Groomed For Murder: A Pet Boutique Mystery

by Annie Knox

  “Oh, well then. I had your folks in high school. Never really took to your dad’s history class, but he was a nice man. And your mom let us write poetry in English. Didn’t even care if it rhymed. Good people.”

  Apparently the goodness of my parents gave me, too, a patina of goodness. At least in Dee Dee Lahti’s eyes.

  “Well, come on over here so I can meet all those dogs you got.” Dee Dee didn’t put the shotgun down, but she did tuck it under her arm. I led the way as the three of us walked our menagerie over to meet Dee Dee.

  As soon as the dogs got close, Dee Dee dropped to her knees in the dirt and began loving on all four animals, laughing like a rusty hinge on a windy day as the pooches licked her face and bonked their heads into her hands.

  “Why don’t you all come inside while I get some treats for your fur babies?”

  I still hadn’t figured out what Dee Dee was doing at the construction site, so I had no idea what to expect when I climbed the steps into the giant trailer. Still, I was surprised at what I found: an office space, neat as a pin, complete with architectural drawings and whiteboards lining the walls. The only flaw in the otherwise perfect little office space was an ashtray overflowing with Dee Dee’s cigarette butts. The air was heavy with the dueling scents of the smoke and a lemon air freshener.

  We piled into the trailer, four people and four dogs, and Dee Dee waved toward the tan twill sofa to indicate that we should have a seat.

  She made her way around one of the desks, plopped into the chair, and dug through a drawer for a handful of dog treats for our critters. It was only then that I saw Dee Dee’s dog, a Shih Tzu with flowing auburn and white hair. The dog was perched on a purple velvet pillow resting on top of the desk. Next to the pillow, there was a china plate with what appeared to be scrambled eggs and sautéed chicken livers. This was one pampered pooch.

  Dee Dee must have tracked my attention. “This is Pumpkin. She’s mama’s special baby, isn’t that right, Punky-kins?”

  “She’s beautiful.”

  “So what are you three doing out here again?”

  Rena, sitting on the arm of the sofa, jumped in. “Just taking a walk. Trendy Tails opens late on Sundays, so we thought we’d take advantage of the beautiful weather and give the dogs some exercise.”

  “You’re really not supposed to trespass on the work site.”

  “Sorry about that. Curiosity just got the better of us. We’ve heard so much about the development that we wanted to see how it was coming along.”

  Rena sounded so casual. Technically, she wasn’t lying, but she certainly wasn’t telling the whole truth. Personally, I’m completely transparent. I can’t lie to save my life. But Rena was born with a streak of grifter in her soul, and she could sweet-talk the devil.

  “What about you?” she asked. “You working on the site?”

  Dee Dee drew herself up proudly. “Yes. I’m working the office here. I answer the phones, take lunch orders, that sort of thing. It’s not a glamorous job,” she said, her sly smile suggesting otherwise, “but I’ve got my foot in the door now. Figure if I do a good job, maybe I can get Mr. Olson to hire me out at the RV lot. That’s why I’m in today. Get some files tidied up so Mr. Olson can see what a hard worker I am.”

  For Dee Dee, who lacked some basic social skills and bordered on mental illness, this position at the work site probably represented a huge leap in her career opportunities. Still, I couldn’t imagine Hal Olson letting Dee Dee Lahti get in front of customers at his lot. Frankly, I was hard-pressed to figure out how she’d gotten the job at the construction site.

  As though she’d heard my thoughts, Dee Dee answered my question.

  “Steve and I were never all that close. I’m twelve years older than he is, and I married Kevin when Steve was still in grade school. But I’ve managed the desk for him on some of his projects and he remembered his sister. He knew I needed a job pretty bad, so he wrote a really nice letter of recommendation for me, even though he was pretty mad at Hal at the time. He’s so successful. Got that pretty wife and that beautiful baby boy. I’m so proud of him.”

  Sean and I shared a glance. Really? Steve Olmstead and Dee Dee Lahti were siblings? I’d known Steve for years, but if Dee Dee Olmstead had become Dee Dee Lahti when I was in grade school, I suppose it wasn’t shocking that I’d never made the connection. And I had to give Steve props for putting his reputation on the line for his loony sister.

