Tail of two killers, p.1
Tail of Two Killers, page 1
part #4 of Dog Groomer Mysteries Series
TAIL OF TWO KILLERS
INCLUDES “BIG APPLE PIE” CROSSOVER NOVELLA
CHELSEA THOMAS
CONTENTS
Tail of Two Killers
Big Apple Pie - Bonus Crossover Story
TAIL OF TWO KILLERS
Copyright & Disclaimer: Tail of Two Killers © Chelsea Thomas, 2021
Disclaimer -- All rights reserved. No part of this eBook may be reproduced, stored or transmitted in any form, or by any means, including mechanical or electronic, without written permission from the author.
While the author has made every effort to ensure that the ideas, guidelines and information printed in this eBook are safe, they should be used at the reader’s discretion. The author cannot be held responsible for any personal or commercial damage arising from the application or misinterpretation of information presented herein.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to the actual events, locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
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Cover Design, Mariah Sinclair
Edited by, Megan Barnhart
CONTENTS
1. Dog Eat Dog
2. Where There’s Smoke, There’s Brian
3. Overcooked
4. Fluffy’s Tail, Part 1
5. Pet Projects
6. Family Jewels
7. The Family Jewels
8. Into the Deep End
9. Chuck-E-Peeved
10. A Room with a Clue
11. Like a Good Neighbor
12. The Cat’s Meow
13. Where Oh Where Has My Little Dog Groomer Gone?
14. Gremlins
15. One Mean Canteen
16. Compliments to the Chef
17. Cooking Up Trouble
18. The Great Pumpkin
19. Bad News
20. Fluffy’s Tail, Part 2
21. Washing Windows
22. Whining and Dining
23. Frosting on the Cake
24. Home, Neat, Home
25. Small Talk, Big Topics
26. Mechanical Difficulties
27. Holy Cow
28. Wild Goose Chase
29. Full Page Spread
30. Barking and Entering
31. Stung by a Sting
32. Fluffy’s Tail, Part 3
33. Ring Me Up
34. Paws for Concern
35. Birds of a Feather
36. Facts and Artifacts
37. Fluffy’s Tail, Part Four
38. Missing Aunt Action
39. Words of Wisdom
40. Following a New Lee-d
41. Hot Pocket
42. Dead Ringer
43. Dead Ends
44. Neat and Tidy
45. Planting Evidence
46. Fluffy’s Tail, Part 5
47. Dogs on Parade
1
DOG EAT DOG
“O rganic dog treats are easy to make at home unless you’re stupid,” the cooking instructor groaned as he dumped pumpkin purée into a mixing bowl. “Sadly for humanity, most people are real dumb.”
Granny and I exchanged confused glances. We were at the California Cooking Institute, a cooking school renowned for world-class instruction, but the guy teaching at the front of the room was far from world-class.
“This guy needs to quit his job, move to Alaska, and find himself. He’s clearly not happy at CCI.” Granny opened her can of pumpkin purée and poured it into a mixing bowl, just as the instructor had.
“He’s probably bitter that he has to teach a class on making dog treats,” I said. “All the instructors of these classes are students at the school. I don’t think most people come here and pay such high tuition to teach strangers how to cook for dogs.”
“The guy thinks people are dumber than dogs,” said Granny. “I’m pretty sure that’s a direct quote from earlier in the class. I’ll give him credit, he has a lot of creative ways to say people are dumb. Since the beginning of class, he’s compared people to stumps, rocks, and logs.”
I glanced back up at the instructor, who was at that point stirring his pumpkin purée like it had killed his mother. His name tag said “Brian,” although he’d told us to call him “Professor Lee.” Thick-rimmed glasses were perched on his nose, and he wore a white chef’s coat and puffy chef’s hat.
“Alright. So only a few more steps to make this gross mush into adorbs little doggie bones. Woo. Hoo. OK. When you’re done mixing this pumpkin, toss in half a cup of organic peanut butter. I’m not sure why dogs need to eat organic peanut butter, but you people paid a hundred and fifty dollars each to learn how to cook this junk, so maybe you can tell me.”
