A Dog-Gone Christmas

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A Dog-Gone Christmas Page 2

by Leslie O'Kane


  “I need to replay this,” Delia said. We watched two more times, and then Officer Grump took Eddie’s phone to watch it himself.

  By then, the police had finished taking Stacy’s—Delia’s assistant’s—statement. Stacy walked up to Delia and whispered, “The body guard must have nabbed Bella. Remember? He took the dog’s case from me. He probably stashed the counterfeit dog under his jacket. Then he switched dogs while we were putting our shoes and coats back on.”

  “He could have gotten the phony TSA agent’s help to hide your actual carrier into the duffel bag and send it through another X-ray line,” I theorized.

  Delia shook her head, clearly avoiding her assistant’s eyes. “But I’m positive it was Bella I was holding when I went through the metal detector.”

  “I think you must be mistaken,” Stacy said. “I think—”

  “Get Tom and Mario,” Delia interrupted. “I want the three of you to get the names and numbers of each and every person with photos and videos of me and my Louis V.”

  Stacy looked crestfallen, but dutifully headed toward her male companions.

  A pair of officers were conferring with someone over the radio, and one approached Delia, who was watching him with hopeful eyes. “We’re questioning a TSA agent with dog fur on his sleeves. This could be a significant lead.”

  Delia merely nodded, her expression downhearted. My own spirits, however, were lifted simply by holding Not-Bella, whom I could tell had fallen asleep under my cardigan.

  I was just about to offer Not-Bella to Delia, to help calm her stress, when I realized something and, instead, strode over to my mother. Mom was now seated nearby, having collected our belongings. “Mom, we need to approach this from a different angle, namely: Where did Bella’s impostor come from?”

  “Good idea. How should I check into that?”

  I pointed with my chin at her laptop carrier. Look on Craigslist. See if anyone in the Denver region has sold this dog in the past few days. If there’s no listing, search on: ‘Denver Chihuahuas for sale.’”

  Mom promptly got to work on her computer. I turned and scanned the area for Delia, but caught Stacy looking at me with mournful eyes. Meanwhile Eddie had gotten his phone back from the officer and was chatting with Delia, while showing her something on his phone. His body English was saying that he was trying hard to impress her.

  I introduced myself to Stacy, then asked, “Who put the outfit on Bella?”

  “I did. Before we left the hotel for the airport. According to Delia’s instructions.”

  “Does Bella have other Christmassy outfits?”

  “Yes, but this is the only one she’s worn on this tour.”

  “Are you certain that Bella’s cape had an authentic emerald?”

  “One-hundred percent certain. About everything. It’s Delia who’s confused. I did have the carrier from the time we left the limo until we got off the train at Terminal B. But when we got to security, I was surprised when Mario, the body guard, took the carrier from me and put it on the conveyor belt. I was…offended.”

  “Why?”

  She hesitated and exchanged glances with Tom.

  “It’s personal,” she said. “All I can say is, there was a lot of unnecessary confusion as we tried to get through the security screening. None of us was keeping a close eye on our belongings right then.”

  What I knew about Delia’s personal life was that she had as much of a penchant for dramatic breakups with boyfriends as I had for finding canine clients that got me involved in dramatic criminal investigations. “I’ll talk to her and see if she realizes she could have made a mistake.”

  Not-Bella had poked her way out of my sweater. We both looked down at her. “All I’m saying,” Stacy went on, “is that the Christmas collar covers up the section of fur that’s the most different from Delia’s, when you’re looking down at her.”

  I nodded, thanked her, and headed toward Delia. Eddie stopped his conversation mid-sentence.

  “My mother’s checking into some things online for me, Delia. Isn’t there a reasonable chance that you didn’t notice the difference when you got this dog out of her Louis V carrier?”

  “I would have noticed!”

  “But you were upset and arguing with Tom the entire time you were handling Bella. The shawl covers her shoulders, where most of the coloration differences in her coat would have been hidden.”

  “That’s true. Come to think of it, my eyes were getting kind of teary. So I couldn’t see—” Delia froze and her eyes widened. She clenched her jaw, whipped her head around, and started marching toward Tom. “Did you do this to me, Tom? Did you keep me distracted deliberately so you could steal my precious dog?”

  Tom stepped back, his jaw agape in not-quite believable shock. “What?! No!” He jammed his hands in his pocket. “That is cold, girl.”

  Once again, Delia scanned the immediate area, and focused on her assistant, who was dutifully taking notes as she spoke with several people with phones in their hands. “Stacy. Come here. Now.”

  Mario, too, stopped talking to people about their pictures and stared at Delia.

  “You, too, Mario. Get over here.”

  “We need to look at the recording from when you all arrived at the security line,” I said to Delia. “When the line was snaking around, all someone had to do was hide the second carrier containing the second dog in the line under a winter coat. It would be really easy to switch dogs and carriers as one person and their dog passes a partner in crime, snaking in the other direction. And, meanwhile, the shady TSA nobody knew could have been bribed to pass Bella through in the dognapper’s coat.”

