Till Death Do Us Bark

by Judi McCoy

  “Awwwk! Downtown! Things will be great when you’re doooown-town. Awwwk!”

  Petula Clark, thought Ellie. The woman would be less than thrilled to hear her greatest hit squawked by a parrot, even if it was a perfect voiceover. “Let’s go, guys,” she said, herding the canines like a Border Collie. “Everybody on the stairs.”

  “But I should stay here. Gotta sniff out those clues,” yipped her boy.

  “Me, too,” groused Mr. T, staying at Rudy’s side.

  The Bostons simply obeyed without complaining, for which Ellie was grateful. Standing with her arms crossed, she gave the dogs an eye roll. “Come on, you two. Get moving.”

  Viv sneaked up behind them and stomped a foot. “You heard the lady. Down the steps and into the pen.”

  Myron screeched another round of Petula’s song while the pups scampered ahead of Ellie. “Hey, not so pushy, fool,” T continued, trotting to the grass below.

  “No way, Triple E. You need me up there,” said Rudy. “I’ll be able to tell you what’s really going on.”

  She opened the gate and ushered the dogs inside, then squatted on the outside of the fence and laced her fingers through the mesh. “It’s going to get crowded when the cops bring Tomas here,” she said in a low tone. “And I can’t treat you any differently than I do the Boston Terriers.”

  He propped his paws on the fence and licked her hand. “Sure you can. I’m your boy.”

  “I know, and you are, but not right now. Besides, I’m counting on you to stay alert and use your exceptional hearing to pick up on what’s being said.” She didn’t really expect him to do that, but she did want to make him feel secure. Dropping her tone, she said, “You could talk to Corey or the female Bostons. Maybe they know something about Dr. Kent we should know.” Hoping the comment would appease him, she stood. “I’ll be back for you in a bit.”

  “Sounds to me like you’ve decided to take the case,” Rudy called to her.

  Ellie walked to Viv and laid a hand on her arm. “I have a feeling this is going to get ugly, so please don’t say a word when we arrive up top. We might be able to get more info on the investigation by keeping our ears open and our mouths shut.”

  “Then you’re officially on the case?” Viv asked, echoing Rudy’s question.

  With Rudy and Viv pushing her, Ellie felt she had no choice but to dive feetfirst into Dr. Kent’s murder. She’d been thinking all day about her early-morning conversation with Rosa, and realized the housekeeper was a nice woman who’d gone through an ordeal with her daughter while trying to protect her employer. By refusing to incriminate Dr. Sleazeball, she was more than loyal, but there was no use covering for the doctor now that he was dead.

  Unfortunately, Ellie had ignored much of what was probably important to the case because of the word “vacation .” She had a lot of catching up to do if she was going to put all that had happened in order. “I’m seriously thinking about it,” she answered Viv. “Now let’s go up. And remember, no talking.”

  When they arrived on the terrace, the police escort and Tomas were already there. Sporting a day’s growth of beard, the young man appeared sullen and withdrawn. Dressed in a formfitting white T-shirt and clean jeans, with his hands cuffed behind him, he was maybe five-foot-eight. His muscular build reminded Ellie of the middleweight boxers she’d met when she took the self-defense classes Sam had set up for her at a professional gymnasium last year.

  But was he strong enough to have sent Martin Kent, a man who’d been at least six feet tall, sprawling backward so hard that he fell and cracked his head on the walkway?

  Wheeling finished reading Tomas his rights, then said, “Okay, son, it’s your turn. Is there anything you want to tell me about the night of Dr. Kent’s death?”

  Before he could answer, Rosa charged through the kitchen door and threw herself at her son. “Mi hijo es inocente. Tomas, he is a good boy. He did not do what you say.”

  When the arresting officers stepped near and pulled her away, she began to sob. “No lo entiendo, te lo juro. Mi hijo es inocente. Le juró. Me prometió. Por favor, please don’t take my son.”

  “Awwwk! No lo entiendo. No lo entiendo,” Myron squawked.

  Shaking his head, Tomas said nothing.

  Ellie threw the dopey bird a warning glance, but he continued screeching.

  “Awwwk! Mi hijo es inocente. Le juró. Le juró. Awwwk!”