  Hal Olson’s motivation for hiring her, on the other hand . . . that I could not begin to puzzle out.

  “So you’re here just about every day, then?” Rena asked.

  Dee Dee nodded. “Yep. This place couldn’t run without me.”

  Sean leaned forward. “You ever see other people lurking around here?”

  For an instant, Dee Dee looked surprised. Then her eyes shifted to rest on Pumpkin.

  “What do you mean, ‘lurking’?”

  “You know. Just someone who didn’t belong here spending a little too much time hanging out.”

  Dee Dee turned her face back to us, her brow lowered and the suspicion on her face now unmistakable. “You mean the way you three are lurking?”

  Apparently Dee Dee was a little sharper than I gave her credit for.

  Sean just took it in stride, smiling back at her. “You could say that.”

  Dee Dee twisted her mouth to one side like she was contemplating something. Finally, she said, “Well, that fella that just died. He was here a lot. Never came on the work site, mind you. Not like you all. But he’d stand right at the edge of the water so he could see around the fence and watch what was happening.”

  “Didn’t you find that a little odd?”

  A hint of pink crept across Dee Dee’s cheeks, and her gaze drifted back to Pumpkin. “Maybe. But it wasn’t really my place to say anything.”

  “What did he do out there?” I asked.

  “Nothing,” she said. “He just stared.”

  Just stared. That’s what Richard Greene had said, too: that Daniel Colona had just stared at the work site.

  I was more convinced than ever that Daniel’s death had something to do with the development, but we were no closer to knowing why he died or who killed him. We would probably never find the answer unless we could figure out what, exactly, Daniel had been staring at.

  CHAPTER

  Eight

  As Sean, Rena, and I made our weary way home, we’d just turned onto Maple for that final block when my friend Taffy Nielson, owner of the Happy Leaf Tea Shoppe, bustled out of her store to grab me.

  “Izzy,” she said, her sugar-sweet voice tight with tension. “I need your help. I think I have a . . . a vermin.”

  “A vermin. Singular?” Rena asked.

  “Yes.” Taffy shot a glance just up the street to where Richard Greene was sweeping the steps of the Greene Brigade.

  “I’m not really sure I’m going to be of much help, Taffy,” I said.

  “Yes. You will be of tremendous help. Just come with me.” She looked like she was trying to control my mind with her fierce gaze. I’d never seen Taffy, a tender biscuit of a woman, show such fierce determination.

  For whatever reason, she wanted me to follow her, so I handed Packer’s leash to Rena. “Thanks for indulging us,” I said to Sean. “It may seem like a dead end, but who knows? Maybe we saw something today that will unlock the whole mystery.”

  “Anytime, Izzy.” Sean smiled one of his lopsided smiles, and I felt my heart twist in my chest. When he smiled like that, all I could see was my dear friend from high school who had harbored an unrequited crush on me. It made me want to travel back to that more innocent time, before I’d broken Sean’s heart and Casey had broken mine.

  Rena and Sean went their separate ways while I allowed Taffy to pull me into the tea shop. The inside of the store was as sunny and soft as Taffy herse
lf. The walls were painted a pale buttery yellow, and blue chintz tablecloths draped the tiny round tables, each set for tea service with china pots covered in quilted cozies and a scattering of votive candles arranged artfully. The cash register sat on a pastry counter that, come Monday morning, would be overflowing with finger sandwiches, macaroons, and petits fours. Behind the counter, the walls were lined with apothecary jars filled with teas in all manner of flavors, from simple English breakfast to complex herbal concoctions.

  “Okay,” I said, “what’s really going on?”

  “I really have a vermin. Ish. Vermin is kind of judgey, but he’s been getting into the bags of herbs I keep in back, and I’m terrified he’s going to dash across the floor when I have customers in here.”

  “What on earth are you talking about?”

  “It’s that guinea pig,” she stage-whispered.

