A Dead Man and Doggie Delights

by Aleksa Baxter

  I headed for the kitchen, desperately in need of a Coke. This day was not going at all the way I’d planned it. At least Fancy redeemed herself when Officer Handsome tried to follow me to the kitchen. She wove her way between his legs like an oversized cat and almost tripped him. I smiled. Something needed to bring that man down a notch or ten. He was far too confident for his own good.

  Of course, he just laughed. Points to him for being a dog person, but a man who was handsome and a dog person was so not what I needed right then.

  Chapter Six

  The three of us settled at the kitchen table, a small metal table shoved up against the wall, leaving only three possible places to sit. My grandpa picked up his crossword and pretended to be working on it, but I knew he was listening to every word we said.

  Matt opened the Coke I’d given him, the sound of its fizzing filling the air between us. He said there was no need for a formal interview down at the station. Unless I’d killed the guy, that is.

  After confirming that no, I had not killed the man, left his body there to rot, and then gone back to report it later, we got started. The first few questions were simple enough. Name. Address. Age. Marital Status. I raised an eyebrow at that last one but answered Single and moved on like it was nothing worth noting.

  Then he asked me how I’d found the body.

  I’d debated this one while I was waiting for him to arrive. Should I tell the cop my dog peed on the dead body before I realized what it was? Or should I just keep that to myself and let him assume any pee on the body was from wild animals? Because they’d have to notice, right? I mean, that kind of thing leaves something behind. And on all those cop shows they always are able to tell who the pee belonged to

  I mean, okay, not like they’re going around testing pee all the time on those shows. But often enough that it’s come up as the one little thing that gets the killer busted in the end at least once or twice. I wouldn’t want them going down the wrong path only to find out it was my dog that had done it.

  So after taking an extra swallow of Coke, I told him what Fancy had done. Both he and my grandpa stared at me.

  “What?” I said, defensively. “Don’t look at me like that. She likes to pee on dead things. She’s a dog.”

  Matt glanced at Fancy who was sound asleep under the table, her head nestled against his foot, traitor that she was. “You don’t look like you like to pee on dead things,” he told her.

  “She has hidden depths.”

  He laughed softly. “So I see. You didn’t know she was peeing on a body?”

  “No. I wasn’t looking. I could smell it, but I don’t like to look too closely at the dead things she pees on.”

  He scrawled a series of notes on his notepad. I tried to see what he was writing—I’m pretty good at reading upside down—but his handwriting was completely illegible.

  He noticed and turned his notes towards me. “Short hand. My grandma taught me. You’d be amazed how much knowing it has come in handy over the years.”

  Ah. That explained it. He was cheating. I made a mental note to learn short hand. I don’t like not knowing what someone is writing about me. Not that we were ever going to cross paths again, not if I could help it.

  “That all you need?” I asked, ready for him to leave and never come back.

  “Almost. Did you know him?”

  I bounced my Coke can against the table, trying to figure out how to answer his question. “You mean, had we been introduced?”

  He narrowed his eyes. “Sure. Let’s start there.”

  “No, we had not.” I beamed at him, pretty pleased with how I’d side-stepped that landmine.

  He leaned closer and I felt like the overhead kitchen light had suddenly been transformed into one of those police interrogation lamps. “Did you know who he was when you found the body?”

  “I had my suspicions.” I held his intense blue gaze, refusing to crack.

  “How so? If you hadn’t been introduced?”

  I bit my lip, trying to figure out how to step around the question. The only sound in the kitchen was the tap, tap, tap of my Coke can on the tabletop as I tried to find an answer that wouldn’t implicate my grandpa.

  Unfortunately, he did it for me.

  “Oh for heaven’s sake, Maggie May, just tell the man.” He turned to Matt. “The day after Maggie arrived, Jack went walking up the trail behind our house, and when Fancy here barked at him he barked back at her. So Maggie told him what for and he barked at her, too.”

  Matt nodded. “Okay. What was so hard about that?”

