Traitorous Toys (Cozy Corgi Mysteries Book 2)

by Mildred Abbott

  There was a pause, and then Carl sucked in a breath of his own. “Oh! You might be right.”

  They both looked at me, expecting me to have a similar reaction. When no further comment came, I decided to confess. “I’m sorry. I’m not sure what happened at the Chinese restaurant last night. I was at home looking for a good lawyer for Katie, just in case. And then came directly to my shop this morning.”

  Carl flinched. “A new lawyer for Katie? Why in the world would she need one? Gerald told me he was on her case.”

  Anna gave one of the largest eye rolls I’d ever seen and stared at her husband like he was the biggest moron in the world. And for once, Anna and I were on the same page. But I couldn’t let her get distracted by Gerald Jackson.

  “What happened at the Chinese restaurant last night?”

  Anna turned back to me, her gaze increasingly hungry as she grew voracious. “Declan served Daphne with divorce papers last night, right in the middle of the Chinese restaurant, right in the middle of everyone having their dinners. Can you imagine how devastating it must be?”

  I waited for the punch line, but none came. “I’m sorry, I don’t see how that was possible. Declan’s in the hospital.” When there was still no response, I added for good measure, “In a coma.”

  This time Anna’s eye roll was directed at me. “Well, of course I don’t mean Declan himself, dear. But someone on his behalf. He obviously must have arranged for the divorce papers to be delivered before he was attacked two nights ago. It doesn’t matter whether or not he’s in a coma. I’m sure whoever he hired to do it either didn’t know that he had been attacked or had already been paid so figured he should follow through on the job.”

  That made sense. Kinda. Daphne had gotten her divorce papers last night. One night after Declan was attacked. And just a few short hours after I’d seen her and Dolan kissing. Maybe they had known it was coming.

  “Were you there? Did she seem shocked?”

  Anna wrinkled her nose while shaking her head. “Goodness no. We only eat American food. Carl’s stomach can’t handle anything exotic.” She actually reached over and patted his extended belly. “But from what I hear, she sat there stone-cold sober and white as a ghost. Hardly any reaction at all, really. Then she handed it to her brother-in-law. But it was Duncan who lost his temper. Got up from the table, yelling at the poor guy who served the papers. Screaming about how he couldn’t do this to their family when they were in the middle of so much hurt.” She raised her eyebrows. “Another piece of evidence against Duncan, if you ask me. Losing his temper like that. Right in the middle of a restaurant, in public.”

  “I’m telling you, Duncan would never be able to do anything like that. He didn’t hurt his son.”

  No, but maybe Declan’s brother would. Maybe Declan had found out about their affair and was getting ready to expose it to the rest of the town, or to their father. Or maybe Declan told Daphne he wanted a divorce, and she didn’t want to be cut out of the business or the money. Either way, it seemed even from his unconscious state in a hospital room, Declan Diamond was able to cause drama and more pain for his family.

  As I left Cabin and Hearth, my mind mulled over all the different possibilities that could have happened within the Diamond family, including that maybe trying to figure out which one of them had tried to kill Declan was a waste of time. Maybe it had been all three. But I thought Katie had said she’d only heard one set of footsteps running away. I’d have to check.

  I was so caught up in the speculation that I’d barely taken three steps from their shop when I crashed into someone.

  They gave a loud oof, and there was a crash of packages to the ground. Watson’s barking went wild.

  “Oh, I’m so sorry. That was completely my fault. I wasn’t watching where I—” My sight caught up to my lips and caused them to close. Or at least quit making words. I was fairly certain my lips were hanging open.

  Leo Lopez stretched out a hand to steady me. “Not at all. I’m sure the fault was mine.”

  His yellow-brown eyes gazed directly into mine for a second, and then he looked down at Watson.

  It was only then I realized Watson’s frantic barking wasn’t due to the collision but to his excitement. He was on his hind legs, his front paws bashing against Leo’s knees. Though we’d only met once before, Watson’s reaction to Leo had been the same then, like he was another incarnation of Barry.