  “That guinea pig?” It took a second for the penny to drop. “Gandhi? Gandhi is alive?” I couldn’t believe it. Last I’d seen poor Sherry Harper’s orphaned guinea pig, he was fleeing from the wrath of Richard Greene. He’d dashed out the back door, right past my aunt Dolly, and disappeared into the cold winter night. I figured there was no way he could have survived a Minnesota winter, but I guess the pig had more sense than I had given him credit for. I suppose if he had survived Sherry’s benign neglect, he’d learned a thing or two about fending for himself.

  “Where is he?”

  “I don’t know where he is right now. I’ve only caught a couple of glimpses of him. I can’t bear to bring in an exterminator, but I can’t have him in the shop. Besides, if Richard Greene finds out he’s still around, he’s going to be even more determined to close down Trendy Tails.”

  She was right, of course. One of Richard’s primary objections to our store was the possibility that nuisance animals would affect the buildings around 801 Maple. Gandhi had proved him right once before, and another pig sighting would send Richard into the stratosphere with righteous indignation. He was already giving us a hassle over the barkery. . . . Giving him more ammunition could prove fatal to our business.

  “Thank you so much, Taffy. I’m sorry if Gandhi is causing you problems, but I swear I’ll help you catch him.”

  Taffy sighed. “I know you will. And it’s hardly your fault. I just need to protect my herbs from the little guy and make sure no one sees him.”

  “Maybe we can get him to wear a tiny mask and cape.”

  “Phantom of the tea shop,” Taffy giggled.

  “I can make that happen.”

  We both cracked up.

  “Would you like a cup of tea?” Taffy asked when we came up for air.

  “I would love one. Too bad there aren’t any goodies.”

  Taffy slid around the counter to begin boiling water and getting the leaves ready to steep. Her head was down as she worked, but I could see her blush.

  “What?” I asked, my eyes narrowed as I searched my friend’s face for some sign of what was causing the flushing that crept across her cheeks.

  “What, what?” she parried back.

  “Oh, come on. I mention treats and you look like you’ve just accidentally flashed Reverend Wilson.”

  That teased a smile from her.

  “It’s nothing,” she demurred.

  “Uh-uh. Spill it.”

  She poured boiling water from the electric kettle into the pot and covered it to steep.

  “Okay, fine. I’ve started having a caterer provide my sweets and savories.”

  “Mmm. I’ve noticed that you’ve had a bigger selection lately. But that’s hardly a reason to blush,” I prodded.

  “Well, my caterer is Ken West. And, uh”—she squinched one eye closed as though she was already wincing from my reaction—“we may be dating.”

  I confess, Ken West would not have been my choice for my sweet friend. He’d engaged in some sketchy shenanigans to secure the capital for his new restaurant—shenanigans that involved Hal Olson, a strip club, and a certain someone who went by the name Cherry. I could hardly criticize the man for fighting tooth and nail for his business, but there had to be a line, and blackmail was surely over it. Besides, he rubbed me the wrong way. He always seemed disdainful, like Merryville and everyone in it were somehow beneath him.

  Still, if my friend saw something good in Ken and he was smart enough to see what a catch she was, I’d darned well keep my mouth shut.

  “What do you mean you ‘may’ be dating?”

  “We’ve been hanging out a lot. Talking and, uh, stuff. But we haven’t really had an opportunity to go on a real date. Like dinner or a movie.”

  “Oh.”

  “And you can’t tell anyone. Ken’s busy running his catering business and putting together all the renovations and menu for his new restaurant. He doesn’t want his backer, Hal Olson, to think that there’s any competition for his time and energy.”

  “Oh.”

  Alarm bells were ringing like crazy. Ken’s reasons for keeping his relationship with Taffy secret seemed pretty lame. I’d had so many girlfriends in college who’d had that kind of relationship with guys. Baby, I’d rather hang out here with you than go to some stupid party. I’m really into you, but why don’t we keep this to ourselves? Our little secret. Just so none of our friends try to break us apart. And then, after the novelty wore off, the guys disappeared, and the girls realized they’d been played.

  Still, Taffy was a grown woman, and I was hardly one to give romantic advice. After all, I’d been duped for fourteen years, not just a few weeks.