  “Then why not just leave the line, with my dog and my carrier?” Delia asked, logically. “Claim to have forgotten something, and leave the airport? Why would they send Bella’s dog carrier through one of the security lines, hidden inside a second bag?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe to cause a bigger, more confusing scene? The dognapper might not have wanted you to fly out of Denver without realizing your dog had been stolen. So he could get the ransom money before the police launched a full investigation, maybe.”

  Tom was growing edgy. I got the feeling he was on the edge of bolting from the area.

  “One of you three swapped my carrier with another in the security line,” Delia said. “Or maybe all three of you were in on it together.” She glared at Stacy. “Now that you and Tom are a cozy little couple.”

  “We aren’t a couple,” Stacy said. “I’d never do that to you! He flirts with everybody! Nothing he said or did to me was ever reciprocated.”

  “Oh, now, that’s just not true, Stace,” Tom said. “You were always comin’ on to me like a house afire!”

  “You were the one who carried Bella from the car, Stacy,” Delia persisted. “All the way to the security line.”

  “No, I didn’t. We can find the truth by looking at airport security footage. You’ll see that Mario took the case from me.”

  “Only to put it down for the machine to see through it. I would never cheat you! I am a loyal employee!

  “For all of four weeks now,” Delia muttered.

  “I’m a certified bail bondsman,” Mario said.

  The police officers were now paying close attention to everything that was being said. Delia looked at the closest one and said, “Officer, I want all three of these people arrested. Immediately.”

  “This is all a publicity stunt,” Tom insisted. “Don’t listen to her. She’s the one who knows where her dog is. She brought this dog her herself.”

  “That is a lie! I get publicity when I sneeze! Not to mention when I break up with someone.” She glared at Tom with pure fury in her eyes.

  He winced, and it was clear he got the message that his days with Delia were numbered.

  “The last thing I would ever, ever do is put my little Bella in danger and expose myself to this kind of insanity.”

  “People know you’re all about money,” Tom growled. “You won�
�t be happy until you’re number one. The only reason you love Bella so much is she asks so little of you. All you have to do is feed her and pat her on the head, and she’s adores you.”

  “Miss?” Eddie asked Delia in a near whisper. “My flight’s boarding. I really need my phone back.”

  “Can you send the video to me, and to the police first? I’ll give you my private phone number.”

  “Allie,” my mother said, running up to me. “You were right. Look at this.” I was still holding Not-Bella but she supported her computer so that I could read the screen. It showed an online ad for a two-year-old female Chihuahua named “Ciao.” There was a phone number with Denver’s 303 exchange, followed by the words: “Call Ed.”

  “Hi, Ciao,” I said.

  Not-Bella immediately raised her head and looked at me.

  Still cradling the dog in one arm, I grabbed my cell phone from my pocket and called the number. The phone in Eddie’s hand rang. He shut it off and jammed it in his pocket.

  I shut mine off as well. “Hi, Eddie,” I said, staring straight into his eyes. “It’s Allida Babcock. You’ve just been busted.”

  “Dude,” Tom said, shaking his head.

  “It was his idea,” Eddie said, pointing at Tom.

  “Officers, I want to file a complaint against Tom Adams and Eddie Yarmouth for theft and blackmail,” Delia said, trying again. “And Stacy Kilbride, as well.”

  “I swear to you,” Stacy pleaded, “I had nothing to do with this. “Nothing whatsoever. I was every bit as in the dark as you were.” Clenching her hands together she turned toward Tom. “Tell them, Tom. Please. Tell them the truth.”

  Tom rolled his eyes. After a lengthy pause, he said, “Stacy knew nothing,” as if the words were being pulled painfully out of him. “She’s telling the truth.”

  Delia gave Stacy a long look. “I hope I can believe that.”

  “You can,” Stacy said. “Cross my heart and hope to die.”

  “This was all perfectly innocent, Delia,” Tom said. “At least, it would have been, if you’d done right by me.” A few people guffawed. Tom scanned the faces in the crowd. “My name’s Tom Adams. Y’all should know my name, better than Delia Gantry’s. I’ve got real talent. But Delia’s made sure I stayed in the shadows.”

  Some voices in the crowd were ridiculing him, calling out: “Boo hoo” and “Jerk” and worse names. “I was going to buy Ciao as a Christmas present. I figured Bella and Ciao would be friends.” Tom grimaced. “So we get to Denver, and I make the arrangements with Eddie over the phone, to buy Ciao. But by then, Delia’s treatin’ me like dirt.”

  “I was not!”

  “Yeah, you were! You were writin’ your next hit all about me. ‘He’s stayin’ with another lover/keeping it all so undercover/He loves my doggie more than me/as if her leash was meant to be/chained to my heart/’til it tears me apart./I’m just another doggone fool/to fall for such a no-good tool.”

  “You’re right about the song, Tom,” Delia growled. “You’re a tool, all right. I was always too good for you.”

