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Fear on Four Paws

Page 14

by Clea Simon


  I didn’t argue with this, and if Wallis read any disagreement in my silent thoughts, she let it be. Instead, she worked on finishing the fish, licking the dish clean before proceeding to wash her whiskers until they glistened.

  I ate my own meal, washing it down with a beer from the fridge, as various thoughts rumbled through my mind. I hadn’t tried to call Albert back, partly because I wasn’t sure Creighton or Kayla or whoever answered the main line would put me through. Partly, because I didn’t know what to say. Should he get himself an attorney? Of course, but I’d already told him that and been ignored. What he wanted was for me to fix it, I suspected, either through my connection to Creighton or simply because I was a woman, and thus the magical mommy archetype that men like him were always seeking.

  That didn’t help me figure out what role I wanted to play, though. Did I even want to insert myself into his particular mess? Did I care that with every misstep Albert was apparently digging himself in deeper? And what had the usually laidback town official so scared he wouldn’t talk, even if it meant his liberty? These were questions that I still hadn’t answered when Wallis looked up at me, licking her chops, before jumping down to the floor. I realized then as she made her way, tail high, to the door, that she knew the conversation would be continuing. The gravel of my driveway rattled under Jim Creighton’s wheels.

  Chapter Twenty-three

  We have a pattern, Creighton and me. We don’t talk, or not much. And when we do, we keep it light. I don’t mean to say we don’t care for each other. That wouldn’t be accurate, not after this long, not considering some of the adventures we have shared. I mean, sure, there’s a physical connection, but that’s not all. It’s more like we respect each other’s privacy—a deal-breaker for me.

  So it must have surprised my blue-eyed boy when, for the second time in a week, I began grilling him. We were lying in bed, sated by then, and Wallis, with her usual disregard for human modesty, had joined us.

  “What’s up with Albert?” I saw no point in beating around the bush. Besides, Creighton was drifting toward sleep. My window of opportunity was closing.

  “You’re thinking of Albert?” He flipped on his side and reached for me, a drowsy grin on his face, and nuzzled my neck. “Is it the beard?”

  “No.” I pushed him away, so I could look him in the eyes. “I’m serious, Jim.”

  His brows went up but he showed no signs of wanting to talk. At our feet, Wallis began to wash quite noisily. “Real smart.” Her comment had me reaching for an imaginary hair between my teeth. “What? At least I know how to take care of myself.”

  “What you said the other night—you were right. I’m worried about him.” I propped myself up on one arm. I doubt Wallis had meant it that way, but her comment gave me my in. “That’s why I’ve been pushing. He called me. He’s scared.”

  The surprise on his face registered as real this time. I thought it was at my confession, until he started to speak. “Funny, he didn’t want a phone call when we offered,” he said, though he might have been covering. “I thought he was embarrassed in front of the guys. But, Pru, you know what he’s got to do.”

  “I do.” I sighed, falling back. Creighton meant Albert had to talk. I thought he should too—to a lawyer. And despite my confession, I still wasn’t sure why I was getting involved exactly, except that I knew Albert hadn’t been alone. “He’s just kind of lost.”

  A grunt, and I pulled myself back up. “Come on, Jim. You know it, too. And I don’t know what you’re playing at by keeping him locked up. He thinks you’re going to charge him. Or—I don’t know—hold him indefinitely.”

  A storm must have started someplace up in the mountains, because suddenly the room grew chilly. Even as he continued to stare at me, those blue eyes inches from my own, I felt the wall of ice descending. Creighton was freezing me out.

  “Jim.” I didn’t want our encounter to end like this—not again. I also thought I could still get something out of him. Old habits die hard. “He asked for my help, okay? I told him to get a lawyer, but you know Albert. He’s...” I broke off, unsure how to describe the oblivious mess of a man. “Clueless,” I said at last.

