The Telltale Turtle (The Pet Psychic Mysteries)

by Jim Lavene;Joyce Lavene

  "I'll take care of it. Don't forget my wife's hermit crab."

  Mary Catherine promised not to forget and closed her cell phone. She dragged herself into the bathroom, thankful she'd put in a whirlpool bath when she'd remodeled the apartment. Gutted it was more like it, she considered, as she turned on the hot water and added relaxing bath crystals that turned the water Caribbean blue.

  The building had sat empty for a few years and the repairs had been massive before she could even think of moving in. The first floor had rats and burn spots where homeless people had made fires, surprisingly not burning the whole building down. The upstairs floor was large but had been used for storage. Her aunt had left boxes there that Mary Catherine had transferred to the basement after the entire building was restored.

  It had been an expensive project, but well worthwhile. She'd been lucky that her last husband hadn't insisted on a pre-nup so she got an equal share of his wealth along with his three children from his various other marriages. Between that and her signing bonus with the radio station, she'd managed to set up the clinic as well as her beautiful apartment.

  Soaking in the tub, she thought about the mess Colin was in. She wasn't a private detective, even though she'd helped the police with several investigations. Maybe Charlie was right and she should hire him to help find out what was going on.

  Baylor was still downstairs being pampered by jenny, but he reminded her she didn't especially trust Charlie and no good could come from spending too much time with him.

  She was surprised, since Baylor admitted to trusting Charlie. Apparently he meant in a friendly-stranger type of way. He didn't want her to get personally involved with the man. She laughed and told him she had no intention of anything but a business relationship with Charlie. Baylor heavily stressed his doubt.

  Removing herself from the cat's random thoughts, she thought about Charlie and her feelings for him. She wasn't sure what it was about him she found attractive. Goodness knew, he didn't seem to have any money and he had a knack for turning up at difficult moments, which could be construed as either good or bad. She didn't know if she'd want to spend time with a man whose presence was constantly linked with bad things happening. Still, it had been very nice to see his face right after the accident.

  Her little clock went off on the side of the tub. It hardly seemed any time at all. Her poor, abused body wasn't ready to leave the warm, relaxing water. She'd kept her cell phone on the edge of the tub in case Angellus or Colin called, but she hadn't heard from anyone. She hoped Colin was all right. It was frustrating to be in such a helpless position.

  She tried to focus on something else. Her reputation and name were on the line with the Meaty Boy taste test. She didn't want to form a totally negative opinion of the dog food, but it was difficult. For Colin's sake and the sake of revenue dollars for her pet psychic talk show, she had to give Buck a chance.

  She groaned as she got out of the tub and dried off. Tommy was complaining from the next room. She padded in there, wrapped in her towel, to comfort him. She never realized turtles became so attached to their owners. She didn't think of a reptile as being so personable. Tommy was the first turtle she'd run across who cared what happened, as long as he was fed.

  "You poor little thing. I know this is hard for you. I don't know what to tell you. I can't look for a new home for you until this thing with Ferndelle's death is settled. I know it's hard for you to understand, but the police sort of feel like you're evidence."

  The turtle didn't understand what she was talking about. He missed Ferndelle and the large bowl with his rock. He didn't like the food jenny had sent up for him. He wanted to go back to his old life.

  Mary Catherine stroked his shell and sighed. She'd never make him understand what was going on. His little mind couldn't fathom the complexity that surrounded a human death. Even a dog or cat would have trouble with that, and they were very good at understanding what went on in the human world.

  She put him back in his tank and added a bowl that she hoped he would use as a rock. Jenny had told her how important rocks were to turtles, but so far every rock they'd tried to give him was rejected. She put him on top of the overturned bowl and encouraged him to use it. He stared back at her, telling her again how much he missed Ferndelle.

  She wished he had some other knowledge that would help them find Ferndelle's killer. The only thing he could actually recall was Charlene being present at the time. Since Colin swore she was with him all night, that seemed to be a dead end. Nothing he could tell her seemed to help the investigation.

