Tail of two killers, p.5
Tail of Two Killers, page 5
part #4 of Dog Groomer Mysteries Series
Jacob had short hair, like, military short. And it looked like when it wasn’t short, it would probably have been curly. But, I decided to keep the joke alive. “Sure. I think ponytails would look great on you.”
Oh no. I had officially begun flirting. What was that Granny had said about my personal code of conduct? And hadn’t she also mentioned the prospect of me jumping into Jacob’s arms? The voice in my mind screamed one word at me, “Mike.” It screamed it over and over and over. I tried to push the voice away, but the harder I pushed, the louder it screamed. It wasn’t like Jacob and I were doing anything wrong. Nor were Mike and I an official couple. But the feeling of flirting with another guy made me feel all tingly and nervous and, OK, kind of good.
Jacob and I joked a little while longer about his curly ponytail, but the flirting came to an abrupt halt when he brought up the elephant in the room. “Have you learned anything useful about my missing aunt? I told my mom that you and your grandma were on the case, and she was so excited.”
My stomach dropped through the street and into the sewer line. “Honestly, it’s been hard. We’ve never taken on a cold case before, and another investigation has come up and… We haven’t made as much progress as I would have liked.”
“Hey, she’s been missing ten years, and I don’t expect you to solve this thing too fast. I’m sure you’re doing your best.”
A bell rang. Jacob and I hurried off to join the cooking class. I sat with Granny in the back, and he sat clear across the room. Good, I thought. I don’t need any distractions right now. I’ve got more than one case to solve.
12
THE CAT’S MEOW
The instructor of the cat food cooking class was none other than Brian’s former teaching assistant, Jenna. When I’d met Jenna a couple days prior, she’d struck me as a nervous and unsettled woman. But the version of Jenna that taught the class on cat food made that previous Jenna look calmer than a sleeping kitten.
First of all, Jenna blustered into the classroom ten minutes late, balancing a stack of books and papers between her arms and her chin. She dropped the mountain of documents on her desk with a sigh and a string of curse words, then looked around the room like she was surprised to see students sitting there looking at her.
“Oh. Hi, everyone. Sorry, it’s been a really long day. It’s been a really long bunch of days, actually. I don’t know if any of you heard about what’s going on here… Nevermind. That’s just not important.” She shook out her arms as though shaking out jitters and then plastered a smile on her face. “You’re all here to learn how to make cat food for your beloved felines. Why someone would want to waste money on top-shelf ingredients for a cat is beyond me, but I’ve been told I’m teaching this course, so here I am.”
Jacob made eye contact with me from across the room. He gave me a little smirk as if to say, “This should be fun.” I returned the smirk and then quickly looked back to Jenna, doing my best to avoid what the romantic professionals would call ‘lingering’ or ‘steamy’ eye contact.
Jenna launched into her lecture by listing all the foods that are good for cats to eat and all of the foods that are bad for cats to eat. I noticed several students shifting their weight impatiently as Jenna spoke. We all knew what ingredients to feed our cats. We were there because we wanted to learn how to make those ingredients as delicious as possible for our furry or, in my case, fluffy, friends.
Jenna must have felt the growing unrest among the students because she began to rush through her presentation. At one point, she dropped all her note cards and then punched her desk and cursed. If you’ve never seen a tattooed cooking instructor curse about cat food, I would recommend it. The absurdity made both me and Granny giggle.
My laughter faded quickly as I realized Jenna’s erratic and unpredictable behavior might have had something to do with the tragedy that struck the cooking school earlier that week. What if she had somehow been involved in Brian’s death? What if she knew something we didn’t know, and the stress was causing her to crack?
I leaned over to Granny and whispered, “We need to chat with Jenna after class. This behavior is suspicious.”
“No talking!” Jenna yelled. “Sorry. That was, like, really loud. But please don’t talk about what I’m trying to teach. It’s just, like, rude or whatever.”
I could feel Jacob’s eyes on me, along with the eyes of every other student in the class, but I chose not to look in his direction. Instead, I muttered an apology and pretended to jot down a few notes about cat food.
