In Dog We Trust

by Beth Kendrick

  Jocelyn stepped over the threshold and sniffed the air, which was redolent with garlic and oregano. “Is that what smells amazing?”

  “Yeah.” He led the way to the kitchen. “It’s almost ready.”

  Jocelyn made herself at home on a kitchen stool at the island. Liam opened the oven, pulled out a pan steaming with heat, and plated a piece of lasagna for her.

  “This is a much better coping skill than peach schnapps.” Jocelyn’s mouth watered at the sight of melty cheese and red sauce amid layers of noodles. “This is possibly the sexiest thing you could do without taking your clothes off.”

  He handed her a fork and a napkin. “Want to watch me chop up an onion?”

  “Oh yeah, baby. Nice and slow.”

  He grinned. “I’ve got knife skills that will blow your mind.”

  Jocelyn knew she’d burn her mouth, but couldn’t resist taking a taste. “Oh my God.”

  “You like it?”

  She forked up another bite, scorched tongue be damned. “Did you make the sauce yourself?”

  “Of course.” He looked offended. “Do I look like the kind of man who would use jarred tomato sauce?”

  While she ate, Liam got serious about reading the documents from Lois’s attorney. His smile twisted into a frown, which deepened with every page he turned.

  “This is bad,” he said.

  “I know. I can’t believe she has the gall. Bree thinks this has nothing to do with the dogs and everything to do with the money and lifestyle that comes with them.”

  “I agree with her.”

  “So my freaking out is warranted, yes?”

  “No.” His tone was calm and reassuring. “This case is going to cost her a ton of money in legal fees, and there’s a good chance she’s going to lose. She might drop the whole thing after a few months of testing the waters.”

  “Okay.” Jocelyn put down her fork. “Then why does your face look like that?”

  “Because this lawsuit is going to temporarily freeze all your access to the trust accounts.”

  “Meaning we can’t get the equity loan for the ranch.”

  “You can ask your lawyer about it, but it’s very unlikely you’ll have the latitude to make that kind of financial transaction while the estate is being disputed.”

  Jocelyn hadn’t even considered this possibility in her outrage.

  “Don’t worry. I’ll figure out something else before the end of the month.” He sounded so confident, but they both knew he was out of time. If there were any other options, he would have pursued them already.

  “I’ll help you,” Jocelyn vowed.

  Liam’s whole body stiffened. “You don’t need to do anything. I’ve already taken advantage of you.”

  She stood up and put her arms around him. “You haven’t taken advantage of me.”

  “I asked you to take money out of your home and give it to me.”

  “You asked me to help arrange for a loan to help your mother, which you are going to pay back. That’s not taking advantage.” Jocelyn tried to figure out when this conversation had stopped being about Lois’s lawsuit and started being about her and Liam’s relationship.

  “I should be able to handle this without help,” he insisted.

  “You helped me,” she pointed out. “With the puppies and the dogs. Before you even knew me.”

  “That was different,” he said.

  “In what way?”

  “I was helping you.”

  “We’re partners,” Jocelyn decreed. “Business partners and personal partners. And lasagna partners. We work together. Make your peace with that.” She patted the stool next to her. “And make yourself comfortable. Let’s figure out how to rip this woman apart. Legally speaking, of course.”

  chapter 34

  “ This whole thing is ridiculous, right?” Jocelyn waited a beat for Murray Tumboldt, Esquire, to confirm that this whole thing was, in fact, ridiculous. But he just stared at her, silent and poker-faced in his suit and tie.

  His inertia exacerbated her restlessness. She started to pace the perimeter of the rug surrounding the desk. “Who gets to decide this, anyway? Are we going to have to go to canine family court?”

  “The co-trustee has ultimate decision-making power,” the attorney replied. “You’ll make our case, the opposition will make theirs, the trustee will do her best to consider the wishes and intentions of Mr. Allardyce and act accordingly.”

  “So I’ll finally get to meet this woman?”

  “Yes. And the woman has a name: Frances Jarvinen.”

