Three Woofs for the Dead, White and Blue

by Laura Quinn

  During the ample breakfast, the main topic of conversation among the humans was how they missed Lydia as the main suspect, and specifically, how she killed Larry. The dogs were far more interested in the passing of the bacon plate.

  “I checked all the neighbors’ footage myself,” Bob said. “Lydia was not at that house until after Larry was dead and his body taken away. She must have sent something to him. Maybe another box of poisoned chocolates?”

  “His stomach contents were empty, though,” Marti said.

  “So, she must have been there to plant or take away evidence,” Claire speculated.

  “Finding that bag of cherry pits must have been like Christmas in July for Lydia,” Nick said.

  “Everyone knows Traci makes those pads as fundraising items,” Marti said. “Lydia had to figure there would be a supply of pits at the house.”

  “That’s probably why she chose cyanide in the first place,” Bob said.

  Claire thought about everything Lydia said the night before. “Maybe she planned to delete Larry’s files.”

  Marti called Traci to try to get answers. Skipping the niceties, the attorney stuck to direct questions about Lydia’s visit.

  “Traci insists she was with her the whole time, which was about twenty minutes,” Marti reported to the group. “Lydia cut a slice of cake so that Traci would eat something to keep up her strength.”

  “She must have been trying to poison Traci,” Nick guessed.

  “They both ate it, so I don’t think so,” Marti said. “As we know, Traci was very upset and Lydia offered a shoulder to cry on while advising her to lie to the police.”

  “Maybe Lydia was just there to make Traci look more guilty,” Bob said.

  “It still doesn’t make sense. Why would Lydia physically go there? She could have simply called Traci,” Claire said. “Is she sure nothing was taken?”

  “As sure as she can be, considering the circumstances,” Marti said. “Well, technically, Lydia did take something, but Traci gave it to her. She volunteered to make the deposit for the senior dog rescue.”

  Nick banged his fist on the table. “That damn woman said she was hard-up for money, but stealing money from Estelle and the other senior dogs? My grandma would say that’s lower than a snake’s belly in a wagon rut.”

  Claire texted Traci, who confirmed that the exact amount was deposited to the shelter’s account the day after Lydia took it. While the foursome continued speculating, they cleaned the kitchen and got ready to leave. Bob, Marti and her two dogs got into his car and Nick volunteered to drive Claire and Baron in his car.

  Before he got into the convertible, Nick pulled out his wallet and counted his cash. “I’ll have to stop at the ATM to get some money to donate. Or, do you think they can take credit cards?”

  “Stop,” Claire yelled, causing all eyes to be on her. “I think I’ve got it.”

  “Well?” Bob asked. His passenger crawled over him to get the story.

  Claire asked Marti, “What was the one thing you complained about most when you were with Larry during his audit of the donations that night?”

  “That he was a dick-headed weasel?”

  “No, what did he do with the cash?”

  Marti thought about it for a moment before her eyes gleamed. “He kept licking his damned fingers.”

  “What if Lydia coated the cash in cyanide? The poison would have entered his system just as if it had been in candy.”

  “And that’s why she had to go there right away, to get the tainted money. A mass outbreak of poisonings at the bank would have ruined her narrative,” Bob added.

  “The bank should be able to confirm that she withdrew the same amount to make the deposit,” Claire said.

  “That’s still circumstantial,” Marti said. “The actual cash would be strong evidence against her.”

  “From what I hear, the police are pretty short on proof,” Nick said. “That recording Claire got is about all they have.”

  “Lydia has lawyered up with some high-powered attorneys,” Bob said. Marti slid back into her seat, trying to settle her impatient dogs.

  “You guys go ahead,” Claire said. “Nick and I will be right there, after a quick call.”