  “So, I hatch a plot, to get back some of the money I’ve lost as your flunkie, all this time, instead of a recordin’ artist. Only Eddie gives you his real name and records the whole damned thing!”

  “People saw me shooting the video,” Eddie exclaimed. “Somebody was bound to call me out. It ain’t like I blend in real well with the crowd when I’m half a foot taller than anyone.”

  “Well,” Delia said to Tom, with one hand on her hip, “you got yourself a big old audience here, at my expense, and we’re as over as two people can be. All I want to know is: Where’s my dog?”

  Tom lifted his chin. “I’m done talking.”

  “Read him his rights,” one officer said to the other, who promptly started to lead Tom away, while pulling out his handcuffs.

  The second officer approached Eddie, and a third headed toward Mario. “Tell the lady where her dog is,” the officer asked Eddie. “It’s Christmas Eve, after all. You want that kind of karma?”

  “Ask the know-it-all dog expert.”

  “I’d look for a DIA locker key in Eddie’s carry-on luggage. He didn’t have time to leave the airport with Bella, and he couldn’t have hidden her here all this time. He probably put Bella in a duffle bag while he was calling everyone’s attention to Delia standing in the other security line. Then he put Bella in a locker and came to this gate in time to join the back of the crowd.”

  “Sounds right to me,” the officer said. “You want to just give us the key?” he asked Eddie. “Or should I have TSA find it?”

  “It’s in my bag. Front pocket.” He gestured at a small soft-sided gym bag by wall. He looked at me. “You can give me Ciao back now.”

  “Oh, hell, no,” Delia said. “She’s mine now. My Christmas present. From my ex-boyfriend, the tool.” She shot a hateful glare at Tom, then held out her arms for Ciao. I handed her over, knowing she would be in excellent hands. “Someone needs to escort me to the locker, ASAP.”

  “I’ll take you on the cart, Miss Gantry,” an officer said.

  She started to leave with him, then paused and looked back. “Come on, Allie and Allie’s mom. I want to introduce you to Bella. Then I can pull some strings, throw a tantrum, and get us all on a private jet, to the destiny of your choice.”

  “Los Angeles,” my mother said, just as I was saying, “St. Croix.” Mom shot me a wounded look, and I said, “I mean…Los Angeles. Definitely. L.A.”

  Many of the travelers in the crowd had dispersed to catch their flights, but the thirty or forty who remained close by started to applaud.

  “We love you Delia,” a teenage girl shouted. “Bella and Delia forever,” another cried out.

  She grabbed Ciao’s carrier and handed my mom Bella’s carrier that Tom had retrieved. She looked at Stacy and said, “Gather our things and meet us at the lockers. We’re going to Los Angeles. As soon as we can find a pilot.”

  Mom cleared her throat noisily as we hopped into the cart. “Did I mention that my mother’s an excellent pilot?” I told Delia.

  “And I’m happy to work holidays, while your regular pilot is on vacation.”

  “All set?” the officer asked.

  “Just a sec,” she said. We were facing backward in our seats and could see that Tom, in handcuffs, was being led toward a second cart.

  Delia lifted Ciao and wiggled her little paw to wave goodbye. “Ciao, baby,” Delia called. Tom glowered, but kept his eyes averted.

  She nodded at the officer, and we took off. She gave Mom and me a big smile. “Bella and I have a new dog, new friends, and a new fill-in pilot. This is shaping up to be a really great Christmas!”

  “It sure is,” Mom and I said in unison.

  Author’s Note

  Dear Readers,

  Thank you so much for reading this story! I hope you enjoyed reading A DOG-GONE CHRISTMAS as much as I enjoyed writing it. My full-length mysteries always involve murder, and it was a true pleasure to not have to kill anyone on the page for once! I hope to have Bella and Delia Gantry return in a future Allie Babcock Mystery. My characters are never based entirely on a living person, but rather are amalgams of people I’ve known, peppered with a liberal dose of quirks and traits that are drawn my own imagination. In this case, Delia is essentially a composite of Taylor Swift and the 2012 winner of “The Voice”.

  I dearly hope that you’ll want to read more Allie Babcock Mysteries. I write two other mystery series, as well. Near and dear to my heart, the Molly Masters Mysteries are a humorous series about a mother of two who creates eCards. The Domestic Bliss Mysteries, written under my pseudonym, Leslie Caine, feature interior designers, the feisty Erin Gilbert and the unspeakably handsome Steve Sullivan, who meet in DEATH BY INFERIOR DESIGN. If you especially enjoy Christmas books, please consider: HOLLY AND HOMICIDE. I am also introducing a darker trilogy of thrillers, which starts with THE BODY SHIFTERS BEGINS. Please visit my website at www.LeslieOKane.com.

&nb
sp; Warmest wishes,

  Leslie O’Kane

  Table of Contents

  A Dog-Gone Christmas

  Author’s Note

 

 

 


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