Mission Impawsible

by Krista Davis

  “Dogs, with their superior olfactory skills, are far better at this than we are.” Macon eyed the platter. “Oh, a nosh! Just the ticket.”

  “Dogs are better at finding bodies?” I asked.

  “Um, probably. I imagine they’re better at that, too.” Macon popped a grape into his mouth and slathered a piece of bread with soft goat cheese.

  John leaned over and sniffed me.

  I drew back. “I’m not dead yet!”

  Macon laughed. “Darlin’, we were talkin’ about finding a mate.”

  John inserted a blackberry in his mouth and chewed it. “Macon says we’re attracted to people who smell like our parents.”

  “That’s silly!” I shook my head and helped myself to the Brie.

  “So if I want to attract Holly, I should find out what kind of cologne her dad wears?”

  “That might help.” Macon winked at me.

  “That’s ridiculous. If that were the case, cologne manufacturers would tout it,” I joked.

  “It’s not junk science, sweetheart. Scientists have studied love. It’s very mysterious, but there are some things we know about it.” Macon held out his glass for more wine. “Romantic attraction, and by that I mean the kind of love one has in a long-lasting marriage, is complex, of course, but, Cinderella stories aside, we know that most people are interested in mates from their same social group and intellectual level. I believe it’s because we’re more comfortable when we can relate to our mates. Thousands of years ago, we probably had better olfactory skills than we do today. People who smelled like us and our families were favored as mates because they seemed more familiar.”

  “So that’s what happens with the dogs? You mean like Trixie and Cooper?” asked John.

  “Well, there’s an interesting example. All three of those dogs are getting along very nicely. But do you notice how Trixie and Cooper are lying close together, and Huey is off to the side? He likes them just fine, but he doesn’t have a bonding attraction to them.”

  “Isn’t that just pack behavior?” I asked.

  “The pack behavior is the gettin’ along. But it’s clear that Cooper and Trixie like each other more than they like Huey.”

  “So Trixie’s father wore the same cologne as Cooper?” I jested.

  Macon guffawed. “You’re not too far off. Cooper might smell like Trixie’s daddy or a dog that Trixie knew and liked, so she is especially accepting of him.”

  Hmm. Gustav might have been a jerk, but maybe this was what he meant when he said Macon was a fraud. I could accept that there were subtleties that we might not realize about attraction, but I could also understand why some people would poo-poo the theories.

  Macon cut a wedge of Gouda. “Here’s another little fact that surprises a lot of my clients. You have four minutes to make a good impression. Maybe not even that long. Most people take ninety seconds to four minutes to determine whether a person is mating material for them.”

  “No! Really?” John looked at me. “That means it’s love at first sight. I thought that was a myth.”

  Macon grinned. “Yep. It really happens that fast. You wouldn’t think so. You’d think people would want to know more about the other person first, but that’s how quickly we size up potential mates. You’ve heard of those speed-dating sessions where everyone moves around and meets potential partners for only a few minutes? They might seem like nonsense, but they work because that’s all it takes for us to size somebody up.”

  “So we base it solely on appearance, then?” I asked.

  “Now, don’t go mixing up romance with sex,” Macon said.

  “Don’t they go together?” John laughed.

  “They do. But sex drive is totally different from romantic love. Sex drive is casual, but romantic love is for keeps. In those first minutes, you don’t even realize that all your senses and your brain are judging the person. Appearance is part of it, but there’s much more than that. All sorts of interesting things are happenin’ in our brains when we meet someone for the first time.” Macon drained his wineglass. “I have an early morning with the cat people, so on that note, I bid you a very good night.”

  Macon waddled into the inn, leaving John and me with the dogs.

  “He’s an interesting guy.” John plucked another blackberry from the platter. “When I got up this morning, I never imagined I’d find a dead body or end the night talking about how people fall in love. What a bizarre day this has been.”

  “For me, too. Maybe we should call it a night?”

  John left for his rental house with Cooper, and I spent a few minutes cleaning up the kitchen and making sure the inn doors were locked.

