Seventeen

Of course I had time to talk. I was always happy to chat with Billi, and when the conversation was about dogs—which it often was with her—I enjoyed it even more.

Billi motioned me aside with a brisk tilt of her head. I glanced toward Reed, who’d remained near me throughout this sometimes difficult event, acting as my backup and friend and more, which I truly appreciated, as always. He must have seen Billi’s motion since he sent me a nod, and, good guy that he was, he walked over to where Neal, Janelle, and Dinah were talking and joined them.

I wondered about the gist of their conversation but figured I’d hear about it later from Reed, if not from the others, if anything important was brought up.

And now I could chat with just Billi.

Since many of the attendees at the memorial service appeared to be leaving, Billi and I simply walked off the sidewalk and onto the grass beside it and let people pass us.

Because this was a somber occasion, Billi, like the rest of the City Council members in attendance, wore a dark suit that probably would have been appropriate for a council meeting. I’d always considered her to be a pretty woman, with her smooth and attractive face framed by her nicely highlighted dark hair. At the moment, though, her attractiveness was hampered by a frown.

I opened my mouth to ask what was going on with the dogs but she beat me to it. “Would you believe that no one in this supposedly caring family wants to take in Henry Schulzer’s dogs?” Her scowl looked furious now, and her tone was more than irritated. “I made a point of asking them when I offered my condolences and they all looked at me as if I were totally insane for even mentioning poor orphaned Prince and Duke.”

“Oh no,” I said. “That’s too bad. I assumed they’d want them since they said the dogs were descendants of some others raised by their mother years ago. You’d think they’d at least want that reminder of their mom. Or Tula might want them as a reminder of her brother.”

“I agree. But the dogs are what matter now. I’m going to find them a wonderful new home, preferably together—and then I’ll rub it in those dratted Schulzers’ faces. Maybe shame them a bit for not caring more about the dogs that Henry—or even probably Flora—really gave a damn about.”

“Great idea.” I appreciated what she’d said. But I also figured that these people wouldn’t care if the dogs were taken in by someone impressive, like a local politico or celebrity, or anyone else for that matter.

“You and I have been talking generally about holding another adoption event soon. Why not very soon, while those folks are still in town? I’ll have to get them to sign all the necessary paperwork to permit the adoption, but that shouldn’t be a problem, assuming they’re Henry’s appropriate heirs.”

“And assuming they’re willing to do what’s right for those dogs, even if they have no interest in them,” I said. Surely HS and Mabe would rather the pups find a new, loving home than stay in a shelter forever. Mountaintop Rescue was of course a no-kill shelter, but everyone’s preference there was to find the inhabitants a loving family.

“I certainly hope so,” Billi said. “Any chance of your stopping by tomorrow? Since it’ll be Monday, I assume you’ll have a shift at the vet clinic first?”

“Yes, I do,” I said. “And I’ll definitely come to see you afterward. We can start making plans then.”

“Great. See you.” With a wave, Billi turned and headed back toward a few of the City Council members who were still talking near the entry to the building.

I turned, intending to join Reed and the others—and stopped. Dinah was off to my right, near the parking lot, and she seemed to be animatedly talking to Silas—with Wilbur filming them.

Heck, didn’t she know better? She was a murder suspect, even if she hadn’t been arrested—at least not yet. She should keep to herself, and certainly not talk on camera. It was too easy to say something unintended that gave the wrong impression, and reporters like Silas were unlikely to erase anything that could earn them a few more viewers because of the harmful implications.

Ready to pounce figuratively on both of them, I stalked in their direction. I had a feeling that Silas was waiting for me, since he pivoted when I got close to them and held the microphone out. “Ah, welcome, Carrie. This is Carrie Kennersly, who owns Icing on the Cake and the Barkery and Biscuits bakeries, where she is Dinah’s boss. We were just discussing the fact that many people like Dinah, who is relatively new to Knobcone Heights, hadn’t known of Henry Schulzer’s affiliation with this town. Were you aware that he was the widower of our previous mayor, Flora Morgan Schulzer?”

“No,” I said, glaring into Dinah’s eyes. “I wasn’t aware of that previously.”

