by Paula Lester
“Sure. I need to get this little one back to her kennel, though. Want to walk with me?”
He nodded, and we edged our way through the crowd, which had returned to its pre-loose-dog levels of noise. I kept an eye out for Crosby as we made our way to the hallway that would lead us to the kennels, but I didn’t see any sign of him.
It took longer than it should have for us to escape the madness of the atrium and find ourselves in the deserted hallway, but we made it. As soon as we were alone, Korbin started speaking. “Dr. Morgan, I don’t know what else to do. I have to just tell you outright. I can’t take it anymore.”
I stopped and turned to face my technician, goosebumps popping up on my arms. Was he about to confess to Arthur Wiggins’ murder?
He wrung his hands and kept shifting his weight. Finally, he blurted out as fast as he could, “My ex-girlfriend, Angelique Johnson, killed Mr. Wiggins.”
Chapter 18
I held up a hand to stop Korbin. “Hold on.” I walked several feet down the hallway and stuck my head through an open doorway. It was a tiny empty conference room. I motioned Korbin to follow me in, shut the door behind us, and put Rosalie on the floor. The dog promptly began moving around the perimeter of the space, nose to the ground, presumably sniffing up the traces of folks who’d used the room recently.
Korbin and I sat across from each other at the short rectangular table in the center of the room.
I regarded him closely, eager to get to the bottom of why he’d been acting so weird. “Why do you think Angelique killed Arthur?”
Korbin put his head in his hands for a second and then scrubbed his hair with all ten fingers. When he looked at me again, his locks stuck out at all angles, reminding me of a crazy clown. “The day before he died, Angie and I went to dinner. I’ve been trying to get her back, but I may as well have not wasted my time.” He shook his head. For the first time, I realized how haggard he looked. The skin on his face appeared drawn, pinched, and pale. He wasn’t taking care of himself.
I didn’t want to interrupt his train of thought, so I fought the urge to use my boss voice and ask him if he’d been eating, sleeping, and hydrating properly. I bit my tongue. Rosalie sat next to my feet and leaned into my leg. I had the fleeting thought that I should have returned her to the kennel before talking to Korbin. Her handler or owner might be missing her.
“We went to the Grill for dinner, and Angie was super agitated. She was talking about Arthur and how mean he was to Jackson. Said Jackson couldn’t afford another rent hike and might end up homeless because of ‘that jerk.’” He used air quotes on the last two words. “I tried to get her to quiet down. She’d had a glass of wine and was getting loud. Saying all kinds of stuff about Arthur, including that she hoped he suffered some kind of fatal accident.” He stopped and swallowed hard before looking at me beseechingly. “I didn’t know what to do. I tried talking sense into her, but she wasn’t interested in listening. She just got mad at me and made me take her home. Then, the next morning . . .” He stumbled to a halt and waved a hand vaguely.
“The next morning, Arthur died in my waiting room,” I finished.
He nodded. “I thought of Angie right away. I’ve been trying to keep tabs on her since then—following her to make sure she doesn’t get into more trouble. She’s talking about getting rid of Dr. Miller so she can live with Jackson. I’m worried she’s going to poison him too.” He winced, and it looked like he was in physical pain.
“Why didn’t you go to the police?” I reached down to ruffle Rosalie’s ears absently.
He shook his head. “I just didn’t think I had enough evidence. And I was afraid I’d get in trouble too. For knowing Angie had made threats but not going to the cops immediately.” He stared at his hands, which he wrung on the table in front of him. “So, I did something else to try and get the information to authorities.”
“What?”
He still didn’t make eye contact, and his voice got so low I had to hold my breath to hear him. “I know you’re friends with Crosby Patterson. So, I tried to let you know about Angelique, so you could tell him.” He finally looked me in the eye. “You know, by using your special gift.”
Alarm bells rang in my mind. I fought to keep my expression steady, not wanting to give anything away if he wasn’t talking about what I thought he was.
