FRIDAY CAME WITHOUT FANFARE. I hadn’t heard from or seen Randy Mann in recent days. Yuri had moved back home. My delayed conversation with Laney had produced nothing but more indecision. Mom acted as if our congenial chat about wanting me to be happy had never happened. Jason kept trying to exact rewards for his one act of obedience. Mara placed second with a science project. And things had returned to relative normal. Except for the need to be constantly vigilant, just in case.
Then, with just a few days to go before the election, the Knight campaign finally came out with a negative ad about Bobby Mann. It was their first negative ad and it was based on a single true fact: Mann was not from the area. Given that he was from the east coast and had only recently moved to the Pacific Northwest, the ad claimed he didn’t know or relate to local issues as well as Knight did.
The press went wild, focusing on the fact that both sides had gone negative, labeling the entire race the most negative ever seen in the state. No one seemed to care about the number of negative ads put out by each side or what was true and what wasn’t true. The headlines were that both candidates had gone negative. Both were equally “bad.”
In spite of all the money being spent, and in spite of the heightened sense of urgency and negativity, the polls suggested that the race remained a dead heat. Both sides were no doubt frustrated by that. I know I was. No matter what the candidates said or did, the voters remained evenly divided.
Shortly after the evening news, it happened. An event that would change our lives.
A barking dog shattered the silence of early evening. It barked and barked, right outside our front door. Under normal circumstances I would have simply gone out to see what was happening. But for all we knew, it was a trap. What kind, I wasn’t sure. Jason and Mara both wanted to take a look. Then Mom came down to complain, and I finally got up the courage to see what the commotion was all about.
When I opened the door a crack, a black, moist nose tried to pry the door open more. The barking changed to whining.
“It’s a dog, Mom,” Jason said. “He wants in.”
That much was obvious, but why?
“Oh, just open the damn door,” Mom said. She grabbed the doorknob and a medium-sized black and white dog came bounding in and ran right into Jason’s outstretched arms. I was staring at Jason, trying to figure out what was happening, while he rubbed the dog’s head and buried his face in the dog’s neck fur. That’s why I didn’t notice the dark figure looming in our doorway until Mom said, “You might as well come in. The damage is done.”
When I saw Yuri standing there, all I could think of to say was, “You didn’t.”
Yuri at least had the decency to look guilty. “Well, I knew Jason wanted a puppy, and when my neighbor moved out and abandoned his dog….” He raised his eyebrows looking for approval that I denied him with a glare. “I thought since this guy is already house-trained.” He looked down at Jason and the dog. “He’s had his shots. He’s been neutered. And … he’s cute.”
“He is cute.” Mara said as she patted him on the back. “What’s his name?”
The dog looked up, one ear flopped forward, the other stood straight up as if he was anxiously awaiting Yuri’s answer.
“I’m not sure. I never paid any attention.”
“We’ll have to figure that out,” Jason said. “Max, he looks like a Max.”
The dog stared blankly at Jason.
“How about Gizmo?” Jason waited but the dog didn’t respond.
“Beau?” Mara ventured. Still no response.
“Thor?” Jason tried.
“Spike.” Mara said.
“Tucker.”
“Duke.”
“He doesn’t look like a Duke,” Jason said firmly.
“Well, he doesn’t look like a Tucker either,” Mara countered.
The dog sat down and watched while Jason and Mara sparred. I knew that I needed to nip this in the bud right away, before the naming ceremony ended and the dog officially became part of the family. “Jason,” I began, but Mom cut me off.
“There’s no reason why we couldn’t have a dog. It might be reassuring.” The dog turned toward her, and she took a step back. “As long as you keep him downstairs.”
I looked at the kids. “Who’s going to feed him and clean up after him?”
Just as I anticipated, Jason said, “I’ll do that, Mom. He’s my dog.”
Everyone was staring at me, waiting for me to give in. And even though I knew Jason would soon tire of the feeding and cleaning up, I felt like there was only one answer.
“We’ll give him a try.”
Mara and Jason whooped and the dog leapt up and started barking.
“For a week,” I added, trying to look firm. Unless he bit one of them, I knew in my heart that a week would only make it more difficult to get rid of him. I wondered if a tiny bite would leave a scar.
