CHAPTER
twenty-six 
FROM HOLLYWOOF, I made the phone call to the Surgical Center for Canine Companions. As I waited for the line to ring, I grabbed a microfiber cloth and started cleaning around the store.
After the tenth ring, a woman picked up and said, “SCCC, can you please hold?”
“Sure.” The place must get busy. Why didn’t more of those local pet owners make their way over to my shop? I dusted the TV screen with extra vigor.
When the hold Muzak ended, the woman said, “Thanks for waiting. How may I help you today?”
“I need to confirm an appointment, but I can’t remember the date. It’s a surgery for my Chihuahua, Kale.”
“Let me look that up for you, ma’am.” A pause. “I’m reading the notes in the computer system. We will be able to issue you a refund—”
I fumbled the phone. “Excuse me?” The kerfuffle at the center. Tammy must have been trying to get her money back.
“We realize that it’s a stressful time for you, given your difficult personal situation.”
“Oh. Thanks for understanding.”
“Certainly. However, when we called your home number . . .” She clucked her tongue. “We got your, um, husband on the line. He insisted on keeping the surgery and paid for it out of his own pocket, mentioning how much his daughter adores Kale.”
“I see.”
“Well, glad we cleared that up.” Her voice burbled on. “Kale’s set for the nineteenth, then. Two in the afternoon. We’ll be sure to give you a reminder call the day before.”
The woman hung up. Was Tammy in so much emotional distress that she hadn’t wanted to go through with helping Kale? Not that I blamed her. Taking care of a recovering puppy during major life changes could only add extra stress.
I relayed my thoughts to Marshmallow. He didn’t say anything, but he twitched his whiskers at me.
After two shampoo appointments in the morning, my customer before lunchtime wanted to get her Havanese braided. Twisting the dog’s locks, I remembered the fun I’d had creating plaits in my little sister’s hair. The repetitive motion reminded me of happy childhood times.
The client also seemed pleased with the results. She gave me a large tip and took several business cards, promising to recommend me to her friends.
As I started to close down for lunch, someone burst into my shop. Maybe I could stay open a little bit longer. I did need the business.
But when I looked beyond my first impression of disheveled hair and a rumpled outfit, I realized I recognized the newcomer. “Nicola?”
She looked a mess and so unlike her usual sleek self. In her arms, she carried Sterling. “I came as quick as I could. You have to help me, Mimi.”
I saw her red-rimmed eyes and knew she’d been crying. “Is it the puppy?”
“No.” She gripped Sterling so tight, even that patient puppy whimpered. I extracted him from her arms and set him down on the ground. He wagged his tail at me.
I guided Nicola over to the nearby bench to rest. “What’s going on?”
She stuttered. “Mrs. Dalton found out that the bracelet is missing.”
“Oh no. How did she react?”
Nicola covered her eyes with her palms. “She’s going to fire me if I don’t bring it back by tomorrow.”
“Did you tell her where it is?”
“No.” She removed her hands from her face. “I did admit to borrowing it, but I said I couldn’t locate it in my home.”
“I can’t believe Lauren realized so soon. Your boss told me she had such a massive collection she could barely keep track of it.”
“She wouldn’t have noticed, but”—Lauren pointed at Sterling’s neck—“she put that on him today and wanted to match. She told me to take Sterling so I could remember what the bracelet looked like and find it ASAP.” The dog wore a gold-plated collar with a bone pendant, a larger version of the bracelet.
“Uh-oh.”
Nicola looked at me, clasping her hands together. “Please. You said you would help me.”
So I had. Why had I made such a rash promise? How could I get the bracelet from Shirl? She didn’t have any weak points, unless . . . That angle just might work.
“Come on, everyone,” I said. “Time for a road trip.”