A Woof of Murder (Pet Shop Cozy Mysteries Book 8)

by Susie Gayle

  “Savage and Stein’s projects,” I say quietly.

  “My projects, really. Some of them, anyway.”

  “People are angry. Sometimes they lash out.”

  “Yeah, well, at least three families that I know of are making good on their word; packing up and moving out of town.” He sighs. “What a mess.”

  “I know.”

  The door opens again, and this time Karen enters, clutching a huge cup from Better Latte Than Never.

  “Morning,” I greet her halfheartedly.

  “Ugh,” she replies, apparently not having gotten much more sleep than we did. “Okay, I’m here. What are we doing?” She looks around. “And where’s Sarah?”

  “She’s picking up her mom from the hotel,” I explain. “She’ll have her hands full, so we’ll have to do this between the three of us. Here’s what I’m thinking: Karen, you should talk to the reporter. Pretend you’re a concerned citizen and you want to know if she knows more to the story. Sammy, you talk to Birnbaum. He’ll likely be up at Dalton Manor. I’ll go see Ham Dobes and smooth that over as best I can.”

  “I really don’t like that guy,” Sammy grumbles.

  “Yeah, and what am I supposed to say to this reporter?” Karen argues. “You really think she’s just going to give me her scoop?”

  “Fine, then Sammy, you talk to Beverly Quigley. It might be more believable coming from a local business owner. I’ll talk to Birnbaum—”

  “And I’ll talk to the kid,” Karen says. She pounds one of her tiny fists against the flat of her other palm.

  “No, Karen. Jeez. I can’t believe I have to say this out loud, but we’re not beating anyone up.”

  “I was just going to threaten him,” she mutters.

  “No threatening, either. This is a fact-finding mission, okay?” I sigh. “Look, I’ll talk to Birnbaum and Ham. Sammy, talk to the reporter.”

  “What do I do?” Karen asks.

  “Go to work.” Nothing personal against her, but she has a tendency to be somewhat brash.

  “Fine. But you guys better keep me in the loop!”

  “We’ll meet back here at lunchtime. Let’s say one o’clock,” I tell them.

  They agree and leave, and I set about the rest of my shop-keeping duties. All the while I consider what I’m going to say to Sarah’s mother when she arrives. Or Ham Dobes. Or Ezekiel Birnbaum. And worse than having no idea is having even less of an idea what we’re going to be able to do with the information, if there’s information to be had.

  About twenty minutes later, Sarah enters the shop with Dennis and her mother behind her.

  “Hey, good morning.” I greet them with a smile. Melinda blatantly avoids eye contact with me. “Listen, Melinda, I feel like I should apologize…”

  She turns to her two kids. “Do you think I could talk to Will alone for a moment?” she asks quietly. Hey, how about that. She called me Will.

  “Uh, sure,” Sarah agrees. “Come on, Dennis. Let’s get a coffee.”

  Once they’re out the door, I restart my apology. “Melinda, I’m sorry about what I said. I shouldn’t have been so harsh.”

  She turns to me sharply. “I’m not interested in your apology, nor do I care what you think of me.”

  “Uh… what?”

  “I’ve given it a lot of thought,” she continues, “and I’m prepared to make you an offer.”

  “An offer? What?”

  She looks me right in the eye and says, “I want you to break off your relationship with my daughter.”

  I blink a few times. “What?” I repeat for the third time. “That’s not an offer. That’s a demand. And a crazy one, at that.”

  “I understand how you might view it that way,” she says, “so let me elucidate. If you don’t, I’ll do everything in my power to ruin you.”

  “How? Why? What?” I’m so thoroughly blindsided by her threat that the only words that seem to come to mind are monosyllabic questions.

  She shrugs one shoulder. “Anything could happen. An older woman like myself could perhaps slip and fall on your premises. Or one of your unruly animals might bite. I’m here for another day and a half; that’s a lot of opportunity. All this,” she gestures around the shop, “your livelihood, your animals, will be gone.”

  “Why would you do that?”

  “Because I want Sarah to move back to Scarborough with me and get out of this horrible town.”