  Jocelyn frowned. “Why does that name sound familiar?”

  “Perhaps because we’ve discussed Ms. Jarvinen’s role in your life at great length?”

  “Let me ask you something. We’re all supposed to consider Mr. Allardyce and his wishes, but what about the dogs?” Jocelyn demanded. “Who considers them?”

  “Ms. Jarvinen will take into account the affection and intentions Mr. Allardyce had for the dogs. If she believes, for whatever reason, that Lois would better meet the standards of care Mr. Allardyce stipulated for the dogs, she might side with her. But I doubt that would happen. Mr. Allardyce named you, and he did so for a reason.” The attorney looked so detached, she wanted to smack him.

  Jocelyn planted her high heels in the thick pile of the rug. “May I ask you a personal question?”

  His eyes darted downward, but he didn’t say no.

  “Do you have a dog?”

  He adjusted his glasses on the bridge of his nose. “No.”

  “A cat?” she persisted.

  “No.”

  “A ferret, a turtle, a parrot, a fish? Anything?”

  He shook his head. “I’m not what you would call an animal lover.”

  “Well, I am. I’m an official crazy dog lady. You know people who treat their pets like their kids? That’s me.” Jocelyn ticked her neuroses off on her fingers. “I dress them up for Halloween. I let them share the last bite of my ice cream cone. I have birthday parties for them, with special low-sugar oatmeal cake.”

  The attorney glanced at his watch.

  She didn’t care. She was on a roll, and her dogs were paying his hourly rate. “I keep hearing about the trustee and all her power and Mr. Allardyce, who, I hate to be the one to point out, is dead. Why are we still so concerned about him? The only people I’m concerned about are the dogs. And I’m guessing this trustee has never even met them.”

  The attorney finally broke down and used a facial expression—one of great skepticism and superiority. “And I suppose that the fact that Ms. Gunther is attempting to wrestle away your home and discretionary funds has nothing to do with your outrage?”

  “Well, obviously I’m pissed about that, too.” Jocelyn balled her fist. “I was on the verge of sealing a lucrative deal with a real estate investor that was going to benefit the trust. And of course I like living in the Delaware version of Million Dollar Listing. But mostly, I’m mad because that traitor thinks she would be a better dog mom than me. Spoiler alert: She wouldn’t.”

  “Be that as it may.” The attorney’s leather chair creaked as he leaned forward. “If this is really about the dogs’ welfare, there’s a simple solution. Just give her a puppy and perhaps one of the adults.”

  Jocelyn stepped back, stunned. “What?!”

  “You’re allowed to do as you see fit with those puppies. If it’s truly the dogs Ms. Gunther wants, that should placate her.”

  “I don’t want to placate her; I want to annihilate her.” Jocelyn dug her fingernails into her palm. “She can’t have so much as a single tuft of hair.”

  “Offer her one puppy,” the lawyer suggested. “That should make clear whether she’s after the canines or the cash.”

  “Even if she agreed to that deal, she’d pass the puppy right along to the D
erridges. I’m not using Hester’s babies as bargaining chips.”

  “Think it over carefully before you decide. Either you use a bargaining chip wisely now, or risk gambling away the whole estate.”

  “I’ll take my chances.” Jocelyn still couldn’t believe the advice she was hearing. “My dogs are not for sale. Neither is my integrity.”

  “Oh my dear.” The lawyer laughed, genuinely amused. He pulled out a crisp linen handkerchief and dabbed the corner of his eyes. “Everything is for sale. Everything. It’s merely a matter of naming the right price.”

  chapter 35

  Late that afternoon, Jocelyn took Carmen for a playdate with Friday. As if she could sense where they were headed, Carmen spent the car ride whining with impatience and smearing the windows with slobber.

  Jocelyn had to smile, even though she dreaded the task of cleaning the car windows. “Look at you, literally drooling over a guy. Hasn’t anyone ever talked to you about playing hard to get?”