  Now that Cousin Bob had been ruled off the suspect list by Detective Angellus, she was afraid they were back to Colin being the only one who could have murdered the old lady. He had motive (the family money being held up by Ferndelle) and no alibi for the time when she was killed (except for Charlene's word, and Tommy disputed that).

  Slowly and carefully, Mary Catherine put on a pale lavender ankle-length skirt with a matching blouse and jacket. She was a little liberal with her makeup and included pale lavender eye shadow since she knew that TV cameras would be at the taste test. She brushed out her naturally thick blond hair and topped it with a large lavender hat she'd bought at Macy's ten years before.

  Jenny brought Baylor upstairs as Mary Catherine was limping out of the bedroom to retrieve her purse. "You look pretty good for an old lady," the vet told her.

  "Thanks, I think. Not to split hairs, but I think you might be a few years too old to call me an old lady."

  Jenny laughed as she put Baylor on the carpet, her long, gray naturally curly hair fanning out around her. "I can call anybody whatever I like. That's how old I am."

  "Okay." Mary Catherine changed the subject. She didn't want to get into an argument with Jenny. "How's Baylor doing?"

  "He's fine. A little tense and I think he might have sprained his paw. But he'll be okay."

  "I think he's in better shape than I'm in." Mary Catherine took everything out of her white purse and put it into her matching lavender purse. "I might go see a chiropractor later."

  "Those quacks? You might as well roll yourself down the stairs. It would do you as much good."

  "You know, your people bedside manner could use some polishing."

  "I'm not here for people." Jenny opened the door to go back downstairs to the clinic. "And don't take Baylor out anymore with out getting him a proper pet seat so you can strap him in for the next time you decide to roll your car."

  Mary Catherine opened her mouth to say something scathing about jenny criticizing her driving when the vet never drove a car, but before she could formulate the words, jenny was gone. She looked at Baylor. "You certainly snowed her."

  Baylor ignored her, jumping up into his favorite chair and digging his claws into the red velvet. Mary Catherine took out her cell phone and tried to call Colin. There was still no answer. She called Danny to see if he was on his way back from the airport. She was going to have to find some way to get Bruno, Bubba, and Candy into the backseat of the taxi. Maybe it would be easier to simply admit, despite her beliefs to the contrary, that Meaty Boy dog food was all right for pets.

  But she knew that wouldn't do. She winced as she squared her shoulders, pushed her lavender hat a little farther down on her head, and painfully crept down the stairs.

  The Meaty Boy dog food plant was outside the downtown area, near the airport. It was a sturdy, red brick box with silos on one side to bring in the grain trucks that delivered on a regular basis. The green grass that fronted the plant was smooth and emeraldcolored, leading up to immaculate white fences that bordered the property.

  "This looks like something from an old TV show," Danny said as he pulled the taxi into the long, tree-lined driveway that led to the plant. "I didn't even know it was out here."

  Mary Catherine separated Bubba and Candy for the tenth time while Bruno snored in one corner of the backseat. It seemed Bubba wasn't bright enough to realize that Candy meant it when she said no. The little Pe
kinese wouldn't even look at the homely basset hound. She much preferred Bruno, who wasn't a bit interested.

  Of course, Bruno was neutered and Bubba wasn't. Mary Catherine tried to explain the difference to Candy, but the dog didn't care. She just wanted the basset hound to get away from her.

  "Thank goodness we're here." She told all the dogs to stay put as she and Danny got out of the car. She had leashes for Candy and Bruno, but Danny insisted Bubba would walk in with him. "I'm really glad I didn't bring Baylor."

  "Yeah," Danny agreed. "He would've been jealous of all the attention the dogs are getting. Does Meaty Boy make cat food?"

  "Not as far as I know. Maybe it's just as well with the way dogs complain about the dog food. Cats are much more particular about what they eat. Except for mice and bugs, but that's a whole other story that involves ritual and culture."

