Till Death Do Us Bark

by Judi McCoy

  “He was a big guy. When he slammed the door, it bounced back and smacked the wall,” muttered T, his muzzle against her chest.

  “He got to his car before we did, so we just missed jumpin’ up the side and getting a look at his face. He took off like he was drivin’ at NASCAR.” Rudy gave her chin a lick, then pushed his nose into her neck. “We tried, Triple E, but he got away.”

  “It’s okay.” She rubbed their heads. “You boys did good. Could you recognize him by his scent if you met him again?”

  “He smelled like medicine,” said Rudy.

  “Medicine?” Dr. B immediately came to mind, but why would she be here robbing the house? Was she big enough to slam her down like a linebacker? “A doctor smell?”

  “I guess. It was like chemicals.”

  Great. Ellie heaved a sigh. “How about the car? Did you notice anything about it?”

  “It was big and black,” T said. “And it had one of them emblems on the trunk. Like an upside-down Y.”

  A Mercedes, thought Ellie. There were probably five thousand in Montauk alone. “That’s good.”

  “Talking to yourself again?” Jim asked, walking to face her. “Here, tip your head a little and set this on the bump.”

  “It feels better.” She placed the towel on her head and winced when the weight of the ice settled. “Don’t they have a bag of peas in the freezer?”

  “Peas?” He frowned as if he thought her crazy. Then the light dawned. “Oh, yeah. I didn’t check, but I will.”

  The sound of footsteps came from the foyer. Then Rosa peeked into the room. “Dios mio! Señorita Ellie. Qué pasó, pobrecita? Estás bien?”

  “Sorry for the mess, Rosa,” Ellie began. “I think I interrupted a burglary.”

  “Es okay. I get the broom—”

  “Forget about the broom, and find me a box of Band-Aids or something I can use to make a butterfly wrap.” Jim stood. “And don’t touch a thing until I give the okay. This is a crime scene. I’m calling Wheeling.”

  Ellie lay in bed, a bag of frozen peas balanced on her left temple. T was under the covers on his mistress’s bed and Rudy was next to her, licking her cheek. Viv was finishing up in the bathroom.

  Between what she recalled and what Bond remembered, Detective Wheeling had pieced together his version of the incident.

  The family had left, but she’d stayed on the terrace at the rear of the house. When it grew dark, no one was inside to turn on the lights, so the house looked empty. Someone, probably one of the doc’s “patients,” needed a hit and decided to check his office for prescription pads, spare drugs, whatever he could find. He broke in and went to Kent’s home office.

  Then he heard Jim going up the stairs, and made to leave. That’s when she called out and he realized he was trapped. Head down, he raced down the hall and smashed into her, dropping her like a rock. On her way down, she knocked her head against the table, which broke the vase and sent things flying. When the dogs heard the commotion, they took off after the intruder, but had no luck catching him.

  Ellie thought it a plausible explanation, though her own theory was better. What if the burglar was the murderer, and he was looking for evidence that might incriminate him? Since Tomas was already locked up, that would prove the kid was innocent, and the real killer was running free.

  But Wheeling didn’t buy it and reminded her they had enough evidence to bring Tomas to trial. They were more inclined to believe it was a patient looking for a stash of drugs.

  Viv took that moment to arrive in the bedroom wearing a soft cotton nightshirt that fell to her knees. Walking to Ellie, she peeked under the bag of peas and tsked. “It looks like someone took a battering ram to your face. I just hope the cut doesn’t leave a scar.”

  Ellie fingered the lump and felt the butterfly bandage holding her skin together. “Jim said it wouldn’t if I left it alone for a while.”

  Viv smiled. “Agent Bond to the rescue? I told you he has the hots for you.”

  “Don’t be silly. He was here and he knows first aid. What else would he do?” She grimaced. “I don’t want to know how bad the rest of it looks, but tell me anyway.”

  Viv narrowed her eyes and peeked again. “The egg is huge, sort of like the jumbo size you can buy at Gristedes. The purple color goes over most of your forehead and it’s starting to cover your eye.” She raised an eyebrow. “Do you need help with the pain?”