After class, I found Jacob waiting for me out in the hall with that signature little smirk on his face. He raised his eyebrows. “You got in trouble.”
I gave Jacob a casual shrug. “I’ve always been one of the bad kids. Back in high school, I once slept late and then pretended my tardiness was due to a doctor’s appointment.”
“That is bad,” said Jacob, smiling. “Hey, so, I don’t know what you’re doing right now, but would you and your grandma maybe like to join me for some human food? It’s weird, but that class made me hungry? My treat.”
A quick glance out to the quad told me Jenna was already hurrying back to the dorm area with a cigarette in her mouth. I remembered that she might be a suspect in Brian’s murder, and I didn’t want to let her get away. “Can we have a rain check? I was hoping to chat with the professor about Fluffy’s diet real quick. You know… just to make sure he stays… fluffy.”
“Rain check sounds good to me. You’re a good cat owner. I like that.”
“I own a pet salon, so I feel like… It’s kind of a basic requirement that I love animals.” I turned to Granny. “Ready to go chat with Jenna?”
Granny gave me a strong nod. “Let’s do it.”
Granny and I darted across the quad, arm in arm. “Jenna! Wait up!”
Jenna turned back. She had an unlit cigarette in her mouth, and her brow was furrowed. “I’m sorry. If you have any questions, I can’t answer them. I’m not a cat food cook. That was probably, like, obvious from my lecture back there.”
“I thought you did a good job. You kept things interesting, and I’d imagine that’s a challenge when you're tasked with cat food as your topic.”
Jenna cocked her head and looked at Granny with interest. “OK, good. Cat food is boring, right? I mean, I love animals just as much as the next girl. I have four tattoos of birds, but teaching the class was tough.”
I took a step toward Jenna. “I bet. I mean, if I were a student here, I think I might have had to take this whole week off. One of your colleagues passed away so recently. I was surprised there were still any classes being offered this week.”
“Yeah. You’re totally right. We should have been given the week off. I mean, I have so much going on in my personal life right now.”
“Romantic problems?” Granny asked.
“That’s one way to put it. I’ve been torn between two guys forever.”
Granny gave me a playful elbow, and I elbowed her back without looking away from Jenna.
“The first guy… was a safe choice. I don’t want to sound mean, but he was kinda boring, OK? Just, like, normal. Normal-looking, with normal career aspirations, and a normal life.”
“Tell us about the other guy,” I said.
“He’s not boring at all. He’s tough, and he stays out late, and he’s macho. More than that, he has so much going on in his life. Did you see the LA Times last Friday? The dining section had a whole article on this guy’s restaurant, Canteen. I mean, yeah, he has some issues… He’s unstable and maybe a little dangerous. But life is unstable and dangerous, so I think he makes me feel alive.”
Jenna pulled the cigarette out of her mouth and rolled it in her fingers. I made a mental note that she, like Brian, was a smoker. I didn’t assign much meaning to that fact, however, because I knew lots of people in the service industry smoked. Something about all the late nights and access to alcohol seems to encourage smoking. Plus, Jenna seemed to enjoy living on the wild side, based on her romantic interest in this debaucherous chef she described.
“I like bad boys quite a bit myself,” said Granny. “But I tend to draw the line when it gets dangerous. What did you mean when you said this guy was unstable like that?”
Jenna took a step backward a foot and blinked in a frantic, nervous way. “No. Nothing. I didn’t, like, I didn’t mean anything by that. He’s not dangerous in any serious way or anything. He’s a sweetheart deep down. Ugh. Why do I talk so much?”
Every time I thought I had seen Jenna at her most jittery, she got even more shaken. At the moment, I wondered if her dangerous, romantic interest might have known Brian. I wanted to ask, but Jenna was already so uncomfortable in the conversation, I decided to lay off.
Jenna stammered her way through a few more sentences, then bid us goodbye and disappeared into the dormitory building. Once she was gone, I couldn’t help but wonder…
Could she or her bad boy lover have something to do with Brian’s death? And if so, what might their motive have been? Could this all be wrapped up in Riley Lee’s missing family jewelry?
