Heir of the Dog

by Judi McCoy

  Ellie rolled her eyes. “Gee, I think so, but there was someone standing a couple of feet away harping at me, so I didn’t get a chance to dig any deeper.”

  “Hey, it was spooky in there,” Viv said, her expression wounded. “Next time, we’ll go in the daylight.”

  “Next time, I plan to tack a sign on the tree in Gary’s memory. It’s the least I can do for him.”

  “Before you forget, how about telling me what else Sam had to say about it all?”

  At the mention of the detective’s name, Ellie recalled his latest demand. She hadn’t phoned him today, and she didn’t intend to. “He wants me to take a self-defense course. Says he knows a guy who owns a gym and gives women lessons a couple of nights a week on how to defend themselves.”

  “Wow, he must really be worried about you.”

  “I have no idea why.”

  Viv drummed her fingers on the table. “Maybe because he believes Gary’s brother killed him for the family fortune, which is now in your possession.”

  “I’m not about to go anywhere alone in this city after dark, nor would I open my door to a stranger,” she said, remembering the creepy guy with the ugly deep voice. “So what’s the problem? Besides, Rudy will protect me.”

  “Does Sam think this Veridot guy is stalking you?”

  “Sam thinks a lot of things. It doesn’t mean he’s right.”

  Her cell phone rang, and Ellie ignored it, prodding the tarnished key with her index finger. “Stop dwelling on Ryder and help me figure out what this is for.”

  Viv glanced from Ellie to her tote bag holding the still ringing phone and back again. “Aren’t you going to answer it? It might be someone answering your ad.”

  “Remind me to tell you about the call I had the other day. Then you’ll see why I’m ignoring this one. If they want the job, they can leave a message.”

  “So Hilary is working out all right?”

  “She’s okay, but she’d be better if her personal life wasn’t in such turmoil.” The ringing stopped, then started all over again. She shrugged. “I really don’t feel like talking to anyone.”

  Five seconds later, her cell stopped ringing. Thirty seconds after that, it began again.

  Vivian frowned. “What’s going on, Ellie?”

  Three rings echoed before she answered, “Nothing.”

  “It doesn’t sound like ‘nothing’ to me. Someone’s trying to reach you, and they’re serious about it.”

  Ellie scraped out her ice cream, slurped down the last spoonful, and brought the empty container to the trash. So what if she hadn’t called Sam as he’d ordered? Had he actually thought she’d check in with him like a teenager on curfew?

  A half minute passed in silence. Believing the barrage to be over, she was about to tell Viv she needed to go to bed, when someone pounded on her front door.

  “I didn’t hear the buzzer. Did you?”

  “The phone was ringing so loud I couldn’t hear myself think,” said Viv. “Maybe you should answer the door.”

  “I didn’t let anyone up, so it can’t be for me. Besides, it’s ten o’clock at night.”

  “Does Georgette still have a key?”

  “Yes, but Mother wouldn’t knock. She’d just storm through the door with her Jimmy Choos blazing.”

  “Well, I doubt a burglar would announce himself.” Vivian stood. “Mr. T and I have to get going. You stay here, and we’ll tell your visitor to get lost.”

  “No matter who it is.”

  Viv headed into the hall with her Jack Russell, and Ellie envisioned her peering out the peephole before opening the door. Then a deep baritone voice spoke, and Viv giggled. When heavy footsteps approached, she cursed. Damn Viv and her penchant for making trouble. Squaring her shoulders, she braced for the lecture to come.

  “What in the hell have you been doing all day?” Sam asked, charging into the kitchen.

  “My job,” she shot back. “Like some detective I know should be doing.”

  He opened the fridge and snagged a beer. Popping the cap, he took a swig, then propped his butt against the counter and scowled at her. “You’re driving me to drink.”

  She leaned back in her chair. “Oh, please, that is so not true. You just can’t stand it when anyone ignores your orders.”

  He took a longer pull. “Are you saying you didn’t call me on purpose?”

  “Not really.” She crossed mental fingers. “I—I forgot.”

