by Tracy Weber
Déjà vu prickled the back of my neck. Momma Bird had said those words to me, a year ago when we spoke about George’s murder. The exact same words that the Dollars for Change vendor had said in my dream about Bella. Had my subconscious channeled the phrase for a reason?
I let her continue without interruption.
She pointed to Pete’s Pets. “I did, however, happen to notice a woman—at least I think it was a woman—setting a box outside the pet store.”
“What did she look like?”
“I didn’t pay much attention. She wasn’t thin like you, but she wasn’t round like me, either. She wore black sweats and a hoodie pulled over her head. That’s what made me notice her.”
“Could you see her face?”
“Nah, like I said, the hood was up. It covered most of her face.”
A child toddled up to the bench and handed Momma Bird a dollar. She gave him a paper and said, “Tell your mama thanks for me.” He ran back to his mother, who smiled and waved.
“Anyway,” Momma Bird continued, “I didn’t think much of it at first. Figured she was making a delivery of some kind. But she started acting suspicious, looking over her shoulder like she was afraid someone was watching. She set the box down and scurried away.”
Momma Bird took a swig of her coffee. “Now that got me curious. This is an okay neighborhood and all, but if you leave something valuable outside, it’s gonna walk away. So I watched to see what would happen, you know?”
I nodded my head yes.
“I wasn’t gonna steal that box, no matter what that boyfriend of yours thinks. But when I heard the whining, I figured there was something alive inside.” She lifted her chin. “I had to open it. I couldn’t leave it there knowing there were animals inside that might suffocate.”
“I’d have done the same thing. So would Michael.”
“I barely got it open before your boyfriend started eyeballing me through the window. I didn’t want no trouble, so I took off.”
“Why didn’t you stay?”
She shrugged. “I was afraid he’d accuse me of stealing. Not everyone takes kindly to a homeless woman digging through a box on their doorstep. Besides, the theater around the corner was about to let out. I make good money there.”
“You sell papers in front of the theater?”
“You didn’t think I came all the way from the U District to see you, did you?”
Embarrassingly enough, I had.
“Do you remember anything else that might identify the woman you saw?” I asked.
Momma Bird shook her head. “Sorry hon, I don’t. And I’m not trying to shake you down for more money, either. I’ve got a soft spot for animals. Terrible thing to abandon them like that. Just terrible.”
She picked up her papers, drained her coffee, and prepared to leave.
“I don’t think I was all that much help to you, Yogi Kate.”
I pulled another ten-dollar bill out of my pocket. “Before you go, I have one more question. Did you leave a note on my car yesterday?”
Momma Bird seemed confused. “A note? No. Why would I leave you a note when I can come talk to you?”
Why indeed.
I gave her the money. “It’s not important. Thanks for your time.”
She tucked the bill next to its twin, shuffled three steps away, then changed her mind. “You know, there is one more thing, now that I think about it. Probably doesn’t mean anything … ”
“What is it?”
“The woman who left the box was smoking one of those fake cigarettes.”
An electricity-like jolt zapped down my spine.
An e-vape. Nicole.
Nicole was the puppy snatcher. She had to be.
It explained everything. Why she’d been late for the Yoga to Overcome Grief class, where she’d been with her mother’s car, even why she’d stolen money from her stepfather’s wallet. She needed cash to buy ferry tickets. It explained her actions last night, too. She hadn’t gone to Tiffany’s apartment after the Sound Bath—she’d finagled some alone-time to put a note on my car.
“She was smoking an e-vape?” I asked. “Are you sure?”
“Hon, I’m an ex-smoker. I can sniff out a real death stick a block away.” She looked at me shrewdly. “That mean something to you?”
“I’m not positive, but I think the woman you saw was one of my students.”
“Well, give her hell for me. Leaving those babies alone like that ain’t right.” She mumbled under her breath and shuffled away. “Ain’t right at all.”