The only way to find out was to dive deeper into Jenna’s life. And that meant finding out more about this bad boy she couldn’t seem to quit.
13
WHERE OH WHERE HAS MY LITTLE DOG GROOMER GONE?
G ranny had to go to the Commerce Casino that morning to play in some kind of Earlybird poker tournament, so I departed CCI and headed off to Creature Comforts, looking forward to chatting with Betsy. But when I got to the pet salon, the door was locked, and Betsy was nowhere to be found.
I checked my Casio digital watch. Yeah, I was a couple minutes early, but Betsy usually showed up bizarrely early to work. A warm feeling of dread started to form in my stomach. Perhaps I’d spent too much time investigating murders, but Betsy’s absence worried me.
I unlocked the front door to the salon and dialed Betsy at the same time. She answered on the first ring. “Hey, boss.” Her voice was as clear and happy as usual. The warm dread cooled slightly in my gut.
“Hey. Just wanted to make sure you’re alright. I just showed up at work, but you’re not here.”
“I sent you several emails this morning.” I heard voices chattering in the background wherever Betsy was. “You need to check your emails more often. Important business stuff happens on the Internet. You own the salon. I shouldn’t have to be reminding you of this.”
Betsy spoke as though she’d admonished me to be better with email many times over the years, but that was the first I’d ever heard of this particular complaint. Instead of pointing that out, I checked my email, swallowed the thought, and opened the mail app on my phone. Sure enough, I had several messages from Betsy, each with an increasingly urgent subject line. The subject lines read as follows:
Hey boss – important work scheduling update
Boss? Please confirm schedule change.
Alert: schedule change needed
Amy – why don’t you check your email? – this is important
I can’t make it to work today
“Hello?” Betsy said, sounding a little perturbed. “Are you there?”
“Just reading the subject lines of your many emails,” I said. “I’m sorry I missed those. You’re fine, though? It seems like something really urgent is happening.”
“Urgency has a negative connotation, but this is more of a positive thing. I blasted my script out to a hundred of the least known literary agents in Los Angeles. These people are the bottom of the bucket, Amy. They’re the worst of the worst. Twelve out of the hundred asked to meet me today. I told you my script was good.”
I narrowed my eyes. “That’s really great, Betsy. Although, I think your work deserves top representation, and I’m not sure you should settle for—”
“Gotta go,” said Betsy. “The agent I’m meeting just came back from the bathroom. Before he went to the bathroom, he asked me to pay for his coffee, so I did. I think he might want to sign me.”
Betsy hung up, and so did I. What a weird morning, I thought. Then I got to work preparing for my grooming clients that day. Grooming dogs is always fun, but I’ll admit I was distracted throughout the afternoon. My mind should have been completely on my adorable little clients, but instead I found myself thinking about Brian and Chuck and Jenna’s mysterious, dangerous boyfriend.
By the time I got home, I needed to blow off some steam, so I snapped the leash on Lucky and headed to my favorite dog park over in the adjacent town of Burbank. The Burbank dog park is a beautiful patch of green grass with a sloping hill and tunnels for the dogs to run through and everything else an animal could ever want.
Also, the park was off-leash, which both Lucky and I loved. As soon as we got there, I unclipped the leash. Lucky darted out into the field, chasing his own tail while barking and having the time of his relatively short but adorable life. I took a seat on a bench overlooking the field, leaned back, and felt a smile spread across my face like butter melting on a pancake. Dog parks are one of my top three happy places. The other two are pet salons everywhere, not just mine, and also anywhere in nature. I know that’s kind of cheating because my top places involve lots of different places, but this is my list, so leave me alone. I love lots of stuff, OK?
Before long, Lucky started playing with a big, handsome German Shepherd out in the center of the field. The two dogs made fast friends, tumbling together in the grass, chasing one another and jumping happily. I laughed and took out my phone to take a video to send to Betsy and Granny. Then I noticed that the German Shepherd looked familiar. Very familiar.