  I took Trixie and Huey outside for their last bathroom break of the night. This was usually a quiet time in Wagtail, but tonight I heard people talking and laughing out on the green. I waited for the dogs in the dark, looking up at the stars.

  Trixie let out a little mmmff. Not a real bark, more of an alert. I wasn’t surprised. In the light of the moon, I could make out quite a few silhouettes of people on their way somewhere.

  On our return to the inn, our night clerk, Casey—who always reminded me of a young Harry Potter with his round glasses and dark hair—was at his station by the front door. I said good night and headed up the stairs, wondering, for the first time in hours, what had happened to Ben.

  When Oma had renovated the inn recently, she’d carved an apartment out of the attic with me in mind. Except for a huge storage room, nothing else was on the third floor of the inn. My luxurious penthouse spanned the width of the main building. My bedroom overlooked Wagtail, the green, the roofs of houses, and the mountains beyond. On the other side, my living room had a large deck with a view of Dogwood Lake.

  When I walked in, the French doors to the deck were open, letting in the balmy night air. One of the curtains twitched a little at the bottom. I called out, “Where could Twinkletoes be?” The curtain wiggled again. I intentionally walked by it, pretending I didn’t know she was there. Twinkletoes dodged out, hooked my ankle for a second, and then dashed away. I couldn’t help laughing. She jumped on the back of a big easy chair. I scooped her up into my arms. “What’s going on? I’ve hardly seen you today.”

  She purred a response. I held her for a moment longer than I should have, soaking in the soothing calmness of her purrs. She finally squirmed, and when I released her, she ran to my tiny kitchen. Aha. What had Gustav said? They loved the food we gave them, not us. I didn’t believe it for a minute.

  I took a second to let Huey off his leash. “You must be tired of being on a leash all day. At least you can run around the apartment without it.” I hurried over to the hidden pet door in the dining room and made sure it was closed. I didn’t want them all sneaking away while I slept.

  But when I returned to the kitchen to feed Twinkletoes, I found her waiting with a companion. A large orange and white tabby gazed up at me. “Who’s your friend?”

  Twinkletoes rubbed against my ankles. I bent to see the name on the tabby’s collar. “Aha. The elusive Marmalade. That’s a long name. Do they call you Marma?” He pushed his head against my hand when I stroked him.

  I checked the fridge for cat food. “Hmm, chicken. That doesn’t seem special enough for a date. How about duck? Very romantic,” I assured them.

  They must have approved because they wound around my legs so vigorously that I could hardly take a step. I lowered the food to the floor in two bowls and watched them chow down. When they licked their lips and walked away, I snatched up the almost-empty dishes before Trixie and Huey could clean them for me.

  Twinkletoes and Marmalade settled on the hearth of the fireplace to wash their faces.

  Meanwhile, I sneaked over to the guest room and peeked inside. I didn’t knock, just in case Ben was asleep. But he wasn’t there. His duffel bag lay on the floor and literature about Animal Attraction
was scattered on the bed.

  It worried me a bit that he hadn’t come back. Socializing with strangers didn’t come naturally to him, so it seemed odd to me that he would still be out. Could it be that he had signed up for Live Love Bark, and Macon had accidentally matched him to the right girl? I hoped that could be the case and decided not to phone him. I knew he wasn’t right for me, but Ben was a decent guy at heart and deserved someone who would make him happy.

  When I returned to the living room, Twinkletoes and Marmalade had curled together for a nap. It was after midnight, too late to call Laura. I might wake her. On the other hand, she might not be able to sleep for worrying about Marmalade. I hoped her phone wasn’t set to make loud noises when texts came in. I texted, Marmalade is in my apartment and fine. Let me know if you want me to bring him down to your room. He’s welcome to spend the night here. Holly Miller

  That done, I showered, wishing I could wash away what had happened to Gustav. I slid into an oversized nightshirt. Even though I was weary from the events of the day, I couldn’t get Gustav out of my mind, and paced through the rooms.