  Ellie shrugged, which caused another Riverdance rehearsal . The egg was throbbing like a son of a gun. “Gee, I don’t know. Do you think Arlene has something that’ll make me comfortable?”

  “Don’t be sarcastic. You need it, so you’re not abusing drugs. Give me a minute.”

  She disappeared out the door and Ellie sighed. “Yippee. I’m about to hop on the druggie train right alongside just about everyone else in this house. I might as well tell Jim to arrest me now.”

  “That’s not true,” said Rudy, curling next to her hip. “It’s only for one night, so you can sleep.”

  “Yeah, I know. But I don’t want to fall into the trap most people do when they start taking the prescription-only stuff Jim keeps blabbing about.”

  “You got me, and I’ll make sure that won’t happen.”

  Viv reappeared with her hand cupped. “I got you a Valium and a Percocet. One to help you relax and one for the pain. Hang on while I get a glass of water.”

  Ellie groaned. She did not want to start using drugs, but the Riverdancers that had taken residence in her brain had another idea. The more she worried about the drugs, the faster they clogged.

  The side of the bed dipped and the dancers moved in double time. “Here, sit up and take these.”

  She opened her eyes and saw Vivie, her face screwed with worry, sitting on the edge of the bed, a glass in one hand and two pills cupped in the other.

  Struggling to sit upright, Ellie let the peas slide to the bed. Then she took hold of the cup, reached for the pills, and swallowed them down.

  Viv gave a tentative smile. “You should feel better in about twenty minutes. I want you to sleep until noon. Don’t worry. I’ll keep tabs on you, make sure there’s ice on that lovely purple mask, and keep track of your breathing. That sort of thing.”

  “Thanks,” Ellie mumbled. “You’re a pal.”

  “That’s what I’m here for.” Viv stood and the mattress evened out. Then she collected the bag of soggy peas. “Give me a few minutes to get rid of these and find more. If you lie on your right side, I can set the next bag on the bruise without disturbing you. Just relax and let the medicine take you away.”

  Ellie did as she suggested, turning to her right, and Rudy got comfortable behind her thighs. “How you feelin’?”

  “Unless somebody gives me a shot of morphine or Demerol, I doubt anything will work to make the ache go away. What I really want is Sam.”

  “The Defective Detective? What am I? Chopped liver?”

  Reaching back, she scratched his head. “Not for comfort, silly. Because I need to talk to someone about tonight.”

  “You do have that dick of a DEA agent. He seemed pretty chummy when you were comin’ out of it.”

  “He was being conscientious, that’s all.” She closed her eyes and envisioned him holding her gently, his chiseled mouth just an inch from her lips. “He’s turning into a nice guy.”

  “Be careful with ‘nice.’ It might be a trap.”

  “Stop talking crazy and go to sleep.”

  “I’ll do that after Viv gets here, freezes your brain, and douses the lights. Until then, I’m on watch duty.”

  Ellie smiled and closed her eyes. The Riverdancers’ clogging had slowed. She was safe as long as Rudy was here to protect her. And Viv. And Jim Bond, too.

  Rosa was nice, caring for her after the fall. Arlene had been nice, and Vanessa and Evan McCready, too. Adrianne hadn’t showed her face, even after two cop cars arrived with their lights flashing, but Adrianne might be nice, too.

  She heaved a contente
d sigh.

  Viv walked in and Ellie grinned. “Hi. You’re the best friend. How can I ever thank you for being so nice?”

  “Looks like the pills are working, huh, Rudy?”

  “Don’t talk to Rudy.” Ellie yawned. “Only I can do that.”

  Viv placed a bag of frozen vegetables on her temple. “You used up all the peas. We’re down to sweet corn.”

  “Sweet corn is nice.” She snuggled into the pillow, relieved to find the Riverdancers were taking a break. “Did I ever tell you my secret?”

  After flicking off the lamp on each nightstand, Viv sat on her bed and gazed at Ellie through the moonlight floating in from the French doors. “You have a secret? I find that hard to believe. You tell me everything.”

  “I do, I do. And it’s . . . nice.” She giggled. “Nobody knows, but I can talk to Rudy and T, all the dogs I walk, really, and they talk back to me.”

  “Uh-huh. And I talk to my plants. It helps them grow.”

