I liked the way HS was handling himself now—and the message going out to the world via Silas and the TV station. Would it help to solve Henry’s murder? Who knew?
As the interview wound down, Silas asked Tula what she thought, and I gathered that Henry’s sister thought very little, or at least nothing she intended to discuss on camera.
And when it was over, and Silas wasn’t asking the Schulzers anything else, I figured he was through. But he wasn’t. He held out his microphone to me, and Wilbur aimed the camera at me.
I thought of waving my hands in front of my face, running away, anything to prevent what was clearly about to occur.
But I’d been interviewed by Silas before, and it hadn’t been so bad. Plus, this time I had an ulterior motive—protecting Dinah and the others who’d been at her party and argued with Henry, including myself.
“And you, Ms. Carrie Kennersly. You’ve been helpful in figuring out who committed some other crimes in this area recently. Have you zeroed in on who was involved in this one?”
“No, I haven’t.” I hoped to leave it at that.
But Silas continued. “I’ll bet you have some ideas. Are you sharing your suspicions with the local police? I assume you’re at least looking into this murder.”
“I’m strictly an amateur,” I said to the camera. “I hope this situation gets resolved quickly. But in the meantime, I’d like to invite your viewers to visit Barkery and Biscuits, and Icing on the Cake, the shops I own that sell treats for both dogs and people. And—” As I’d hoped, Silas pulled the microphone away from me, and the camera, too, was focused on other people by Wilbur.
Which made me smile. With a small gesture near my hip to the people with me, I moved forward.
My group and I stopped in front of the Schulzers, and I looked first toward HS and introduced all of us. “I don’t think any of us knew your father well, though we met him. We’re all very sorry for your loss, and—”
“You’re Dinah.” Mabe was looking at my assistant as if a banshee had come to greet her.
“Yes, I am,” Dinah said, stepping forward. “I take it you’ve heard about what happened at my birthday party.” She sounded sad.
“Yes, we did,” HS said. “And out of everyone that people have mentioned around here, we think you—”
“You think I was the one to kill Henry,” Dinah finished.
I could see Neal and Janelle exchange looks, and Reed shot me a glare as if I’d caused this confrontation. Maybe I had, in a way, just by suggesting that we convey our condolences right here and right now, personally.
“Didn’t you?” HS demanded. I noticed his phrasing. Rather than “did you,” he seemed to be taking the position that of course Dinah had, although she might deny it.
I was the one to step forward this time—just as I noticed that Silas and Wilbur were recording and filming us now, too. “No,” I said firmly, “she didn’t. We can understand, if you heard about the little disagreement they had that evening, why you might wonder whether anyone involved could have harmed your father—but, as I said, it was just a small disagreement. And I have to say that your father’s attitude at that time seemed to be encouraging a lot of little disagreements.”
“Well, one of those turned deadly.” That was Tula, who’d otherwise been quiet. “And it could have been any of you, right?”
“No,” I contradicted her. “That’s not right.”
Fortunately, the people right behind us in line chose just then to interrupt. Had they been listening and decided enough was enough? I thought the woman looked familiar—perhaps one of my customers, though if so, she must not be a regular. “Sorry,” she said, “but we have to convey our sympathy now since we need to leave.”
“Sure.” I nodded toward the others with me. Then, with a glance back toward the Schulzers and resuming the sympathetic expression I’d had on my face before, I led my group forward.
Toward the cops.
I noticed that Silas didn’t pull away as soon as the people behind us got the Schulzers’ attention. Was he going to move forward, too, and also butt in on my conversation with the cops?
Apparently not, since, fortunately, Silas seemed to have come up with another question for the Schulzers—or at least he stayed there as the other mourners spoke with them.
“Let’s go talk to the cops now,” I said to Reed, who had remained by my side.
His expression turned wry, and I couldn’t help but stare at the gorgeousness of his deep brown eyes. For a moment, at least, till he responded to what I’d said. “They’re not my favorite people these days, and I’m not theirs, either,” he said.
“No, but you’re no longer a suspect in any murder. Just because you happened to be present at Dinah’s party—as were the rest of us—it doesn’t mean they’ll pay much attention to you. Not this time.” Unlike last time, when Reed was highly involved in the situation and probably the prime suspect until that case got solved—largely thanks to me.
“But what about you? They do seem to like you, at least more than before.”
“Sure, they’re much nicer these days to me,” I said. Sort of, at least. “But not too friendly, at least not all the time. Maybe they think I’ll dump my other careers and try to take over their jobs if they give me too hard a time.”
I aimed a wink at him that made him laugh. He took my hand and we walked the few feet to where the police now talked to Les, Billi, and a couple of other City Council folks who’d come up to them.
Detective Bridget Morana seemed to notice me immediately. “Ah,” she said, “here’s our favorite amateur snoop. Er, sleuth. Did the memorial point your suspicions in any directions we should know about, Ms. Kennersly?”
“Not really,” I said. “How about you?”
“Do you really think we’d tell you if it did?” That was Wayne, who simply stared at me, no particular expression on his face.
