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

by Esposito, Shannon

  Kittens. Birds. Frogs. And once a litter of naked, pink, orphaned baby moles.

  I sighed. "That would be me. What could I say though? She's already had her world torn apart. And a posh world it was, apparently. She was a show dog."

  "Well." She shrugged and patted the champagne-colored Labradoodle on his rump. "Now she will be a pet boutique dog. Not so bad a life."

  I smiled. I loved Sylvia's optimism. "Not a bad life at all." Unless I could find her a better home. Maybe she could still be a show dog for someone.

  The steady flow of pet-loving snowbirds kept me busy enough that I didn't have time to think about Goldie again until Charlie came in at one o'clock. Charlie Nichols was a vet tech student at St. Pete College who we hired in December to make sure we could take a lunch break during tourist season. Especially after my sister, Mallory, went back home.

  We had to work around Charlie's classes but she was great with the customers. If I had to describe Charlie in two words it would be dependable and colorful. She had pink hair, tattoo "sleeves", a silver stud in her left nostril and a heart bigger than the state of Texas. Her passion for helping animals was the thing that shone through and got her hired. It didn't hurt that she believed in the supernatural. I learned that from her interest in the flower essence.

  "Hey, Charlie." I greeted her as she shoved her bag under the counter. "How'd the anatomy test go?"

  "Aced it." She held up her hand, and I gave her a high five.

  "Good for you. I'd feel bad if working here was taking away from your study time." Not that she needed it. The more I got to know Charlie, the more I realized what a brilliant mind sat under those strange hats she was so fond of. I handed a regular customer her bag of homemade dog treats. She came in just about every day now to buy them with her chubby gray terrier.

  "No worries." Turning back to me, Charlie adjusted her skull cap. Pink streaked hair stuck out around the edges. "Besides, a girl's gotta eat. I'd be living on ramen noodles if you guys hadn't hired me. Speakin' of... you need to go get some lunch. Go." She bumped me playfully with her hip. "I got it from here."

  "All right. But, I'll be bringing back more than lunch today." I sighed as I grabbed my straw bag and sweater from under the counter. "Darwin's Pet Boutique is going to have a new mascot." Her eyebrow rose. "Long story," I added. Then I patted her arm and headed out to grab a taxi.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Right before closing time, Frankie popped in the boutique with Itty and Bitty, her two Chihuahuas. Frankie's a former homeless lady who won the lottery and she's also one of my best friends here in St. Pete.

  Charlie was ringing up Sarah Applebaum, our last customer.

  "Hey, Sarah and Charlie. Got some dessert here you gals are welcomed to," Frankie called.

  "Thanks but no thanks. Trying to watch my figure." Sarah patted her plump hips. "Divorce is almost final, and I plan on jumping in the dating pool."

  "I hear ya." Frankie dropped the box of goodies on the tea table by the window. "It's slim pickings out there, let me tell you. Just a bunch of crabs with too much baggage." Then she frowned at me. "You look tired, sugarplum. Rough day? Oh!" She spotted Goldie lying under the table, tongue hanging out, eyes searching the passersby relentlessly. "Hello. Who's this?"

  I sighed. "This is Goldie. Long story short, Will and I were on the pirate ship for Mike's wedding Saturday night and we fished her out of the ocean. Poor thing's owner was hit by a car and killed while walking her down by the pier—"

  "Shoot!" Frankie smacked the table. "I read about that in the paper. Victoria Desoto-Roth. I met her once at a fund raiser. So sad, she was a nice lady."

  "Oh, Victoria?" Sarah shook her head as she loaded up her arms with her bagged purchases. "She was a real sweetheart. So tragic. This is her dog?"

  "Yep. I'm keeping her for awhile. Maybe finding her a home so she can show again."

  "But, Victoria was married," Frankie said. "What about her husband? Doesn't he want her?"

  "No. He said Goldie just reminds him too much of his wife, and he's apparently devastated and can't handle seeing her. He wanted her given back to the kennel."

  Frankie's hand went to her hip. "Well, that's just crap. How does he think Goldie feels? Losing her mom and now her home?" Frankie shook her head. "Would he give up a child, too, if they had one?" She bent down and gave each of her dogs a treat from the bowl on the table. I noticed they were getting a bit plump. "Makes me so mad."

