Of Birds and Beagles

by Leslie O'Kane

  “Thus endeth my career as a professional dog runner.”

  Malcolm joined us, Fang a step behind. “I thought you were planning on competing in the event yourself,” I said to him.

  He shrugged. “Fang’s a little off today.”

  “Off?” I repeated, looking at the Doberman.

  “Yeah. I think he must have eaten something that didn’t agree with him. Too much grass or something.”

  Fang was, indeed, swaying on his feet and hanging his head as if half asleep. I quickly dropped to my knees to examine him up close. “His breathing seems labored, and he’s lethargic.”

  “Oh, Geez. Maybe it’s heat stroke,” Malcolm said, sounding sincerely worried.

  “I’m not a vet, but it seems more like—” His wording from a moment ago now struck a chord. “Wait. When you said ‘too much grass’ a minute ago, did you mean ‘grass’ as in green grass, or ‘grass’ as in marijuana?”

  “He was eating real grass.”

  I straightened and stared up into Malcolm’s eyes. He was slurring his words, and his eyelids were heavy. “You’re stoned. I think Fang is, too. Are you sure you didn’t leave edibles around where Fang could have gotten into them?”

  “No way.” Despite his words, I saw a flash of recognition on his face that let me know he’d realized I could be right.

  “Damn it, Malcolm!” Jana said. “Did you leave a pot-brownie on the coffee table again?”

  “Again?” Malcolm said. “It was your brownie!”

  Suddenly Jana looked as if she was seething with anger. “It was most certainly not my brownie! You’re getting your girlfriends confused, Malcolm. Kelsey was the pothead. I never touch the stuff. Remember?”

  He winced. “Sorry, babe.”

  “You need to take Fang to his vet to be on the safe side,” I told Malcolm. “You did hear about the laced brownies that cost Kelsey her life, right?”

  “Figures you’d know all about that,” Malcolm grumbled.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Trust me,” he replied. “Fang didn’t eat a brownie of any kind. I’d know. When Kelsey gave him one that time, he was crapping on all the carpets.”

  “Nice visual, Malcolm,” Jana said, rolling her eyes. “But he’s right, of course.”

  I nodded. Dogs’ physical reactions to eating chocolate were fairly universal.

  “I’ll take him to the doc,” Malcolm said. “His office is just up the street. I don’t want my dog to eat brownies. They make him sick as a dog.”

  “Are you okay to drive?” Jana asked him.

  “Yes! Geez! You’d think I was drooling all over myself! I had one tiny hit!”

  As soon as he was out of earshot, I asked, “Is there any chance Kelsey’s brownies found a way into your home?”

  “No. I don’t have brownies of any kind in my house. I have gluten allergies. Malcolm must have gotten a hold of one someplace and, by the time he indulged, forgot it was his. And as we can both see,” she paused and gestured at Fang and Malcolm in the distance, “the dog is acting more like he’s stoned, than that he ate sleeping pills.”

  “Malcolm was glaring at me earlier with open contempt. Did I do something to offend him?”

  Jana grimaced. “Not exactly. He’s been overly protective of me lately. He thinks I should stay away from anyone linked to the murders.”

  “He sounds like Russ. And my mom.” I paused. “So that’s what he meant by saying I’d know about the poisonous brownies? He thinks I gave them to Kelsey?”

  “He thinks it’s suspicious that you were the one who found Shirley’s body.” She shrugged. “He thinks you were there swapping out brownies, and Shirley caught you in the act.”

  “What!? That’s not true!”

  “Of course it isn’t. But he’s the kind of person who gets a theory in his head and just believes it till the day he dies.”

  “So...he thinks Kelsey killed Shirley, and I killed Kelsey to avenge her death or something? I’d only met Shirley once.”

  “He thinks you hated Kelsey and wanted her out of your and Russ’s lives.”

  “We’d scheduled that training session with your puppies tomorrow. Is he going to want to be a chaperone, to make sure I don’t attack you?”

  “No, I think he’ll be fine.”