  Rosa’s sobs grew worse, her meaning clear. Her son was the light of her life. He never could have done what he was accused of doing. “Ms. Arlene, please tell them Tomas is innocent. He did not do what they say.”

  Arlene stood and squared her shoulders. “Really, Detective, Mrs. Suarez is correct. Tomas arrived home only a short while before the caterer found Martin. How could he have been the killer?”

  “Arlene,” Ellie began. “I think that’s something for a lawyer to ask.”

  Arlene rounded the table and gathered the housekeeper in her arms. “Then I’ll get him a lawyer, Rosa. The best money can buy. Where’s Julio? He should be with you right now.”

  Where was Julio? It seemed strange that the man wasn’t here with his only son, but Ellie kept the thought to herself. She raised a questioning eyebrow in Rosa’s direction and the woman shook her head, as if to say “I will tell you later.”

  Wheeling gazed at the sky, then dropped his head and stared at the group. “Look, I understand you people don’t want to believe the kid would do such a thing, but we have a motive and we have evidence. I suggest, Ms. Millman, that if you know a good attorney you have him meet us at the county lockup.” The detective trained his eyes on Tomas. “Unless, Mr. Suarez, you want to say something?”

  Ellie waited for Tomas to protest or make some sort of comment, but he stayed mum.

  Wheeling nodded and the officers filed out with the young man between them; then the detective headed into the kitchen with James Bond on his heels.

  Arlene helped the housekeeper into a chair and sat next to her while Ellie and Viv took seats on the opposite side of the table. When Viv tipped her head in Rosa’s direction, Ellie got the message.

  “It’s not that bad, Rosa. Just a few months back, a friend of mine was found kneeling over a dead body with the weapon in his hand, and I helped him go free. That’s got to be more incriminating evidence than what they have on Tomas.”

  Arlene drummed her fingers on the table. “Viv told me you were an expert in unraveling murders, but were you actually able to find the killers and solve the cases yourself?”

  Preparing to tell the truth, she swallowed hard. “That’s not exactly how it always happens. On the last case, it was the dogs that recovered the evidence. I only—”

  “Ellie’s being too modest,” Viv chimed. “She’s helped solve several murders in the recent past, and she’s on top of this one, too, aren’t you?”

  When Ellie didn’t answer, Viv gave her an elbow jab. “Aren’t you?”

  “I guess I could be, if you really wanted my help.”

  “Sí, sí, Miss Ellie.” The housekeeper wiped tears from her dark brown eyes, then pulled a fresh tissue from her apron pocket and held it to her face. “My son is innocent.”

  Ellie’s heart clenched when Rosa’s shoulders began to shake, signaling another round of sobs.

  Arlene’s eyes narrowed. “I can pay whatever fee you charge. Just name your price.”

  “I could never accept money for helping a friend in need,” Ellie answered, slumping in her seat.

  “What about if I promised to do what I can for your, um . . . skin condition?” Arlene offered, inspecting Ellie’s face. “I know a secret or two you can try. I even have something in my beauty arsenal that might work.”

  “How can you resist an offer like that?” Viv prodded.

  Recalling the way Agent Bond had laughed at the color of her skin, Ellie made a decision. She was enmeshed in this disaster whether she wanted to be or not. If hunting up a few more clues would get her complexion back to normal . . .
>
  “Okay, I’ll give it a shot, but please don’t hate me if I’m not able to help. The doctor’s office is probably the best place for me to start, but it’s still a crime scene, and without access, all I can do is go over things with you and Rosa.”

  It was then Jim Bond returned to the terrace. His expression grim, he pulled out a chair and got comfortable.

  “Let me get this straight,” said Arlene thirty minutes later. “You’re a DEA agent and you only made friends with me so you could get invited to our party, and gather evidence against Martin as a drug pusher.” Frowning, she leaned back in her chair. “You know something, Mr. Bond? You really are a slug.”

  He shrugged. “I’m a man with a job to do, Ms. Millman. Dr. Kent was the slug. We have info from several reliable sources that say he sold to anyone who had the money, including minors.” He glanced at Rosa, as if hoping she’d agree. When she didn’t speak, he cleared his throat. “And don’t take this the wrong way, but I believe you helped yourself to his medicine chest just as often as some of his so-called patients. If you fail to cooperate, you might be doing a little jail time yourself.”