  “You don’t believe me,” said Ellie, wounded that Viv would laugh at her deepest and most unusual secret. “But you’re still nice.”

  “Okay, I’m nice, the dogs are nice, the sea grass is nice. Even the sand fleas have something to be thankful for. Now go to sleep.”

  Ellie’s eyelids drooped. She felt light, as if she were filled with helium and floating above the room. She’d told Viv her secret, and Viv hadn’t said she was crazy. Vivie was nice. Detective Wheeling was nice. James Bond was nice, too. Right now the whole world was . . . nice.

  But Sam was the nicest, and she missed him. Maybe she’d call him tomorrow and tell him about tonight.

  Ellie turned over and stretched. Moving a hand, she found Rudy and gave him a good morning scratch. Then she stretched again and her head started to hammer. Worse, she had to pee.

  That made her groan. There were peas. Then there were pees. Only this kind of pee was different from the peas she’d had last night. Really different.

  Sitting up, she swung her legs over the side of the mattress and sucked down a gasp. What had happened to her head? It felt as if the entire tympani section of the New York Philharmonic were performing in her skull.

  Her feet were on the floor, but she wasn’t sure if she could or should stand. She opened one eye and spotted a bag of what was once frozen corn plopped on the cotton rug under the nightstand. Had she sleepwalked and robbed the freezer?

  Robbed? The word set off an alarm bell, adding to the racket in her brain. She raised her hand to her head and cried out. Darn but that hurt. The word “robbed” snaked into her brain again and another warning bell rang, loud and clear.

  She’d been involved in a robbery? Wait—no—not that. A burglary.

  She gave herself a mental pat on the back for knowing the difference, then frowned. Who the heck did she burgle?

  The balcony door opened and Viv stepped into the room. “I thought I heard you moving around. How do you feel?” She didn’t wait for an answer, but walked closer and put her hand on Ellie’s head.

  “Ow! Hey! No touching!”

  “I just want to see how things are this morning, or should I say this afternoon? Now hold still.”

  This afternoon? Ellie’s gaze shot to the clock on her nightstand. No, that couldn’t be right. “It says one thirty.”

  “Good for you. You can tell time. At least your brain is still functioning.”

  Wrinkling her nose, she glanced up. “Very funny. What the heck’s wrong with me?”

  “You mean you don’t remember? Well, that’s a bummer.”

  “Tell me, please. For some reason I’m a little mixed up.”

  “If that’s all, you’re lucky,” said Viv, sitting on her bed. “You crossed swords with a burglar here in the house last night.” She recounted the incident. “Your new best friend, Jim Bond, called Detective Wheeling and took care of you until we got home.”

  “Are you telling the truth?” asked Ellie. “Or are you just trying to confuse me?”

  Viv used a finger to cross her heart. “Truth, honest. And if you want a real treat, go look in the mirror.”

  Remembering she had to use the toilet anyway, Ellie stood and swayed on shaky legs.

  “If you need help, just say the word.” Viv stood and took a step toward her. “I’m here for you.”

  “No, no. I’ll be fine.” She shuffled forward, fighting to keep her legs in working order. Then she raised a hand to brush the hair out of her eyes and flinched. Touching her left temple, she cursed. It felt as if someone had glued half a lemon to her head. A very painful lemon.

  Hobbling into the bathroom, she aimed for the commode and plopped down, grateful that her plumbing was working full tilt. Right now she’d bet money that every part of her body had been run over by a semi going seventy on FDR Drive.

  Finished with business, she stood and used the bathroom counter to help keep her steady while she walked to the sink. She needed to brush her teeth, rinse her mouth, take a couple of aspirins, maybe douse her head under cold running water.

  Raising her gaze, she came face-to-face with the woman in the mirror. Her fingers moved of their own accord, gently probing the huge bump on her purple forehead, the dark circle under her left eye, the flush of color on her cheek.

  She closed her eyes and counted to ten, positive her swollen face was a trick of the mind. Viv had said she was in for a treat, and her brain had played along.

  When she took another look, she groaned.

  “What! What’s wrong?” asked Viv, running to the bathroom door. Watching Ellie inspect her face, she grinned. “I told you you were in for a treat.”