  No one had, obviously. Carmen pulled at the leash and pranced in place at the pre-arranged meeting spot on the sand. She didn’t pretend, she didn’t act cool. She reveled in her joy and anticipation, and it made Jocelyn love her even more.

  Jocelyn tried in vain to distract Carmen with a tennis ball and a Frisbee, but the besotted chocolate Lab stood watch on the top of the dune, her eyes trained on the parking lot below. A few minutes later, a weathered gold Subaru turned in from the main road and Carmen decompensated, barking and thrashing and snapping at the air in delight.

  “Playing easy to get,” Jocelyn mused. “You may be on to something.”

  Friday jumped out of the hatchback as soon as Violet opened the door. He sprinted toward Carmen as fast as his sturdy legs could carry him. Jocelyn stepped out of the way as he approached, fearful that if he sideswiped her by accident, it would be the equivalent of being tackled by a linebacker.

  “Lovely day,” Violet commented as she trailed behind her dog, leash in hand. “I’ll certainly miss this weather when I go back home.”

  Jocelyn watched the two dogs chase and pounce on each other. “You still have some time left, right?”

  “Just a few days. We leave on Friday.” Friday glanced over at the sound of his name, then resumed frolicking.

  Jocelyn’s heart ached for Carmen. “What a shame. They have such a good time together.”

  “Yes, they do.” Violet put on her omnipresent sun hat and adjusted the brim. “They’re quite a pair.”

  “Can’t you stay an extra week or two?” Jocelyn coaxed.

  “We’d love to, but the house I’m renting is already booked solid for the rest of the season. Besides, I’m afraid we’re needed back in our real lives.”

  “Carmen will be devastated.” Jocelyn turned to the older woman. “Are you sure there’s nothing I can say to persuade you to stay just a bit longer?”

  “Well.” Violet cleared her throat delicately. “You could make me an offer.”

  Jocelyn raised one eyebrow, confused. “Excuse me?”

  Violet glanced at Friday, then back at Jocelyn. “Make me an offer.”

  Jocelyn was sure she was misunderstanding. “For what?”

  Violet held her gaze. “I asked about you, after our last meeting. People here love to talk.”

  “That’s an understatement.”

  “I heard about what happened, how you got the dogs.”

  “Yes, well . . .”

  “You love them, you treat them well, you give them a good life.” Violet’s tone had shifted to breezy nonchalance. Jocelyn tried to adjust accordingly.

  “I try my best.”

  “I’d love for Friday and Carmen to be able to stay together. I know you’d take excellent care of him.” Violet lifted her hand, offering Jocelyn his leash.

  Jocelyn accepted, almost as a reflex, still trying to figure out exactly what was transpiring here. “But wouldn’t you miss him?”

  “I’ll miss him terribly.” The old woman rested her hand on her heart as her eyes welled with tears. “But he loves it here. He loves Carmen. Think what a gift you’ll be giving her.”

  Jocelyn stared down at the braided leather leash in her hand. “So you want me to . . . take him? Forever?”

  “I can drop off his dish and his bed tonight.” Violet’s gaze sharpened. “Of course you understand what it means to me to leave him here.” She cleared her throat. “What it will cost me.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Emotionally.”

  “Uh-huh.” Jocelyn wished for the millionth time that she had a Rich Benefactress Decoder Ring. “Would it help if I offered a little adoption fee? You know, like when you adopt a dog from a rescue group?”

  “It would.” Violet beamed.

  Jocelyn inhaled slowly, buying some time to think. “What did you have in mind?”

  “Nothing extravagant,” Violet assured her. “Just enough to distract me while I grieve his loss.”

  Jocelyn mulled over her options, up to and including leaving without another word. But then she looked at Carmen and Friday, so happy together. So unaware that they were about to be parted. So oblivious to the fact that Friday’s owner was willing to put a dollar amount on his companionship and devotion.

  Well, if she’s selling, I’m buying.

  Jocelyn’s doubt and empathy seeped out, only to be replaced by something colder but stronger: Power.

  She adjusted her sunglasses and asked Violet to name her price. “Will you take a check?”

