Begging for Trouble Page 7

  “Why are you fidgeting?” asked Vivian, who was perched on the sofa. “It’s just a normal checkup, and Bitsy seemed okay to me.”

  “You call sitting like a statue and refusing a treat okay for a dog who’s usually upbeat and playful?” She snorted. “That only proves you know squat about man’s best friend.”

  “I never proclaimed to be a canine expert, but I do care. Bitsy isn’t puking or whining, and she still wants to be held and scratched. For me, those are all positive signs in a dog.”

  Ellie twined her fingers in her lap. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to jump down your throat. It’s just that ...” She shrugged. “I can only imagine what Bitsy saw from underneath that makeup table, and I’m positive it wasn’t a pretty sight. Remember what happened to Gary when he witnessed his parents’ murders? It ruined his life.”

  “But Gary was a teenage human, not a puppy,” Viv said, her tone that of a kindergarten teacher explaining the meaning of life to one of her pupils. “Death hits all of us in one way or another, and we have to accept it.”

  “People, yes, but dogs—” Ellie stopped her tirade before she was in too deep. “The deaths most of us experience aren’t violent or shocking. Bitsy’s a puppy who loves her owner, which means she feels with Rob. And she shares a bond with him that’s stronger than the one many humans share.”

  Viv grinned. “You mean like you and the exterminator?”

  “Don’t be a smart-ass. Georgette and I have a bond, when she chooses to be motherly.” Ellie sipped her second glass of wine, then set it on the side table. “If I wanted to be snide, I could compare it to the bond you and your sisters have.”

  “One of these days I’m going to take you to the Island to meet Arlene. Then you’ll understand what I’ve been talking about.” Viv drained her glass of Merlot, then glanced at her watch. “I wonder what’s taking so long.”

  The comment shook Ellie to her core. Was it possible Dave had found something serious? A skin condition or a tumor that flagged a more frightening problem? Maybe Bitsy wasn’t suffering from PTSD, but was physically ill and it simply hadn’t come to light until now.

  “Should we send Mr. T in to take a look?” She gave a weak smile. “He might report back to us.”

  “Say what?” T gruffed from his spot on the floor. Still engrossed in Animal Planet, he hadn’t said a word since Rudy left with the vet and poohuahua.

  “I doubt T has any idea what’s going on,” Viv offered.

  “Oh, yes, I do, fool,” the Jack Russell insisted. “You just don’t know it.”

  “I was only joking,” said Ellie, hoping to defuse T’s temper. Unless absolutely necessary, he was not the kind of canine to show a soft spot for any dog or human. If something bad happened to his mistress, she was certain he’d be upset, and it might bother him if she or Rudy was in trouble, but that was about it. “Besides, he’s too fascinated with Dogs 101 to pay attention to whatever’s going on in Bitsy’s life.”

  “He does seem self-absorbed,” Viv agreed. “Maybe if I—”

  Rudy took that moment to trot into the room with Bitsy at his side. When he reached Ellie, he jumped onto the chair and nuzzled her ear. “Talk about a nail-biter. You were right. Bitsy’s body is fine, but her mind is confused and hurting.”

  “Is it serious?” Ellie murmured.

  “Nah, not really. Dr. Dave just—”

  “What the heck are you whispering about?” Viv interrupted.

  Ellie settled Rudy on her lap, then picked Bitsy up and let her get comfy next to him. “I just praised him for staying with his bitty buddy.”

  Dave walked in carrying his black bag and took a seat alongside Viv, who then stood and went into the kitchen. “I’ve done all I can without running blood tests and X-rays.” His expression remained firm. “But you were right to be worried.”

  “What’s wrong? What happened to her?” Ellie ran a trembling hand across Bitsy’s spine. “Is it serious?”

  The vet continued to frown. “On a scale of one to ten, I’d rate her condition a six. She’s definitely not the Bitsy I’m used to treating, but she isn’t totally lost or out of normal range.”

  Ellie gazed at the petite pooch, who was now sleeping on her thigh. “What the heck is that supposed to mean?”