  She dialed Kendall’s number, not sure exactly what she should say but knowing what had to be done. Claire began the call by trying to console the young woman, careful not to mention her aunt’s guilt. She needn’t have bothered as Kendall had disowned Lydia and was packing her bags to return to New York. Claire offered encouragement and promised to put her in touch with some advertising contacts she still had in Manhattan. She moved on to the urgent matter, finding evidence in the house before Lydia returned and destroyed it. Remembering the conversation about the lemonade stand, Claire suggested that Kendall show the police the room in the basement and search for evidence, including eight hundred ninety-three dollars in cash. She warned her to tell them to wear gloves and masks. Kendall promised to call with any news.

  “Hang onto your hat,” Nick said as he put away his phone and switched on the siren.

  “What’s going on? There can’t be another murder…”

  “Good news, you’ll see. I was told to get you in ASAP.”

  The classic car’s engine revved as it raced to the North Haven Mall. Claire stared in disbelief at the queue that stretched around the mall and ended at the Posh Pup. Officer Vert stopped traffic to allow the VIP car access to the overflowing lot. Applause thundered as Claire walked through the door, Baron prancing alongside.

  “Word spread,” Marti said, helping her friend navigate through the packed store. “Barbara said people were lined up before she arrived and the phone was ringing so much, she directed it to a specially recorded voicemail message. Peggy’s been doing a great job with our veterans and service dogs, and the kids have been ringing up people nonstop. Bob’s been handling the press in between serving as a bagger and I’ve been manning the ovens.”

  Claire panicked for a moment before she realized her friend was kidding about the last part. Marti showed her the list of treats that needed to be replenished and explained how they started selling Pie-Owe-Yous to the clamoring customers after running out of apple pies in the first fifteen minutes. The baker promised to get in the kitchen as soon as she visited with her honored guests.

  Claire and Baron spent time with each vet and dog, thanking them for their courageous service and learning the heartwarming stories behind each pair. They watched as trainers showed some of the tasks the service dogs in training were learning. Claire was thrilled to see several network reporters in the audience, hoping the exposure would bring in more donations to the laudable group. She smiled as she noticed Marti’s handiwork, large posters announcing upcoming pet adoption events pinned on the walls in front of the cameras.

  On her way down, Claire was inundated with cheers, hugs and questions. She stopped halfway and queued Baron to bark, which to her surprise, he did. One more woof brought everyone’s attention to the steps.

  “I just wanted to say thank you to everyone for making today such an extraordinary success. Baron I are overwhelmed by your support and I look forward to talking with you all in the coming days,” Claire announced. “But, for now, I’m headed back to the kitchen to make some more apple pies for the heroes here today. Thank you all.” Baron posed for photos before he walked down with Claire.

  After a quick chat with each of her volunteers and staff, Claire put on her apron and started baking in earnest. Bob and Nick filled in wherever needed while Marti commanded the floor, keeping chaos at a minimum. A text message from Kyle alerted Claire to the pending delivery of four bushels of apples, which he promised to help peel. When he arrived, Carrie ran over with trays of sandwiches for the shop’s crew and military guests. Her assistant brought several pitchers of iced tea, iced coffee and lemonade.

  “Viktor’s on his way over with cupcakes,” Carrie said. “We’ll get these to the troops upstairs.”

  Claire followed Ky
le out to his van to help carry in the bushels.

  “I owe you an apology,” the beekeeper said. “I’ve been avoiding you and I feel bad, especially after you helped clear my name.”

  “That’s ok,” Claire said. “None us have been ourselves these past few weeks.”

  “Actually, I was afraid you were trying to match me up with your friend Helen. Don’t get me wrong, she’s a great lady, but…”

  “Helen? That’s not who,” Claire said, then stopped before admitting her actual matchmaking ploy. “I mean who told you that?”

  Claire laughed when she heard him recount the incident at the farmer’s market before all the commotion began. “I wanted you to match her up with honey to help her allergies,” she said.

  “Oh,” Kyle said. His cheeks were redder than the apples. “I just assumed, you know, since your mother introduced my parents to each other. That’s such a relief.” He looked around before he whispered, “Ever since I met Carrie, I can’t think of anyone but her.”