“But he’s been a customer in your shops recently, right?”

Dinah must have mentioned that, although I figured Silas could have learned it from other sources. Silas wasn’t a customer at either shop, so he wouldn’t have seen Henry walk in with his dogs.

“Not very long, but his dogs seemed to like the healthy treats we sell in my Barkery and Biscuits shop.” Okay, that was a bit of a plug, but why not take advantage of this uncomfortable situation? “And now, Dinah and I need to get back to those very shops.” I looked at my assistant with a gaze that I hoped allowed no dispute. She had probably driven herself to the memorial service, but I wished we were riding together so I could quiz—and chastise—her. Both could wait till we got to the shops, though.

The way Dinah kept glancing at me as we walked to the parking lot told me she expected that chastisement. She didn’t try to explain herself—not now, at least.

Back at the shops, things were going fine—or at least that was what both Frida, in Icing, and Vicky, in the Barkery, told me when I asked. There were still plenty of baked goods in both shops, though, which also told me something: we hadn’t had a lot of customers.

Sundays were often busy—but quite a few people had gone to Henry’s memorial, so that had possibly cut back on the numbers of visitors to both stores.

I spoke with Dinah for a short while in the kitchen before either of us got back to work. “I know it wasn’t the smartest thing,” she said, “but most of what we talked about was how I enjoyed research, and how nearly everything I researched was fun and hypothetical. We talked only a little about Henry Schulzer and his behavior at my birthday party, sort of. And that was far from being a motive for me to kill him, though I wish I knew who did it.”

“Me too.” Was I relieved? Not really. I just hoped she hadn’t said anything potentially harmful to herself.

Still, I got back to work in the Barkery, leaving Dinah in Icing to help out. I’d left Biscuit at home that day. Not that I didn’t trust my staffers here, but I knew I’d worry less about her if there was no possibility she could sneak out. That also meant I’d try to leave the shops right on time. Soon.

As closing time finally approached—after, fortunately, quite a few customers popped in to buy treats for themselves and their pets—I was surprised to see Detective Wayne Crunoll come in. Oh, sure, he had his cute Doxies with him, Blade and Magnum, but this obviously was a work day for him. I had a feeling his dogs were just there to try to put me off my guard, as he’d attempted previously. He still wore the white shirt and black pants he’d had on at the service.

“Hi, Carrie.” Wayne edged his way around a couple of customers still studying the contents of the glass-fronted display case. He held his dogs’ leashes so they had to stay by his side. “How about some of your great carob treats for these guys?”

“Of course,” I said warily, but when I went behind the counter I pulled out a few sample treats for now. As I gave a second one to each pup I looked at Wayne. “So why are you really here?”

“Is Dinah still around?” he asked, and I shuddered inside. Was she the real reason he’d come here this late afternoon?

If so, why?

“She’s over in Icing,” I said, glad he had his dogs with him. They weren’t police K-9s, so he was unlikely to be here to arrest Dinah with them along.

Even so … well, I wanted, needed, to know more of what was on his mind.

“Good,” he said. “Can we sit down for a minute?”

Uh-oh. It appeared I might be about to get the answers I wanted, or at least some of them. And that made me wonder if I really wanted to know.

But I still said “Sure” and led him to the table closest to Biscuit’s enclosure, since it was farthest from where the customers still pondered their selection. I told them to let Frida know when they made up their minds.

Then I sat down across from Wayne.

I tried to appear nonchalant as I looked into his light brown eyes. He had more than a hint of a dark shadow on his pudgy face, probably because it was so late in the day. And the expression on that face?

It appeared … well, almost triumphant.

What was he thinking?

I found out in less than a minute. “I just got done talking with Silas Perring,” he began. Which made me worry again about what Dinah might have said on camera. Justifiably so, as it turned out. “He showed me part of his interview with Dinah on his tablet. They were talking about research.”

“She usually talks about that,” I said, hoping that was all she’d talked about. That’s what she’d said, at least.

“The thing is, she admitted that she would do nearly anything to research whatever book she thinks she’s writing. Even maybe killing someone, or at least going through the motions.”