  “You are the world’s worst liar,” he said after taking another swallow of his Bud Light.

  “I got a spooky phone call, two actually, from someone who wanted the assistant’s job.”

  “Spooky? What kind of spooky?”

  “He wanted to come here, to my apartment, for an interview. I told him no. I doubt I’ll hear from him again.”

  “Did you ever think it might be Veridot?”

  Talk about paranoia. It was time to change the subject, she decided. “No. How did you get up here, by the way?”

  “I was standing on your front porch trying your line when an elderly couple came home. I showed them my badge, told them I had business with someone in the building, and they were more than happy to let me in.” He sat across from her at the table. “I believe their last name is Feldman.”

  “Great. Saul and Rita Feldman are two of the nosi est gossips in the building.” And they’d had a lot to say when she was involved in the professor’s murder. “By tomorrow, everyone in the complex will know I had a visit from a cop.”

  “I didn’t tell them I was coming to see you.”

  “Did they watch you go up the stairs?”

  “Maybe.”

  “Then they know it was me.”

  “If you’d called like I asked, I wouldn’t be here right now,” he reminded her. “I wasn’t joking, Ellie. I did some more digging today.”

  She set an elbow on the table and propped her chin in her hand. “Me, too. Do you have any idea what this might open?”

  Focusing on the key, he narrowed his gaze. “Where’d you find that?”

  “Near where the cops found Gary’s body. I saw Gruning, and he gave me clearance to take what I wanted from the shelter. He also told me I could claim the body.” She frowned. “My next duty as his inheritor is to see that he’s cremated.”

  “Does Gruning know about this key?”

  “I only found it tonight, and technically it wasn’t in the shelter, so I don’t think I have to tell him. Want to see what else was in the envelope?”

  “There was more?”

  Ellie pushed the pile of faded photographs in his direction. The first was that of an older woman sitting in a high-back chair in front of a fireplace with a young man who could have been Gary sitting on the chair’s arm. The date on the back said “May 1979.”

  “Gary must have been about sixteen and living with his grandmother when this was taken.”

  “The date is about right,” Sam agreed.

  He slid his chair closer and sized up the next photo: a man and woman perched on a sofa with two boys standing behind them. The setting, with the three males in suits and ties and the woman in lace and pearls, seemed forced. Only Gary smiled, while the others appeared to be staring at nothing.

  Sam reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a folded sheet of paper.“Here’s the photo the warden faxed me. Let’s compare and see if there’s a resemblance.”

  He placed the grainy image next to the oldest boy in the photo. “The bigger kid must be Thompson, but it’s hard to tell after all this time. According to the prison photo, he’s gone completely gray. Life in the pen will do that to a guy.”

  “Is there a description giving his height and weight? Eye color, birthmarks?”

  “Say’s he’s five foot nine and a hundred eighty pounds. Eyes are brown, no identifying birthmarks, but he has a couple of tattoos on his upper arms.”

  “Of what?” Ellie asked.

  Sam shook his head. “The guy was a real psycho. There’s a red hear
t on his right arm with the word ‘Mother’ penned inside, and he’s got the same on his left arm, only that one’s dedicated to dear old Dad.”

  “The creep.”

  “You got that right. Let’s see the last picture.”

  In the third photo, two boys, one about eight and the other a teenager, stood side by side in matching slacks and sweaters. While Gary was smiling in the other pictures, he looked terrified in this one. Stranger still, his older brother was grinning fiendishly, as if he knew a horrific secret.

  “Not exactly a happy family, were they?” asked Sam.

  “Not if Gary’s expression tells the story.” She held the photo to the light. “I wonder what Thompson is saying or doing to him. It can’t be anything pleasant.”

  “Probably threatening to flush his goldfish down the toilet, or maybe suffocate him in his sleep.”

  “It must have been depressing, growing up with a brother strung out on drugs.”

  “The parents don’t appear overjoyed with the burden, either. My guess is, after they saw how wild their eldest was, they put the screws to Gary, probably made him knuckle under no matter what. He had a bad time of it even before Thompson murdered Mom and Dad.”