I stared after Momma Bird, unsure how many mysteries my new insight had solved. Nicole left the puppies in front of Pete’s Pets. I was sure of it. But why did she leave the note on my car? Was she trying to lead me to the puppies’ mother or to a clue about her stepfather’s death?
Or were they one and the same?
Were the puppies and Dr. Dick’s murder somehow connected? I asked myself the same questions over and over again, but I couldn’t come up with an answer. The clues I’d uncovered about the two crimes were woven together like a poorly knitted sweater. I’d need to unlock the pattern before I could tease the strands apart.
The first step was to corner Nicole. I called and left a message on her cell phone, then hustled back to my car. The evening yoga teacher could close up shop without me. I needed to discuss this new information with Michael. I was so distracted, I’d already inserted my key into the ignition before I noticed the paper on my windshield.
Another note.
I slowly unfolded the creases. A lead weight dropped on my stomach.
Tiffany told me about your recent escapades. I’ve had enough. We need to talk.
It was signed Michael.
Twenty-Three
Michael paced back and forth across the living room floor, so angry I was surprised he didn’t spontaneously sprout a beard just to torment me. “It wasn’t enough for you to break the law and put yourself in danger? You had to corrupt Tiffany, too?”
I flashed him my cutest, most mischievous grin. “Come on, Michael. That’s not fair. Tiffany was corrupted long before I met her.”
Suffice it to say, he wasn’t amused.
“This isn’t funny, Kate. You went to a medical clinic under false pretenses—which you promised me you wouldn’t—then you broke into someone’s property and stole a dog? Tiffany could do serious jail time with another offense.” He stopped pacing and jabbed my chest with his index finger. “As for you … if you get arrested, I might not even bail you out. At least if you’re locked in a jail cell, I’ll know what you’re up to.” He recommenced pacing. “I’m not sure what to be maddest about: that you put yourself in danger, or that you broke your promise to me about going to the fertility clinic. Seriously, Kate. I’ve had enough.”
I didn’t blame Michael for being angry, but I was starting to get a little testy myself. My voice competed for volume with his. “Hold on there, mister, and cut back on the threats. Tiffany and I weren’t in danger, and I didn’t break any promises. I told you that I wouldn’t go to the clinic alone, and I didn’t. I didn’t even make the appointment. Tiffany did.” I crossed my arms and planted my feet wide. “You’re the one who wanted me to spend more time with her. Well, I did. Deal with it.”
“And I suppose it was an oversight that you didn’t tell me about it.”
“Not an oversight. Conflict avoidance. I was trying to avoid the very fight we’re having now.”
Michael and I glared at each other, each refusing to give ground. Each stupidly trying to prove who was alpha. The puppies cowered in the farthest corner of their ex-pen. Bella stepped between us and whined.
I took a deep breath and consciously lowered my volume. “We need to stop yelling. We’re scaring the dogs.” My voice quavered. “Are we breaking up?”
“Geez, Kate! No!”
Michael’s voice softened. “No.” He took my hands. “Honey, couples fight. We’ll fight. You can’t be ready to jump ship every time we have an argument.”
My eyes watered. “You said you’d had enough.”
“I meant that I’d had enough of you sneaking around and doing stupid things behind my back. Not of you. Definitely not of us.”
I bristled at the word “stupid,” but I let it go. “Then can we please stop yelling at each other and talk? I need your help.”
Michael closed his eyes for a long moment, then slowly relaxed his shoulders. “Let’s sit.” He led me to the couch, where we sat next to each other, knees touching.
“For the record,” I said, “I didn’t know Tiffany was going to break the shed’s window until it was already done. And no one stole the dog. Dr. Steinman gave it to Betty.”
“Why would he do that?”
I paused before answering. Michael would be furious if he learned about Betty and Jamie’s ruse. “If I tell you what happened, you’ll get mad. Can I just say it wasn’t my idea and move on?”
Michael’s shoulders tensed again, but he nodded his head yes.