Friday evening, I was home alone. Except for the still-unnamed dog. I thought of him as “Nuisance,” but I didn’t dare suggest naming him that. Jason and Mara were trying to think of a name that was either cute or clever. I just wanted it to be something easy to shout when I was trying to get him to come in. For that reason, I’d already vetoed T-Rex, McDuff, Columbo, Hamlet and Beethoven. I was leaning toward Fang, although Pest or Devil-dog seemed like possibilities. Cerberus was too much of a mouthful.
The animal did seem to have a good disposition, but he wasn’t all that happy being stuck at home with me. He kept trying to lay on my feet, and whenever I nudged him aside, he would stare up at me as if I’d treated him badly. I just didn’t like having a dog on my feet. But there I was, me and no-name, my feet covered in dog, while everyone else was off having a good time.
Mom was out on a date with a man she’d met online. They had agreed she could bring a friend along so she would feel safer. They were all meeting at a nearby restaurant for dinner. Before leaving she had pointed out how easy it was to meet someone if you were willing to “extend yourself a little.” HINT.
Jason was staying overnight with Theo. He and his mother had finally returned to their home, reluctantly leaving their temporary Vashon Island hideaway. With only the weekend to go and nothing published or even in the queue for publication, we decided whoever it was that had burgled Gretchen’s house probably knew she was no longer an immediate threat. But if she was going to continue pursuing stories about corporations with a lot to lose, she would have to figure out how to do so and remain safe. For the time being, she had asked a friend to stay with her, the theory being there was safety in numbers.
At first, I’d hesitated when Jason asked to stay overnight with Theo, then decided I was being hypocritical. If I truly believed that Gretchen and Theo were safe in their home, why wouldn’t I let Jason stay with them? Anyway, what made me think he was any safer at home with me? Reluctantly, I’d given him permission. I’d wanted to send his dog along with him, but Gretchen had vetoed it. I couldn’t blame her. She had enough to worry about.
Mara was at a sleepover with half a dozen friends. I was just thankful it was happening at someone else’s house. Letting a group of young girls spend the night together could be exhausting for them and for the host parents. I anticipated the girls would stay up most of the night and that Mara would return mid-morning happy but bushed.
Yuri called a couple of times to talk about how the various campaigns were doing. And probably to check up on me. He knew I was still miffed about the dog. And he was worried about me being at home by myself. I assured him that having a watch dog was just as good as having a friend with a gun hanging out on our sofa.
On the one hand, it was nice to have some time alone, even alone with a dog. On the other hand, things seemed unnaturally quiet. I had the television on low, watching for campaign ads and updates while trying to read the same book I’d been reading for the last month. I couldn’t remember the plot but resisted starting over. It was only a page turner in the sense that ever so often I would turn over another page.
I glanced up at an ad, and something caught my eye. I paused the TV and hit rewind to watch it again. There she was, the former Ashley Price. Previously a professional loser, now perhaps about to become the wife of a member of Congress. The ad featured the entire family, all looking friendly and happy. Except for Ashley. The campaign had not been kind to her. She looked tired. I wondered if Mom was right about the cosmetic surgery. I didn’t remember seeing references to her age anywhere. Although it would have been easy to check. Not that her age made any difference. Except how she might feel about getting older. Thinking about her life and what lay ahead.
Looking at her standing there, hoping to become the wife of a winner, a thought crossed my mind. I wondered how far she was willing to go to save her husband’s campaign. And to secure her own future. She hadn’t hesitated to harass Laney Knight, but that was a far cry from committing or facilitating a murder to prevent Brian’s research from being made public. But what if the murder had been an impulsive act brought on by anger and fear of failure? Of course, that didn’t explain what she had been doing at the campaign headquarters after hours. Unless she had specifically gone there to meet with Brian.
Could Brian have contacted her and requested a meeting? Maybe everyone had misjudged him, and he wanted to make some money off of his discoveries. Or maybe he thought he could trick her into revealing some damaging information about her husband or his family. On the other hand, it was even possible he had some connection that made him sympathetic to her situation. Maybe he’d gone there to warn her about what was going to happen.
Then again, it was possible it had been the other way around. She might have learned about what he was doing and asked to meet him there. Perhaps she hoped to pay him off, and, when that failed, she’d eliminated the threat.