I quickly realized the dog was Officer Carmichael, Detective Mike Fine’s police canine. That’s the one thing about living in a small town… You can’t go anywhere without running into a love interest or two. I scanned the dog park, my eyes darting from one bench to another, until I spotted Mike sitting on the bench right across from me. We made eye contact right away, he gave me a casual wave, stood, and crossed through the dogs toward my bench. I slid over and patted the seat next to me. He sat down.
“Amy Stewart. I should’ve known I would see you here. Let me guess, you’re handing out your business cards to dog owners to try to get more business. Smart. Man, you’ve always impressed me with how smart you are. That’s why I cheated off of you in high school chemistry.”
I turned and looked at Mike with a smile. “You did not cheat off me.”
Mike shook his head. “I was too dumb to cheat. You know? Yeah, it’s a shortcut, but cheating still requires mad skills. I got an F in that class. Lucky for me, there’s no chemistry involved in my life these days. Except romantic chemistry.”
“OK, now that’s cheesy,” I said.
“You know I love cheese. Mozzarella, Gouda, Swiss. Nevermind. Swiss is disgusting. I’m sure some people like it, so no judgment, but gross.”
Mike and I sat back and watched the dogs playing together for a little while. Mike put his arm along the bench behind where I was sitting. His arm wasn’t touching me but was centimeters away, and I could feel the warmth emanating from his body. I scooted ever so slightly closer to Mike on the bench, then he did the same. We continued this odd mating ritual for a few minutes until our legs were just barely touching.
I liked that neither of us felt the need to talk throughout any of this. We just sat there and enjoyed the moment together, no pressure and no conversation. Until Mike broke the silence with a long, drawn-out, “Soooooo…”
I chose not to look over at him. “So what?”
“That kiss the other night… I liked it.”
A huge laugh erupted from somewhere deep inside me. No one had ever accused Mike Fine of being overly smooth. No wonder he was no good at cheating in class. “I liked it too, Mike. But you know how I feel, I mean, my relationship history is…”
“Yes. That’s why I’d like to officially invite you to be my date to the upcoming ‘LA County Police Pancake Breakfast.’ It’s this big breakfast the cops hold at midnight, and there are games and prizes to win and a raffle, like a carnival or whatever. I might be the guy who sits above a tank of water, and people throw balls to dunk me.”
“I’d like to see that.” I bit my lip. Was that too suggestive? Did it sound like I was talking about seeing Mike with his shirt off? That’s what I was talking about. So who cares if he knew it?
“I bet you would.” Mike turned to me with his eyebrows raised. “So is it a date? Friday. Midnight.”
I swallowed. If I said yes, I’d be taking a step further in my relationship with Mike and, by the law of relationship theorems, a step further from any possible relationship with Jacob. I liked being with Mike, and our kiss really was great.
But there were downsides. Mike was someone I’d gone to high school with. Like a familiar t-shirt. Comfortable, but too worn-in? Jacob represented possibilities and new things. Plus, Mike was a detective, and we often found ourselves at odds when we were both investigating the same murder.
On the other hand, he had worked well with me on previous investigations. Not that sleuthing was the most important thing in a relationship. The most important thing was… that the other person added to your life. Mike definitely added to my life. That last point tipped the scale in Mike’s direction.
“OK. It’s a date.”
14
GREMLINS
“Hold still, Gremlin. I’m doing this for your own good.”
The unfortunately named Golden Retriever I was grooming writhed and squirmed as I attempted to clear the gunk from his eyes. It was almost like the gunk had sentimental value to the dog, but I knew it wasn’t healthy for him, and it was my job to clear it out.
We had a little leash attached to the grooming table so the dogs couldn’t jump off or escape when they got squirmy. Sometimes I thought the attachment felt unnecessary because so many dogs, surprisingly, were pretty relaxed during grooming. But pups like Gremlin reminded me how wrong that was. The attachment saved me from a sassy dog zooming through the pet salon, and I was grateful for it.