  Arlene’s eyes filled with tears. “You’re bluffing.”

  “ ’Fraid not. As of this morning, Detective Wheeling has agreed to cooperate fully with me on the investigation into your fiancé’s business.”

  “What does that mean, exactly?”

  “It means they won’t make another move until I’m finished checking things out, which reminds me. The cops removed Kent’s office computer and they’re inspecting his records. I need to know if he had another computer—something small, like a PDA.”

  “He kept a data book, but I’m not sure where it is.”

  “Then I’d like to take a look inside your house.”

  Inhaling a breath, Arlene looked at Ellie. “Do I have to allow this man into my home?”

  “Not if you don’t want him there . . . but he could get a search warrant.”

  Arlene stared at the table, as if thinking; then she raised her head. “Get a search warrant, Mr. Bond. I’m tired of all your secrecy.”

  Agent Bond’s expression hardened. “I have a question for you. Have you taken anything today? Say a muscle relaxant or a little Percocet? Maybe a pop of Oxy or Valium?”

  Arlene brushed the tears from her flushed cheeks. “Unless you’ve checked my medicine cabinet, you have no idea what’s in there.”

  “Oh, I have a very good idea,” he continued. “You’ve had trouble losing weight, or you’re anxious about a tennis tournament, or maybe a match at the polo field. How about the good doctor giving you something to help you sleep on the nights he worked late?”

  Straightening her shoulders, Arlene said, “I think you’d better leave.”

  “I’m going. Just remember, Ms. Millman, that when the DEA is operating a case and we have probable cause, we can do what we want.”

  “Is that true?” she asked Ellie, her eyes wide.

  Since this was the first time Ellie had been involved in a DEA investigation, she was clueless. “I’m sorry, but I have no idea what he can or can’t do. This is why I told you I might not be of any help.”

  “Surely you have contacts,” said Viv. “Maybe Sam could point you in the right direction or—”

  Agent Bond stood, his chiseled mouth set in a grim line. “That’s it. I refuse to sit here and listen to you women trying to come up with a plan that will allow a killer to beat a rap or find a way to get Dr. Kent off the hook. You’re talking about the Drug Enforcement Agency, a division of the U.S. judicial system. Civilians have no right to poke their noses into our job, even if”—he stared at Ellie—“they’re trying to solve a murder for a friend.”

  He moved to the stairs. “If you don’t mind, I’ll be on my way. If I continue to sit here, I’ll have to arrest someone, and I have no intention of getting that involved with any of you.”

  “Jeesh, what a grouch,” said Viv when the agent made it to the grass below. She gazed at Ellie. “I was serious when I mentioned Sam. Do you think he could at least give us some info on what the DEA can and can’t do?”

  Ellie knotted her fingers. If Sam thought she was messing in another murder, especially one involving the DEA, he’d probably drive to Montauk and drag her back home, then lock her in that padded cell he’d threatened her with a hundred times before.

  “If I call him, I’d have to phrase every word carefully, more like I read something about the doc’s arrest in a local paper, or heard about it through the grapevine, and I was curious. Otherwise, he’d never lend a hand.”

  “If you’re dating a cop, you must have other connections in the police department. Think a minute.” Arlene fanned herself with a tissue. “Damn, I’m hot. Is anyone else hot?”

  Yes, the sun was shining, but it was close to one and the terrace was shaded by the house. With the balmy breeze, it was quite comfortable on the deck. “Maybe you stayed too long in the sun,” Ellie said, hoping that was Arlene’s problem.

  “I have to go to my suite.” She stood. “The girls need lunch, Rosa, but after what’s happened I don’t expect you to do it. Where are Teresa and Maria? Maybe they can fix something for Viv and Ellie.”

  “Don’t be silly,” said Viv. “We’re capable of feeding ourselves. Besides, I thought Rosa’s daughters were cleaning the family apartment above the guest cottage.”

  Arlene used the tissue to blot invisible perspiration from her cheeks and neck. “Right. Okay, then. Rosa, go to your place and rest. Viv and Ellie can take care of things here.”