  Claire basked in the glow of her successful match until a squad car pulled up behind the van.

  “I’m glad I caught you,” Officer Connors said. “Would you mind sitting in the car with me a moment?”

  “I’ll start washing and peeling these,” Kyle said.

  Claire readied her speech that she was but a small part of a team and that Agnes deserved any type of medal or honor to be awarded. As soon the door shut, Sheila pounced.

  “What the hell were you thinking? You could have gotten yourself and that crazy old woman killed.”

  Claire stammered, trying to explain that it was a last-minute plan that seemed like a good idea at the time, and did actually work. She also pointed out that she did involve the police, who bailed on the plan.

  “Because you’re not a police officer. What did I tell you when you started snooping around? Chief Pete hit the roof when he heard about your ruse.”

  “Well, someone wanted my help. I received a packet of information that must have come from your department.”

  “That was from me, you idiot. The case was going to be closed, with everything pinned on Brendan. The coroner had doubts about a drowning, but was being pressured. You were our last hope.”

  “Then why are you yelling?”

  “Because you were supposed to dig up information…”

  “That’s exactly what I did,” Claire protested.

  “Not dig your grave, which you almost did. Why didn’t you just call me with the information? I left my burner number on the back of the file.”

  “I didn’t see it, though to be fair, I didn’t have any solid leads until we fished for them.” Sheila was not appeased, so Claire continued, “I did tell Kendall this morning to call the police to look for evidence in her house.”

  “Yes, and we’re grateful for that. Off the record, we found the tainted cash, bottles of amygdalin, and her grandfather’s patient charts. It seems he continued using the cyanide medicine, even though he knew it killed patients, confident he could find the magic dosage. His logs noted every patient, dose and medical consequence.”

  “That evidence plus the recording must be enough to convict her for the murders,” Claire said.

  “We also found a journal that tracked the doses and declining health of Lydia ’s husband.”

  “She killed him too? That’s what she meant by drastic measures.”

  After a stern lecture to restrict armchair sleuthing to a literal armchair, Sheila unlocked the doors. As she drove away, she rolled down the window. “Did you see who’s on traffic duty outside?”

  “Yes. Though I’m still a little angry at Officer Vert, it was a nice gesture that he volunteered.”

  “He didn’t,” Sheila said, laughing as she drove away.

  Agnes popped out from behind the mobile beehive once the squad car was out of sight. “I thought she was going to put you in the clink.”

  Claire hugged her partner in crime and caught up on what happened after they got the call that Jean and John were rescued and taken to an undisclosed location.

  “We got the penthouse suite and we’re living like royalty,” the scheming senior reported. “I wanted to stop by to make sure you and my furry friend are ok.”

  “Baron’s inside, I’ll go get him.”

  “Nah, I’m keeping a low profile until my talk show circuit starts. They’re flying me to L.A. in a few days, first-class.”

  “I thought you liked to keep things on the down low,” Claire teased.

  “My story is based on real events, but may leave out a few details. Just you wait and see, toots. It will be my best role yet.” Agnes put on sunglasses and a large, floppy hat, before walking to the end of the lot, where a limousine whisked her back to the city.

  By the time Claire returned to the kitchen, Kyle had peeled, cored and sliced a bushel of apples. He left his electric peeler as a gift. She began mixing and rolling out pie crust dough, with Baron napping beside her. A large pot of apples, cinnamon and honey simmered on the stove, perfuming the air and stimulating even more orders. The familiar routine felt restorative to the baker.

  While filling crusts, Claire updated Bob and Marti with the latest news. They surmised that with the mountain of evidence against Lydia, plus records from her substantial offshore bank account, she would never get bail. They celebrated by shredding their murder boards, starting to purge the murderous events that plagued their town. Marti was in such a good mood, she tried her hand at making a pie. When the crust tore and the apple filling spilled on her shoes, the attorney scowled and swore off baking for good. She took Bob out to the floor to help take orders.