  "Don't even get me started." I opened the box she'd brought. The scent of cinnamon filled the boutique. "Cinnamon buns. You're killing me, Frankie." I expected Sylvia to appear as soon as the scent reached the back where she was cleaning up her grooming room. I pulled a sticky bun from the box and shook my head. "I guess we really shouldn't judge him. We have no idea what he can and can't handle emotionally. I mean, the man's wife just got killed. I don't think any of us know how we'd react or what we could handle."

  "I suppose you're right." Frankie grabbed a cup and poured hot water over a tea infuser filled with a new peach white tea. "This stuff smells heavenly." She took a big whiff of her cup and sighed. "I guess I've just been around too many people who lost everything and were still strong because they had to be. There was no other option."

  I knew she was thinking about the people she used to live with at Pirate City, the homeless camp. I'm sure she's seen more than her fair share of tragedy.

  "Well, good on you for taking care of her dog, Darwin," Sarah said. "Poor thing. All right, I gotta get Lady Elizabeth's food home before she starts gnawing on my couch pillows again."

  I went and opened the door for her. "Have a great evening, Sarah. Give Lady Elizabeth a kiss from us."

  "Will do. Bye, ladies."

  I locked the door behind her then leaned against it and kicked off the lovely suede heels Sylvia had bought me for Christmas. Looking down at my red, swollen toes, I decided I was going back to wearing flip flops. Fashion just wasn't worth it. I'd leave that to Sylvia.

  I grabbed a water bottle from under the counter and crawled under the table to pour some in the bowl I had placed next to Goldie. Then I stroked her gently around her shaved fur and checked her stitches. She whined and sniffed the water but didn't drink it.

  "She's been lying here all day looking out the window. I think she's looking for Victoria. How sad is that?"

  "Pretty damn sad," Frankie said.

  "Poor thing." Charlie straightened a stack of our new harness lined t-shirts. "So... did you get any info from Will? You know, about Victoria's death? Like did they find the hit and run driver?"

  "No, they're still investigating. Witnesses said it was a lady in a black sedan and she got out and went over to check Victoria, went through her backpack and then took off. That's all we know so far."

  "She didn't even call 911?" Frankie asked.

  "Nope. A guy docking his boat did." I shrugged. "And Will said there were no brake marks. So..."

  "Someone hit her on purpose?" Charlie froze. "Like murdered her?"

  "I don't know if I'd call it murder," I said, making some peach tea for myself. "Will seems to think it was something less premeditated. Like they were drunk and didn't want to get caught by calling the police."

  I could hear Sylvia's heels clicking on the wood floor as she came toward the front of the boutique. I smiled to myself.

  "Are those cinnamon buns that smell so heavenly?"

  "Yeah, you want to split one with me?" I teased.

  Her dark eyes sparkled. "Hola? Do you know me?" She laughed, digging a fat, gooey one out of the box and moaning as she took a bite.

  Frankie chuckled. "A girl after my own heart."

  "How's our new pup doing?" Sylvia asked after swallowing and peering under the table.

  "Still the same." I sipped my tea. "The flower essence isn't helping yet." I may have to resort to some magick before the poor thing stresses herself into a stroke.

  By the time we finished chatting and locked up, it was past eight o'clock.
The shops were closed but Beach Drive was hopping with restaurant-goers. Luckily, I lived in the townhouse right above our pet boutique, so I didn't have far to walk Goldie. Poor thing slunk down, glued to my leg, her eyes searching every face that passed us.

  "It's okay, Goldie. That's it," I cooed to her as I led her to the entrance. By the time we entered the townhouse, she was trembling again. I threw my bag, shoes and keys on the counter. She crouched down right inside the doorway and refused to budge, so I let her stay there and get adjusted to the place while I went to make her some food.

  "This will be your new home for a while, girl." I talked softly to her while I opened the can of prescription food Dr. Messing had recommended. "I know you're sad and confused, but I will do everything I can to make you feel better." I dug under the sink for the metal bowl I used for Karma when he lived here. Touching it brought back a flood of memories of him. I smiled. In the last photo his new family had emailed me, he was fat and happy with a big old goofy grin. Mad Dog would be happy to know what a good life he had now. I sighed. Still missed him, though. Such a gentle soul.