  Leo bent down to ruffle behind Watson’s ears with both his hands. “It’s good to see you too, little man. You’re a good boy. Good boy.” Though his tone had slipped slightly into baby talk, it altered to just a touch of heat, though his eyes didn’t look up at me. “You’ve been doing a good job of keeping your mama safe?”

  I forced a laugh I hoped sounded natural. “If by safe you mean eating me out of house and home, then yes. Quite safe.”

  “Good enough, I suppose.” Thankfully Leo continued to lavish attention on Watson, allowing me some much needed time to pull myself together.

  I’d moved to Estes Park to restart my life. Be with my family, open a cute little bookshop, and read by the fire every night with Watson at my feet. That was it. I was done with romance, done with men, and done with husbands or relationships. It had been bad enough when I’d met Branson Wexler, with all his classic good looks and muscles poured into a police uniform. To make matters worse, I’d run into Leo Lopez a couple of days later. Another man in uniform, this one a park ranger, and with a face and body nearly the carbon copy of a young Oscar De La Hoya—and at five years my junior, I truly meant young. Having only seen him once, I’d managed to put Leo out of my mind—mostly. Judging from the racing of my pulse, my heart couldn’t make the same claim.

  With Watson’s frantic exuberance abated to merely whimpering adoration, Leo picked up a couple of packages in a bag on the ground before smiling at me once more. “It’s good to see you, Fred. It’s been a while.”

  Whereas Branson was several inches taller than me, Leo was only slightly just, making it where his eyes could look straight into mine. And even in the winter light, they glowed like honey. I had to look away as I motioned across the street toward my shop.

  “I’ve been so busy, with trying to get the Cozy Corgi ready to open by January, and getting my cabin situated, that I haven’t had a spare moment.”

  “I know. That’s what you said when you texted.”

  Despite there being no accusation in his tone, I couldn’t help but feel a reproach, whether intended or not. Leo had sent me a message about a week after we met, saying he would love to get dinner sometime. At that point, Opal’s murder had just been solved, and Branson had also asked me to dinner. Maybe I’d taken the easy way out by simply texting back that dinner would be lovely, but at the moment life was too busy with the shop. Basically, the equivalent of I’d love to, but I have to wash my hair. The guilt I felt with him standing before me was irritating. I was in Estes Park for myself, not for a man. Not a policeman, not a park ranger, not for any uniform a tall, dark, and handsome might put on.

  “I really am busy.” Once more I motioned across the street as if he might have forgotten where my store was. “Even right now Katie’s in there shelving books. I really should be helping her.”

  “You don’t have to explain to me, Fred. You don’t owe me anything.” Another smile, completely unflappable. “I’m excited to see the Cozy Corgi. Like I said, having a bookstore where a taxidermy shop used to be sure makes me happier. I hated that place.” His tone grew serious, and he touched my arm once more, differently this time. The sensation wasn’t unpleasant. “I did want to thank you again. It hasn’t stopped the poaching, but at least one more poacher is out of business.”

  “You know I didn’t actually kill Sid, right? I simply found the dead owl in the freezer.”

  He shrugged as if the finer details didn’t matter. “Well, thanks to you, it was one more clue, even if Sergeant Wexler says it’s not related.”

  I’d noticed before, though
only hinted at in slight tone and vague dismissals, that Branson and Leo had a past. And not a good one. I tried to brush it off. “Well, anything to help.” I gestured toward his package-laden arms, adamantly not noticing the bulges of muscles as I did so. “Doing some Christmas shopping?”

  “Sure am. I’m heading home tomorrow. I just finished my shift at the park and needed to come down here and wrap up the rest.” He gestured with his chin toward the other block. “Luckily I’d already taken care of toys for the nieces and nephews. Otherwise I’d be out of luck today, considering….” His smile faltered, and he blushed. “Sorry. That was a callous thing to say. One I definitely don’t mean. I did hear you and Katie were part of the reason Declan is still alive.”

  Interesting how the version changed depending on who I was speaking to. It didn’t surprise me this was the take Leo would have. “That’s true. It seems he’s in a coma, but I’ve heard he’s getting better, so maybe he’ll wake up soon and all mysteries will be solved.”

