Silence Is Golden (A Pet Psychic Mystery No. 3)

by Esposito, Shannon

  I fell back on my bottom and immediately jumped back up and jogged away from the dog so I wouldn't startle her. Shoot. Jumping jacks weren't helping. My skull throbbed from the energy building inside my head. I took off, sprinting back and forth in front of the car. After about the tenth lap, I felt the energy disperse. Pop! As I collapsed on the ground, a street light overloaded above me and blew out.

  Well, I patted myself on the back, that wasn't too bad.

  "Darwin?" Will stood by the open driver's door. While he slipped into a dry jacket, he stared at me with one eyebrow raised. "You okay?"

  I pushed myself off the ground, dusting off the new pale yellow pantsuit that Sylvia—my friend and business partner at Darwin's Pet Boutique—had helped me pick out for the wedding. My cheeks burned. "Yep, hunky-dory. I'll explain in the car."

  I slipped into the back seat of the sedan and snuggled up next to the dog. "Okay, girl. We're gonna do everything in our power to find your family, don't you worry." As I tucked the blanket around her, she plopped her head down in my lap. Her body was stiff, and she was still trembling. I cracked a window to try and lessen the wet dog smell permeating the car.

  Will flipped the siren and lights on to push through the Saturday evening traffic which, it turned out, was a nightmare.

  "Come on, move it," he grumbled.

  The more time I spent around him while he did his job, the more I admired him. I mean, yeah, I was all for needing justice and doing some amateur sleuthing when it was necessary, but every part of Will's job was a challenge to say the least. From solving a murder to just getting to the crime scene.

  Crossing the packed bridge was really slowing us down. He glanced in the rearview mirror as he expertly maneuvered around the cars trying to squeeze over to the side. "So, what happened back there?"

  Oh. Yeah that. I bit down on my lip. "Well, remember how I told you I get visions from animals that have suffered recent trauma?"

  I saw Will's knuckles go white as he gripped the steering wheel harder. "Yeah?"

  I ignored the fact he still wasn't comfortable with my psychic abilities. "Well, the information I get from them comes in the form of energy. Negative energy that is usually pretty strong. So, I have to purge that energy after the vision. Get it out of my body in a controlled manner. Otherwise bad things happen."

  His eyes flicked back to me in the mirror. "That's what all the running around was?"

  "Yeah." I frowned. I could only imagine how ridiculous I had looked. "Usually it's light bulbs that absorb the energy and burst."

  "Wait—" Will's eyes narrowed. "That time we found Karma with Mad Dog at the lake... the cruiser headlights blew out. That was you?"

  "Yeah. Sorry."

  "Huh." He was silent for a moment and then nodded. "So you got a vision from this dog, too?"

  My hopes soared that he was accepting my gift. Plus, I had no prior knowledge of this dog, so if I could give him information that proves I received a vision from her, then he would have no choice but to believe me. This could be a blessing in disguise.

  "Yeah, I got some information from her. She hit something hard. Probably why her ribs are sore. There was a sweet perfume smell present, like flowers. Lilacs. Lots of panic. Oh, and a blinding white light. She felt the need to run. Then she was in the water."

  "Interesting. Not much to go on to find her owners, though."

  "No." I shrugged. "Not much this time." We finally pushed out onto the highway, and I felt the pull of the sedan speeding up. "So, do you get called to every death in the area?"

  Will glanced at me in the rearview mirror as he sped along I-275. "When I'm on call, yes. Homicides and accidents that could be homicides. We treat hit and runs like a homicide until we can prove otherwise. That's what this one looks like. A hit and run."

  "So sad. Will you be there awhile then?"

  "Yeah. I'm sorry. I'll see if I can get someone to drive you two to the emergency vet after I assess the situation."

  I ran a hand over the dog's damp, floppy ear. She glanced at me sideways, the whites of her eyes showing. "You're safe, baby," I cooed. Then to Will, "That's okay. I can call a cab."

