice. It wouldn’t be the first time an older man claimed to know things, just so he could attract a younger woman.