Trigger Yappy

by Diana Orgain

  Unsure if I should go to him, I remained rooted in place. “I don’t think your job is easy. I know it must be very difficult to figure out who did this—”

  “That’s not the hard part, Maggie.” He turned back to me. “The hard part is keeping you safe.” He gave a small, sad chuckle. “Don’t you get that? Figuring out who did this is only one part of my job. The important part is keeping everyone in Pacific Cove safe. That’s my real job.”

  Before I could reply, he added. “That’s why I’m unclear why you seem to want to undermine me at every turn.”

  My heart felt heavy. “I don’t mean to do that. Really. I’m so sorry. You’re right. I could have had the wine delivered, but Cornelia told me Hendrick inherited Chic Chickie—”

  A look of surprise crossed Brad’s face. “You’ve talked to Cornelia about Hendrick? I didn’t think you knew Cornelia.”

  Uh-oh.

  “She asked Rachel for a job. She wanted to quit working for Fran,” I said.

  Brad nodded and seemed to somewhat relax, then a voice barked from the down the hall, “Brooks!”

  Brad straightened his shoulders and took in a deep breath. “I gotta go.”

  A moment later, Sergeant Gottlieb stuck his bald head into the room. He smiled when he saw me. “Oh, hello, Maggie. Please excuse me.”

  “No problem,” Brad said. “We were just finishing up.”

  * * *

  I left Brad’s office feeling unsettled. He didn’t want me to investigate, that much was clear. But was I really in danger?

  In the hallway, seated on the hard orange plastic chairs were Yolanda, Max, and Brenda.

  Oh, no!

  My sixth sense told me Brad would be furious to find Yolanda and Brenda here, but before I could signal them, Gottlieb appeared behind me.

  Yolanda sprang from her chair and rushed over to him. He greeted her warmly, put a hand on her elbow and ushered her down the hallway. Yolanda smiled and winked at me as she passed me in the hallway. Then Officer Ellington appeared from the opposite direction and asked Max to follow him.

  Brenda stood and said, “As his counsel, I request to be present in the interview.”

  Ellington shrugged. “That’s fine. Follow me.”

  I found myself alone in the little hallway, with no idea what to do next. I glanced at the two uniformed officers at the front. They seemed completely uninterested in me. I figured I was free to go.

  Outside, the sun had burned off the coastal fog. The day was another scorcher.

  I walked briskly without direction. Soon I was on the cobblestone path that led to the center of town. I passed the fountain, with the marble statue of a man on a horse. Then I turned and walked past the sundial. In front of me was Brenda’s law firm/designer shoe outlet, Bradford and Blahnik.

  I shaded my eyes and peered into the window, past the prominently displayed beautiful pairs of strappy sandals in all the summer colors. I was drenched with sweat and it had nothing to do with the heat or the walk.

  The lights were out in the shop, as I’d imagined. With Brenda distracted at the station, now was the perfect time to check out what information I could find at her office.

  I prayed Brad wouldn’t find out about my snooping. I consoled myself with the thought that if I found nothing, no one would be the wiser.

  I glanced over my shoulder to see if anyone was in sight. There were a few people scattered about, however, no one seemed to notice me. I tried the front door. It was locked. With another surreptitious look behind me, I pulled the keys from my pocket and unlocked the chrome handle on the door.

  If anyone approached me, I was prepared to tell them that Brenda had sent me. But I was relieved to see that no one gave me a second look. I entered the store quickly and was startled to see Brenda’s Chihuahua, Pee Wee, charging at me.

  He growled and bared his teeth.

  My heart raced and my blood pressure skyrocketed.

  Good God! Is Pee Wee actually going to attack me?

  “Pee Wee! It’s me. Maggie,” I said.

  He snarled at me and gave me his most ferocious bark.

  “I only need to take a look around, Pee Wee, calm down!”

  His growl turned into a half snort and he sniffed my feet.

  Why hadn’t I thought to bring any Bark Bites? Pee Wee loved those things.