  We sped off the exit ramp and down 2nd Avenue toward The Pier. As we crossed Bay Shore Drive, Will made a sharp right into the marina parking lot. Blue lights were flashing off the line of boats at the water's edge. Emergency vehicles filled the narrow lot. He pulled up right beside the yellow crime scene tape barrier. "Stay here. I'll be back in a minute."

  I rolled the window down all the way and watched him walk a few feet to the policeman standing in front of the tape. He handed Will some kind of clip board, and Will scribbled on it.

  "What do we have?" His voice carried on the crisp night air.

  "Female victim, DOA. ID... forty-five." I could only hear snippets of his side of the conversation.

  Will's hands were on his hips. "Coroner notified?"

  "Yes, sir. He's on the way."

  I strained to see around the ambulance to where all the activity seemed to be. Camera flashes were going off. Will glanced back at me and then stepped under the tape. I sighed and settled back into the seat.

  Glancing down, my heart sank. Blood had seeped through the blanket. I lifted the blanket carefully off the dog's hip. Yep, the wet fur was matted with blood. Her jagged breathing showed no sign of calming down. She was probably in shock.

  "All right, girl. Time to get you to the vet." Digging through my straw bag, I found my phone and dialed the Emergency Vet Clinic to let them know we were coming and then called a cab. I wrote a note for Will asking him to pick me up from the clinic when he was done here.

  While I waited, I watched Will talking to a small, thick woman with long dark hair. She seemed very upset. I wondered if she was a relative of the hit and run victim? The cab came barreling up.

  "Hi." I approached his window. "I have an injured dog I need to get to the vet. Do you think you could help me get her into the cab? I'll pay you extra," I added as I saw his eyebrows shoot up.

  Mumbling in a language I didn't understand, the driver helped me lift her and slide her onto the backseat.

  We arrived in record time. The driver seemed happy to get us out of the cab. I tipped him extra as promised, and he finally smiled.

  Luckily Dr. Messing was there. She had been the one to help me with Karma, a mastiff I befriended last summer, so I trusted her completely to give this dog the best care.

  Time dragged as I sat in the waiting room, damp and shivering, my new outfit covered in dog hair. I tried to make the most of my time by reading the pet magazines on the table but my mind kept drifting back to the woman who had died tonight. Did she have kids? A husband? Friends who were going to be devastated by her death? I couldn't even imagine losing one of my friends or sisters like that. I hoped, at least, she didn't feel any pain when it happened. And who could hit someone and just drive away without trying to get them help? One thing was for sure. Will wouldn't rest until the driver was locked up.

  "Hey, you." Will hurried through the vet clinic doors and over to my crumpled form molded to the plastic chair. "Sorry, got here as fast as I could." He held out his hand and helped me out of the chair. "How's the dog?"

  I stretched my back and grimaced. "She's sedated and resting."

  "That's good. She's going to be okay then?"

  "Physically, yeah." I slipped an arm around his waist, under his jacket, as we walked out to his car. "The office manager told me her registered name is Baywater's Silence is Golden, apparently she's a show dog and was microchipped. Her call name is Goldie. She notified the owner, a Victoria Desoto-something—" I glanced up at Will. He had stopped walking. "What's wrong?"

  "Victoria Desoto-Roth." His lips tightened. "That means the leash and collar found nearby did belong to her." He glanced down at me and sighed. "The victim of the hit and run. Come on."

  My mouth fell open. "So, she was that poor woman's dog? Was she with her when she was hit by the car?"

  "Looks
like it."

  I slid into the seat, trying to fit this information into the puzzle. The blinding light. The impact. Made sense. "So, someone hit this woman and the dog jumped into the water and just swam out to the middle of the bay?"

  "Yes."

  "Wow. Poor thing. She must have been really traumatized." I suddenly realized what this meant. "Oh no. The clinic will try to call Victoria." But she can't answer. "I wonder if she was married?"

  "She had a wedding ring on. That's where I have to go now, to the address on her license and notify the husband." He glanced over at me. "You don't mind waiting in the car while I speak to him, do you?"

  "I don't mind." I squeezed his hand. "I didn't know that was part of your job, too."

  "Yeah, well, making a death notification is only the half of it. As the investigating detective I have to eliminate the husband as a suspect."