  * * *

  Later that evening, catching up on paperwork at my office, I found myself in no hurry to go home. I’d brought the dogs with me, and Mom was giving someone a flying lesson. While it was true that I had plenty of invoices to keep myself busy, I couldn’t stop daydreaming. I was hoping that Russell would miss me and come back to the office, and that he’d see how angelic my dogs were and discover magically that he was no longer frightened of these two amazing dogs.

  In spite of myself I jumped when someone noisily descended the steps and Malcolm appeared at my door, suddenly pounding on the glass. Both of my dogs launched into a barking fit.

  I clicked my tongue twice to catch their attention. They both fell silent, but Pavlov’s hackles were raised. Worried that Fang might be seriously ill, I tried to calm myself and unlocked the door. He immediately pushed it open, and I stepped back. “What’s up, Malcolm? Is Fang okay?”

  “Just saw the light on and thought I’d stop by. Fang is fine.” He reeked of alcohol and cigarette smoke. His stance was a little wobbly.

  “Good. I’m glad.” I was also scared.

  “Hey, buddy,” he said to Pavlov. “Fine animal you got there. Really fast.” He chuckled and pointed at Doppler with his chin. “It was kind of funny to see your punk-sized dog trying to keep up.”

  “Pint-sized, you mean?”

  “Seems you were right. Fang got into my stash. Just as well. I like whiskey better anyway.”

  “I can tell. You smell like a distillery. Do you need me to call a cab for you?” I tried to hide my fear at being alone with him in his impaired condition. I didn’t want to give him any ideas.

  “Nah. I got a buddy that can give me a ride.” He peered at Russ’s closed door. “You work awful late. Especially for a Sunday.”

  “My weekends are typically my busiest work days. My dog owner clients are usually at home.”

  He walked over to Russell’s door and tried in vain to turn the locked knob. “Jana?” he said. “You in there?”

  “Jana’s not here.”

  Malcolm swayed a little and nearly fell over. He was more intoxicated than I’d first thought. “Did you find anyone that wants a parrot that barks like a dog? He makes for a badass watch dog.”

  “Compared to most birds, I suppose. I’m thinking your average canary wouldn’t be an effective guardian, for instance.”

  “Kelsey was mean as shit to Fang. And she used to think it was hilarious when she got Magoo high. I should’ve gotten away from her a long time ago. The chick was bad news.”

  I felt my pocket to make sure that my cell phone was there. I was struggling mightily to act confident, but I doubted I could keep it up much longer. “I’m going to go ahead and call Yellow Cab—”

  “But you still had no right. You need to stay away from me and Jana. I know you think you’ve got me and her fooled, but you’re wrong.”

  “I didn’t kill Kelsey, Malcolm, if that’s what you mean.”

  “Jana’s gotta stop thinking I’m going to dump her. She’s all hung up on being eight years older than me. But she’s the same age as Kelsey. I don’t mind more mature women. They’re hotter in bed.”

  “This is not an appropriate topic of conversation, Malcolm. You need to leave, so I can get back to work.”

  “No problem. Just tell me where Jana is. We had a spat. A little bit ago. She said she was heading over here.”

  “She must have changed her mind. I’ve been here for four hours, and she’s not here.”

  “I’ll just go check the restroom.” He tried the back door, which was locked.

  “The only bathroom is shared by the main lobby of the building, and it’s only open during regular bus
iness hours.” That last part about the restroom being locked was a lie, but I did happen to have left the back door locked. I pointed at the glass door to the office. “Go check the door to the lobby. It’s locked. Jana couldn’t have gotten in.”

  “I’m not that stupid. I go out this door, and you’re going to lock it behind me.”

  Drat. In truth I had hoped that he was that stupid.

  He pounded on Russ’s office. “Jana?” he hollered. “You in there, babe?” Pavlov started to growl. Doppler started barking. I wasn’t about to hush them.

  “She isn’t here, and she hasn’t contacted me since the race this afternoon.”

  “Then where’d she go?”

  “I have no idea. Have you tried calling her cell phone and asking where she is?”

  “Good idea. I’ll hear it ringing if you two are in cahoots and hiding her from me.” He listened for the ring, his ear pressed to the door.

  “She’s not here, Malcolm. Please go. Now!”

  “Dammit. I must be drawn to crazy women. Or else I make them crazy.” He leered at me. “You want me to make you crazy?”