  The housekeeper trundled off through the kitchen. Arlene crossed her arms. “I guess I’d better call my attorney and have him recommend a good defense lawyer unless . . .” She glanced at Ellie. “Do you have any connections in that area?”

  Ellie hunched forward. This was getting more involved by the minute. The only attorney she knew well enough to recommend was Joe Cantiglia’s uncle Sal, and she doubted he had enough experience to assist with this disaster.

  “Sorry, but no. The people I’ve helped all seemed to have their own legal advisers.”

  Arlene swiped the tissue across her cheeks again. “Fine. I’ll call my man and see what he says. I’ll probably take a nap after that, so don’t go looking for me until dinner.”

  “But what about my—” Ellie began. “Skin?” she said to Arlene’s disappearing backside.

  “Don’t worry. I’ll tiptoe into her bedroom and take a look at her beauty supplies myself when we’re finished eating,” said Viv. “You’re a saint for agreeing to do this. I’ll help in any way I can.”

  “Just get my complexion back to normal, so people don’t think I’m a tangerine.” Ellie pulled an arm out from her cover-up and took a long look. “It’s not getting any better.”

  “I don’t understand why that happened. I used the same stuff and it worked fine on me.”

  “I’m a redhead. Maybe my skin is more sensitive than yours? Or maybe I used too much?”

  “That won’t fly. I’m the one who did your back and shoulders, and they’re as orange as the rest of you.” Viv peered at Ellie’s face. “Take off your sunglasses.”

  When she did, Viv covered her grinning mouth.

  “It’s not funny.” Ellie blew out a breath. Then she ran her hand through her curls. “Terrible, right?”

  “Nah, but you do have those square white rings because of . . . well, you know.”

  “Oh, great. No wonder Mr. Bond refused to take me seriously. I look like an escapee from a freak show.”

  “It’s really not that bad,” said Viv, still smiling. “We’ll find something, don’t worry.”

  Ellie pulled her phone from the tote.

  “Have you decided to call Sam?”

  “I’m checking to see if he phoned me. That way, I can get back to him and he won’t think I’m calling specifically for his advice on this murder.” She thumbed through the numbers. “Nope. Just Mom, and she knows I’m here.” Then a lightbulb clicke
d on in her brain and she hit speed dial. “Maybe I can get some info another way. Hang on a second.”

  “Awwwk! Hang on, Sloopy. Sloopy, hang on! Awwwk!”

  Viv flapped her fingers at the chattering parrot. “Who are you contacting?”

  “Give me a second and I’ll—Hi, Dr. Bridges. It’s Ellie Engleman. I need to get hold of Dr. Kingsgate,” she said after hearing the medical examiner’s phone message. “If it’s not too much trouble, can you please pass this call along to her and ask her to phone me at . . .” She gave her number. “If I don’t answer, tell Dr. Kingsgate to leave me a number where she can be reached.”

  “Dr. Bridges? How do I know that name? And who is Dr. Kingsgate?”

  Ellie dropped the phone in her bag. “Dr. Kingsgate is the medical examiner Detective Wheeling said was handling this case. I met her when she was in training under Dr. Bridges when I bungled into Arnie Harris biting the dust.”

  “Stop putting yourself down. You haven’t bungled into anything. You’re exactly where you belong.”

  “Belong? You mean I’m supposed to be where the dead bodies are?” She gave Viv the evil eye. “Thanks a bunch.”

  “You know what I mean. They say the universe puts people in the right place at the right time, sort of like those characters in detective novels. Maybe that’s what’s been happening to you.”

  She thought about what she’d told Arlene: that she believed destiny was a huge part of everyone’s life. But why in the world was it her destiny to be the real-life version of Nancy Drew or Miss Marple or whoever the heck else some dippy author dreamed up?

  “Sorry, but I’m not buying it.”

  “Okay, then, what do you call it?” Viv leaned back in her chair. “And be honest.”

  What do I call it? Ellie continued to twist her fingers into a knot. “The opposite of what you think. I’ve been in the wrong place at the wrong time. Ask Sam. He has nothing good to say about my being involved in what he considers dirty business, and I’m not thrilled by it, either.”