  “Seaview Rock is not a horrible town.”

  “Oh?” She arches one eyebrow. “I follow the news. I know about the murders and the corruption. This is obviously an unsafe place, and I don’t like Sarah living here.”

  My confusion finally starts to give way to anger. “I’ll tell her you threatened me.”

  “Go ahead. She won’t believe you.”

  “…Because she thinks you’re sensitive.” I scoff. “Is that all just an act? So your kids don’t freak out or abandon you like your husband did?”

  Her jaw drops. “How dare you—”

  “No, how dare you? You’re a lunatic!” I practically shout.

  “I’m not a lunatic. I’m a mother. And regardless of what you might think, I care deeply for the wellbeing of my children.”

  The two of us stare at each other for a long moment. Then… I can’t help it. I grin. The grin becomes a snort, and then I’m laughing out loud, right in her face.

  “What could you possibly find funny about this?” she insists.

  “What’s funny is you think you’ve got an upper hand on me. But the joke’s on you, Melinda, because your little ultimatum here isn’t even my biggest problem right now. And frankly, I don’t have time for you.” I brush past her and head for the door. “Come on, Rowdy.” My dog jumps up from his doggie bed behind the counter and bounds after me.

  “Your shop, or Sarah,” she calls after me. “I’ll expect your answer by this afternoon, Will.”

  I turn and glare at her. “It’s Mr. Sullivan, to you.”

  CHAPTER 15

  * * *

  “The nerve of that woman!” I complain to Rowdy as I drive toward Miller’s. “Sarah’s been right all along. She is a monster.” Behind me, Rowdy groans a little in agreement.

  In hindsight, I realize I probably shouldn’t have just left her alone in my shop. I also should’ve told Sarah where I was going, but in the heat of the moment all I wanted to do was get out of there. “I need to relax,” I tell myself. “This is no way to go into this thing.” As I pull up in front of Miller’s, I take a few deep breaths to calm myself.

  It doesn’t work. I’m still angry.

  I don’t find Ham Dobes in the grocery store, so I check in with the customer service desk and ask about him. The young woman there tells me that he called in sick today.

  “Great,” I mutter. “Thanks.”

  Back in the car, I grip the steering wheel tightly with both hands while I think. This was supposed to go very differently. The scheme was supposed to be over; the secret was supposed to be safe. Sarah’s mom was supposed to be a little odd, but not crazy.

  “Focus, Will,” I scold myself.

  I could visit Ham at home; I know where he lives on account of having been there a couple times before. I don’t believe for a second that he’s actually sick, but I guess there is actually the chance. Ultimately I decide to go see Birnbaum first, since he’s closer anyway, and I head toward the coast.

  Dalton Manor is a huge Victorian mansion built on a small bluff overlooking the ocean, about a quarter-mile from the Goose Point lighthouse. It used to house the Dalton family, who opened one of the first big hatcheries and helped transform Seaview Rock into what it is today. Over time, the manor became a tourist attraction, and these days, it’s home to a museum, tea room, an art gallery, and a gift shop (as well as being the most popular place in Seaview Rock to hold weddings). And it’s owned and operated by the last surviving relative of the Daltons, Ezekiel Birnbaum.

  I h
ead up the lengthy driveway leading to the manor and I see a silver convertible parked, evidence that Birnbaum is here. There aren’t any other cars present; last month, an arsonist set fire to the art gallery inside the manor and caused significant damage (and the death of one of our town councilmen) and it hasn’t reopened yet.

  I park my SUV behind Birnbaum’s car, but before I can get out, my cell phone rings. I expect it to be Sarah calling, but it’s not.

  “Hey Sammy, what’s up? Did you talk to the reporter?”

  “Not yet,” Sammy says. “Listen, Will, I just pulled up to the Seaview Rock Gazette office, and you’ll never believe who I saw coming out.” Before I can actually guess, he tells me: “Hammond Dobes.”

  “Oh, no.” So much for our deal.

  “I’m going to follow him,” he tells me.