  “Complicit is the word I would choose.” His tone was as cold as his eyes. “Pru, there’s a lot going on that you don’t understand. That I don’t either, come to think of it, but I’m trying. A man was killed, Pru. And I know you didn’t think much of Paul Lanouette or his friends, but he was a human being.”

  Before I could protest, he was pushing the covers back and reaching for his jeans. “I get that you’re loyal. That you work with the man. But this time, Pru, you’ve got to trust me. Just accept that your—ah—understanding of some of the animals out there only goes so far.”

  With his back toward me, it was hard to tell if he was talking about Albert or about himself. “Pru.” He was buttoning his shirt. I could see his face in the mirror, but in the dark, his features were shadowed. “I don’t ask you about how you do what you do. Do me the same courtesy, all right?”

  My mouth had gone dry, and besides, I had no words, the memory of what he’d told me about Paul rushing back to my mind. Still it was a relief when my beau bent over and kissed me before leaving. “Early morning,” he said, as if that explained everything. Even before I heard the front door close, Wallis had risen and taken his place on the pillow beside mine, where she resumed her evening toilette.

  “Good work.” She slurped out the words, as she tamped down her white belly fur with a zealous tongue. “If I didn’t think you really took what that creature said seriously.”

  “Albert?” I watched as she extended one leg for inspection. “Or, no, do you mean Frank?”

  “Clueless.” Working with her teeth as well as her tongue, she set to work on the curved claws of her left hind paw. “Don’t know why I bother...”

  I was missing something, at least Wallis thought so. She and I have lived together long enough for me to read her innuendo. But whether I really had overlooked information or she just decided to lord it over me that I’d sent my bed partner off out of concern for a bearded lout and his pet ferret, I couldn’t tell. Besides, even as she concentrated on that paw, I needed to figure out what I’d just learned.

  Creighton had wanted to freeze me out but he was too nice a guy—and I knew him too well. Looking back not only on what he’d said but how he’d said it, I could see that he’d decided to trust me—at least with a few confidences. Namely that he was trying to configure a larger scheme, one in which Paul Lanouette had been a player. And that whether my beau was going to charge Albert with his role in it eventually or not, he hadn’t yet—and, boy scout that he was, he’d released the animal control officer to the wild. It had taken me a moment, but what’d he’d told me about Albert turning down the chance to make a call while in custody revealed that. Finally, in everything he’d said—and also in what he’d refused to say—my straight-shooter of a boyfriend had clued me in on another secret, letting me know that he had definitely sussed out more about me and my special sensitivity than I had previously been willing to admit.

  Chapter Twenty-four

  Wallis was snoring in the morning when I awoke, and it was a relief not to have to explain myself as I slipped out of the house and headed across town. If Albert was indeed out, I wanted to see him. Plus, I had questions for Frank. The ferret had been avoiding me, and I needed to know why.

  “Wake up.” I pounded on the door of Albert’s apartment, my mood not improved by the bad takeout coffee I’d fetched from the gas station. “Come on, Albert. Open up.”

  “Hang on.” The bleary mess who opened the door didn’t inspire confidence. He had donned a robe, thank God, but neglected to tie it and the stains and tears on the t-shirt and boxers beneath did not bear close examination. I shoved one of the insulated cups into his hand and pushed my way into the room.

  “Hoo boy.” I reached for the shade, partl
y to let some light in but also so I could open the window. The room was close and smelled musty. And no, I did not think the ferret was to blame. “This isn’t healthy.”

  Albert stood there blinking in his bathrobe, and I saw my chance. “Get dressed,” I told him. “We’ve got to talk. In the meantime...” I looked around and saw the familiar masked face peeking up at me. The ferret knew my words were primarily for him, and I held out my hand. I couldn’t resist a smile as the limber creature scurried up my arm to nestle around my neck. Maybe I had missed the cuddling last night, after all.

  “Frank and I will wait outside,” I said to the man who stood blinking in the light as I took the ferret, my own coffee, and a number of unanswered questions out to the street.

