CHAPTER
twenty-eight 
BACK AT HOLLYWOOF, I reached into my purse and handed over the bracelet to Nicola. “Like I promised,” I told her.
She breathed a sigh of relief. “Now everything will work out perfectly.”
I left her dreaming about her movie star future as I hustled Sterling into the back for a much-needed bath. In the sink, he seemed to luxuriate in the suds.
What a difference acupuncture had made. He didn’t yelp at me or tremble in pain. Though his knee still didn’t slip into the exact correct position, I could massage him in the bath without a struggle.
I dried his fur to silky smooth and gave him a quick cuddle. “I’m so glad for you, Sterling.”
He himself did a circle dance of happiness on the grooming table. Then, sniffing at me, he moved closer and nudged my jeans. He started to yip and didn’t stop.
Not understanding what he wanted, I called for Marshmallow. My cat sauntered in with slow strides, not bothering to walk any faster. “What’s up, doc?”
“Sterling’s worked up about something.”
Marshmallow spoke with Sterling and then turned to stare at my pants. “There’s something in your pocket he wants to see.”
I checked my jeans and pulled out the plastic cap I’d confiscated. I’d forgotten I had stashed it in my pocket. Bending over to Sterling, I asked, “Do you know what this is, boy?”
Marshmallow translated for me, but Sterling didn’t have a clue.
“Why’s he so frantic, then?” I asked.
“He’s excited because, he said, whatever it is, it smells like Sparky.”
I walked back to Nicola still reflecting on Sterling’s strange comment. When she saw him, Nicola clapped her hands in delight. “He looks so handsome. You’ve really saved me, Mimi.”
I gave Nicola a perfunctory wave as she left. My fingers reached for the piece of plastic I’d pocketed. I felt its contours. It didn’t seem like a good toy for dogs. Where would Sparky even have gotten the thing? Well, I could solve the mystery by asking the little guy himself.
I called Magnus Cooper and asked if I could visit. To my surprise, he seemed excited to hear from me. “Mimi,” he said, “you won’t believe what happened after you groomed the puppies for the Eiffel Tower photo shoot. My sales tripled. That’s never happened before, and it’s all because of you. I meant to call and tell you, but we’ve been so busy catching up on the additional orders.”
“That’s wonderful.” Somebody out there did appreciate my work.
“Can you come and do it again? I’ll make sure to give you a piece of the financial pie.”
I checked the time. “How about after I close up shop tonight? And do you think it’d be possible for me to groom a specific dog, the littlest of Russ Nolan’s Chihuahuas?”
“Anything you want,” he said. “I’ll see you soon.”
When I went over to Magnus Cooper’s house, I noticed he’d left the front door unlocked. Marshmallow and I arrived to find Sparky sitting in the penned area.
Magnus stood with his back to me and spoke to the puppy. “Now, what scene should I set up for you?” He lifted his camera and appeared to frame the shot.
“Right behind you, Magnus,” I said. He turned, and I held up my supplies kit.
“Great. You can start grooming while I select a good backdrop. I’ll return soon with some props.”
Marshmallow watched while I worked—not that there was much for me to do. Sparky already looked so cute with his wide brown eyes and diminutive size. I did add some extra sheen to his coat with a brief coconut oil massage of his fur.
After making sure neither Magnus nor Zel was around, I showed Sparky the plastic object.
He cocked his head at me and barked twice.
“Sparky’s wondering how you got that,” Marshmallow translated.
The tiny Chihuahua nudged my hand with his nose and whimpered.
“It smells like his owner,” Marshmallow added. “And something else . . .”
I petted Sparky while he and Marshmallow hashed out the details. The two looked almost comical as they nodded and tilted their heads to listen to each other.
Marshmallow summarized for me. “Sparky found that weird object wedged behind Russ Nolan’s back in the camping chair. Wanting his master to wake up and play with him, Sparky buried the plastic toy in the yard. But when Sparky nudged Russ Nolan, the man never woke up. Then Sparky was called in from the yard, and he had to leave with the other dogs.”
Poor Sparky. He harbored love for his master, not realizing what terrible conditions he’d grown up in. He’d had no comparison . . . until coming to this new place.
All of a sudden, Marshmallow hissed. “Put it away, Mimi. Magnus is coming back.”
I tucked the cap into my pocket as Magnus returned with a blue backdrop. Fluffy clouds were painted on the canvas. I watched Magnus set up a floor fan and plug it in.
“Give me a hand with his costume,” he said. “Zel’s out tonight with a few friends, and I need your help.” What a one-eighty from his prior suspicious attitude. Before, Josh had been worried about me even stepping into this home, and now, Magnus welcomed me with open arms.
It took a serious collaborative effort for us to squeeze Sparky into a muscle-enhanced superhero outfit. Magnus positioned the dog at just the right spot so that when the fan blew, the breeze made the cape billow.
“Perfect,” I said.
Sparky looked the part of a superhero pup, and he’d acted like one in real life. He’d found something the police had missed. An item lodged in the crevice of Russ Nolan’s chair. Maybe a significant clue to the crime—and to the killer’s identity.