But then he removed all doubt by saying, “I adopted the beagle puppy from the pound, told him about Angie, and asked him to tell you. Then I snuck over to your house and left him on the porch.” Confusion covered his features. “It didn’t work, though, did it?”
I shook my head slowly, wondering if I should act dumb. But something inside me gave a jolt. I didn’t want to deny it. I was a little tired of hiding it. “How did you know I can understand animals?”
“I saw you doing it once. You didn’t know I was there. I was in the hallway behind the exam rooms, and you were in the treatment area. You said something to one of the patients and he just . . . answered you. I mean, I only heard a woof and a growl, but then you answered something else back, and the dog made noise again. It was clearly a conversation. You asked him where it hurt, and he made more noises. When it was over, you prescribed medication. It was clear to me you’d used what he said to help you diagnose him.” He shrugged. “It seemed crazy, but I couldn’t deny what I saw and heard. In two days, that dog was completely better.”
I pressed my lips together and nodded. “Okay. Well, there’s one thing you didn’t know, and that’s the fact that puppies can’t communicate right away. They’re like human babies. So, you telling Dragon what to say to me was worthless. He couldn’t repeat it to me even if he wanted to.”
Korbin blew out a breath and slumped back in the chair. “So, that’s why.”
“Yep. That’s why.” I scooped up Rosalie, stood, and headed for the door. “I have to get her back to the kennel. Why don’t you come with me?”
He got up, and I noticed he seemed lighter. Less haggard. Like getting that off his chest had been as good for him as a full night’s sleep. “So, are you going to tell Mr. Patterson about Angie?”
I grinned as I opened the door and headed into the hallway. “I think I’ll do one better than that.”
WHEN WE GOT TO THE kennel, it was strangely empty. I’d expected the big room to be bustling with activity—people looking for Rosalie. I walked down the aisle, looking for the one the Westie belonged in and finally finding it near the end on my left side.
But when I opened the gate and moved to put her in, Rosalie tried to scramble up my chest onto my shoulder again. “No! Don’t put me in there. I’ll die.”
“Shh, stop,” I ordered the dog. She stilled but shivered in my arms. “What are you talking about? Why will you die in your run?”
“The lady. She had poison. She poured it in my water, but I knew from the smell that I shouldn’t drink it. I got past her legs before she could close my kennel door back up.” Rosalie shivered again. “Just smell my water bowl. You’ll see!”
Not only was I not convinced I’d be able to detect the odor Rosalie was talking about, but I also didn’t want to waste time sniffing the dog’s bowl. If someone had poisoned Rosalie’s water, she may have done it to other dogs. And who knew if they had the same nose sensitivity as the little white dog.
I looked up and down the two rows of kennels. “We have to get the food and water out of the runs,” I told Korbin. “Some of it may be poisoned. We can’t let any of the dogs eat or drink anything.”
He looked confused. “Angie wouldn’t poison dogs. She loves animals.”
I thought of the chipmunk under the bench. Mike Gentry had tried to kick him, but Angelique had distracted him to save the poor thing. I shook my head. “There’s no time.”
Korbin was already moving, heading into the run closest to him to remove the bowls. But there were so many of them. By the time he and I went into and out of each kennel, half an hour or more could go by. A dog might eat or drink something by then.<
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No, I had to get this done another way. I whirled around, searching for a trash can but didn’t see one immediately. I started opening the footlockers at the end of the runs, one after the other, to look for a big trash bag. The second one I yanked open was full of bottles of chemicals. I paused and pulled one out. It wasn’t anything that would be used to wash a dog. I put the bottle back. There were two more like it plus smaller glass bottles without labels. I glanced up to see whose kennel it was, even though I knew what I was going to find.
I slammed the locker shut and whirled around. There. There was a floor-to-ceiling cabinet at the end of the aisle by the door. I ran to it and pulled out a trash bag. Then I whirled around to face the room, lifted a hand, thought hard about what I wanted to happen, and watched as food and water dishes rose from each kennel—one pulling its way right out of Korbin’s hand—and floated over to upend themselves into the bag I held open.