For the sake of argument, I gave her the benefit of the doubt. The murder may not have been premeditated but an impulsive act of desperation. I imagined Ashley standing over Brian’s body, frightened, appalled at what she had done. What would she have done next? Would she have simply run away and hoped there was nothing to link her to the crime? Or would she have calculated her options, thought about who she could call for help. And if so, who would she have turned to? Certainly not her husband. That might not only have placed their marriage in jeopardy, it would have put him in an untenable position in his run for office. But what if she had called on his street-wise brother and protector? How would Randy have responded? Would the Manns have rallied around and helped her hide the heinous crime from the law? And if so, for how long? I could picture them wanting to keep the lid on things, at least until after the election. If Bobby won, a wife, even a trophy wife with connections, might be considered expendable; the Congressional seat was everything. And if he lost, she would definitely be a disposable liability.
But, in my imagined scenario, killing Brian hadn’t made the problem go away. Cornered by Gossett, had Ashley struck again? Or had the Manns stepped in to save their family reputation by eliminating him?
Realistically I knew that threatening the opposition and looking tired in an ad didn’t make Ashley a murderer. And there was probably no way to prove she had somehow found out that Brian Norcross had been compiling a list of companies and illegal activities that could potentially have sabotaged her husband’s campaign. And if she had managed to locate his research, she would hardly have left any evidence behind.
But what if Jim Gossett had a copy—or made Ashley believe he did—would he have used the information to try to extort money from her? She may have seemed an easy target, wealthy in her own right and desperate for her husband to win. Easier to manipulate than the Mann family members. If only I could find a direct link between Ashley and Brian. Or between her and Jim Gossett.
I called Yuri and ran my theory past him. He liked it but didn’t think it was something we could or should pursue. He encouraged me to call Detective Connolly. “Maybe he doesn’t have a date tonight either.”
After hanging up, I gave calling Connolly some serious thought. But it wasn’t much of a theory, and there were more questions than answers at this point. Like, how did the murders relate to the threats against Gretchen? And the shots fired at Yuri and me in the parking lot? It didn’t seem reasonable to lay all of that at Ashley’s feet. Maybe Randy Mann was responsible for the burglary and threats but not the murders. Or maybe Jim Gossett wanted to make sure he was the only one with Brian’s information so he could blackmail Ashley. And maybe some bored kid with daddy’s gun had taken potshots at us for fun. There were too many loose ends.
For an insane moment, I fanaticized about calling Randy Mann and asking him if he had included Ashley in his family disclaimer. Assuming he’d told me the truth when he’d said no family members were responsible for Brian’s death. The key question was whether, if Ashley was guilty and the family knew, would they close ranks and protect her? At least until after the election?
In the long run, it seemed to make more sense to noodle on the idea a while longer. There were a couple of things I could look into in the morning. Until then, I would have a glass of wine, put my feet up and try to enjoy the silence.
Unfortunately, no-name had other ideas. He wanted to go out. At least that’s how I read his head-butting-my-knee message. With a groan, I got up and attached the leash to his collar, both recent gifts from Yuri as an attempt to make amends for giving us the dog in the first place. Even though the last thing I wanted to do was take a dog out to relieve himself, I couldn’t let him out on his own. If I did and he ran away, Jason would never forgive me. Even without a name, the dog was already part of the family.
When Mom got back from her “date” I was asleep on the sofa, dreaming about being lost in the woods, looking for a dog. She woke me up and told me to go to bed. At first, I was confused about where I was and what was happening. There was a dog lying on the floor next to the sofa. I must have found him in the woods. Then I remembered why there was a dog in our living room. As I came fully awake and sat up, no-name woke up and jumped in my lap. “No, dog,” I said, pushing him off. Then, feeling guilty, I rubbed his head behind his ears. He seemed to like that. Then I turned to Mom and asked, “How was it?”
She sat down at the end of the sofa, avoiding contact with no-name, and sighed before replying. “He was older than his online picture.”
“How much older?”
“Let’s put it this way, he looked his age.”
“So, no second date?”
“No, but the threesome idea worked out okay. As a safe way to meet someone. And the two of them hit it off, my date and my friend. She is apparently attracted to older men.”
“Oh, I’m sorry it didn’t pan out.” I hesitated before adding, “At least you tried.” When she didn’t follow up with a snide comment or a reference about my lack of trying, I knew just how disappointed she actually was.
She stood up. “Go to bed,” she said. “Tomorrow you need to clean this place up.” No-name was eyeing her as if trying to decide whether she was friend or foe. I wondered if I should warn him not to take food from her. “Vacuum the house,” she added. “It’s a good thing he’s a short-hair.” With that she turned and went upstairs.