  “No. I want you to leave my office. Immediately. Otherwise I’m going to call the police.”

  “What for?”

  “To tell them that I’m feeling unsafe around you.”

  “Geez! I had a couple of drinks. I ain’t threatening to rape you or nothin’. I just want to know where Jana is.”

  “Pavlov will attack you if you so much as touch me.” I grabbed my phone. “Malcolm, go outside and wait on the steps. I’ll call you a cab.”

  He chuckled. “Fine. You call me a cab. I’ll call you a nosy bitch. Stay the hell away from Jana. Otherwise, I really am gonna hurt you.”

  I grabbed my phone and keyed in 911. “That does it.” I hesitated before hitting send.

  “Hey! I’m leaving, already! You don’t have to call the police.”

  He left, weaving slightly. I threw the deadbolt afterward. Through the window, I watched his feet as he made his somewhat staggered course up the sidewalk. I breathed a sigh of relief.

  “It’s okay, guys,” I said to the dogs, giving each of them a hug. “He’s gone.”

  After mulling the situation for a few minutes, I found Sergeant Neustrom’s card and called his extension. When he answered, I gave him a detailed description of my minor altercation with Malcolm.

  “Did he say anything else that was incriminating—other than his discussing marijuana brownies? Anything about Shirley Thorpe or Kelsey Minerva?” he asked.

  “No. He honestly didn’t do or say anything other than exactly what I told you. If I had to summarize it, he acted vaguely menacing toward me. That’s all. According to Jana, he thinks I’m the killer, and that that’s why he wants Jana to stay away from me.”

  “Okay. Thanks. I am going to go have a conversation with Mr. Norfolk. I’ll see if he has anything else to say for himself. I won’t tell him about your having called me, though. Even so, if you start to feel nervous about this...unsafe in any way, don’t hesitate to call me again. I mean that. Don’t start telling yourself that you’re overreacting, or that you’re bothering me needlessly. That’s what we’re here for—protecting citizens.”

  While listening to him, I managed to fasten the leashes on the dogs’ collars. “Thank you. I will.”

  “And if you think of anything you want to add, call me.”

  “Thank you, Sergeant. I will.” I unlocked the door and let myself and the dogs out. “I’m sure I’ll be fine. I’m not completely unprotected anyway. I’ve got my dogs with me. In retrospect, I think I overreacted.” I locked the door and started up the steps.

  “That’s precisely what I was talking about, Ms. Babcock. Remember how I told you specifically that I didn’t want you to assume you were overreacting?”

  I chuckled. “What? You mean twenty seconds ago? Isn’t that asking a lot of my powers of retention?”

  He chuckled, too. “I’m just making sure you meant what you said. For the record, as police officers, we believe in overreacting. After all, our basic rule of thumb when investigating crimes is: ‘Assume everyone is lying’.”

  “That’s not especially comforting for us witnesses,” I replied, trotting up the steps.

  “If it’s any consolation, you’re not high on our list of suspects.”

  “I’d prefer not being on the list at all.” Pavlov and Doppler rushed ahead of me and began barking, which was odd. “Hang on a sec,” I said into the phone. I unlocked my car door with my fob. The halo of interior light from my car illuminated what I’d assumed was just a shadow from the nearby bush. A man was sitting on the pavement alongside the front tire. To my horror, I realized it was Malcolm, and that he had a rifle lying across his lap.

  He rose. “Boo!” Malcolm said.

  I gripped the leashes tighter and cried into the phone. “Malcolm’s still here and has a gun!”

  Chapter 24

  Terrified that Malcolm would shoot my dogs, I dropped my phone while trying to get both hands on the leashes to pull them back.

  He chuckled. “Relax, girlie. You look like I scared the crap out of you! Exactly like you deserve! Good thing I keep my gun in my truck. Let’s you know that I mean business. And I need to know where Jana is. Now!”

  “That was a police officer on the phone. He’ll be here any moment.” I looked at my phone, hoping the sergeant was able to hear every word.

  He shouted a curse word at me. “You didn’t need to call the cops on me! Now you’re forcing my hand!”

  “Put the gun down. Before the police shoot first and ask questions later.”

  “I’m not a killer, Allie. You are.”