In less than a minute, I’d removed all of the bowls. I’d just started to tie up the bag in my hands when I heard a voice behind me say, “Willow?”
I whirled around. In the doorway to the kennel room stood Aly, Julia, and Crosby. They all looked a shade paler than their normal complexions, and they all had mouths slightly agape. My own mouth worked, but words didn’t come out.
Korbin exited the run he was in, locked it behind him, and then scooped up Rosalie from where she sat in the aisle. As my friends and I stared at each other in silence, the technician carried the Westie to her own kennel and put her in. With the poison gone, she went in willingly.
“What was that?” Crosby’s voice was thin, like he was barely containing something. Fear? Anger? I wasn’t sure.
“That was . . . well, that was something I can do. I have some . . . special abilities I was born with.”
“Like magic?” Aly’s voice was stronger than Crosby’s. She looked more excited than upset. “Are you a . . . witch or something?”
“Or something. Yes.” I stepped forward but came to a halt when Crosby stepped back. Pain shot through my gut. “I’m sorry. I’m not dangerous or anything. I don’t usually do stuff like that.” I gestured vaguely at the room to indicate the telekinesis I’d performed. “I mainly use it to understand and be understood by animals.”
“Woah. That’s a cool trick.” Julia looked impressed. “No wonder you’re such a fantastic vet. You should tell Dr. Miller so he can stop feeling inadequate.”
“He feels inadequate?” I was baffled by the entire conversation. It felt surreal. The last thing I’d expected to happen that day was that I would out myself to all my childhood friends.
Crosby’s expression was dark. “You’ve had this . . . ability . . . your whole life?” he said. “And you never told us? Your best friends.”
The note of betrayal in his voice tore at me. Guilt washed over me. “I’m sorry. I just didn’t . . .”
Julia put a hand on Crosby’s arm. “I don’t think she meant to hurt us. She probably felt, I don’t know, nervous or something. Oh! Or maybe she’s not allowed to tell people. There could be rules.”
I wanted to tell them there weren’t really any rules. I just hadn’t wanted them to think differently of me. To be afraid of me. But I couldn’t seem to get my throat to make any noise.
And Crosby was shaking his head anyway. “Whatever. We don’t have time for this right now. We have a killer to catch.”
I nodded sharply, feeling pain at the thought that Crosby was going to stay mad at me for a while. Maybe forever. “About that,” I said, gesturing toward my technician, who stood silently behind me. “I had a good talk with Korbin, and I think I have a plan to expose Arthur’s murderer.”
Chapter 19
“All you have to do is get her to say she did it,” I said.
Korbin winced. “That’s easier said than done.”
I nodded sympathetically. “It’ll work. Just get her angry. You’re her ex-boyfriend, so you should know how to make Angelique mad, right?” Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Aly and Julia at their table. Aly was showing Dory Weston a bunch of carnations she’d fashioned into an adorable dog face, but the older woman wasn’t paying attention. She was not-so-subtly eavesdropping on Korbin and me.
Perfect.
Returning my attention to Korbin, I spoke a bit louder. “I know you can do this. Just poke at her until she erupts. We’ll be here to back you up.” I nodded toward where Crosby stood, arms crossed, next to the nearest entry into the arena. He didn’t look at us, but he certainly looked ready to jump in once Korbin got Angelique to confess to Arthur’s murder. I caught a glimpse of blonde hair through the crowd. “There she is. Go!” I gave Korbin a small nudge toward Angelique, who had just emerged from the hallway leading to the kennel.
With another whine, Korbin headed toward his ex, shuffling as though his shoes weighed twenty pounds each.
I flicked my eyes toward Dory and gave an internal cheer when I saw she’d abandoned Aly and Julia’s table and was rushing past Crosby into the arena.
So far, so good.
Korbin seemed like he was walking through molasses to get to Angelique. Nervous energy poured through my body, and I chewed the inside of my lip and tapped a foot to let some out.