  “Sweet?” I’d walked back to my car, the better to have a little distance from Albert’s beastly lair. Our animal control officer is far from the brightest bulb in the closet, but I didn’t want to risk anyone asking about why I was conversing with a non-human creature. Frank had scampered down my arm and was sniffing at the insulated cup. At least, that was what I think he was getting at, as his wet leather nose moved around the lid.

  “No, I take it black,” I said. “But Frank, we’ve got to talk.”

  The sinewy mustelid didn’t answer, but I could tell from the way he had raised his head that he was listening.

  “I’m on your side,” I was pushing. “You should know that. But—you were hiding Albert’s keys, weren’t you?”

  “Sweet, juicy.” He clambered around to where I leaned on the GTO, his claws finding no purchase on my car’s flawless finish. “Shiny. Open up.”

  “Frank.” This was exasperating. I wasn’t sure how to proceed. Animals don’t lie, per se. That doesn’t mean they are all forthcoming. Smaller animals, for example, are great at misdirection. You ever see a bird fake a broken wing to lure a predator away from her nest? But this act—

  “Frank, is he feeding you?” It hit me, maybe the ferret really was searching for food.

  “I get what I need.” The answer came immediately, along with an image of a fat grub that, frankly, put me off breakfast. “Shiny.”

  I sighed. If the lithe beast didn’t confide in me, I didn’t know how to proceed. “Frank, you probably didn’t mean to, but you may have made things worse. Creighton thinks Albert hid his keys—that he didn’t want anyone to find the body in the shed.” Even as I said it, I realized what a boneheaded move it would be. And perfectly in keeping with Albert’s usual behavior.

  “But that was you, wasn’t it?” It also occurred to me that perhaps Frank had intentionally sabotaged the man who, after all, was not the most conscientious caregiver.

  “Hungry!” The retort came so swiftly I drew my arm back from where the ferret stood, alert, thinking I’d been bitten. He dropped back onto all fours, and began sniffling around the hood of my car, clearly distressed.

  “You were hungry?”

  “No, he’s the one. The one wanting.”

  “Yes, he is that.” I was still confused, but I was also touched. Clearly, the ferret had feelings for the fat slovenly man. “But he gets what he needs.”

  “Not the box!” This time the response was physical. He was up on all fours, his back arching like a cat’s. “Can’t let him!”

  I paused, unsure of what I was missing. “I know you don’t want Albert to go to jail, Frank. But you’re not helping him—”

  “He wants the shiny.” The ferret was agitated now, jumping from paw to paw. “He doesn’t see the beast!”

  “Wait, what beast?” I know Wallis thinks I’m slow-witted but usually I can keep up. “The beast in the box?”

  “We’re getting something to eat?” I spun around and saw Albert, dressed now in his customary flannel and jeans. How long he’d been standing there, I didn’t know.

  “I was talking to Frank.” The best defense is a good offense, but a cold trickle of sweat rolled down my spine. “Animals respond to our voices, you know. ”

  “Huh,” Albert grunted as he waddled over to the side door, a torn knapsack in his hands. “Creighton still has my truck.”

  “You don’t have an extra set of keys?” I nodded up at the apartment.

  “I don’t—I mean, this place is safe.”

  I didn’t respond. Truth was, I doubted security was Albert’s main concern. Besides, I had more pressing questions. I tried to make eye contact with Frank one last time as his person sidled awkwardly into my car and dropped the knapsack at his feet. The ferret had settled down by then, but the black eyes that met my own were opaque, the thoughts silent. However, when I opened my own door, he scurried inside, curling in Albert’s lap like he owned the man.

  Maybe he did. I might not understand what the supple little creature had been trying to say to me. I did get that he was as protective of Albert as any one of us would be of a beloved pet. And that meant that if I was going to help Frank, I needed to try once more with Albert.

  “You going to tell me what’s going on?”

  Albert squirmed, as much from the ice in my voice as the acceleration as I put my baby-blue baby into gear and peeled out.