A chubby, older lady perked up in the front row. “My Harold deserves the best dog treats, made with love. He’s the cutest little Cocker Spaniel, and he’s been my companion for ten years. When I get sad, Harold – ”
The instructor held up his hand. “I’m sorry I asked. Dog people are nuts. Not as bad as cat people but close.”
A disgruntled murmur swept across the room. Every single one of us was a dog person or a cat person, or both. Although I wanted to empathize with the grumpy chef, I agreed with the woman up front. Animals deserved delicious treats just as much as humans deserved delicious people treats.
“I agree with that nice woman up front,” I said, projecting confidence in my voice. “Dogs are great, and they deserve nice things.”
The woman looked back and smiled at me. “Thank you.”
I smiled back. “You’re welcome.”
The woman perked up a little. “Hold on a second. You own that incredible pet salon, Creature Comforts, don’t you? I read about your shop in the Toluca Tribune, and I’ve been meaning to stop by. I heard you pamper pets perfectly.”
Granny chuckled. “That’s our motto.”
A sullen teaching assistant cleared her throat from her spot at the back of the room. “Let’s not get distracted, people. Professor Lee is only part way through his instruction.” The woman walked down the center aisle peering in the mixing bowls of each student as she passed. “From the looks of the sloppy work among the student body, you only seem to be paying half-attention.”
The woman wore chef’s whites like Professor Lee. But she had a much more alternative vibe than he did, complete with a nose ring and a large tattoo peeking up from her collar and climbing onto her neck. The woman’s energy was that of pure, unbridled apathy, if apathy is something that can be unbridled in the first place.
Granny nudged me. “I’m beginning to think this doggie treats cooking class might have been a waste of money.”
“At least it wasn’t our money,” I said. “The people of Toluca Lake pooled their funds to give us this gift after we solved our last mystery. It would’ve been rude if we didn’t attend.”
“Why couldn’t they have pooled some more substantial funds and gifted us a trip to Mexico?” Granny dumped some peanut butter into her mixing bowl. “Cheapskates. My, my, my. You’ve never truly danced until you’ve danced salsa with a hot, young Mexican man.”
“Granny.” My eyes widened, as did my smile. “Have you danced salsa with a hot, young Mexican man?”
“Not yet. That’s why I need this trip.”
The conversation with Granny had distracted me from my baking, so I hurried to catch up to the rest of the class. I plopped some pumpkin into the bowl. It was human grade and organic but didn’t look quite appetizing, all mushy and brownish-orange down there. Despite some hiccups, I truly was grateful for the opportunity to take the class, and I was glad to have the support of my community.
See, I grew up in Toluca Lake, but I spent the past few years living over on the East Coast in a little town called Pine Grove. Pine Grove was nice, and the people there are wonderful, especially the local amateur sleuths, Chelsea, Teeny, and Miss May. But I’d gotten my heart broken there, and I was a Southern California girl at heart, so I never quite felt at home in New York.
Once Granny and I moved back to Toluca Lake and opened up the pet salon, my life felt a bit more complete, like I was where I was supposed to be. Then we started solving mysteries. And we were good at it. It felt nice to bring justice to my hometown, and like I mentioned, I enjoyed all the community support.
I was shaken from my memories when a burly man with a big, red beard entered the classroom. The guy was in his forties, wearing nice jeans and a crisp button-down shirt embroidered with the CCI logo. “Sorry to interrupt,” he said. “I just wanted to stop in and personally welcome each of you to the California Culinary Institute. My name is Chuck, and I’m the owner here. Are we having fun today or what?”
The pudgy woman in the front row raised her hand and spoke without waiting to be acknowledged. “Nothing much fun at all. Professor Lee here is rude and condescending toward dogs and people. I feel worse now than I did this morning, and I had a headache then.”