  “Well, I can’t say that I saw that coming,” I said.

  Taffy laughed. “Me neither. We’re so different. I’m such a homebody, and Ken is an aggressive businessman. He’s incredibly fit, and I’m a little soft around the middle. We’re really just night and day. But somehow it works. He actually treats me like I have a brain, and he’s an interesting man when you get past all the brash talk.”

  I must not have looked completely convinced.

  “Sorry, Izzy. The heart wants what the heart wants.”

  This I knew. I’d only learned that my childhood BFF Rena was gay, but since she came out to me, we’d talked a lot about our respective love lives (or the lack thereof). I knew that Rena’s attraction to curvy ladies was as much a part of who she was as my attraction to tall men. We don’t get to make decisions about whom we desire, only about what we do about that desire. Finally, Rena was starting to act on her emotions and had gone on a couple of dates with Jolly Nielson, Taffy’s older sister and a truly talented jeweler. And I was starting to let the light creep into my soul to uncover any feelings I might be harboring for Sean Tucker, who’d been relegated to the role of friend ever since I’d gotten dizzy and puked all over him in the fourth grade.

  With Rena on my mind, I decided to pick Taffy’s brain for gossip on my good friend.

  “You know that Rena and Jolly have been seeing each other, right?”

  Taffy nodded, but she didn’t look thrilled.

  “What?” I prodded.

  “Well, I love my sister so much, and I really cherish my friendship with you and Rena. I’m just afraid that if something goes south, it will make it hard for me to remain neutral.”

  “Do you have any reason to suspect that things will go south?”

  Taffy took a dainty sip of her tea. She shook her head, sending her halo of golden curls bouncing around her cherubic face. “No, not really. It’s just that my sister has been burned a few times in the past couple of years, and I know Rena hasn’t dated anyone for a very long time. I just hope that Rena’s not using Jolly as a trial run. That it isn’t a training relationship. Because it definitely isn’t to Jolly.”

  I grinned. “So Jolly’s pretty into Rena, huh?”

  Taffy moaned. “My sister falls hard and fast. And then when it ends, she’s a total disaster.
”

  “Don’t be so sure it will end. Rena and I have actually been talking about our love life, and she’s told me that she’d like to spend more time with Jolly. They’re both so busy that it’s tough, but I think Rena is smitten.”

  Taffy tipped her chin down and smiled up at me through her lashes. “Wouldn’t that be wonderful? Oh gosh, if they got married, we’d practically be sisters.”

  “We shouldn’t get too far ahead of ourselves. After all, they’ve only been on a few dates. But they do make an adorable couple, and love does seem to be in the air in Merryville these days.”

  Now, if I could just catch a little of that romantic juju for myself . . .

  * * *

  When I got home, I called Jack Collins at the station to thank him for expediting the clearing of the crime scene so Trendy Tails could open normally the day before. When he answered the phone, he was wearing his full-on cop persona.

  “Happy to do it,” he said in his no-nonsense, you-have-the-right-to-remain-silent voice.

  “Just thought I should let you know, we talked to Dee Dee Lahti at the construction site on Badger Lake. Did you know she’s Steve Olmstead’s sister? Well, anyway, she is, and so he helped get her a job there. She confirmed that Daniel was snooping around down by the work site, but she didn’t know what he was looking for.”

  “Wait. Who’s ‘we’? And why on earth were you out at Badger Lake talking to Dee Dee Lahti?” Jack’s tone had gone from all business to mild alarm in the space of a few sentences.

  “Relax. It was just me and Sean and Rena, and we went out there to see if we could find something hinky.”

  “Why?” Now he was starting to sound a little angry.

  “Because Richard Greene said that he’d seen Daniel down there several times, and we figure whatever story he was working on must involve the construction site. And the story he was working on is what got him killed.”

  “Okay.” Yep, definitely angry. “First, you and Sean and Rena are not cops. You should not be doing coplike things. Second, there’s no hard evidence to suggest that Daniel was working on a story at all, much less one that got him killed. And third, if you are right, if something at that construction site got him killed, you should be running like crazy in the other direction.”