  He accepted the beer Vivian handed him and moved over to give her room. “I’ve seen it before in patients, but not very often. Normally, dogs live for the moment. Once the danger or traumatic event passes they perk up and, with a bit of kindness and the return to a regular routine, go back to being their usual happy and trusting selves.”

  “I know dogs are resilient. I also believe they have a very forgiving nature and react to the vibes given off by their owners,” Ellie added.

  “Where canines are concerned, you and I see things the same way, but not everyone agrees.” He gave Viv a look and smiled. “Vivian and I had this very discussion just a couple of months ago, if I remember correctly.”

  “We talked over T’s inability to understand why I didn’t want him wearing that stupid sweater he got at Flora’s.” Viv sat closer to the vet and snuggled into his side. “Dave said Mr. T wanted—no, he needed—to wear that outrageous garment, and I said T didn’t know the first thing about style. He liked the coat because it was loaded with feathers, and since it’s natural for dogs to chase birds, that’s what drew him to it.”

  Ellie had heard a few of their talks, and most had fallen just short of an argument, so she’d tuned them out. When she took T for a walk, she let him wear the silly sweater. It was no skin off her nose if he looked outrageous, and it made the Jack Russell feel good. Who cared if people pointed and giggled when they saw him?

  “All I know is Mr. T enjoys that outfit,” said Ellie. “His step is quick, he holds his head high, and his attitude is that of a Best in Show winner when he has it on. It you ask me, that’s reason enough to give in to his demand.”

  “Okay, okay. I let him wear it, don’t I? But that doesn’t mean I can’t wait for spring to arrive so I can toss it onto the top shelf of my closet. It’s not my fault I can’t talk to dogs the way you two can.”

  “Now, babe—” Dave held her free hand. “I never said I could talk to dogs.”

  Ellie suppressed a grin. One day she was going to tell her best friend that she could. Viv’s reaction was sure to be priceless.

  Dave went on. “It’s more an inborn understanding, and I don’t expect everyone to have it. Just because you don’t doesn’t mean we’re poking fun or thinking any less of you.”

  Viv stuck out her lower lip. “Yeah, right.”

  “So, Dave,” Ellie continued, “what did you find when you examined our little girl?”

  “She’s definitely in a funk. I don’t know if it has something to do with Rob and the murder, or if it’s simply because she’s away from him. All I’m sure of is that Bitsy is not the carefree dog I’m used to treating.” Dave upended his beer bottle and took a long swallow. “When do you think you’ll be taking her home?”

  “Tomorrow. Rob’s sister is supposed to arrive sometime in the afternoon and I’m fairly certain he has an appointment with his attorney, so it’s better if Bitsy’s with us for the day.” Ellie rested her head on the chair back. “I was planning to drop her off after my last round of walks.”

  “I think that’s best. In the meantime, do what you’ve been doing. Keep her calm, see that she eats, and let her rest. If she really was a witness to what went on in that dressing room, it might have caused a shock to her system. Let’s wait a while before I start her on a drug.”

  “A drug?” Viv exclaimed. “You’re kidding, right?”

  “Nope. There are mood enhancers for dogs just as there are for people, but they’re usually given in only the most serious cases,” explained the vet. “Or we can go the holistic route, maybe try some valerian or another calming herb, but I think that with time and care Bitsy will come around.”

  Ellie said good-bye to Viv and Dave and left them making nice on the
love seat while Mr. T kept his eyes on Animal Planet. Her best friend and the vet could walk the Jack Russell on their own, but her charges needed to go out before they settled in for the night.

  Thoughts of Sam’s no-show for dinner filled her head as she led Rudy and Bitsy down the front steps and onto the sidewalk. When Sam was on a case, everything else in his life took a backseat, and she figured that was the reason he hadn’t stopped by or called. Though dedication to his profession was one of the things she admired about him, it was also a concern. Did she want to spend the rest of her life with another man who put his career first and her second?

  No need to worry about it now, she decided. They were just starting to get comfortable with each other. Sam had yet to say he loved her, and she hadn’t said it to him. The only future plans he’d mentioned were in reference to next year’s Valentine’s Day, which had been more a joke than an invitation. But she was headover-heels crazy about him, and she suspected he knew it. They’d both been through the wringer in their first serious relationships, so it made sense for them to wait a while before committing fully to another person.