  "Okay, Goldie." I plopped the food into the bowl and added some kibble to it. "You've got to eat." I walked around to the front of the counter and placed it on the floor. Goldie dropped her head on the floor between her paws and stared up at me with the most haunted brown eyes I've ever seen on a creature. And then she spoke, an almost imperceptible whine. My heart tugged in my chest like someone had a string attached to it. I fell to the floor in front of her.

  "Oh, baby." I reached out and stroked a long, silky ear, tears suddenly pooling in my eyes. I blinked them back. "I can tell you and your mom loved each other very much, and I know you miss her. But, she would want you to eat, to survive." I lay down beside her and draped an arm over her. She might not be able to understand my words, but she could read my body language. I had to get her to trust me so we could work on her healing. I snuggled my face into her neck. "I'll stay right here with you until you're ready. I'm not leaving you."

  I awoke to darkness. My arm was asleep and I was freezing. What the...? I glanced around. Why was I lying on the floor by the front door? A scraping sound caught my attention. I craned my stiff neck to see the outline of a dog with its head in the metal bowl. Oh yeah. Goldie.

  "Good girl."

  I pushed myself off the floor with the arm that wasn't tingling like crazy and padded into the kitchen to get her some water. I added a few drops of honeysuckle and fringed violet flower essence, my recipe for grief, and quietly placed the bowl on the floor next to the one she was now licking clean.

  "That's a good girl, Goldie." I stroked her side, being mindful of her stitches, while she lapped at the water. "Your mom would be very proud of you." I glanced at the clock. One in the morning. "Okay, girl, let's get a few hours of sleep. Come on." I led her up the stairs and patted the bed. She hopped up and turned in a circle, finally settling down and looking at me with those sad eyes.

  I changed into an oversized t-shirt and crawled under the crisp, cool covers beside her, snuggling up next to her warm body. Every once in awhile, I felt her body tremble.

  "I wish you could give me more to go on." Victoria deserved to have some closure, some justice, and so did this poor creature now sharing my bed. I squeezed my eyes shut. No. Will was investigating. He had it covered and you promised him you'd try to stay out of trouble. Just go to sleep, Darwin.

  CHAPTER SIX

  "Come on lazy bones, you can't lie in bed all day." I had already meditated, showered and dressed, and Goldie hadn't moved from her curled up position on the bed. At least the shaking had stopped, that was something. "Well, I'm going downstairs and make us some breakfast. You come down when you're ready."

  I was out on the balcony checking on the flowers when a nose nudged the French door open wider and Goldie looked up at me.

  "Well, good morning, Miss Sunshine. Glad you decided to join me." I removed my cheesecloth glove and walked over to her. Kneeling down, I took her snout in my hands. "I don't think I've ever seen a sad golden retriever before." Her ears even drooped. I touched my nose to hers. Cool and wet. That was a good sign.

  "What am I going to do with you?" I mean, when I had to help Karma out of his funk that was one thing. Mastiffs always look sad and worried. Goldens though? They were the happy-go-lucky children of the dog world, with their beaming perma-smile and soul sparkle. "Come on; let's see if you touched your breakfast." I kissed her between her watery eyes and led her back to the kitchen. The food was half gone from her bowl. Another good sign. Feeling encouraged, I got ready for the day ahead.

  At the boutique, Goldie stuffed herself beneath the table once again, her nose pressed against the window. Looking for Victoria, no doubt. Broke my heart but at least the desperate panting had stopped.

  Frankie and her pups came in around lunchtime after Charlie arrived. I was ready for a break.

  "How's Goldie doing today?" She peered under the table before taking a seat and helping herself to tea. Itty and Bitty sniffed Goldie's backside with their tiny little noses and then sat down for their treats.

  "She did eat some this morning." I plopped down in the chair across from her and fixed my own tea. "But I think she's still watching for her momma to come get her."

  "I'm sure it'll just take her time. Time heals all they say." Frankie flipped open the morning paper. "Of course, a good massage helps, too."