  “Because Maggie probably thinks I shot him.”

  “Grandpa!” I pressed my lips together and bugged my eyes out in the universal sign for keep your mouth shut, but he wasn’t even looking at me.

  “And why would she think that, Mr. Carver?”

  My grandpa reached for his non-existent cigarettes and cussed softly when he remembered he didn’t smoke anymore.

  “Sir?”

  “Because I threatened him with my shotgun. You know how that boy was, words were never enough.”

  “Grandpa,” I hissed. “You didn’t have to tell him that.”

  Matt raised an eyebrow at me and I sat back in my chair, feeling only slightly guilty for encouraging my grandpa to lie to the police.

  My grandpa looked right at me as he added, “I didn’t shoot him, by the way. Not worth the lead. Especially when someone else was going to do it sooner rather than later.”

  Matt tapped his pen on his paper. “I believe you, sir, but that puts me in an awfully awkward position.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “Because it looks like Jack was shot with a shotgun. At least that’s Sue’s preliminary.”

  “Well, I didn’t do it. Lots of people in this town own shotguns. Now, if you’d found the body on my front yard, maybe you could think it was me. But not halfway up the mountainside. I’m too old to go tracking someone down like that.”

  Matt pinched the bridge of his nose. It was clear he believed my grandpa but he was also a man of the law and he couldn’t just ignore such a likely suspect. “Do you have the gun, sir?”

  “Of course I do.” My grandpa crossed his arms and glared at Matt like he’d just proven himself to be a little low in the intelligence department.

  Matt didn’t even flinch. “Is it locked up tight in a gun safe?”

  My grandpa snorted. “What good would that do me? Take me ten minutes to get the stupid thing out and by then I’d be dead or the trouble would be gone.”

  I winced. I wasn’t surprised, but I really, really wished he hadn’t said that.

  Matt made a note on his notepad. “So your shotgun, which you swear you did not use to kill Jack Dunner, is somewhere in this house but not locked up?”

  “No. It’s in my truck.”

  I almost fell out of my chair. Seriously? He’d left a shotgun in his truck?

  “Is the truck locked?” Matt asked, his tone making it clear he already knew what the answer to that was going to be.

  “No. This is Creek, not some big fancy city. I don’t need to lock my truck.”

  “Grandpa…” I buried my face in my hands. Did he honestly not understand how problematic it was that he was carrying a loaded gun around in an unlocked truck? Set aside the fact that a man had been murdered with a weapon just like that, he had to know it was never a good idea to leave a loaded gun just lying around.

  Didn’t he?

  Matt nodded once. “Okay. I’m going to need to see that gun, sir.”

  “See it or take it?” My grandpa leveled a look at Matt that had backed down more than one dangerous man over the years.

  “Both.” Matt met him glare for glare, which I had to reluctantly admit was pretty impressive. “If you’d had it locked in your gun safe, maybe I could’ve left it with you. But you’re telling me that you had an unsecured firearm sitting in a vehicle anyone could’ve accessed within the vicinity of a murder. I have to consider that your gun
, whether you shot it or not, was the murder weapon.”

  My grandpa huffed a laugh. “Fine. Take it. But you better bring it back to me as soon as you’re done with it.”

  “So you can point it at someone else who upsets you?” Matt asked with a smile.

  “Now you listen here, Matthew Allen Barnes, I knew you before you could toddle. And you will not make smart aleck comments to me like that. I am a responsible gun owner and I want my gun back once you see that I didn’t use it to kill someone. Got it?”

  “Yes, sir.” Matt downed the rest of his Coke and set it back on the table. There was still a faint smile on his lips. “Maggie, it was nice to see you again after all these years. Mr. Carver, if you’ll lead me to the gun?”

  As they walked to the door I hoped that would be the last of it. Unfortunately, the way things had been going so far, I suspected Officer Barnes would be back sooner rather than later.

  Just what I needed.