“Of course not,” I responded. Maybe it was useless to even think about talking to the cops now. But I did wish I had a better sense of who they were zeroing in on.
I of course feared it was Dinah.
Wayne seemed to read my thoughts. Or maybe, since I’d been a thorn in the cops’ sides in the other recent murder cases, he knew what I was thinking—since things were similar, in some ways, to what had gone on before.
“Well, all those nice employees you sent over to talk to us at the station, in accordance with our request, remain in our sights,” he said. “In case you were wondering. And you’ve learned, I’m sure, over the past months that we tend to go after the most obvious suspects, at least at first. The most obvious aren’t always the most guilty,” he said more hurriedly as I opened my mouth to comment. “But sometimes they are. And if you have any evidence, or even ideas, to lead us away from your buddies”—he looked over my shoulder, and I turned briefly to see Dinah in his line of sight, unfortunately not unexpectedly—“we’ll be glad to listen any time.”
Really? Fine for him to say so, but I figured that if I planted myself at the police station and demanded a discussion, they wouldn’t be too pleased.
Not unless I could lead them to the proverbial smoking gun, which wouldn’t work in this case anyway, and not only because Henry hadn’t been shot. They already had the murder weapon, or at least that was what they had indicated.
“Then who are those buddies of Ms. Kennersly’s that you think could be guilty?” asked another voice. Damn. Silas had left his position near Henry’s family and made his way over without my noticing, since he had stayed behind me.
And approaching from the other direction was Francine Metz. I wasn’t sure where the Knobcone News editor had been since the service but assumed she’d been interviewing people, too. She didn’t have a photographer with her, but she was snapping pictures with a small tablet computer.
“We aren’t ready to provide that information
yet,” Chief Loretta said smoothly. “Our investigation is still in its preliminary stages, and the fact that Ms. Kennersly, or anyone else, has friends who might have had a motive to commit this crime is not relevant.”
Good. Any motive my friends might have had were flimsy at best. Or so I’d been attempting to assure myself.
Silas now held his microphone out to the police chief, with Wilbur filming away behind him. “What is relevant then, Chief Jonas? What is your procedure now to solve this murder?”
Francine was on his other side, typing on her electronic device.
“Once again, that’s something we can’t discuss,” Chief Loretta said. “All we can say right now is that determining who committed this homicide is a very high priority of ours, and you and your viewers can be certain we’ll keep on it until it’s resolved.”
“And how long do you think that will take?” Silas persisted.
“I think you’ve seen in the recent past that such investigations can take some time. We clearly want to do it as quickly, yet as accurately, as possible.” Chief Loretta turned to look directly into the camera Wilbur had aimed at her. “And if any of your viewers have insight or information that might be of use to us, we would very much appreciate hearing from them.”
All very good and politically correct, I thought.
“We’d appreciate it, too,” said a now-familiar male voice from behind me, and I realized that what HS Schulzer was saying was true. His family wanted answers, which wasn’t surprising—it was what he’d emphasized during his father’s memorial service.
As I turned, Silas maneuvered around to once more stick his microphone into HS’s face, asking, “What does your family intend to do now, once your father is finally laid to rest, Mr. Schulzer?”
What did Silas want to know—whether HS and his sister and his aunt were going to jump into the investigation, too?
In a way, they had more reason to than I did. But even though I hadn’t seen anyone official pounce on Dinah yet, at least not too hard, there was enough I’d heard to concern me. And I would never allow someone I cared about be jumped on too hard as a murder suspect … unless I felt certain they’d done it.
I didn’t believe that of Dinah—even if I couldn’t exactly exonerate her completely in my mind.
I watched Francine Metz observing all this. Apparently she was willing to let Silas take the lead, at least for now.
“We intend to return to our lives.” This time it was Mabe answering. She looked so exhausted and so sad that I really wished that I had hard evidence against someone that I could turn over to the police and get this over with.
But on who? No one at Dinah’s party that night, despite Henry’s attitude toward us and vice versa. And despite my suspicions of Mike Holpurn and his brothers, I had no more evidence against them than I had against my wonderful, research-driven assistant. Mysha the dog walker? The neighboring Banners?
Me? No, I’d been at the party, and though I hadn’t liked Henry’s attitude, I hadn’t hated it badly enough to harm him.
The cops might have some additional evidence besides the knife they’d indicated was the murder weapon. But it must have had no useful fingerprints on it, or they’d surely have arrested someone already.
What else? Who else?
The whole situation was irritating as well as befuddling me, and I wasn’t sure where I could go with it now.
“Yes,” HS was saying, backing up his sister. “We both have jobs and things that we need to return to. Tula, too.” He looked at the cops. “We haven’t asked yet about this, but I assume we’re okay to go home after our dad is buried, right? We might stay a little longer, but we’d like to make that decision later.”
“That’s fine,” Chief Loretta said. “As long as we have all the information we need to contact you before you leave.”