“The good news is, I talked to Momma Bird and I think I know where the puppies came from.” I filled him in on everything Momma Bird had told me and the semi-firm conclusions I’d reached. “I left a message on Nicole’s cell, asking about the note, but she hasn’t called back yet. I think she wanted me to find Mutt and Jeff’s mother. But if I’m wrong and she was leading me to a clue about Dr. Dick’s murder, Tiffany and I blew it. Once we saw the dog, all we thought about was saving her.”
“Tell Martinez.”
“Tell her what? That I broke into someone’s private property, but I was too stupid to look for unspecified evidence that might not even exist? Come on, even I don’t expect her to act on that information.”
“You are not going back to that shed, Kate,” Michael ordered.
I lifted my eyebrows and frowned.
“Fine,” he replied. “How about you’re not going back there without me?”
“Neither of us is going back until I talk to Nicole.” I lowered my voice to a whisper, as if speaking the words softly would make them less real. “Michael, I think Nicole might have done it.”
“Stolen the puppies? Probably. But at this point, who cares? I’m certainly not going to turn her in. Legally she may have committed a crime, but ethically? She seems like a hero to me.”
“I agree, but I’m not talking about the dogs. I’m afraid that she might have killed her stepfather.”
Michael looked confused. “How does anything you saw today indicate that?”
“It gives her more motive. You didn’t see Dr. Dick the night Nicole stole his money. He threatened to send her away over fifty dollars. If he ever found out she’d stolen dogs worth five thousand dollars from his business partner, he’d have kicked her out for sure.”
“I can’t imagine dumping a kid over some rescued puppies.”
“Me neither. But Nicole wasn’t his daughter, and he didn’t want her living with him in the first place. I got the feeling he was looking for an excuse to get rid of her.” I slumped heavily into the couch cushion. “I’m not sure what to do. I hate to point Martinez toward Nicole without more information.”
Michael sighed. “There’s nothing we can do, at least not tonight.” He stood. “It’s late and I’m tired. Let’s go to bed. Maybe we’ll come up with a brilliant idea in the morning.”
I remained sitting. “Honey, we need to talk about the puppies.”
Michael sagged back down beside me. “Tiffany told me.” He averted his eyes. “How could you tell Tiffany that we have to get rid of Mutt and Jeff before you told me?”
My heart deflated like a two-day-old balloon. That’s why Michael was so upset. And he was right. He deserved to hear the bad news from me. More importantly, he deserved to hear it first.
“I’m so sorry, Michael. You’re right. I should have talked it over with you before I told anyone else. I was upset, and Tiffany was there. I guess I needed some sympathy.”
“You don’t even like Tiffany.”
I smiled. “That’s where you’re wrong. I do like her. I don’t know when it happened, but your plan worked. Tiffany’s not nearly as bad as I made her out to be.” I circled the conversation back to the puppies. “The vet thinks Bella’s digestive upset was triggered by stress—that she doesn’t like living with other dogs.”
Michael sighed. “Honestly, I’m not surprised. I started to wonder when she trapped the puppies outside.”
“I know you wanted to keep them. I did too, but … ” I couldn’t finish the sentence.
“I get it, Kate. Bella’s my dog now, too. She has to come first.” He glanced at the ex-pen. “They’re healthy enough to have their shots now. I’ll call to make an appointment tomorrow.” His lower lip trembled. “A couple of days after that, we’ll take them to Betty’s.”
I glanced at the puppies, curled up together in a perfect yin-yang symbol. “There’s something else.” As I told Michael about Betty’s littermate policy, his entire body seemed to grow small. He looked almost as stricken as he had the night of his father’s car accident, before the doctors knew he’d pull through.
“I can’t imagine separating them, Kate.”
I leaned over and kissed his cheek. “I know. I can’t either.” I grabbed his hand and pulled him to standing. “Let’s go to bed. We’ll figure out something tomorrow. I promise.”
The five of us retired to the bedroom in heartbreaking silence. When I fell asleep three hours later, Michael was still staring at the ceiling, both puppies curled up asleep on his chest.