A few other ladies piped up in agreement. Professor Lee rolled his eyes. “These animal people are ridiculous, Chuck. They’re all so particular and weird, and they have a strange smell about them. Plus, half of them are covered in dog hair. I came to the school to cook for humans, not animals.”
An insulted din of conversation rose among the women in the room. Granny chuckled. “This guy really needs that trip to Alaska.”
Chuck took a big step into the room and crossed his arms. “Professor Lee. That is no way to speak to your students. Can you please step out into the hall with me?”
Brian pulled his chef’s hat off, tossed it on the ground, and stormed into the hallway. Chuck gave us a placating smile. “Everything is going to be fine, I promise.”
2
WHERE THERE’S SMOKE, THERE’S BRIAN
Brian and Chuck argued for several minutes. Their entire conversation was plainly audible, and the classroom was as still as a sculpture garden as we all listened.
Brian complained that he hated both dogs and people and never wanted to teach the class in the first place. Chuck responded to the complaints by demanding that Brian do as he was told. Apparently, teaching was part of the course curriculum at the CCI, and Chuck was sick of Brian trying to worm his way out of his duties. The argument escalated to petty name-calling, then the teacher’s assistant with the neck tattoo took Brian’s place in front of the class. “Why don’t we break early for lunch today?” Her nervous smile was telling. “Our human food is even better than our dog food, and I believe corn chowder is on the menu.”
Twenty minutes later, Granny and I were sitting in a grand hall, each with a bowl of corn chowder before us. The cafeteria at the California Culinary Institute was legendary, and for good reason. The ceilings were fifty feet high, the windows were stained glass, and the long, wooden tables were stately and appeared handmade. The place seemed like it belonged at Harvard or Hogwarts.
“This place is incredible. I would pay a hundred and fifty dollars just to eat in this room.”
Granny shrugged. “The corn chowder is too salty. Have you tried yours?”
I shook my head and sipped my soup. “I like it. It must just be too plebeian for your refined palate.”
“My palate’s no elegant lady. But she knows when something’s too salty, and I’m saying this is too salty. You can’t tell? Are your taste buds taking the day off or something? Maybe you just burnt them off by trying this slop while it was too hot. Hey! Amy’s taste buds! You in there?”
Granny’s eyes met mine, a split second passed, then we both broke into laughter. “Feeling a little honest there?” I said.
“Seems like it, right?” Granny said. “Sorry, kid. Because I feel like I’m wasting my entire Saturday learning to make doggie treats.”
“The people of Toluca Lake—”
Granny held up a hand. “I know, I know. They appreciate it so much. Blah blah blah. Where is my hot little Mexican lad?”
I craned my neck, pretending to look around. “I’m not sure, but I don’t see one for me, either.”
“You’ve got enough men to last you a while,” said Granny. “What’s going on with that Jacob guy, anyhow?”
Jacob was my new neighbor. My cat Fluffy and Jacob’s cat Queen Elizabeth had made friends after the conclusion of our previous mystery investigation. Jacob and I had become friends, too, kind of… sort of. He had asked me if Granny and I would look into the disappearance of his aunt, which was a cold case the police had given up on years ago. I’d said yes because I felt bad for the guy. Also, he was kind of cute, but don’t tell Granny I admitted that.
“I haven’t really spoken to him since I met him while he was walking Queen Elizabeth, shortly after we finished our last investigation,” I said. “But we need to figure out how we’re going to find that missing woman. Imagine if your aunt just up and disappeared like that? It must be hard.”
Granny shrugged. “I was never close with any of my aunts.”
“Well, you know what I mean. I feel bad for the guy.”
Granny pushed her soup away with a look of disgust. “You feel bad for him, plus you think he’s cute. But you also kissed Detective Mike Fine for the first time after our last investigation.”
I looked down and muttered, “yeah, Mike Fine kissed me less than an hour before I met Jacob. Talk about timing.”