  As they neared the corner, Ellie’s cell rang and she retrieved it from her tote. Though it was nearly ten, she answered when she read the display. “Hey, Joy. I was wondering if I’d ever hear from you again.”

  “Ellie, hi—uh—it’s me.”

  “I hope you’re calling to tell me you’re ready to come back to work.”

  “Um—no. I mean, I’d like to come back, but I ... can’t.”

  “Is something wrong, Joy? Something you need to discuss? Because you know I’m more than happy to help.” Ellie waited while Rudy and Bitsy did their business. “I don’t mind.”

  When Joy didn’t answer, she headed back to the apartment. Finally, as she approached the steps, her exassistant said, “Ellie, this is nothing personal, but you have to stop calling me.”

  The statement took her by surprise. Had she been that much of a pest? “Okay, if you don’t want to hear from me, you won’t, and I apologize if I’ve overstepped my bounds.”

  “It’s not me that—I mean—” The girl heaved a sigh. “I can’t explain. Just don’t phone me anymore. I’ll get hold of you if I need you, but until then . . .”

  “Okay, sure, but—” She stopped talking when Joy disconnected the call. After dropping the phone in her tote, she opened the inside door to the condo and headed up the steps.

  “So what did Joy want?” Rudy asked as they climbed the two flights to their floor.

  “She asked me to stop phoning her.”

  “But why?”

  “Do you think I’ve been that much of a bother?”

  “You do know how to gnaw on a bone when your hackles are up, but with Joy, no. You only called her what? Every couple of weeks?”

  “Maybe twice a month is all. I thought I was simply keeping in touch, but I guess not.” She unlocked her apartment and the trio continued down the hall. “Let me change and we can talk about you-know-who.”

  In the bedroom, she set Bitsy on the bed while Rudy jumped up and plunked onto his pillow. Then Ellie changed into a sleep shirt, took care of business in the bathroom, and returned. After pulling down the covers, she settled in while Bitsy curled up in the center of the bed. Snuggling nearer to her boy, she asked, “Okay, let’s hear what went down in Viv’s spare room.”

  Rudy gave an exaggerated stretch, walked in a circle, and lay back down. “Dr. Dave did the usual: thermometer up the butt, heart check, ear check, eye check—you know, all the stuff he does when he looks me over every year.”

  “I do know. So what else?”

  “After that, he stared into Bitsy’s eyes and started talking to her. I always knew he was a good guy, but I never realized how good until I saw him with our little girl.”

  Was it possible she and Dave shared the same psychic link with canines? “Please don’t tell me Bitsy answered him and he understood her.”

  “Not the way you and I do, but he does send out a vibe that tells us dogs he cares. Makes us want to trust him when we know other humans are only pretending.”

  “And he made Bitsy feel that way, too?”

  “I’m not a hundred percent sure, but I’d say yes.”

  “Can you ask Bitsy if she’s willing to talk to me now?”

  Before Rudy answered, Bitsy tottered to Ellie’s side and jumped onto her chest so they could gaze eyeball to eyeball. “I’m ready to talk, Ellie, and I’m sorry if I’ve been worrying you.”

  She laid a hand on the poohuahua’s back. “Oh, sweetie, I’m so happy to hear you. Are you feeling better?”

  “Dr. Dave said I was supposed to relax and trust you. He said you’d take care of me.”

  “He’s right. I’m here for you and Rob.”

  Bitsy shivered. “There was so much blood, and angry men took him away. It’s all I can think about.”

  “Rob is home. I saw him this afternoon and he’s concerned, but he’s all right.” Hoping to put the little dog at ease, she added, “His sister and Bradley are coming to visit.”

  “Bradley’s coming? Really, truly he is?” Bitsy panted in excitement. “I can hardly wait to see him again.”

  “I take it you like Bradley?”

  “I love Bradley, and he loves me.”

  “Rob wouldn’t tell me, but I know you will. What kind of a dog is Bradley?”

  “Ahh . . . a big one?”

  Ellie grinned. Because of Bitsy’s size, almost every canine she met would be big. “How about his breed?”

  “I’m not sure. But he’s ginormous.”