  Ellie sniffed back a tear. “Makes me rethink my own childhood. I had loving parents, friends, an okay life.”

  “Maybe that’s because you didn’t do drugs or violate curfew.”

  “I did my share of goofing off, like any other teenager,” she told him, miffed he thought her a Goody Two-shoes.

  “You?” One corner of his mouth lifted. “You probably thought stealing a smoke was tantamount to doing drugs.”

  “I tried cigarettes once and hated the way they tasted, so I consider myself lucky to have avoided the addiction.” She raised her nose. “And before you ask, I tried marijuana, too, but it made me throw up—and I hate throwing up.”

  “What about booze? Cutting school? Hanging with disreputable friends?” Still grinning, he raised a brow. “Premarital sex?”

  Heat inched from her collarbone to her face. “My sex life is none of your business.” He’d laugh his ass off if he heard she’d been a virgin until her second year of college. “My parents trusted me, and I didn’t want to ruin what we had.”

  He leaned back and swallowed the last of his beer. “Sounds like your childhood was happier than most.”

  “What about yours? Did you do all those things?”

  “Of course I did.”

  “No older brother to make you cry?”

  “I’m the eldest of three, with two younger sisters. That’s punishment enough.”

  Ellie sighed. “I always wished for a sister, but it wasn’t in the cards.”

  “What did your mom and dad have to say about it?”

  “Georgette refuses to talk about her life with my father or the fact that there were no other children. My dad died about fifteen years ago, so I can’t ask him. What about you?”

  “Lydia, that’s my mom, sometimes talks as if my dad is still here, but he’s been gone for five years.” He stood and dropped his bottle in the trash. “My sisters think it’s their duty to be matchmakers.”

  “Are they worried about what you do for a living?” Like I am, she thought. “You know, the whole chasing down the bad guy scenario.”

  “I guess.” He turned his chair around and straddled it. “Mostly they just complain about the lousy hours and my lack of participation in family events.”

  “My mom doesn’t let me get away with missing what she considers a family get-together either, at least not for long. As for matchmaking, I met that lawyer, Kevin, at a brunch she arranged. It’s the first time since my divorce she’s bothered introducing me to anyone.”

  Sam swallowed a smile. A fix-up by a parent was easier to accept than a sleazy meeting at a singles bar, though he couldn’t imagine Ellie going to one.

  “If he hangs out in your mother’s circle, he must be well off.”

  “I guess. He lives on the Upper East Side, near the Guggenheim.”

  “Nice neighborhood.” And about a hundred times the amount he paid for his apartment. “You seeing him again?”

  Ellie fiddled with a paper napkin. “Maybe. He’s supposed to ca—” She cleared her throat. “We should get back to the key.”

  Sam cursed to himself. If this Kevin guy was smart, he’d make that phone call and not blow her off the way he’d done. “Sure, fine. Let me have a closer look.”

  She pushed it across the table with a single finger. “It’s engraved with a number—2376B. Any idea what that means?”

  “I don’t think it’s for a safety-deposit box. From what I understand, they aren’t engraved for security reasons. Might be a bus or airport locker, or one of those places that allow you to use their mailing address as your own.”

  “Any clue how I can find out what it’s for?”

  “I’ll ask around. And it’s we. I’m in this thing with you, no matter how many times you deny it.”

  She sat up straight. “This is between me and Gary.”

  “It’s between you and Thompson Veridot, and that makes me an add-on. Until I know for certain he isn’t the killer, I’m going to be on you like white on rice.”

  Ellie stood, and her dog rose to its feet. “It’s late, and I’m tired. I think you should go.”

  “Fine.” He stood and righted the chair. “I want you to phone me tomorrow after your morning walks, and again when you get home.” He took a step forward, and the dog growled. “Put a sock in it,” he ordered the pint-sized Cujo.

  The dog sneezed, and Sam swore he’d just been called a loser in canine speak. Then the animal padded into the hall and turned in the direction of the bedroom.