But the discussion suggested that HS and Mabe and Tula were suspects of sorts, too. And why not? No one had seen them around town—at least, not that I knew about—but if one or more of them had been arguing with Henry, for any reason, who knew? Maybe one of them could have killed him and returned to their home, only to come back to Knobcone Heights for his memorial and burial.
I certainly preferred it to be one of them rather than someone I really knew. Although I still hoped it was Mike Holpurn or one of his brothers. They were the most logical killers, weren’t they?
“Of course,” Mabe said, glancing at HS, then Tula. They both nodded.
And why not? If officials from Knobcone Heights started arrest procedures against them when they were back home, they’d probably have time to disappear. Assuming, of course, they were guilty enough to pay attention to where the investigation was heading.
“So where do you live?” Silas piped in now.
Would any of them be foolish enough to tell that to the world?
“Quite a distance from here,” Mabe said, wisely. It was a response that Silas could use in his broadcast if he wanted but basically it said nothing.
“Near where your father lived after he moved away from here?” Silas persisted.
“Not exactly,” Mabe responded, and the others still said nothing. Good answer. That could mean they lived in a different house from Henry but in the same neighborhood, or that they lived in the same state, presumably California, or—well, it was vague enough not to pin any of them down.
I saw Loretta cast a glance toward her two detectives. “We need to leave,” she said.
“But you’ll keep the media advised as to anything you find?” Silas demanded.
“Any breaks in the case will be reported the way we usually do,” Loretta said. She aimed a smile at Francine, as if in appreciation of that reporter’s more polite approach to the situation. Did that mean the cops were more likely to give the Knobcone News first crack at any update?
I had no doubt that Francine hoped so.
That pretty much ended the post-memorial reception, since nearly everyone seemed to disperse. My group, too, began walking toward the parking lot.
On the way, I saw Billi with her City Council crowd. She separated from them as our eyes met, and I slowed down when she started to walk toward me.
“Do you have a few minutes?” she asked. “I want to talk to you about Prince and Duke.”
Seventeen
Of course I had time to talk. I was always happy to chat with Billi, and when the conversation was about dogs—which it often was with her—I enjoyed it even more.
Billi motioned me aside with a brisk tilt of her head. I glanced toward Reed, who’d remained near me throughout this sometimes difficult event, acting as my backup and friend and more, which I truly appreciated, as always. He must have seen Billi’s motion since he sent me a nod, and, good guy that he was, he walked over to where Neal, Janelle, and Dinah were talking and joined them.
I wondered about the gist of their conversation but figured I’d hear about it later from Reed, if not from the others, if anything important was brought up.
And now I could chat with just Billi.
Since many of the attendees at the memorial service appeared to be leaving, Billi and I simply walked off the sidewalk and onto the grass beside it and let people pass us.
Because this was a somber occasion, Billi, like the rest of the City Council members in attendance, wore a dark suit that probably would have been appropriate for a council meeting. I’d always considered her to be a pretty woman, with her smooth and attractive face framed by her nicely highlighted dark hair. At the moment, though, her attractiveness was hampered by a frown.
I opened my mouth to ask what was going on with the dogs but she beat me to it. “Would you believe that no one in this supposedly caring family wants to take in Henry Schulzer’s dogs?” Her scowl looked furious now, and her tone was more than irritated. “I made a point of asking them when I offered my condolences and they all looked
at me as if I were totally insane for even mentioning poor orphaned Prince and Duke.”
“Oh no,” I said. “That’s too bad. I assumed they’d want them since they said the dogs were descendants of some others raised by their mother years ago. You’d think they’d at least want that reminder of their mom. Or Tula might want them as a reminder of her brother.”
“I agree. But the dogs are what matter now. I’m going to find them a wonderful new home, preferably together—and then I’ll rub it in those dratted Schulzers’ faces. Maybe shame them a bit for not caring more about the dogs that Henry—or even probably Flora—really gave a damn about.”
“Great idea.” I appreciated what she’d said. But I also figured that these people wouldn’t care if the dogs were taken in by someone impressive, like a local politico or celebrity, or anyone else for that matter.
“You and I have been talking generally about holding another adoption event soon. Why not very soon, while those folks are still in town? I’ll have to get them to sign all the necessary paperwork to permit the adoption, but that shouldn’t be a problem, assuming they’re Henry’s appropriate heirs.”
“And assuming they’re willing to do what’s right for those dogs, even if they have no interest in them,” I said. Surely HS and Mabe would rather the pups find a new, loving home than stay in a shelter forever. Mountaintop Rescue was of course a no-kill shelter, but everyone’s preference there was to find the inhabitants a loving family.
“I certainly hope so,” Billi said. “Any chance of your stopping by tomorrow? Since it’ll be Monday, I assume you’ll have a shift at the vet clinic first?”
“Yes, I do,” I said. “And I’ll definitely come to see you afterward. We can start making plans then.”
“Great. See you.” With a wave, Billi turned and headed back toward a few of the City Council members who were still talking near the entry to the building.
For a Good Paws Page 15