  While Pee Wee circled me, I surveyed the front room. A while back, Brenda had opted to keep her law practice open by bringing in a line of designer shoes in order make the rent on the building. Although the pair of pink pumps by Manolo Blahnik next to the cash register was enough to take my breath away, I figured there’d be plenty of time for shopping when Brenda was here. Now was my time to snoop. If Pee Wee let me that was.

  I cautiously stepped around him, then hustled to the back room. Brenda’s office was the small adjoining room. The room was dominated by a large glass desk, a metal filing cabinet, and a blue doggie bed tucked in a corner.

  Pee Wee followed me into the office. I pointed toward the bed.

  “Go back to sleep, Pee Wee.”

  The dog hesitated for a moment, but when I repeated myself and pointed a bit more emphatically to the bed, he obeyed. He popped into the doggie bed and dropped his head.

  “Good boy,” I said, stepping toward the filing cabinet.

  He lifted his head and kept an eye on me.

  “It’s fine,” I said. “Go to sleep.”

  I didn’t need a witness to the crime. Not even of the canine persuasion.

  I fiddled with the key ring. There was a small blue circular key that looked like it opened either a file cabinet or desk drawer. I jammed it into the file cabinet and Pee Wee came unglued. He turned his snout into the air and howled like a banshee.

  “Hush now!” I said.

  He ignored my command and continued to howl. I decided to ignore him and try the key again. The cabinet came open and I rummaged through the files. It took me about ten minutes to figure out there wasn’t any file on Cornelia.

  I closed the cabinet and moved over to the desk. Pee Wee didn’t seem to mind my presence at the desk so much, he calmed down and took to his doggie bed again.

  Brenda’s desk only had one main top drawer. I silently eased it open.

  My breath caught and I suddenly felt nauseous. The room gave a sickening twirl and I held on to the desk to steady myself.

  Inside the drawer was a shiny silver handgun, the Berretta logo stamped plainly in sight.

  I slammed the drawer closed, as if that would make the vision disappear. Then, tempted by faith I edged it open again, the gun stared up at me. Teasing me, taunting me.

  I swore under my breath and Pee Wee lifted his head, pried an eye open and observed me.

  What kind of gun was used to kill Fran and Darla?

  This was ridiculous! Brenda couldn’t possibly be the killer.

  Although she could be safeguarding the gun for a client. Whose gun was that?

  I dug my phone out of my pocket and pulled up the camera. I took a few snapshots of the gun and then closed the drawer.

  I had to get out of there before Brenda returned.

  Chapter Twenty-one

  I slept poorly, the image of Darla lifeless in bed haunted me. Brad’s lecture also weighed heavily on my mind. I knew he hadn’t wanted me to investigate any further and yet, I’d snuck into Brenda’s office. That had been a mistake. I resolved to stop poking around and asking questions. After all, what had it gotten me? I’d skipped my cruise and all I had to show for it was more trouble.

  I would let Brad and Ellington investigate. Darla’s and Fran’s murders were none of my business.

  I padded into the kitchen to brew a morning cup of tea and fortify my resolve by rooting around and finding some biscuits. As soon as I settled down to enjoy my new favorite tea blend—Maharaja Chai Oolong Tea, infused with cinnamon, ginger, pepper, and cloves—my phone rang. I groaned inwardly.

  If it was Yolanda, Brad, or Rachel there was sure to be some t
alk of the investigation and I’d barely had time to ferment my resolution to stay out of it all.

  I peeked at the caller ID with one eye. It was Gus.

  I rushed to answer.

  “Hey there, gorgeous,” Gus’s deep voice filled the line and a delicious warmth spread through my belly. Gus was one person I wouldn’t have to discuss murder with.

  “Hi, Gus! How did your first show go?”

  He groaned. “I got put into the crisper.”

  “Oh, no! What happened?”

  “They put out a bunch of envelopes with recipes inside. Only we didn’t know what they were, right? I picked a simple quiche—”

  “You make a great quiche! I love your quiches,” I raved.

  “Thanks, but I didn’t have any eggs. I couldn’t even trade or coerce anyone because no one had eggs. I came up with a vegan variation, and the judges loved it. But in the end, they said it wasn’t a quiche.”

  “If they knew there weren’t any eggs available why did they assign you a quiche?”