  With both ovens filled with trays of pies, Claire began making ice cream. Nick took Baron out for a walk, then helped by pouring the ice cream mixture into individual containers and shuttling them to the freezer. Claire updated him on the news from Sheila, confident that Lydia would go down for at least four murders.

  “I know Lydia killed Brendan, but there’s no proof,” Claire said.

  “She was very careful,” Nick agreed. “The team couldn’t find any glass or bottle with a trace of poisonous residue.” When he returned from the freezer, he added, “but, they did find some on the suicide note. Thanks to your discovery that it was a fake, the letter was sent to the lab for testing. The results showed a toxic mix of vodka and cyanide.”

  Claire turned to kiss Nick, when Marti came in with a huge vase of flowers in varying hues of red, white and blue.

  “Look what Lana sent,” Marti said, reading the card that congratulated Claire and instructed her to charge a thousand-dollar donation to her card for the service dog organization. Baron woke up when he heard the name of one of his favorite customers.

  “She didn’t forget you,” Marti said. “Lana says don’t forget to spoil my favorite CEO with the treats of his choice and she promises to stop by as soon as she returns from Paris.”

  The day continued at a hectic pace, with the last customers leaving an hour after the shop was due to close. Claire offered to treat her staff and friends to dinner, but everyone was too tired. Nick stopped for burgers and the works for Claire and snoozing fur kid on the way home. He escorted them into the house, but had to leave in order to go home and change before his shift began.

  After their meal, Claire and Baron reclined on the couch and were joined by two cuddly cats. She looked through the channel guide for something light, choosing a travel show about the Norwegian Fjords. Even Hercule and Penny were mesmerized by the stunning views of jade green forests against turquoise waters. The peacefulness, unfamiliar and jarring at first, lulled Claire into a deeply relaxed state. The stack of orders she planned to review that night spilled to the floor, but not one paw swatted them.

  Chapter 21

  Late Summer

  Life began to return to normal over the next few weeks. Claire was frequently stopped in the street, but with fewer and fewer questions about her role in the investigation. Usually, people wanted to meet the famous
Baron. After baking for days, she finally caught up with the Pie Owe Yous. She, Bob and Marti got together as friends instead of Mystery Mavens.

  Sam stopped by to thank Claire for keeping her personal life private and for giving her good advice. She talked with the developers and was relieved that they decided to abandon the project, given all the negative publicity. Her uncle was unusually supportive, encouraging her to pursue her dreams, whatever they were. Claire was glad to hear the news, but not surprised. She did not disclose to anyone the threat she made to Mike, planning to hold onto the damning photo for a while longer. It was the perfect incentive to keep him from ever giving his niece any trouble over her relationship choices.

  Claire did tell Matt that the lewd photo that he prevented his father from seeing resulted in another good deed, though she kept the details private. The challenged entrepreneur also thanked Claire for her advice, which led him to talk with his father about the business. Ken injected capital, connected with consultants, and helped his son and Kyle relaunch their vision. Orders were already flooding in, and the pair were working with Dottie to find a large space for offices, a showroom, and beekeeping inventory storage.

  Now that she was the top agent in her office, Dottie had her choice of properties and clients. Although she rarely handled retail listings, she took on the available space next to the Posh Pup so she could visit with Claire and Baron. The former photography studio was attracting interest from a variety of retailers.

  Kendall sent photos of her new studio, with a view of Central Park. After the police discovered Alfred’s will in the basement cache, Kendall learned that the vacant land was actually left to her after her uncle had lost and won it back in a series of card games. Her attorney was working with the Caribbean bank to return the funds to the development company as the sale was voided. She reached a deal with the village to sell the land to them under market value, with the provision that it be kept as a nature preserve. Dottie was handling the sale of the family mansion.