  Leo cocked his handsome head, a slight dimple forming in his left cheek. “Mystery? You diving into this one too? Like the owl?”

  For one embarrassingly long moment, I nearly lied, fearing I would look foolish to him. And once more my irritation flared, and once more, at myself, not him. “I am. At first I just wanted to clear Katie, but it looks like that’s already happened. And now”—I shrugged, unwilling to sugarcoat—“well, now I just want to know.”

  His smile didn’t dampen nor did his eyes show any humor. Instead he nodded in approval. “You’re a fascinating creature, Fred Page.”

  “No, not hardly. My father was a detective. There were times he’d talk cases over with me. And I was married to another policeman for a while, though he wasn’t half the officer my father was. Or half the man, for that matter.” At that, his eyes widened, and I wondered if I’d announced about the ex-husband to try and scare him away. “I guess you could just say it’s in my blood.”

  He was distracted momentarily by Watson pushing at his ankles with his head once again, and he leaned down partially to give him more affection, but didn’t take his attention off me. “Like I said, fascinating creature. And I would know. I spend my days with fascinating and beautiful creatures.”

  It was my turn to blush, and for the third time, I motioned to my store. “I should get back. I really am—”

  “Busy.” He winked, and though there was no humor in his voice, it still lacked any accusal. “You know, I’ve heard that about you.” He seemed to consider, for the first time, a little unsure. “I’m done with my shopping. I’d be happy to help you… and your friend out. It would go faster with another set of hands. And then I could say I knew the Cozy Corgi back when….”

  Having Branson Wexler and Leo Lopez in my shop within an hour of each other was probably the quickest way to set the old place aflame. Or maybe that was just me. “No, but thank you. I do appreciate the offer.”

  Though his tone didn’t change, there was clear disappointment in his eyes. One that matched how I was feeling. “Well then, I’ll leave you to it. I look forward to the grand opening.”

  “Me, too. If it ever gets here.” I hesitated, looking for a good way to change my mind, one a little less obvious than wait, don’t leave, please come over. I couldn’t find one. “Have a safe trip and a wonderful holiday with your family.”

  “Thank you. I hope you and yours have a wonderful one as well.” Leo started to walk around me and then paused when he was even with my shoulders, which brought those golden eyes of his even closer. “And, Fred? It really was good to see you.”

  I nodded and swallowed. He was several paces away when I finally found my voice and mumbled that it was good to see him too. But I was certain he couldn’t hear. Then it hit me. I didn’t even thank him for his referral to his friend who’d built Watson’s dog run. That would be a great conversation restarter, and maybe we could work our way back to him helping Katie and me. Gritting my teeth, I refused to act on the impulse.

  Watson whined at Leo’s departure, and it took every ounce of my willpower to not turn around and watch him walk away. Instead I checked for traffic, and then Watson and I hurried across the street and back into the Cozy Corgi.

  I expected Katie to hurry over and demand to know what I’d found out from Anna and Carl. Instead she leaned against a half-filled bookcase with arms folded and one eyebrow cocked. “Well, Winifred Page, you’ve been holding out on me. I didn’t know you had two suitors.”

  “I don’t. I don’t even have one….” Why in the world was I bothering to lie about something so completely obvious to everyone? Whatever, I stuck with it. “I’m here for family, books, and hopefully one day homemade baked goods when you open your bakery. Other than that, men are off the table.”

  Katie unfolded her arms and started to shake her finger at me.

  I cut her off. “And what were you doing watching out the window, Little Miss Nosey? You trying to give Anna and Carl a run for their money? I would’ve thought better of you, Katie Pizzolato.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Then you’d be wrong.” Her smile grew a little more wicked, and her voice held a touch of singsong in it. “But whatever you want to tell yourself, my friend. You are here for the family, books, and baked goods. Right. And I’m here for the way the lack of humidity makes my lips chapped all the time. It’s wonderful.”

  “You know what, you’re a—”

  Katie cackled and shook her head. “A truly wonderful and adorable individual. I know.”