  “Ack, that’s the way the show’s set up. They want people to fail. They want drama or they wouldn’t get ratings,” he said.

  “I’m so sorry,” I said, although a part of me wanted Gus back home so badly I could taste it. “What happens now?”

  “Tonight the show will air and the judging part will be live. Do you think you can call in and vote to save me?”

  “Absolutely! The Roundup Crew will be at the Wine and Bark tonight. Max brought in his couch and TV. We’ll have our own viewing studio. Everyone will call in.”

  “You’re the best, Maggie.” His voice dropped an octave and he said, “I miss you.”

  I took in a deep breath and let Gus’s adoration fill me. I needed the boost of confidence.

  We were silent for a moment and then Gus asked, “So what’s up with you? Anything new?”

  I thought about Darla, but refused to get sucked back into mystery mode. “It’s been quiet here,” I lied.

  When I hung up with Gus, a call from Rachel beeped through. “How are you?” I asked. “Any news on the discharge?”

  Rachel sighed. “The nurse says she wants my iron levels up before they release me. Right now I’m anemic.”

  “Oh, Rach!”

  “I know. I’m afraid they’re going to release me from one ward and admit me right into another one.”

  I laughed. “Nah, they would have done that years ago, if you were really that crazy.”

  “You will cover for me tonight, right?” she asked. “With Vrishali.”

  “Of course,” I answered.

  “Oh, Mags, what would I ever do without you?”

  * * *

  Yolanda sat on my couch. Her feet curled up underneath her, while Beepo wandered around my apartment and whined at the glass door that led to the deck. I let him out and admired the view of the Pacific.

  “What do you think about Darla?” she asked. “Hendrick did it, right?”

  I sighed. I hadn’t wanted to be dragged into this conversation, but I knew the minute Yolanda and Beepo showed up on my doorstep that that was exactly what would happen.

  “You don’t have to answer me,” she said smugly. “I know he did and, more importantly, Gottlieb knows it, too.”

  I shrugged. “Well, then it’s settled.”

  “Tea?” I asked.

  She made a face. “You know I don’t drink that. It’s flavored water.”

  “Isn’t that what coffee is, too?” I asked.

  She looked horrified. “It most certainly is not!” She waved a hand around. “Anyway, about tonight. We’ll have Max head over early and polish up the floors. I want Vrishali to be über impressed when she sees our transformation. There’s no way I’m going to let the Kitty Corner steal our thunder.”

  “Have you been over there to check out the location yet?” I asked.

  Yolanda shook her head. “No, I don’t want to go near it.”

  “She’s having a grand opening this weekend. We should go.”

  “Why?” Yolanda demanded. “She doesn’t want us there and—”

  “Why do you say that? She’s very nice. She came over with a fruit basket and personally invited us.”

  “Invited you!” Yolanda said. “She didn’t invite me. I don’t have to go. Anyway, you know how I feel about cats.”

  I snickered. “How do you feel about cats?”

  “They eat birds!” Yolanda shrieked.

  “Not chickens though, right?”

  Yolanda turned her nose up at me and plucked an imaginary hair off her skinny jeans.

  “I didn’t get a chance to tell you, but Cornelia might be interested in going into business with you. She heard that you made Fran an offer on the business. She said Chic Chickie had been her idea.”

  Yolanda tapped her long, lacquered nails on my coffee table. “Well, I don’t know. Hendrick inherited the business, but with him in jail…”

  “Wait, he’s in jail?”

  “Not yet,” Yolanda said. “But he will be. Gottlieb just needs some evidence. Anyway, with Hendrick out of the picture, perhaps Cornelia and I could open up a new storefront together.”

  I refilled my tea and wandered to the back deck. Relief swept over me, if Hendrick was indeed the killer, then I didn’t need to worry about investigating or not investigating. I was free to focus on the evening’s festivities and to ensure that the Wine and Bark secured the cover of Doggie Day.

  Finishing my tea and I said, “Let’s get cracking, we have work to do at the Wine and Bark.”

  Yolanda stood. “Oh, yes, you really should head over there and get things straightened out. I’m going to over to Abigail’s to get my hair done and then home to change.”