Without anyone to wake me up, I slept in much later than usual, surprised to find the dog stretched out next to me on the bed when I woke up. Of course, I didn’t realize he had joined me until he licked my face with his rough tongue, apparently urging me to get up so he could get on with his day.
“Yuk,” I said, pushing him aside. “No licking, got that? I don’t like to be licked.” He grinned at me, jumped off the bed and headed for the front door, glancing over his shoulder to make sure I was following.
There was no way this was going to become the norm. Letting him lick my face to wake me, waiting to get dressed until after I took him outside. We needed to get him an official bed and make him sleep in it at night. And I would have to make sure my door was securely shut after I went to bed.
We had agreed to train no-name to always go to the bathroom in the same place off to the side of the house, but it seemed too far from the front door when I was still in my pajamas. I was also supposed to say “go potty” when I took him to his bathroom spot so he would learn to go on command. But I felt stupid saying that, so I just shortened his leash and motioned at the ground next to the porch. Fortunately, no-name got the message, and I dutifully scooped up his efforts. I wondered if no-name would defend me against an assault. Maybe we could have him trained as a guard dog and personal protector, aggressive on command.
I quickly put down some food for our new family member and grabbed a cup of coffee for myself before heading for my computer. No-name wolfed down his food and was resting on my feet before my computer booted up. At least I wasn’t going to have to worry about cold feet in the future.
Sometime during the night I’d thought of one possible way to check out whether Ashley and Jim had ever come in contact. There were a number of times when the two campaigns were at the same events, including the recent Oktoberfest parade. Both candidates and their wives had walked in part of the parade, followed by a tour of the food booths, stopping to sample brats, pretzels and other German specialties while shaking hands with potential voters. Both candidates had been judges in the costume contest. It was all very upbeat and congenial—on the surface.
What I needed was a picture putting Jim and Ashley in close proximity. The two of them talking together would be even better, but I thought that was probably too much to hope for.
Two and a half hours later, I’d gone through four cups of coffee and an endless stream of online campaign pictures posted by the campaigns and various news organizations. I googled rallies, parades, sporting events, forums, speeches. On and on it went. Not all of the pictures were in chronological order. And many weren’t labeled. If I found something, I might still not be able to identify the time and date with precision.
No-name had disappeared into the other room. I wasn’t sure whether his silence was a good sign or not, but I was too obsessed with my online search to go check.
When Mara returned from her sleepover at noon, I was still in my pajamas at my computer. She stuck her head in and informed me she was home and was going to take a nap. I asked how the sleepover had been and she mumbled a “good” before disappearing.
“Check on the dog, will you?” I called after her. I think I heard a mumbled “sure,” followed by “not my dog.”
Gretchen popped in to say hello when she brought Jason home. She was surprised to see me disheveled and still not dressed for the day. “I can’t stay; my friend is in the car with Theo.” She sounded like she thought she had an obligation to help me get my act together.
“Just a minute,” I said, “I have something to show you.” But first I had to make sure Jason was tending to no-name. I needn’t have worried. The two of them were rolling around on the floor, happy as can be. I went back to my computer and told Gretchen my idea and what I was looking for.
“No way,” she said. “Not the lovely Ashley.”
“Being good looking doesn’t mean you’re an angel.”
“But murder?”
“Why not? It’s an equal opportunity act.”
“Well….” She couldn’t think of any reason to counter my suggestion, except for, well, lack of facts. “Maybe I can help,” she said. “I can log into newspaper archives for pictures. You never know.”
“That would be great.”
“One thing though—you have to promise that if you find something, you will give me an exclusive.”
“Deal. Although I wouldn’t count on it if I were you.”
I finally got dressed Saturday afternoon. I did a few chores, mostly to please Mom. I couldn’t believe I was a grown woman with two children and still trying to please my mother. But that’s my reality. Every so often I would return to my computer and search for pictures or some other evidence that would place Jim and Ashley at the same event.
Gretchen called later to tell me that the only thing she’d found so far was a blurry picture from the Oktoberfest parade. It was definitely Ashley, and it could be Brian. But it wasn’t clear enough to tell for sure, and she had no way of making the image any better. She was sorry and would keep looking. But she wasn’t hopeful.
Saturday ended on a downer. No leads. And the race was still neck and neck.