Sleep provided no solutions. Michael dejectedly made an appointment for the pups’ first round of vaccines. We agreed to give ourselves the weekend to come up with an alternative plan, then we’d turn Mutt and Jeff over to Betty. For today, they’d hang out with Aunt Rene and Uncle Sam.
The antibiotics had started to kick in, so Bella’s digestive issues were blissfully waning. She was too stressed to stay home alone or hang out with the puppies, so Michael took her to work with him. He promised to park in my indoor parking spot and to take her for a walk every couple of hours. That left me free to focus my busy day on birth planning, mystery solving, and working with my clients at the Lake Washington Medical Center.
First up was wrangling Rene into finally creating her birth plan. I coached Mutt and Jeff as I carried them up the stairs to her front door. “Listen up, you two. No destructo-puppy antics today—at least not until after I leave. This is a business meeting. I have to focus.”
I was surprisingly nervous about today’s meeting. I had learned just enough in doula training to feel completely incompetent. The best I could do was talk Rene and Sam through a list of birthing options while not revealing my own preferences. Not that I had any yet.
Sam opened the door. The puppies wiggled out of my grasp and delightedly dive-bombed his shoes, growling and yanking at his laces.
“Come on you two, knock it off!” He swept them into his arms, carried them to the living room, and deposited them unceremoniously inside a child’s playpen.
“Sam, they’re not housetrained. If you plan to use that for the twins, I’d get them out of there. Pronto.”
“It’s not for the twins—it’s for the fur balls. I bought it last night. It’s super-portable but sturdy. I plan to trap the little destroyers inside, so they can be near us without causing trouble.” He mistook my pained expression for disapproval. “Don’t worry, Kate. They won’t be stuck in it all day. I’ll take them out every hour to play with them and give them a potty break.”
“That’s not it, Sam,” I replied. “I’m grateful. It’s just that the puppies won’t be coming here much longer.”
Sam’s eyebrows narrowed. “Why not?”
A beach b
all-sized lump formed in my throat. “Can we talk about it later? After the birth plan?”
Sam didn’t look happy, but he acquiesced.
Rene peeked her head out from behind a fort-like pile of papers, fabric swatches, and catalogues stacked on the couch. “Sam was about to make my breakfast smoothie,” she said. “Do you want one?”
Oh good lord, not another food fight.
I shook my finger at my friends like a grumpy old school marm. “Let’s get one thing straight, you two. There will be no arguing over food this time.” I gave them both a direct, Alpha Kate stare. “I mean it.”
Rene flashed me her best impression of a submissive grin. “You don’t need to worry about that, Kate. Sam and I had a long talk after that unfortunate incident at the hospital, and we realized that we were both acting silly.”
“She’s right,” Sam replied. “I was so worried about the twins after Rene’s premature labor scare that I went a little crazy. I wanted to keep everyone safe, you know? Dictating her diet made me feel in control.”
“Well, I am a junk food addict, hon. Making sure the twins get adequate nutrition isn’t all that silly.” Rene swept the makings of Fort Baby into a pile and stacked them on the floor. “We came up with a compromise: I drink one of Sam’s smoothies every day, and he allows me one junk food meal. My other six meals are up for negotiation.”
Sam nodded his head like a mustached bobble head doll. “That way we’re both equally unhappy.”
Rene smiled at him sweetly, but I could have sworn that her right eyebrow twitched. “Honey, why don’t you make that mondo-nutritious avocado-apple-dandelion smoothie you keep raving about? I’m sure Kate would like to try it, too.”
I backed away from them both. “No thanks. I already had breakfast. I’m not hungry.”
“Nonsense,” Rene admonished. “It’s liquid. It’s not filling at all.” She swished her hand through the air. “Hurry up, honey. I’m hungry.” As Sam left for the kitchen, Rene wiggled her eyebrows at me and yelled, “Make Kate’s a big one!”