  “Let’s try to whittle that down. How large is he when you compare him to Rudy?”

  The poohuahua gazed at the yorkiepoo as if she were sizing up a biscuit. “Bradley is way, way bigger.”

  Since her boy was only twelve pounds, that figured. “Can you be more specific?”

  “Maybe as big as Rob?”

  “That doesn’t make sense. Rob’s almost six feet tall.”

  Bitsy gave a doggie shrug. “All I know is I have to look way up to see his muzzle, just like I hafta do with Rob.” She heaved a sigh. “I miss him. When can I go home?”

  “How does tomorrow afternoon sound?”

  Bitsy moved closer and licked Ellie’s chin. “It sounds great.”

  She gathered the dog in her arms. “I don’t want to upset you, but you have to help me get to the truth about last night. Can you tell me what happened in the dressing room before Rob walked in?”

  Bitsy started to shiver. “I don’t remember all that much.”

  “Were you awake? Did you actually see Carmella come in, and . . . whoever killed her?”

  “I’m not sure. I was sort of dreaming, cuz I remember thinking about a squirrel I saw in the park. You know, the one that’s bigger than me?”

  “The one we saw the other morning?”

  “The sucker with the black bushy tail?” Rudy asked.

  “That’s the one. I dreamed he was chasing me and—”

  “Whoa-hoa. You weren’t havin’ a dream. That was a nightmare.”

  “Let her finish.” Ellie gave the poohuahua another pat. “Go on, tell us more.”

  “I remember running from that squirrel, and then I heard voices. Human voices. I guess that’s when I woke up. I saw high heels. Then I saw pant legs. The shouting got louder, and I closed my eyes. Next thing I knew, Rob was on the floor holding that sharp, pointy thing.”

  Ellie bit her lip. Bitsy’s memory did not bode well for her master. “Was Rob the other person arguing with Carmella or was it someone else?”

  “Someone else. But I’m not sure who.”

  “You don’t know or you don’t remember?”

  Bitsy’s whimper tore at Ellie’s heart. “Both, I guess. Is that important?”

  “I’m afraid so, because right now you’re the only witness to the crime. We need you to recall exactly what happened.”

  “But I heard Rob tell the big men he didn’t do it.�
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  “I heard him say that, too, but without someone to corroborate his story—”

  “Co-rob-er-what?”

  “Corroborate. It means to agree with what Rob said. No other human was a witness, just you, and since you can’t tell them . . .”

  “But I told you. Why can’t you pass along what I say?”

  “It’s not that simple. First of all, no one would believe me if I said I heard the story from you. It’s bad enough some folks think I’m nutty for talking to the dogs I walk. If I said you gave me the details of the crime—”

  “I thought that detective, the one Rudy knows, was your boyfriend.”

  “Detective Demento?” Rudy broke in. “He’s a putz.”

  Ellie wrapped her fingers around her boy’s muzzle. “What Rudy means is Detective Ryder is all cop when he’s on a case. He doesn’t understand that some people can communicate with their pets. He’ll only believe what can be proved, and that’s not talking dogs.”

  “Oh.”

  “Yeah, ‘oh,’” Rudy repeated. “So unless you can give us a name or a description of whoever was in there before Bobbi-Rob arrived, his ass is grass.”

  “Enough,” Ellie muttered, grabbing his muzzle again. “There has to be a way to make this work.”

  Bitsy nuzzled into Ellie’s chest. “I’ll try to remember, really I will. I don’t want Rob to go to the big house.”

  “The big house?” Raising an eyebrow, she stared at her boy. “Where did you hear that?”

  “Rudy told me—”

  “I just told her that humans put other humans in jail—”

  “You said the big house—”

  “Jail, big house—same difference,” the yorkiepoo gruffed.

  “The term ‘big house’ is frightening,” Ellie scolded. “Bitsy’s worried enough without you upsetting her.”

  “Okay, okay. I didn’t mean to scare her, but she has to know the truth.”

  “Not to worry, sweetie. Once we iron this out, nothing will happen to Rob and life will go on just like before.” She rubbed Bitsy’s ears. “How about you sleep on it, think about remembering, and see where that leads you? Maybe you’ll have some answers in the morning.”