  A laugh burst from me. “Well, that much is true, I suppose.”

  We ordered a pizza and worked for another hour or so, then separated for the evening. It was clear that despite her sleeping in, Katie was still exhausted from her time in jail. Watson and I drove home, past the new developments of mini mansion log cabins, and wound our way through the forest back to what had been my grandparents’ old genuine log cabin. We had just stepped inside, me already envisioning curling up by the fire, when another thought hit me.

  I hurried to the kitchen and retrieved a small treat from the corgi-shaped cookie jar for Watson, not that he needed another one, but in prepayment for what I knew would annoy him. “I’ll be right back. I won’t be gone more than an hour.”

  As he scarfed down the treat, I hurried outside, locked the door, and jumped back into the Mini Cooper. I wasn’t sure whether the hospital staff would let me into Declan’s room, but I thought I had a good chance. Since it was well-known I was there that night, and even though some were accusing Katie of trying to kill him, plenty were saying I was the reason Declan was still alive. I couldn’t even fully fathom what I expected to find, but something. Even if it was just a gossipy nurse mentioning who had visited or if he’d mumbled something in his coma-induced confusion.

  Or, the way my luck was running with handsome men over the past afternoon, maybe I’d walk into his room and he would wake up. Ask to take me to dinner or some such nonsense. Despite myself, the thought made me chuckle. The man might be a womanizer, and he might’ve been charming when we’d met, but I highly doubted, at least judging from his wife, that tall, broad, and long auburn-haired was Declan’s go-to for dinner dates. But I wouldn’t have thought it would be true for Branson and Leo either.

  Luckily, as I’d experienced before in the police station, the hospital was also a stereotype of small-town life. There were no guards on duty, no front desk to check in, not even on the neuro unit floor, where I knew he was being held.

  I walked, unharassed, down the hallway, checking out names written in dry-erase marker under the room numbers. I heard a door slam, causing me to jump, but no one was coming for me, so I continued on. Halfway down the hall, I found it—Room 324, D. Diamond. Glancing around once more, I noticed a couple of nurses at the far end of the hall talking to a policeman, probably a guard who was supposed to be at Declan’s door. None of them looked my way, so I stepped inside.

  Like every other hospital room before it, the space was nondescript
, smelling of antiseptic, and even with the solitary string of Christmas lights hung over the shut window, it was depressing in the dim light. The only sound was the beeping of his monitors and the mechanical wheeze of the ventilator. Somehow, despite wires and tubes seeming to pour from his arms, bandages encircling his neck, and his mouth and nose covered with equipment to keep him breathing, surrounded by all the mundane, Declan looked like a male version of Snow White. Simply waiting for a kiss.

  Well, good luck, buddy. From what I hear, you’ve had more than your share of kisses.

  I took a couple of steps closer to the bed, still not sure what I was looking for. There were a few cards on the bedside table, a Get Well Soon balloon, and a small potted Christmas tree pruned from a rosemary plant. There was no blue soldier nutcracker, no flashing garland, no killer’s gloves. Nothing.

  Just Declan.

  “Who did this to you?” I narrowed my eyes at him, daring him to wake up and answer. “And what horrible thing that you did caused you to earn it?”

  He sucked in a breath, gagged around the ventilator, and I expected his eyes to open as he answered me. The steady beat of the monitor glitched, the pattern continuing in a staccato rhythm and then changed to one long continuous, uninterrupted beep. I glanced at the heart monitor, just in time to see the jagged red spikes trail off into a flat line.

  My own heart decided to flip, and then my feet moved even before my brain told me what to do. I rushed to the door and nearly threw myself out into the hallway. “Help! We need a nurse here! Quick!”

  Three nurses were already rushing down the hallway, apparently having been alerted by some system. The policeman wasn’t with them. They darted past me, not sparing a glance, and gathered around Declan.

  I leaned against the outside of the doorframe. Listening. Less than half a minute later, there were more footsteps, and a middle-aged woman in a lab coat also hurried past me and into the room. A doctor, I presumed.