  Sam followed Ellie to the foyer and stood at the door, deciding it might be time he came clean. “This is probably too little, too late, but I was an idiot when I didn’t do what I said I would in that note. I don’t know what else to say.”

  She folded her arms and rested her back against the wall. “I wish you’d forget that night, because I have.”

  He took a step closer. Raising his hand, he cupped her cheek. “It’s tough pretending we didn’t make love, Ellie.”

  She didn’t pull away. “You should have thought about that the day after you left me. I waited for a week, then two. Then I did my best to file the experience under ‘bad ideas I’ve had in my life’ and move on.”

  They locked gazes, and he inched forward, then brushed her mouth with his. Relief washed through him when she let him tease her lips. This might be all she’d allow tonight, but it was a start.

  Drawing back, he grinned at her baffled expression. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

  Chapter 12

  “How did it go with your late-night visitor?” asked Viv, walking beside Ellie the next morning.

  Ellie shrugged. She’d slept like a log—once she managed to erase Sam’s parting kiss from her brain—but that had been around three. Now, at seven thirty, with the temperature and humidity in the high eighties, she was hot, sticky, and out of sorts.

  “The pompous jerk has ‘pain in the ass’ down to an art form. No matter what I say, he insists he’s right and expects me to obey his every command, no questions asked.”

  Looking cool and professional, Viv straightened the cuffs on her gray Yves Saint Laurent suit. “He’s a police detective. He’s used to people following his orders. And if I read him correctly, he’s worried about you.”

  They waited while both Rudy and Mr. T lifted legs on a fire hydrant. “He needn’t be. I’m not going to do anything stupid.”

  “If Thompson Veridot did kill his brother, it’s a sure bet he knows about you, which means anything can happen. Sam’s only trying to protect you.”

  “I plan to stay on my toes for that very reason. Right now, I’m bummed about this afternoon’s errands.”

  “And what might those be?”

  “Besides trying to stop in a couple of places that rent storage boxes so I can place th
e key, I have to call a crematorium and arrange for the disposal of Gary’s body.” She heaved a sigh. “I also have to order a memorial plaque for his tree. Once I pick up the ashes, I’ll set a date for his dedication ceremony.”

  “Planning on inviting anyone I know?” Viv asked, a sour expression on her face.

  “You don’t have to be there. Rudy and I can do the deed all by our lonesome.”

  “Great—go tromping through the underbelly of Central Park alone and unprotected. Just remember, if you get mugged, I’ll never forgive myself.”

  Ellie grabbed Viv’s arm and planted her sneakered feet. “Why the heck does everyone think I need a bodyguard?” She blew an angry breath upward, ruffling the curls plastered to her forehead by the morning heat. “I am not a child. I’m an adult, with a brain, I might add. I don’t follow you around warning you to be careful or watch who you’re dating. And I never lecture you on how you should manage your life.”

  Viv crossed her arms and rolled her eyes. “Well, so orr-ree. Can I help it if you’re my best friend and I’d like to keep you around for a while?”

  Deflated, Ellie hoisted her tote higher on her shoulder. “I’m not blaming you for my misery. Sam just makes me so mad.” She bit her lower lip. “Last night, he accused me of being a Goody Two-shoes, intimated I’d lived a sheltered life and didn’t know how to defend myself. He acted as if it was a crime to study hard and make your parents proud.”

  “You did that?” asked Viv. “I knew there was something about you I didn’t like.”

  “Ha-ha.” They reached the corner where Ellie decided enough was enough and turned for home with Viv and Mr. T on her heels. “You were a good kid, too. At least that’s what you led me to believe.”

  “Define good.”

  “Just what I said. Studied hard, got decent grades, and told your parents when you did something they forbid you to do.”

  “Uh-oh.”

  “What?”

  “I thought by good you meant not being sexually active until college. I hung on until freshman year.”

  Ellie groaned internally. Had any other women on the planet held on to her virginity as long as she had? “Yeah, me, too,” she lied.