  "A suspect? So, you think someone did this on purpose?"

  Will shrugged. "There was no sign the driver tried to brake. But, that parking lot is tricky, looks like a road, so the driver could have mistaken it for one. Especially if they were impaired with drugs or alcohol. There was a witness, coming in to dock his boat. He said the driver seemed to be panicking, slipped and fell as she ran to check on the victim. Honestly, I'm thinking a drinking and driving accident. Maybe a tourist who didn't know the area. Or a boat owner. We'll be checking everyone who has a boat docked there."

  I pushed up my sleeves, feeling flushed. "So, when the driver saw how bad this Victoria person was injured, they probably took off so they wouldn't go to jail?"

  Will shrugged, turning the heater down. "Happens all the time. Witness said the driver seemed to go through the victim's backpack and then tossed it to the side. Maybe looking for an ID. Or money. Who knows?"

  I stared out the window. "That woman you were talking to, the one with dark hair, she seemed pretty upset. Was she family?"

  "No, that was Jade Harjo, a good friend of the victim. She was actually meeting Mrs. Desoto-Roth there. She said Victoria was excited, that she had an artifact to give her from her uncle's collection after he recently passed. Ms. Harjo apparently helps get Native American artifacts into the museums. They were supposed to meet at Fresco's."

  I frowned. "Did Victoria still have the artifact on her?"

  "Yeah, we recovered it from her backpack, but it'll be logged as evidence for now so Ms. Harjo will have to wait to claim it."

  Will was pulling into the circle drive of a very large stucco house a few miles from where Victoria died. He left the car running and sighed. "Be back."

  "Good luck." I watched him make his way to the front door and couldn't help but feel a rush of love and respect for the man. I knew he'd gotten into the business of solving murders because he lost his older brother, Christopher, and no one was ever convicted for it. No family should have to go through that. But, it still took someone with a heart full of compassion to choose this kind of job. I wouldn't want to be the one to tell someone their wife had died, that's for sure.

  I turned the heater up as I waited. My clothes were still damp, and I was suddenly very aware I reeked of wet dog. I couldn't wait to get home, take a hot bath and climb under the covers.

  About fifteen minutes had gone by before a man emerged from the house, his head down, his gait uncertain, with Will tagging along behind him. The man was wiping at his nose with a handkerchief as he led Will around to the garage and opened the door. They disappeared inside the garage for just a moment. When they came back out, Will shook the man's hand and gave him a card.

  "How'd it go?" I asked as Will slid back into the car, bringing a blast of cool night air in with him.

  "He was pretty shaken up. They had an argument this morning, and he said they hadn't spoken before she left. I can't imagine what it would be like to have your spouse leave the house and never return. Especially after a fight."

  "Sounds like you don't think he had anything to do with her death? Even though he confessed to them fighting?"

  "Nah. He said it was just him being stubborn, nothing big." Will shrugged. "Besides, according to the witness, the car that hit Victoria was a black sedan. The two cars in his garage were a white minivan and a yellow Miata. And the witness said the driver had dark hair pulled back in a ponytail." He smiled. "In case you didn't notice, Eugene Roth barely has enough hair to run a comb through."

  Okay, now he was just teasing me. I decided to play along. "But he doesn't have an alibi."

  Will chuckled. "This is true."

  I held up my index finger dramatically. "And he has motive since he admitted to an argument. Or money is always a motive. That is a pretty big house." Will smirked at me and then moved his eyes back to the road.

  "I know, I know," I held up my hands, "leave the detecting to the detectives."

  He rested a hand on my knee. "Honestly, Darwin, all kidding aside, I've kind of gotten used to your particular brand of curiosity. I don't mind so much. In fact, your questions keep me thinking outside the box. But, in this case, I don't think there's any big plot to figure out. Just an unfortunate accident. Probably someone out there right now sobering up and quaking in their boots, wondering if they should turn themselves in. We'll still check to see who stood to gain the most from the victim's death, though."

  I grinned, feeling warmth spread through me. Was that acceptance? "I think that's the nicest thing you've ever said to me."

  His blue eyes sparkled as he chuckled. "Well, that's kind of sad. I'll do better."