  “Fine, but don’t approach him. If he talked to the reporter he won’t want to talk to you. The kid’s skittish. Just follow him, and I’ll be there when I can.”

  I hang up and consider leaving right then and there to back Sammy up, but then I notice that Ezekiel Birnbaum is standing on the porch of the manor house, his hands on his hips and his eyes squinting toward me. He wears paint-spattered overalls, a far cry from the pressed shirts and slacks I’m used to seeing him in.

  It would look way too odd to just leave, so I get out of the car and force a broad smile. “Hi, Mr. Birnbaum. Do you remember me?”

  He looks me up and down. “Will, right? The pet shop guy?”

  “That’s right. Uh, sorry to intrude like this, but… I was at the town council meeting last night, and I heard all the things you said. I just wanted to ask you a couple of questions.”

  Birnbaum stares me down for a moment. Then he gruffly says, “Sure,” and gestures with his head toward the manor house, so I follow him inside.

  The foyer of the house is, or was, magnificent—high ceilings, dark oak wood, a huge ornate chandelier and fancy art on the walls. Now plastic tarps have been laid out on the floor and draped over the fixtures. I can still see the black stains from the smoke damage, and the whole place smells like a mixture of firewood and fresh paint.

  “Looks like it’s… coming along,” I remark, in an effort to be pleasant.

  Birnbaum scoffs. “It’s coming along, alright, very slowly.” He shakes his head. “This manor was declared a historic site, so the town should’ve paid for a good percentage of the repairs. But…” He trails off.

  I understand right away what he’s saying. Whatever money was supposed to go into restoring the manor was probably siphoned away by Savage and Stein.

  “I’ve been doing what I can myself,” he continues. “Paying for the rest out of pocket. At this rate, it’ll be another year until we can reopen.”

  “Sorry to hear that.” I try to sound sincere. “That’s sort of why I came to see you. Last night, you mentioned another party involved, possibly blackmailing the council members. That’s a pretty scary thought. I mean, they’re still out there somewhere, right?”

  He nods gravely. “That’s correct.”

  “How do we know they won’t try it again?”

  He shrugs. “I suppose we don’t, at least not until they’re brought to justice.”

  “Yeah. Do you… do you know who it is?”

  Ezekiel Birnbaum looks me right in the eye and says, “I do.”

  CHAPTER 16

  * * *

  “Or at least I have my suspicions,” he tells me, looking away. “I couldn’t say for sure. Why, do you know?” He arches an eyebrow.

  “No, no idea.” I clear my throat and press him further. “But… if you have suspicions, don’t you think you have an obligation to the town to say something?”

  “No, I don’t,” he says simply. “I’m not law enforcement. Anything I contribute that doesn’t have solid evidence behind it is merely conjecture.”

  “That’s a good point,” I admit, even though it’s really not. If Birnbaum thinks he knows who it is, why wouldn’t he say something to Patty Mayhew? Even if it’s just conjecture, I need to push him into talking, hit a pain point—and I think I know what could do it.

  “It just seems to me,” I say, trying to sound casual, “that if you really cared about this town, you’d want this matter resolved quickly.”

  Birnbaum narrows his eyes angrily and sticks a finger in my face. “No one cares more about Seaview Rock than I do. My family practically started this town—”

  I roll my eyes dramatically. “I guess that’s true, even though it wasn’t really your family. You’re, what, the stepson from a second marriage of the last Dalton?”

  Birnbaum’s lip twitches in a snarl. “Who do you think you are?” he asks threateningly. “Fifty-six years I’ve lived here. I’ve served three terms on the council. If I have my way, I’ll be mayor someday. Don’t come in here and tell me I don’t have this town’s best interests in mind. By god, do you have any idea how long it took me just to go over those books?” His voice rises to a shout. “Almost two months! You can’t imagine the breadcrumb trail she left behind. Funds allocated from one source to another, making it look like we were overspending in every other area… It was clever. But I figured it out. It all leads back to the same place!”

  His face red, he turns away from me in a huff. “Get out.”

  I stand there for a long moment, thinking.