  What a terrible death. Why had he gone out there near the river in the first place? And who would have wanted to strangle him? All I really knew about him was that he was opinionated and didn’t know when to keep his tongue. I wondered if that had led to his demise.

  Ben didn’t return before I hit the sack. The two cats migrated to my bed, as did Trixie. But Huey stayed in the living room. I wondered if he was waiting for Ben.

  * * *

  I woke to loud whispering.

  When I opened my eyes, two shadowy figures were in my bedroom.

  Nine

  I tried to scream, but nothing came out. In horror, I rolled off the bed, away from them, and fell to the floor. I jumped up.

  They were between me and the door!

  They screamed at the same time I finally screamed.

  I flicked on the light next to the bed. Nessie and Sky stood in my bedroom.

  “I told you that wasn’t her snoring in the other room,” Sky declared.

  Nessie held up a green T-shirt with holes in it that looked like someone had tried to shred it. “Who have you been sleeping with, honey? Looks like some wild times to me.”

  I blinked, still trying to figure out what was going on. How did they get in? “Huh? That must be Ben’s.”

  “My, my. He must be a wildcat!”

  I wanted to shout, What are you doing in here? I glanced at the clock. It was three in the morning. I managed to choke out, “Is there something I can do for you?”

  Nessie spat out, “Lulu and Duchess have been stolen!”

  I could hardly think straight. “Who is Duchess?” I slid on my lush white Sugar Maple Inn bathrobe.

  “A WAG dog.” Sky brushed a wild cloud of hair from her face. “I’m in the If the Dog Fits program.”

  She seemed completely earnest, but I knew that had to be a lie. She hadn’t made reservations, and she had checked in at nine o’clock without a dog. WAG would have been closed. Not to mention that the shelter would have notified me.

  I blinked at her. “You didn’t arrive until nine. WAG wouldn’t have been open.”

  “I met the lady who runs the program last night, and she said she had just the dog for me, so we went and got Duchess. But now she’s gone!”

  Nessie seemed impatient. “I’m certain they were after Lulu. She’s a retired champion. I bet somebody recognized her and knew he could get a lot of money for her. I called the police and they’re on the way.”

  They followed me into the living room.

  Putting aside the issue of the mystery dog, Duchess, I asked, “When did you see them last?”

  “When we went to bed,” said Sky.

  “Lulu always sleeps with me.” Nessie’s fists were tight as knots.

  Only then did it dawn on me that Trixie hadn’t barked at them. I turned and looked around my apartment.

  “What are you doing? Aren’t you the least bit concerned about a thief in your inn?”

  “Yes. Yes, of course I am. Would you excuse me for just a moment?” I hurried back to my bedroom. No Trixie, no Twinkletoes, no Marmalade. I peeked in Ben’s room. He snored, dead to the world despite the screaming, but Huey was nowhere to be seen.

  I rushed back to Nessie. “None of my animals are here either.”

  Nessie pressed her palms on the sides of her face in horror. “It’s worse than I thought. It must be a crook from a laboratory who wants them for testing. Ohhh, my poor Lulu!”

  “How did you get into my apartment?” I closed the door and accompanied the two women down the stairs to the main lobby.

  “Your door was open.” Nessie said it without an iota of shame. “Your grandmother told us you live upstairs.”

  No one sat at the desk where Casey should have been. He’d been known to relax in the Dogwood Room before. Nessie followed me there, fretting aloud.

  No sign of Casey.

  But I heard something. Something that sounded like a yip.

  “They’re in a room being held hostage!” Nessie’s eyes were wide.

  “I don’t think so.” I passed the grand staircase and headed for Oma’s private kitchen.

  We surprised Casey when I opened the door. A book was open on the kitchen table, and he was eating leftover chicken salad.

  “What are you doing up?” he asked innocently.

  “We’re missing dogs and cats. Have you seen any?”