  "You're doing fine." I leaned over and pressed a kiss on his warm cheek. Mmm. He smelled so good. Like a fresh rain. "Oh, did you tell him the good news about their dog? That she survived?"

  "Yeah. He said Goldie was Victoria's pride and joy. I told him to contact the emergency clinic."

  I nodded. "Good. One problem solved tonight at least. So, what now?"

  "Now," Will grinned at me, "we get you home and out of those hair-covered clothes."

  CHAPTER FOUR

  I had just opened the door to Darwin's Pet Boutique to let in Sylvia's first grooming appointment when my cell phone buzzed in my pocket.

  Pulling it out, I frowned then greeted our customer before answering it. "Morning Madeleine." I smiled at the well-dressed woman and her Labradoodle, Micah. "Sylvia will be right with you."

  Then, I hurried to answer my phone, since pretty much only my family in Savannah, Frankie and Will called me on it. Please don't let it be an emergency. "Hello?"

  "Darwin Winters please."

  "Speaking." I frowned, not recognizing the voice.

  "Hi Darwin, this is Donna at Emergency Veterinary. You brought in an injured golden retriever last night?"

  "Oh, yes, how is she?"

  "She's doing better. All stitched up. We got her to eat a bite this morning and have her on a light sedative. She's still pretty traumatized."

  "Can't blame her." I motioned to Sylvia her client was here. "Did Mr. Roth contact you to pick her up?"

  "Yes, that's what I wanted to talk to you about. He called us this morning and asked us to give Goldie back to the breeder."

  I stopped in the middle of the aisle. "What? Why?"

  "He said Goldie will remind him too much of his wife, and he's not coping well with her death as it is. They have a contract with Baywater Kennel that says Goldie has to go back to them, if for any reason they can no longer care for her."

  "Oh." I was still trying to process what she was saying. The dog has been through hell and now she isn't welcome back in her own home? My face flushed.

  "But, here's the thing. I talked to Linda, the lady who owns the kennel. Dr. Messing put in a good word for you, and so Linda is willing to do a home visit with you so you could adopt her."

  Wa.. wa... wait... what?!

  She took my silence as her cue to keep talking. "You know, So Goldie doesn't have to go back. After all, she's been through enough, right? She deserves a permanent home."

  "Of course she does." I didn't reall
y appreciate the guilt trip being laid on me, but I'd probably do the same thing if I were in her shoes. "She does deserve a home. But..." Did I really have enough space in my life to give this traumatized dog the attention she deserved? I pinched the bridge of my nose and counted to ten. It would be nice to have a dog around again. "Okay. So, say I agree to adopt her, what's the next step?"

  "Oh, yes, great question." I heard the relief in her voice. "Well, you can pick her up any time this afternoon. I'll give Linda your contact information, and she'll call you to set up the home visit. Shouldn't be any trouble at all. I just know you and Goldie will be a great match."

  "Thanks. All right, I guess I'll see you this afternoon." I hung up. I supposed I was picking up the bill, too. Not that money was the issue. Abandoning a pet was.

  I rang up a few early morning customers and then snuck back to talk to Sylvia. Leaning against the glass window that separated her grooming room from the main part of the boutique, I crossed my arms and watched her expertly trim Micah's nails as she spoke soothing Portuguese to him.

  "Remember the golden retriever we found and took to the vet last night?"

  Sylvia flicked a silky dark bang out of her eye, glancing at me. "Si?"

  "When Charlie comes in this afternoon, I'm going to go pick her up. I'll be taking care of her for a bit." I wasn't ready to say I'd be keeping her. There was a chance the home visit wouldn't turn out great. What if this Linda person thought I worked too much? Or wouldn't have enough time to exercise her? There could be any number of reasons she'd take her back. Goldie was a show dog. What if she wanted to keep her and show her?

  Sylvia's brow shot up. "Because?"

  "Her owner apparently can't. Reminds him too much of his late wife. So, she needs a place to go right now."

  "Aí não, that is no good." Sylvia shook her head, flashing me a smile. "You were the child who brought home stray kittens, no?"