  “No, I’m not. Someone else killed Kelsey and Shirley.”

  A police siren resounded in the distance.

  “Cripes! You really did call the police! You freakin’ bitch!”

  Pavlov and Doppler continued to bark at the top of their lungs. I didn’t want to release them; I’d never been in this position before and didn’t know what they’d do. I knew Pavlov would attack if I commanded him to do so.

  Malcolm staggered a little as he turned around, but then started running down the alley, carrying his rifle in both hands. My heart hammered in my chest as I watched him turn the corner. He was running north on Broadway’s sidewalk and was quite likely going to cause an accident when drivers on the heavily trafficked street saw him coming.

  I braced myself for the squeal of tires. None came. The sirens grew even louder as two police cars neared. Moving to the sidewalk, I commanded the dogs to sit. I trotted up to the first patrol car as it pulled up; Sergeant Neustrom was driving. He rolled down his window.

  “He was waiting for me with a rifle in his hands when I was talking to you on the phone. I told him you were coming, and he ran down the alley, then north on Broadway.”

  “Return to your office. We’ll get another officer out here to speak with you ASAP.”

  * * *

  Yet another long night in Boulder, due to the whole sorry mess with Malcolm. Within an hour of searching, the police had him under arrest. He’d been hiding about five blocks away from my office, in a homeowner’s garage on Maxwell Street. As Sergeant Newcomb described it to me, Malcolm had left his rifle leaning against a tree trunk in the front yard. While lying on his back, he’d started to shove his way under the garage door, but had gotten stuck. He passed out, with his legs sticking out. The homeowners had discovered him, at first thinking it was prank and that neighborhood kids had stuffed a pair of jeans and shoes to make it look like someone was lying flat in the opening of their garage. They’d notified the police when they realized it was an actual person.

  My interview with Sergeant Neustrom took hours. Worried about Jana, due to Malcolm’s drunken ravings about her, I called her afterward, even though it was nearly midnight. She sounded wide awake when she answered, but I apologized anyway for the hour. “Malcolm was pretty incoherent,” I explained, “and I couldn’t tell
for sure that you were someplace safe. From what I gathered, it sounded like you’d had a big argument.”

  “It wasn’t all that big. And, yes, I’m perfectly fine. Malcolm’s solid muscle, but he’d never hurt a fly. I just got mad at him because he was so drunk. So I got his keys to his truck away from him to make damned sure he wouldn’t drive, and I went home.”

  “How did he get ahold of a rifle?”

  “He jimmied the lock.” She sighed. “I assumed he was sober enough to call a cab, but I guess not. I still have no idea why he kept insisting I was with you. He saw me walk off with his car keys, and I told him I was going home.”

  “He called you from my office.”

  “My cell phone battery died. They’re letting him sleep it off overnight in the jail. It’ll be fine. I already contacted a lawyer friend. He said he’d make it clear to the judge and everybody else that nothing Malcolm says tonight...when he’s three sheets to the wind...is admissible.”

  “Uh huh,” I murmured, not sure what to think about Malcolm.

  “Again, Allie, I’m sorry he’s got it stuck in his head that you’re guilty of the killings. I’ve assured him many times that I can see what a nice person you are. He just doesn’t want to listen.”

  “I can tell that he can be hard-headed.”

  “Definitely. But he was telling you the truth about not intending to shoot you.”

  “That would have been much easier for me to believe if he hadn’t been waiting for me with a gun in his hand.”

  “Obviously. He was just drunk out of his skull.” She paused. “I’m exhausted, Allie. I’ll pick you up tomorrow for our outing with the dogs.”

  I hesitated, surprised that she was still up for that and uncertain if I still wanted to go. Jana really needed a friend right now, though. “Okay. Let me know if anything comes up. Otherwise, I’ll see you at one o’clock.”

  She hung up without saying goodbye, giving me the distinct opinion that she wasn’t all that supportive of my part in putting her boyfriend in jail.

  * * *

  I brought both Pavlov and Doppler with me to work the following morning. For one thing, I wanted Pavlov’s protection in case Malcolm was released and immediately headed to my office for yet another confrontation. For another thing, I knew Russell wouldn’t be in the office today, so I needed their company.