  Nessie couldn’t contain herself. “They’ve been stolen for nefarious purposes. Did you see anyone dragging them out? I know my Lulu would never have gone willingly.”

  “Haven’t noticed a thing. We had a lot of guests come in late, but it’s been a quiet night. Hey, Holly? Marmalade’s mom came in with Ben and went up to your apartment to get Marmalade. She said Trixie growled at Ben, so they decided to leave Marmalade there for the night.”

  “Thanks, Casey.” I must have been sound asleep when Ben returned. The yip sounded again. I let the door swing shut. Following my instincts, I checked the inn’s commercial kitchen, the only room where dogs and cats were not permitted in a nod to the health code.

  It was silent and empty. But the next yip was closer.

  “It came from there.” Sky pointed at a door that was slightly open.

  Oh no! The inn stocked an assortment of commercial cat and dog foods. Many of our guests preferred to feed their pets the same things they ate at home instead of the inn’s gourmet food. As a courtesy, we asked their preferences when they made reservations so we could be sure we had their favorite brands on hand.

  I strode to the pantry where we kept the commercial pet food and flung the door open wider.

  If the dogs had worn hats, it would have looked like a wild party. Bags of kibble had been torn open and the yummy contents had spilled onto the floor, where Gingersnap, Trixie, Huey, Lulu, and an unfamiliar white dog, presumably Duchess, munched to their hearts’ content.

  As I stood there watching them, something pelted the top of my head. I looked up in time to step aside and avoid a shower of dry cat food that rained from above, where Twinkletoes and Marmalade sat on a high shelf, clawing open bags of kitty kibble.

  “Lulu!” Nessie shrieked. She swooped down to grab the little dog, who made a panicked run for it. Her claws clicked on the floor as she scampered out the door and away from Nessie.

  “I’m holding you responsible if she gets sick. She’s on a very special diet. She’s never eaten a morsel of grain in her whole life!” Nessie left to chase Lulu.

  I focused on the other dogs. Gingersnap and Trixie had the decency to be embarrassed. Probably not for what they had done, but for being caught at it.

  “Out!” I said it in my best scolding voice and pointed at the door. Gingersnap and Trixie pinned their ears back and hustled out of
the pantry.

  Huey and the other dog, presumably Duchess, continued eating like they’d never seen food. I should have been angry, but I felt sorry for them. I didn’t know their histories, but maybe they had been hungry, like my Trixie, who had had to dig through trash for food to survive before she met me.

  Twinkletoes and her friend grew bored once they ate their fill. They jumped down and paraded by me without so much as a whisker of regret. Their tails high, they stalked out of the pantry with feline confidence.

  Sky called her dog, but if Duchess recognized her name, she gave no indication of it. She was a beauty. Her long white and tan fur gleamed. She reminded me of a border collie in size and shape. She gazed up at us and tentatively wagged her tail. The fur on it waved gracefully.

  “Come here, sweetie. Are you Duchess?” I squatted to her level.

  She approached me cautiously, carrying her head low.

  I felt her neck for a collar. It matched Huey’s WAG collar. “You must have been hungry!”

  She wagged again and licked my face.

  “Okay, you two. Hop on out so I can clean up.” I nabbed them by their collars and escorted them out of the pantry.

  A knock at the front door drew my attention. The entire pack raced there as though they anticipated excitement.

  I unlocked the door and Dave stepped inside, looking exhausted. “A Nessie Jamieson called to report a stolen dog?”

  “We found her,” I said. “I’m sorry she got you out of bed. Nessie’s a little high-strung.”

  Dave squatted to pet the dogs, who shamelessly kissed him with such gusto that Dave fell over backward. Laughing, he sat on the floor, petting all of them.

  Twinkletoes and Marmalade watched from the grand staircase, their tails twitching.

  “What’s with all these dogs?”

  I told him about the mismatch between Huey and Ben. “I think they’re going to be the first couple to flunk out of If the Dog Fits. And apparently this pretty girl is also in the If the Dog Fits program. They executed a midnight raid on the dog-food pantry.”