“So is this some kind of love triangle, Amy? You haven’t had good luck with men before. Don’t let things get complicated. Or, do. Maybe your love life was too simple before.”
“You wish. There’s no love triangle happening, Granny.”
Granny smirked. “It would be fun. Which guy’s cuter?”
“They’re cute in different ways,” I said. “Mike has those dark eyes and that beautiful caramel skin, and he’s goofy and funny. Jacob is confident, and he seems successful and… Hold on a second. You’re trying to draw me into a love triangle. My relationship with Jacob is purely professional. You and I are going to find his missing aunt. That’s final.”
“Fine. Then what’s the update with Mike? Are you going to take that relationship to the next level?”
“I told him I wasn’t going to kiss him again until we’ve gone on a proper date. Which, somehow, we still haven’t really managed.”
Granny pulled her soup bowl back toward her and took another bite. “How old-fashioned of you.”
“I thought you hated that soup, but now you’re eating it again,” I said.
Granny shrugged. “I’m hungry. I can deal with a little saltiness.” She opened a package of crackers and crumbled them into the soup. “If we’re going to find your hunky neighbor’s missing aunt, we need a plan.”
“I know,” I said, opening my own package of crackers. “But I’ve barely caught my breath since we solved this last investigation. Can we save planning until after the cooking class?”
Granny shrugged and kept eating her soup. “Sure.”
Suddenly, loud, fast footsteps charged into the cafeteria. “Brian Lee! Professor Lee! Are you in here?”
I turned toward the sound of the voice to find the owner of the school, Chuck, standing in the doorway. “Has anyone seen Professor Lee? That guy drives me nuts, man.” Chuck stood on a chair. “Lee! Are you in here?”
The teaching assistant, who I had since learned was named Jenna, stood on her chair. She scanned the room. “I don’t see him, Chuck.”
Chuck put his hand to his forehead and scanned the room like a pirate ship's captain. Jenna did the same. Tittering laughter rose among the soup eaters. Chuck’s face reddened. “Everyone quiet down. Stop laughing!”
The laughter got louder. Chuck, in a fury, climbed down off his chair and charged out of the room, once again calling for Professor Lee. Jenna followed him out of the room. Before I realized what I was doing, I, too, was following Chuck out of the room with Granny close behind me.
Outside, the grass on the quad was bright green, the California sky was bright blue, and the birds sang what sounded like a happy song. Chuck ruined all that with his bellowing and screaming, barking out Brian’s name like a cartoon dog as he bounded across the quad toward a small, brick building. As we neared the building, I noticed air-conditioning units perched in every windowsill and assumed the structure was used for student housing. Jenna trotted to try to keep up with Chuck. “I’m sure he’s just taking a nap or something,” she said.
“The second session starts in ninety seconds,” said Chuck. “No napping on the job.”
I quickened my pace, eager to keep up with Chuck so I could slip into the dormitory behind him when he entered.
Chuck cursed under his breath as he unlocked the door to the student housing building and entered. I broke into a run and reached the door just as it was about to close behind Chuck and propped it open with the toe of my New Balance sneaker. Granny caught up to me shortly thereafter, and the two of us slipped inside.
We found Chuck on the second floor of the building, pounding on the door of Room 205. The guy had a big, commanding presence, and I swear his fist was the size of my head. Bang, bang, bang. “Wake up, you idiot. Your second session starts now. Get out here, or you’re expelled!”
Jenna backed up from the door a few feet and bit her nails. I felt bad for the girl. How was she supposed to learn or thrive in such a tumultuous environment?
Chuck kept banging on the door. “Open up, or I’m breaking this door down!”
Granny and I exchanged nervous glances. I was rooting for Brian, even though he was a jerk and a bad teacher. I didn’t want him to get expelled or lose his prospects as a chef just because of a quick cat nap. I silently prayed that Brian would open the door and have a good excuse for his absence. If I had to bet, I’d say Granny was hoping for the opposite, willing Chuck to kick the door down and increase the tension even more.