  I didn't watch the news so Frankie's morning paper commentary was my only source of information about the world outside my little bubble. "Do they have dog masseuses?" I asked. That might be a good thing to bring to our boutique once a month. A dog masseuse.

  "Masseuses, acupuncturists, spas, you name it," a customer in line chimed in. "Pet pampering is a big business."

  "Interesting. Well, Goldie here was a show dog, so she probably got the royal treatment," I said.

  Frankie refolded the paper. "Speaking of, says there's a dog show on Saturday at Azalea Park."

  "I used to show bichons," a petite woman with short curly hair offered. "But, the atmosphere in the show world is too cutthroat. Just lost its appeal for me."

  "Yeah, I've heard how competitive those folks get." Frankie took off her reading glasses. "Remember that really pretty white dog a little while back that died from rat poisoning a few days after competing at Westminster? So tragic."

  I stared at her in horror. "Someone poisoned a dog because of a dog show?"

  "Westminster isn't just any dog show."

  "Still!" I rubbed my arms for comfort.

  Frankie nodded. "You never know what people are capable of."

  Just then a customer was entering and held the door open wide for Jeanie as she was leaving. Goldie suddenly scooted backwards from beneath the table and scrambled to the door, bolting through it before poor Jeanie could get out a gasp.

  "Goldie!" I cried, jumping off the chair and running through the door after her. Where did she go? I scanned the sidewalk to the left, then right. Crowds were already milling about, too thick to spot her. I ran across the street, between stopped traffic and into North Straub Park. Turning in circles, panic and frustration tied my insides up in knots. How could a dog disappear so quickly? What if she gets hit by a car? She was still operating in anxiety mode so she wouldn't be acting like a normal dog.

  Frankie was waving to me across the street. Defeated, I made my way back over to her.

  "Hey, sugar, I know you can't leave the boutique right now, so I'll drive around and look for her. She couldn't have gotten far."

  "Okay. Thanks, Frankie." I gave the area one more scan.

  "I'm so sorry, Darwin," a devastated Jeanie said as I came back into the boutique.

  I gave her a quick reassuring hug. "It's all right. You go on. I'm sure we'll find her."

  Frankie kept me updated by text which areas she was searching. I was trying not to think about what would happen if Linda decided to call me for a home visit before I had found Goldie. Oh yeah, sure. We'll
let you adopt a prize-winning golden retriever you've already let run away to god-knows-where. Not.

  Two hours had crawled by without luck when my phone vibrated with a number I didn't recognize. "Hello?"

  "Is this Darwin Winters?"

  "Yes?"

  "My name is Eugene Roth. Linda over at Baywater Kennel gave me your number. I... um... she told me you had picked up Goldie and well, she's here. I just got home and found her on the front porch. Can you come get her?"

  I had stopped in the middle of typing a customer's phone number into the computer. So many thoughts and emotions were assaulting me I couldn't get a handle on a single one.

  "Miss Winters?"

  She had gone home? My heart dropped like a rock into my stomach. Poor, grieving soul. I squeezed the collar I was ringing up and closed my eyes. "I'm here. Yes. I'll come get her after I close my pet boutique. I know where you live." I hung up and stared at my palm. The diamond pattern from the collar's hardware was stamped onto it. Tears filled my eyes. "Unbelievable."

  "Everything all right?" Mr. Keller asked, his ancient, yellowed eyes peering at me with compassion under unruly white brows.

  I swiped at my eyes with the back of my hand. "Sure. Yeah. Fine." I really had to concentrate hard to finish the transaction. "I just wonder how some people can walk around without a heart. Thought that was kind of a requirement for being a human being."

  Mr. Keller smiled knowingly. "Known plenty of heartless humans in my time. I'm sure there's a special place in hell for 'em." He chuckled.

  I gave him a thankful smile as I handed him his purchase. "Well, you're definitely not one of them, Mr. Keller. You have yourself a great day, now."

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  It wasn't difficult to find Eugene's house again. As the cab pulled up, I thought about the night Victoria died and how I had sat in the driveway while Will notified Eugene that his wife wouldn't be coming home. My skin warmed at the thought of Will. He acted so tough sometimes, but the man had secret stores of compassion it was a real privilege to witness.