  "There you are!" Buck was with a large group of followers who greeted them from the doorway. "I see you brought your taste testers. Are any of them yours?"

  "Bruno is," she responded, "but only until we find a home for him. This is Danny Ruiz and his dog, Bubba. The St. Bernard is Bruno and the little one is Candy. She belongs to the vet at the clinic."

  Buck, who'd swept his Stetson from his head when he'd encountered her, placed the large hat back on his thick hair. "That reminds me. I have a check from Meaty Boy for your clinic because it does such fine work for the community."

  Mary Catherine grunted when Buck pulled her close to him as TV and newspaper media seemed to spring out of the very green grass that surrounded them.

  Buck held the check for two thousand dollars out in front of them and gave her a little squeeze. "I'm proud to present this money to you, Mary Catherine. Thank you for being here today."

  She wasn't sure what to say. He was giving money to the clinic, which surely entitled him to at least a thank you. On the other hand, he'd maneuvered this whole situation to get her off guard so she'd help make him look good. The man was in a class by himself as far as grandstanding was concerned.

  She realized everyone was looking at her, expecting some response. She smiled and held her side of the check as Buck presented it to her. "Thank you, Mr. Maybelle."

  He laughed. "My daddy was Mr. Maybelle, Miz Mary Catherine. I've never liked titles much. I hope you'll call me Buck."

  She agreed to call him by his first name and hoped that part of the ordeal would be over. He looked down at her and winked before giving her a final squeeze. Mary Catherine's heart beat a little faster for a moment. He was a very attractive, wealthy man.

  She knew Baylor would laugh at her for thinking that-another reason she was glad the cat wasn't there. It wasn't like she was planning on running off with the dog food king. She reminded herself that Buck stood for all that was bad as far as taking care of animals. By doing that, she was able to look at him from a less attractive perspective.

  "Now, we'll be moving to the taste evaluation room where we've had several of our employees bring their dogs to join in the Meaty Boy taste challenge." Buck was still hamming it up for the press, who were busy writing and recording every word he said as well as taking pictures every few seconds.

  "Are you going to talk to the animals to see which dog food they prefer?" One reporter stepped forward. "You're the pet psychic, right?"

  "I am Mary Catherine Roberts, the Pet Psychic on Lite 102.5." If Buck could play it up for the press, so could she. "I'll be monitoring what the dogs are saying about the food."

  A hundred questions came up at once as the reporters all rushed to understand how her "powers" worked. "Can you talk to every animal? What about whales?" one reporter asked.

  "I can't say I've ever had a conversation with a whale," she replied, "but I'm sure if they can think like we do, I could talk to one.

  "What about the turtle who saw Ferndelle Jamison's killer?"

  Mary Catherine recognized that voice but couldn't see the face of the man asking the question from the back of the group. "I can talk to him, but they don't see things like we do. It's not that easy."

  "Getting back to our Meaty Boy taste challenge." Buck steered the conversation back to him. "If you'll follow me, we should find out quickly who the winner is in this contest."

  He allowed Mary Catherine to go in the door before him, every inch the Southern gentleman. He blocked the door after her so that Danny had to come in with the reporters, Bubba trailing behind them all. Bruno yawned, wondering when they were going home and Candy strained at the leash Danny held, trying to get away from the crowd. She was a very nervous little dog; unlike most Pekinese Mary Catherine had known. Mostly they were small but extremely courageous.

  The taste test was set up in a spotless white room. It looked as though there would normally be a table in the middle of the room, but now the shiny white floor was empty except for six numbered spaces where Mary Catherine presumed dog food bowls would go.

  "I'll put my three challengers on this side," Buck told her. "You'll put your three over there. Each challenger will be served three different types of dog food. One of them will be my new and improved Meaty Boy Deluxe Dog Food. The other two will be top name brands. The winner will be the one the dogs prefer, according to what they tell you and how much they eat."