  Chapter Seven

  It was almost a relief to go to the barkery after that morning’s excitement. Jamie had brought in her golden retriever puppy, Lulu, and we let Fancy and Lulu run around in the dog run out back while I filled her in on all the details.

  “You don’t think he really did it, do you?” she asked.

  “No. He couldn’t have. I mean, okay, he probably could have, but he wouldn’t have. Like he told the cop, waste of lead.”

  Luke, general contractor and all around pain in my, well, you know, poked his head out the barkery door. “Hey, Beautiful. Hey, Sunshine. How are you ladies doing today?”

  I rolled my eyes and ignored him. I’d learned long ago that any man who calls all women by little names like that all the time is a player. You don’t have to keep track of who you’re flirting with if every woman is Beautiful or Sunshine.

  Unfortunately, Jamie had never learned the same lesson. (As her string of unfortunate boyfriends showed). “Hey, Luke,” she simpered at him. “I thought you guys were done with all your work.”

  As he stepped onto the back patio I caught a peek of Katie staring forlornly at him before the door closed. Not her, too. What was it about the man? Sure, he was good-looking in that rugged cowboy/bad boy sort of way. You just knew he’d suggest going skinny dipping in some private pond tucked away on a bit of property he didn’t own given even a little bit of encouragement. But, really. Couldn’t they see through his crap?

  He leaned against the wall and leered down at us. (Okay, I call it leering. Jamie would’ve called it smiling and wouldn’t have noticed the way he angled himself for the best view down her shirt.)

  “I figured I’d drop by, give things one last look, and maybe give my ladies a little kiss on the cheek for good luck.” He had the audacity to wink at us.

  Jamie giggled. I stood up. “I’m good, thanks. And you just remember that that red-headed beauty inside is too young for you to be giving kisses to, you hear me?” I glared at him.

  “Who, Katie? She’s seventeen. That’s not too young.”

  “Yes, it is. You go anywhere near that girl in that way and you will answer to me. Got it?”

  He shrugged me off. “You don’t have to be such a buzzkill, Maggie. She’ll be eighteen in two more months.”

  I glared him down. I hadn’t missed the fact that he knew exactly how old she was and exactly when he could make a move on her without repercussions. At least of the legal variety.

  Jamie looked up at him, a slight frown on her face. “Are you attracted to Katie?” Her voice trembled. Great, just what I needed. A love triangle between my best friend, the resident sleaze, and our shop assistant.

  Luke leaned in and brushed his hand down the side of Jamie’s face. “She’s a pretty girl, that’s all. Not a beautiful woman like you are. You’re so beautiful I sometimes forget to breathe when you’re around.”

  Jamie swooned. I made gagging noises. “Come on, Jamie, you’re better than this.”

  I shook my head in disgust, but there’s no stopping a woman who’s fallen for the wrong guy. “I need to do a final inspection. I’ll leave you two to whatever this is. Fancy, come on, girl.” I whistled and she came trotting to me, Lulu trailing along behind.

  As I pushed my way past Luke and back inside I told myself I should be grateful Luke had taken such an interest in the store. Without him we would’ve never recovered from the fire in time to meet our grand opening date. But I wasn’t so sure the tradeoff of having him around was worth it.

  I found Katie in the café’s kitchen, her nose pressed to the glass as she watched Luke and Jamie.

  “He isn’t worth it, you know.”

  She flinched back and pretended to be wiping down the counter. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Look, I was seventeen once, too. And when I was I thought it was so cool how these older men found me attractive. Like, wow. A man not a boy and he wants me. But I’ll tell you something…You get to be that man’s age and you think about being attracted to a seventeen-year-old and then you realize how downright skeevy that really is. Jamie and I grew up with Luke. He’s old enough to be your father.”

  She threw the washrag in the sink. “I said I don’t know what you’re talking about. Just leave me alone, would you?” She stomped past me. “Tell Jamie I had to go, but I’ll be here tomorrow.”

  She strode across the seating area and yanked the front door open, setting all the bells along the top jangling. I had to lunge for Lulu’s collar to keep her from following Katie outside. Did the girl have no sense for anyone but herself? Geez.