  “Why is it when there’s work to be done, you always have a hair appointment?” I asked.

  Yolanda smiled. “I have great timing.”

  * * *

  Max rolled the floor polisher around the terra-cotta, sprucing up old dents and marks that had been on the floor since forever. I had to admit the Wine and Bark was starting to really shape up. I arranged the Verdant Vines wines behind the bar. The Merlots together, the Chardonnays together, and the Syrahs together. It was true, that I had reservations about serving the wine due to the circumstances of the evening before, but I gathered Vrishali wouldn’t be any the wiser about Hendrick. And besides, everyone was innocent until proven guilty.

  Further, I wasn’t convinced that Hendrick was the one who had killed Darla and Fran. It wasn’t my place to judge. I opened one of the bottles of Syrah to let it aerate before the crowd showed up. Although I wasn’t a wine expert, I knew that allowing the wine to breathe would break down the tannins and lessen its astringency, providing for a smoother flavor.

  Max turned the floor polisher off and turned on the TV. “What channel is Gourmet Games on?” he asked.

  “Our local twenty-two,” I said. “I can hardly wait.”

  “I brought my laptop,” Max said. “So I can go ahead and vote for him online and then through my phone, too. Double up the voting, you know?”

  “That’s a great idea,” I said.

  Across the patio I could see Brenda approaching. Max lit up like a little boy and ran to the door to greet her. She was dressed in her traditional black outfit with a tight corset and leather pants. She looked so beautiful and curvaceous that she reminded me of a cartoon. In her arms she carried her faithful Chihuahua, Pee Wee.

  “The place looks great!” she said. “I can’t wait until we make the cover of Doggie Day.” Approaching the bar, she said, “Do you have a Bark Bite for Pee Wee?”

  Pee Wee fixed his big brown eyes on me and licked his chops.

  Behind Brenda, Max was drooling over her about as much as Pee Wee was drooling for a Bark Bite. I grabbed a doggie treat from the silver bowl next to me, and handed it to Brenda. She fed it to Pee Wee and released him to the floor. He ran happily toward the window, but lost his footing and slid all the way across the floor.

  W
e all stared, horrified.

  “Oh, no!” Max said.

  Pee Wee, confused about what was going on, tried to run back to Brenda, but he slipped and slid the whole way. Brenda laughed uncontrollably, then picked up the Chihuahua.

  Max asked, “Will the floor be too slippery for the dogs tonight?”

  I came around the bar to examine the floor. It seemed fine to me, but I had rubber treads on the bottom of my sneakers.

  “I’m not slipping,” I said.

  Brenda tentatively put Pee Wee down again. He ran over to the front door and skidded all the way there. Pee Wee seemed completely unbothered about slipping and sliding. Although for us it was going to be a huge issue if all the dogs came in and had same experience.

  “Geez,” I said. “This is going to be a disaster.”

  Brenda giggled, and Max buried his head.

  “What do we do?” I asked Max.

  “Do you think this is just a Pee Wee thing?” he asked. “Or will all the dogs have this reaction?”

  “Hard to say,” Brenda said. She pulled out her phone and sent a quick text to Yolanda. “Let’s have someone else come on down and weigh in.”

  * * *

  Yolanda was not pleased to have been called to the Wine and Bark to test the quality of the floor. She showed up with her hair drenched and stuck to her face. Abigail, on the other hand, seemed fine with interruption. “We were halfway through setting her hair, but I didn’t like the way it was looking, so I wet it down and we’ll have to start again. It was perfect timing,” Abigail said.

  Yolanda held Beepo at the door of the Wine and Bark. “What do you want me to do?”

  “Just put him down,” I said. “Let’s see if he can get traction.”

  She put him down and I tempted him with a Bark Bite. “Come here, Beepo,” I called.

  He ran to me and, sure enough, he slid across the floor.

  Yolanda gasped, horrified. At her side, Abigail giggled. “Let’s try with Missy.” She put down the Shih Tzu, but Missy never even got started. She flopped immediately onto the floor, looking like a furry mop.

  Well, a furry mop with a rhinestone bow on its head.

  I laughed, but Yolanda glared at me.

  “What were you thinking?” she demanded.