  Mary Catherine agreed to the rules and explained to her dogs what was expected of them. Buck's white-coated assistant brought in their three dogs: one collie, one Great Dane, and one German Shepherd. The dogs were placed at their particular eating stations and the first dog food bowls were brought out.

  "How do you know which is which?" a reporter asked Buck.

  "It's a blind taste test. We won't know until it's over." He smiled for the reporter and graciously allowed a photographer to take his picture.

  The dogs all put their heads into the bowls and tasted the food. Bruno was the first one to turn up his nose. He told Mary Catherine it tasted like bad meat and the other dogs soon followed his lead.

  "I guess that says it all" Danny shrugged and looked at Buck. "Next course, please."

  The second dog food was brought out. The dogs ate most of it, but told Mary Catherine they were hungry or they would've left it too. Candy wanted to know when they were bringing out the good stuff. This was worse than when she was living on the street stealing from trash cans.

  "They aren't crazy about this stuff either," Mary Catherine told everyone. She was having some trouble communicating with the three strange dogs. They were so busy thinking about being in a room with so many people that they had trouble focusing their thoughts.

  "We'll move on to the third and final dog food," Buck's assistant announced dramatically.

  They brought out the last variety and set the bowls in front of the dogs. Immediately, all six dogs buried their noses in the food and swallowed it as fast as they could. Candy said it was the best food she'd ever had, with visions of steak in her head. Bruno and Bubba agreed. They didn't know what it was but they wanted more of it. The other three dogs agreed. All of them looked up when they'd finished and whined for more.

  "I'd say the third brand is the winner." Buck smiled at Mary Catherine. "What did the dogs tell you?"

  At that moment, the three strange dogs were telling her they had been brought from the pound, shampooed, and set here for the taste test. They all expected to be returned to the pound and die within the next few days. They'd all seen it happen before. This was like some dream of a home for them. They wished it would go on and were fearful it was coming to an end too quickly.

  The fear and anguish in their minds almost took her breath away. That any creature should feel that way broke her heart. She knew she couldn't take every dog and cat from the pound. She'd done that before and ended up with an unmanageable situation. But she could help these three even though she didn't want to think what jenny would say when she came back with them.

  She looked up, disturbed and tearful. Everyone was staring at her. With an effort, she brought herself back to the human world and realized everyone
was waiting for her answer. Buck's three dogs had no preference; they were too worried about dying. Bubba, Bruno and Candy, all orphans from the street but no longer afraid of what was going to happen to them, related that the third variety was definitely the best.

  Mary Catherine told Buck and the reporters what her dogs said. Buck's smile was huge. She knew the last brand was Meaty Boy even though it was supposed to be a blind taste test.

  Buck ripped the front panels covering the labels on the dog food bags. The third brand was Meaty Boy. "I guess you'll be doing commercials for me now, my little psychic angel."

  Hi, Mary Catherine!

  This is Dawn from Delaware. I have a hurt seagull I've been taking care of for two months. He can't fly. I'm beginning to worry he may never fly again and he won't be able to survive on his own.

  What should I do?

  TWELVE

  "So MEATY Boy WON?" Jenny put down her habitual cup of coffee and stared at her dog. "Candy ate Meaty Boy? We've tried it before. She's always hated it."

  Danny shrugged. "Maybe it's the new and improved part. Bubba hated it too. But not today. Even Bruno wolfed it down. You know how finicky he is."

  "I think there may be something more involved," Mary Catherine told them. She took out a handful of dog food from her pocket. "Maybe we could run some tests on this and see what it was the dogs liked so much."

  "Do I look like a research scientist?" Jenny stared at her as she put Candy on the floor. "It's all I can do to keep up with this place. I wouldn't know one kind of dog food from another."

  "Maybe you know someone who could do the work," Mary Catherine suggested. "The dogs have been asking for it constantly since we left the Meaty Boy plant. When have you ever known of dogs who were well fed thinking about the food they just ate? They're always thinking about the next meal."