  I muttered curses as I turned to inspect the store one last time, telling myself I had better things to do than try to protect one seventeen-year-old girl from getting her heart broken by a loser. That was just part and parcel of growing up—letting some guy sucker you into thinking he was more than he was. She’d learn.

  Hopefully before she turned eighteen.

  Chapter Eight

  The next day dawned clear and blue and perfect. Fancy and I left for a quick walk around the neighborhood—not up the mountain, one dead body was enough for us, thank you very much—as the sun was just starting to rise, coloring the sky all pink and orange.

  I took a deep breath as I watched the colors spread along the horizon, reminding myself that no matter what happened from this moment onward at least I’d tried.

  I could’ve easily stayed in DC and kept making good money while being silently miserable, but I hadn’t. I’d taken the chance to get what I wanted. And even if I failed, even if I had to go back there some day to put a roof over my head, at least I’d know I’d tried. And the time I was getting with my grandpa—as long as I left his crosswords alone and kept him from shooting someone—was invaluable.

  If I’d waited another ten years, it might’ve been too late. For all of it. It would’ve certainly been too late to spend quality time with Fancy.

  As we reached the corner and passed by Luke’s rundown house, I stuck my tongue out. You’d think for someone who billed himself out as a construction contractor that he’d make a little bit of effort to keep his house from looking like a derelict dump. But no.

  When we’d been up on the mountainside the day before I’d been able to see into his backyard. It was a mess, full of rusted and rotted metal. I was surprised someone hadn’t called him in as a health hazard yet. Maybe if he kept playing with Jamie the way he was, I would.

  Serve him right.

  As I glanced up the mountainside I saw Mr. Jackson headed towards the ridgeline, a pack on his back. Interesting. I hadn’t figured he kept that path tended as a hobby. Maybe the extracurricular product that I’d spied down in the valley belonged to him.

  Could he have killed Jack? A little drug dispute gone bad? Maybe Jack had tried to steal his product and he’d put an end to it the best way he knew how. He certainly knew his way around a gun—he always had extra deer or elk meat to offer the neighbors and had served in ‘Nam. Maybe he was even trying to frame my grandpa by using a shotg
un. He had seen that fight after all.

  I pondered the thought as I walked along, liking it more and more as I thought it through. But then I shrugged it off. If Mr. Jackson had killed Jack, Officer Handsome would figure it out soon enough, he didn’t strike me as the type to miss something so obvious. And, really, it wasn’t my business. Let the cops handle it. I had a business to run.

  Personally, I didn’t care if they ever caught the killer. I was just glad Jack Dunner wasn’t going to be around to bark at me and my dog anymore.

  About half a block later I saw Katie running towards me on the other side of the street, her long red ponytail swinging back and forth with every step, headphones snaking up to her ears, her arms moving with such perfect precision I wondered for a split second if she was actually a robot.

  I waved, but she didn’t so much as flinch, even though she had to have seen me. Not a ton of people out that early after all.

  I entertained myself the rest of the walk around town trying to figure out what career Katie would excel at. Fashion CEO a la The Devil Wears Prada? CIA operative tasked with seducing Russian oligarchs? Prison warden? Nah, a prison warden would need to be friendlier than that. Maybe headmistress of a military school. That had possibilities.

  I know. It wasn’t very nice of me—I told you before I’m a horrible person—but I just don’t understand people who don’t like dogs. I mean, it was bad enough when she snubbed Fancy that first day—broke her little heart—but Katie didn’t even like Lulu. Who doesn’t like a golden retriever puppy? And even more than that, who takes a job at a dog barkery if they don’t like dogs?

  I didn’t get it. Any of it.

  Ah well. She was a hard worker at least.

  When she was there. She certainly needed to duck out early quite a lot. But now that we were opening that was going to stop or she was going to find somewhere new to work. Jamie would object—she’s nice that way—but eventually she’d see that you can’t run a business if no one’s there to serve the customers.