  “This isn’t a treat, it’s a disaster.” She braced her hands on the sink and hung her head. Bit by bit, the events of the night before washed over her. She remembered everything, including getting whacked by a human speeding semi.

  “Oh, God,” she said, moaning. “It’s all coming back to me.”

  She looked in the mirror and saw Viv standing by her side. “You sound like Myron imitating Celine Dion. But it’s good that you remember.” Viv stuck a hand in the pocket of her shorts and pulled out two tablets. “You want the quicker fixer-upper again?”

  “What? No!” Ellie shook her head and the cast of Riverdance started up again. “Give me a couple of ibuprofen and I’ll be fine.”

  “Okay,” said Viv, opening a drawer. She smacked a bottle on the counter. “Here you go. I’d take three, just in case.”

  Ellie did as she suggested, brushed her teeth, and hobbled into the bedroom. “I’m going to take a shower. Come in and get me if I’m not out in ten minutes.” She dug underwear from a drawer. Rudy jumped off the bed and followed her into the bathroom. Setting the bra and panties down, she turned on the shower and waited for the jets to steam the stall.

  “You gonna be okay in there?”

  “I think so. But if I’m not, go get Vivie, would you?”

  He dropped onto his favorite rug and stood guard. “Sure thing. But take it easy. You got all day to line up what happened last night to the murder.”

  She stepped into the shower and let the warm water wash over her, melting her misery under the stinging spray. Scrubbing with a loofa, she rubbed away all the aches and pains and pretended they’d never been there. Then she carefully washed her hair, keeping her hands off the lump.

  Outside the stall, she dried off and slipped on her panties and bra. Then she used a blow dryer and finger-combed her curls until they were springy. Heaving a huge sigh, she stood tall and went into the bedroom.

  Chapter 12

  Stretching out on the chaise, Ellie reached for her drink, a glass of plain iced tea with a sprig of mint and a slice of lemon. After taking a sip, she basked in the salty breeze and scanned the shaded terrace. Rosa had gently attached another butterfly splint to the small gash on her forehead, and given her a second dose of ibuprofen. She was comfortable and pain free.

  She’d tried to get Rosa to talk further about el doctor and the night of the murder, b
ut the housekeeper had pleaded busy the first several times Ellie had broached the subject, which made her realize there was no use making Rosa, who was stressed, discuss something so painful. Maria, Teresa, and Julio became her next targets, though she hadn’t seen any one of them since she’d settled on the deck.

  At the sound of footsteps, she focused on the stairs. Viv’s head appeared, then the rest of her, dressed in a tiny yellow bikini. When she hit the terrace floor, she dropped her tote bag on the table and pulled on her cover-up, a one-piece long-sleeved T-shirt that fell to midthigh.

  “You’re awake,” said Viv. “That’s a good sign.”

  Ellie envied her best friend’s golden bronze skin. She’d acquired a bit of color after the tanning debacle, too. The pale brown of her skin was better than traffic cone orange, but the iris purple of her face sort of put a damper on the tan. “I see you got a little more sun,” she said to Viv, trying to keep the envy from her voice. “You look great. Just like you’re supposed to after a summer vacation in the Hamptons . . . unlike me.”

  Viv eyed her and shrugged. “Don’t be so down on yourself. The purple will fade in a couple of weeks, and the lump’s already smaller. We’ll sit on the beach again tomorrow, and you’ll get a bit more of a ‘back from vacation’ glow, too.”

  “I’m not worried about the lack of a tan, but Sam’s going to go bananas when he sees my face. I’ve been trying to come up with a story, but I’m a terrible liar. So far I haven’t thought of anything I can say that he’ll believe.” She sat up and swung her legs over the side of the lounge chair. “What time is it?”

  “Hang on a second. I’ll check.” Viv went through the kitchen door and returned a few minutes later with her own glass of iced tea. “It’s five thirty, and Rosa’s cooking. She said it’s something soothing to help energize your system—Arlene’s, too.”

  Rosa had clucked over her from the moment Ellie had taken position on the lounger. Like a perfect mother hen, the housekeeper had delivered iced tea, a midafternoon snack, and a pillow for her head. She’d even brought Myron inside so his squawking wouldn’t disturb Ellie while she slept.