  “Absolutely.” Violet beamed. “A check will be fine.”

  * * *

  • • •

  Bree was waiting on the steps of the beach house with a book and a bag of freshly picked cherries. She frowned when she saw Jocelyn pile out of the car along with Carmen and Friday.

  “Why do you look like you look?”

  Jocelyn slung her purse over her shoulder. “I just bought Carmen’s boyfriend on the black market.”

  “Rich people problems.” Bree held out her hand for Carmen’s leash.

  “I was minding my own business at the doggie playdate.” Jocelyn tried to explain how events had transpired, even though she didn’t completely understand it herself. “I guess we have a new member of the family.”

  Bree grinned as she looked over Friday’s blocky pit bull head, German shepherd coat, hound nose, and Lab tail. “You think Lois is going to include him in her lawsuit, too?”

  “Lois wouldn’t be caught dead with him.”

  “I don’t know. This dog’s got charisma.” Bree fished a cherry out of the bag. “Rags to riches, buddy. You’re living the American dream.”

  “I’m glad you’re here.” Jocelyn unlocked the front door and stepped out of the way so Carmen could race in and introduce the newest member of the pack. “I have to handle all the laundry myself today. My mom’s in Connecticut. At a casino.” Jocelyn recounted the phone conversation. “I don’t even know who she is anymore.”

  “So your mom and Liam’s mom are bonding,” Bree mused. “That could be really, really good or really, really bad.”

  “You know what’s comforting?” Jocelyn helped herself to a cherry as they entered the house. “No matter how crazy life gets or who shows up out of the blue, some things never change. And one of those things is laundry.” She opened the mudroom door and doled out treats to Curtis and Hester. “Tonight could be the flesh-eating zombie apocalypse and there would still be clothes to wash.”

  “And some very stubborn stains, I’d imagine.” Bree refilled the dogs’ water dish.

  “I’m not going to worry about my mom and Liam’s mom. You’re not going to worry about Krysten and Dan. We’re just going to bleach some stains, clean out the lint trap, and carry on as usual. And we’re taking a mental vacation from the lawyers.” Jocelyn’s phone rang. Her heart sank when she saw the contac
t name on the screen. “Or maybe not.”

  “It’s the lawyer?”

  “It’s him,” Jocelyn confirmed. “And if he’s calling me, it’s something big.” She clicked the button to pick up. “Hello?”

  “Did Mr. Allardyce ever say anything to you about Lois Gunther before he died?” the lawyer demanded, skipping all introductions and pleasantries.

  “Um . . . in what capacity?” Jocelyn asked.

  “Any capacity,” the lawyer said. “Did he ever mention her in any exchange he had with you, written or oral?”

  “Well, sure. She was the dogs’ handler.”

  “Did he speak highly of her?”

  “Yeah, he said she was the best. Why? What’s up?”

  For the first time since she’d met him, Murray Tumboldt, Esquire was at a loss for words. All she heard on the other end of the connection was a heavy sigh.

  “What?” she pressed.

  “I just got off the phone with Ms. Jarvinen, your co-trustee.”

  “Ah yes, the infamous Ms. Jarvinen.”

  “The infamous Ms. Jarvinen just got off the phone with Ms. Gunther’s attorney. Apparently, they have e-mails.”

  “Like what kind of e-mails?”

  “E-mails from Mr. Allardyce praising Ms. Gunther’s performance and indicating that he would like her to take care of his dogs if anything were to happen to him.”

  Jocelyn’s expression must have been alarming, because Bree started hovering and trying to overhear the other side of the conversation.

  “When was this?” Jocelyn demanded.

  “Four years ago.”

  “That was before I even met him.”

  “Yes, but apparently, he sent the e-mails to Ms. Gunther shortly before he went into the hospital for surgery.”

  “For what?”

  “I’m not privy to that information, but Ms. Gunther’s attorney assured Ms. Jarvinen that they can provide documentation confirming the hospital stay and the fact that he entrusted the dogs to her care while he was admitted.”