  “Me?” His voice squeaked as he was thrust back into his seat. But if he thought he was going to flip my question, he didn’t know me. Or, for that matter, the ferret, who dug his little claws into Albert’s thigh. “Ow.”

  “You’re making your ferret nervous.” It was true. And my saying it also unsettled him, which was to my advantage. “Talk, Albert.”

  He shifted again in his seat and played with his beard. “Jim wanted me to talk to him, you know. But, I was thinking…”

  “Don’t think, Albert. You’re not good at it.” Silence. I corrected my course. Breakfast was out of the question until I was served some truth. “Albert?” I waited until he turned toward me. “Just because Creighton let you go doesn’t mean this is over. I don’t know if Creighton is preparing a warrant for your arrest or if the staties want to talk to you or what. I do know that you know more about what happened out there than you’re telling him—or me, for that matter.”

  “I told you.” He was trying for aggrieved and ended up sounding simply sulky. “I got a nuisance call about a bear.”

  “You did not.” I wasn’t having any of this, and my window of opportunity was closing. “Even assuming that you didn’t log the call, which would be a dereliction of duty…” Another squirm. “…there’s no way that a bear out in the conservation land was bothering anybody. If anything, people would be bothering him.

  “And besides, what about Paul? Are you going to deny that Paul was there with you, when you trapped that bear?”

  “What? No.” He shook his head, and I got a quick flash of how Frank saw it. How tempting it was to reach up and grab at that cascade of dirty fur. “I mean, I don’t know anything about that.”

  “Uh huh.” I’d known, of course, from the bear’s vision. But Albert had just confirmed that at least he was aware of the presence of his late friend. “You guys weren’t hanging around, drinking?”

  “Well, maybe a little.”

  I didn’t want to speculate on how much that might be. “Who was with you?” Silence. Frank had settled back down, but whatever he was thinking he was keeping from me. “I mean, besides Ronnie?”

  “Yeah, Ronnie.” I waited. “Me and Ronnie and—and Paul.”

  “And?” I was trying to prime this pump to flow on its own, but I was almost at the center of town and I’m congenitally incapable of driving slowly. “Was Larry Greeley with you?”

  “What? No.” A bit too fast, I thought. Creighton had downplayed Greeley’s involvement, and Creighton is a good cop. But that didn’t mean that Greeley had an alibi—only that Creighton hadn’t fully interrogated him yet. And Creighton hadn’t seen Greeley lurking around the moneyed side of town, like I had. I wasn’t sure what the tall man with the ugly teeth was
up to, but I knew it was to no good.

  “No Larry?” I was a block from our destination.

  Albert snorted. “He wishes.”

  I stopped at that—hitting the brakes with a squeal that nearly threw Albert out of his seat—and turned to him. “Because one of your friends ended up dead?” Sometimes, I swear, the man amazed me.

  “No, I didn’t— that wasn’t what I meant.” He sounded so flustered, I kind of believed him. At any rate, I started to drive again. “I still can’t believe that’s true, Pru. I mean, Paul was—we were just hanging out.”

  “Ah huh.” I was sure that was how it started. “And drinking and then?”

  “And then I must’ve passed out. Honest, Pru. I don’t know what happened.”

  “So you passed out, and Ronnie and Paul were still there.” I figured Creighton had to know this much.

  “No,” Albert was shaking his head again. “I think Ronnie had taken off by then.”

  “Not Paul?”

  He shrugged. If he were a turtle, he would have tucked his head inside his shell. “Paul was—you know, Paul.” I did, but I wasn’t letting Albert off the hook. “He had a plan,” he said at last. “You know, one of his—deals.”

  “Deals?”

  Another nod, another shrug. “To get some dough.”

  “With the bear?”

  Albert frowned, as if confused.

  “Not with the bear?”

  I thought of Frank’s agitation—all his worry about “the beast.”

  “I don’t know. Honest.” When someone says that, I know he’s lying. “But, I don’t think so. I think it was—” He broke off as we passed Beauville’s lone bus station. “Pru, do you think—?”

 

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