  Maybe I didn’t get him to say who he suspects was blackmailing Savage and Stein. Even so, I think he said too much.

  “You’ve known for weeks?” I ask him.

  “I said get out!”

  “And you didn’t say anything?”

  “I will call the police, Mr. Sullivan.”

  Pieces of my conversation with Tom Savage in his holding cell float back to memory.

  …We wouldn’t have anything to gain from it.

  Well, if we knew who did, I wouldn’t be sitting here right now, would I?

  Birnbaum pulls his cell phone from the pocket of his overalls. “I’m calling…”

  “Go ahead,” I challenge. “And while you’re at it, be sure to tell them why you killed Rachel Stein.”

  He slowly lowers the cell phone to waist level, staring at me. “And what makes you say that?” he asks cautiously.

  “You had your suspicions that something was going on within the council from before the fire, but it wouldn’t have been until afterwards, when you petitioned the town to cover a portion of the damages, that you would have noticed anything amiss with the bookkeeping,” I explain. “The fire was less than a month ago. So the only reason you would have started digging for discrepancies before then is if you already knew something.”

  He slips his phone back into his pocket and regards me placidly. “Go on.”

  I frown, taken aback by his cavalier attitude. “But… but even though you figured it out, you didn’t immediately bring it to anyone’s attention. You caught them in a crime, but you didn’t say anything at first.”

  “Why not?” he asks, his eyes gleaming.

  “Because… you realized that they were being blackmailed.”

  He nods slowly.

  “And by planning Stein’s death and pinning it on Tom Savage… you’d be forcing a snap election, leaving you as the only trustworthy council member left.” I practically groan out loud. “That’s why you made a big public spectacle out of it. To look like the big hero that exposed the corruption.”

  “I must say, Mr. Sullivan, you’re quite good at this,” he says with a fierce grin. “There’s only one small piece that you’re missing.”

  I’m not missing it. I just don’t want to say it aloud. “You,” I gulp, “you know who was blackmailing them.”

  “Yes,” he says in a soft hiss. “I know all about it. See, I followed Savage and Stein—that’s how I knew Rachel would be at that intersection yesterday at twelve-fifteen. She went to the same place for lunch every day at the same time.”

  Oh. That explains why Mr. Casey hear
d the brakes squeal just before the car hit her. Birnbaum didn’t have a change of heart; he was making sure that she was in the road, directly in his path.

  “And while I was following them, I found something very interesting. Seems a bit odd that those two would have so many meetings with the town’s barber, right? Or a loan officer. Or a pet shop owner.”

  “Birnbaum, you’ve got it all wrong,” I tell him. “You don’t know—”

  “Oh?” he asks. “I don’t know? Seems I’ve done pretty well so far. See, you know my secret now, but you have no proof. I know your secret… and you’ll just have to wonder if I have proof or not.”

  “What do you want from us?” I ask in a hoarse whisper.

  “I’m glad you asked. First, I want Tom Savage to take the fall for killing Stein. Then I want you to help me find a patsy to pin the blackmail on. We need to bring someone to justice, but of course it can’t be any of you; you all know too much and you’d bring me down with you. Besides, I’m not interested in seeing any of our finer citizens take the blame.”

  “Finer…? What are you talking about?”

  Birnbaum spreads his hands, palms up. “Don’t you see, Sullivan? We’re cut from the same cloth. We’ve both done stupid, dangerous things with our town’s best interests at heart. Granted, the group of you went about it in something of a damaging way, but from what I can tell that was mostly Stein’s fault, really.”

  “I’m not… we’re not… no. We’re not killers.”

  “We both know she had to go,” Birnbaum says. “Tell me I’m wrong.”

  “You’re wrong.”

  He scoffs. “Fine. Go home, Will, and give it some thought. I think you’ll come to see things my way. Just know that if you try to tell anyone about this, it’s going to be over for you and your friends.”

  CHAPTER 17

  * * *

  I sit in my car for a long time in stunned silence. Rowdy climbs up between the seats and sits beside me, licking my hand, but I barely notice him.