What? Surely Dinah hadn’t said something that absurd. “Pretend motions,” I asserted. “I don’t know what she said, but I’m sure she didn’t mean anything more than that.”

“Maybe. But she also admitted how upset she’d been after Henry Schulzer gave her a hard time at her birthday party.”

“I’m not surprised about that, but it doesn’t mean—”

“Oh, she didn’t admit she killed Henry as part of her research, if that’s where you think I’m going with this. But—well, her denial wasn’t as forceful as I figured it would be under the circumstances. I intend to talk to her again. Now, in fact. But I’m not ready to bring her in again even for a further interview … yet. I know that this time you’re her protector, and I shouldn’t be talking to you about this. Still—it won’t hurt for you to know that Dinah’s now gone up a few notches on our list, so you’d better get ready to figure out who really did it.” He chuckled. “You’re so good at that, aren’t you?” His tone sounded sarcastic. “And by the way, I warned our chief and my partner, Detective Morana, that I’d be talking to you. Neither of them objected—and we all seem to be heading in the same direction after seeing parts of Silas’s interview.”

Drat. Well, it would be better to get this confrontation out of the way now, when I could be there.

I told Frida, who was waiting on those customers—who fortunately seemed to have made up their minds—that I was going next door, and that she could leave after that order was done, as long as she locked the shop first.

I helped Wayne put his dogs into Biscuit’s currently empty enclosure, and we went next door into Icing.

Both Vicky and Dinah were there, a good thing since a few customers remained in that shop, too. I went behind the counter where my assistants stood and asked Vicky to finish up with the people, who seemed ready to place their order.

Then I motioned to Dinah to join Wayne and me at one of the tables.

Dinah didn’t look happy, but she complied. As we all sat down, she faced Wayne. “Is this about the interview I gave to Silas Perring?” she asked. Before he responded, she went on, “If so, you need to know that, sure, I’m curious. I’ll do many, many kinds of research if it teaches me things that I may eventually be able to use when I write a book. But if what he said, even what he showed you, made you think I’d actually hurt someone, let alone harm them, to learn how it feels to do that, you can be sure that’s not what I intended. Sure, I’m curious, but I’m also a nice human being. I’d only hurt someone by writing about them, not killing them. I thought I made that clear when I talked to you at the police station.”

Did she protest too much? I hoped not. She made sense to me—but I hadn’t been there for her police interrogation.

“Telling the world you consider yourself a nice person doesn’t necessarily make you one,” Wayne said bluntly, staring at her. “Although I will say that you didn’t admit to killing Mr. Schulzer. Does that mean you actually didn’t? I don’t think so.”

“It doesn’t mean she did do it, either,” I interjected.

“No … but let me tell you this, Ms. Greeley. There are quite a few possible suspects in this situation, and that includes the people who argued with Mr. Schulzer at your birthday party. From what we gathered, you were one of the most vocal of them. And now—well, if I were you, I wouldn’t let myself be interviewed on camera.”

I silently agreed, but it was a done deal. I still wanted to protect Dinah. “That’s undoubtedly true, Detective,” I said. “But she was interviewed—and I gather that, no matter what else she said, she didn’t admit to killing Henry Schulzer, right?”

“Right, but—”

“But did what she say make you want to take her into custody right now?”

“No, but that doesn’t mean she’s innocent. It means—”

“It means that whatever she said might not look good, but it can’t have been that bad, either. And now I’d appreciate it if you’d leave. We’re about to close both shops.”

“Fine,” Wayne said. “But that doesn’t mean I won’t be back—or that you won’t remain on our radar, Ms. Greeley.”

We both looked at Dinah. Her large eyes were filled with tears and her lips were trembling. “I understand,” she said. “But let me say right now—”

I held up my hand. “Don’t talk to him,” I insisted.

She ignored me—again. “I just wanted to make it clear that no matter what it might have sounded like, I wouldn’t kill anyone, and I absolutely didn’t kill Mr. Schulzer.”

“Right,” said Wayne, standing up. “I get it. Goodbye, ladies. Oh, and Ms. Greeley, please don’t leave town.” He stalked out of Icing as we both stared after him.