People began to trickle out of the arena into the atrium, by ones and twos at first, but soon there was a group of people streaming past Crosby. Having done what I’d expected her to do and gathered everyone to watch the show, Dory was the caboose, re-entering the atrium just as Korbin got to Angelique and said, “Angie, I need to talk to you.”
The blonde regarded her ex with a cool expression. “I’m really busy. Can’t this wait?”
Korbin shook his head. “No. You’ve been putting me off for days. It can’t wait longer.”
She swung her long hair over a shoulder and crossed her arms. “Fine. Talk fast.”
The atrium was noticeably more packed than it had been, as the arena seemed to have emptied out into it. However, the noise level was unusually low for the number of people. Predictably, Dory had spread the word fast, and everyone’s eyes and ears were on the couple.
Korbin seemed not to notice as he pushed ahead. “I know you killed Arthur. You have to turn yourself in. It’s over.”
Angelique lifted her chin. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
He shook his head. “No. I’m not listening to any more dodging from you. You hated Arthur, and you didn’t like how he was treating your new boyfriend, so you used your chemistry skills to get rid of him. Anyone who has been within ten feet of you lately has heard you say you don’t care that he’s dead. I’m surprised you haven’t already been arrested.”
I glanced at Crosby, still at his spot next to the arena doorway. He rested a hand on the butt of the gun in his belt but didn’t move forward.
Angelique dropped her hands to her sides, balling them into fists. “I’m so tired of you! Why can’t you just accept that we’re done and stay out of my business?” She was getting louder, and a low murmur went up from the crowd. “What if I did kill Arthur? I bet most people in Superior Bay are glad he’s gone. People are probably thanking me.”
Murmurs rose again in the crowd, and the energy level ramped up considerably. Heads swiveled toward Crosby, who leaned forward slightly but still didn’t step toward the arguing couple.
I felt my muscles tensing for action too, even though there was nothing for me to do but watch and see how it all unfolded.
Korbin’s tone was sad, and his shoulders slumped. “I thought I knew you, Angie. I really did. But I had no idea you were capable of this.”
She stomped her foot. “Capable of what, exactly? Being loyal to my boyfriend and trying to help him not get thrown out on the street?” She shook her head. “I can’t believe you aren’t glad Arthur Wiggins is gone. I heard your employer is suffering because of Arthur’s rent hikes.”
I couldn’t keep the scowl off my face. That hit too close to home. I glanced at Crosby, but it was like he’d grown roots in that spot.
Korbin shrugged. “That doesn’t mean I’d want someone dead. I’m not a bad person.”
Her face twisted into a sneer. “Whose job is it to decide who’s a good person and who’s a bad one? Because, the way I see it, Arthur was the bad person, and this town is better off without him.”
I glanced toward Crosby again, starting to wonder if things were going to go the way we’d planned. He still wasn’t moving.
But then I caught a glimpse of something near his feet. In the next instant, Rosalie was beside me. She jumped up so her front feet were on my leg. I scooped her into my arms. “It’s time. She’s in there,” she said.
Over the dog’s head, I made eye contact with Crosby and nodded. He whirled around, and I moved as fast as I could to enter the arena half a step behind him.
He pulled out his gun and shouted, “Stop right there! Put your hands up.”
I had to crane my neck to see around him because he’d planted his feet shoulder-length apart and generally stood as though trying to make himself look as large as possible.
At the abandoned judge’s table, Delilah Stroves stared at Crosby with wide eyes. She held a blue bottle directly over the water glass I’d left at my spot after the first round of judging. The place I’d sat and purposely judged her dog Sadie low after Crosby noticed in the show records that Arthur had been judging her dogs low for years.
And it had worked. Not just the trigger for Delilah to attempt to poison me too, but also the harebrained idea I’d had about getting the arena emptied out by putting a bug in Dory’s ear that Korbin was going to get Angelique to publicly declare she’d killed Arthur. It had done the trick and given Delilah the opportunity to come in and incriminate.
