“And you’d only have to leave work an hour early.”
“No.”
“And I’m sure I can get Geanie to cover for you.”
“No.”
“And you’d be doing me a huge favor.”
“No!”
“And you could help a family that’s not going to have a Thanksgiving without you.”
She thought of Harry and Bernadette. They didn’t even have families to share Thanksgiving with. She hung her head. “Okay. Just give me the route with the safest neighborhood and the smartest, quietest kids.”
“Um, you realize that the smartest kids and the quietest kids aren’t necessarily the same kids, right?”
“Whatever. I just don’t want to be responsible for anyone who’s going to do anything risky.”
“Thank you, Cindy,” he said, putting a hand on her shoulder.
“You’re welcome.”
And next time I’ll make Geanie come find out what the problem is.
The morning flew by, and promptly at noon Mark walked through the door.
“There’s my lunch date,” Cindy said with grim humor. “I’m ready,” she said, standing up.
“Great, let’s go someplace we can talk. But I’m not going to the kindergarten room again.”
She smiled. He was referencing an interview from months earlier. She could still picture him perched on one of the tiny plastic chairs.
“Okay, then, let’s go to lunch. I’m starving.”
A block away from the church was a stand that boasted enormous one-pound burritos. Mark seemed momentarily taken back by her choice but then ordered the beef burrito with extra sour cream. Cindy contented herself with chicken minus the peppers. The stand boasted a lot of outdoor seating, and they were able to find a table far enough away from the crowd that they had some privacy.
“Apparently I missed all the excitement yesterday,” Mark began.
“I wish you hadn’t. Your partner can be a jerk.”
“Comes with the territory, I’m afraid. You know I can be a bit of a jerk.”
“I hadn’t noticed!”
“So humor me. Tell me what happened yesterday from your perspective.”
Cindy took ten minutes to fill him in, trying to include every detail she could remember but only describing the things directly relating to Bernadette and Sammy.
“What were the two of you doing at the theater, anyway?”
“Seeing a movie.”
“Obviously.”
“We both needed some fun after everything that had happened, so it seemed like a good idea at the time.”
“Was it a date?”
“No!”
He stared at her hard.
“Yes, I don’t know. Sort of. But we’re not dating. We’re just friends. We worked that all out yesterday.”
“Before or after you discovered someone had been killed?”
“Does it matter?”
“Humor me.”
“Before.”
“All right. What can you tell me about Joseph?”
“He’s a good guy.”
“You’ll forgive me if I don’t take your word on faith.”
She bit her tongue. He was right. Her track record on knowing who was and wasn’t a good guy wasn’t exactly stellar. “He’s been a member of First Shepherd since he was a kid. Parents died young—no other family in the area. He was raised wealthy, but he’s still down-to-earth and humble. His dogs mean everything to him, particularly Clarice, and neither of us buys the fact that your lab guy says that she was in a fight with another animal and that’s why she was all bloody Saturday night.”
“I don’t like that either,” Mark said under his breath. He shook his head. “Not going to argue with the lab techs, though. What else?”
“He really does care about those less fortunate. He’s been involved in half a dozen charities that I know of.”
“Any financial difficulties, changes in mood or personality?”
“Nothing that I know of. But as far as personality, I probably wouldn’t be the best judge. I’ve only been getting to know him more in the last couple of months.”
“Since the Easter thing?”
She shrugged. “He’s one of the few people I know who witnessed any part of that. We both needed to talk.”
“I understand. Is there anything else you can think of?”
“I really don’t know what else to tell you. I think it’s ridiculous to view him as a suspect. He has no motive, and as I see it, he’s been one of the victims in this whole mess.”
“The only human victim who is alive,” Mark pointed out.
“Let’s hope he stays that way. If you ask me, you should have him, his house, and his dog under armed guard.”
“What about the homeless who adopted dogs that day?”
“I—I don’t know,” she admitted.
“Let me know if you figure it out,” he said.
They finished up their burritos, and Mark ran out of questions. They parted ways in the church parking lot, and Cindy walked back into the office.
The phones were ringing, and there were four parents trying to pay Geanie the deposits for the camp. Thoughts of her conversation with Mark evaporated as she threw herself back into work.
The next few hours flew by in a rush of noise and people and phones. At four-thirty things finally quieted down. She was able to get a few things done. It was almost five when her cell rang. Joseph.
“Hi. I just thought you’d like to hear the update.”
“Yes, what did you find out?”
“Unfortunately, very little,” he said, sounding discouraged. “My jeweler confirmed that Clarice is still wearing the original collar.”
“The diamond one?”
“Yes, indeed.”
“Okay, so if that’s what the thieves were after, they didn’t get it.”
“Yeah, I guess. When I get home, it’s going in the safe, just to make sure, and I’m putting a plain collar on her. If they come back looking for it, they’ll at least leave her alone.”
“Sounds like a smart idea. So what did the police say?”
“That’s the really frustrating part. The lab guy said they couldn’t get any clean DNA evidence.”
“Are you kidding? There was all that blood. It wasn’t hers. It couldn’t have been—” Could it have belonged to one of the puppies? That much blood, though, would surely mean that the puppy would be dead.
“It wasn’t human blood or dog blood. It was some other kind of animal. They’re saying she must have tangled with something outside before we found her under the shed.”
“I don’t believe that.”
“Neither do I, but what can you do? Blood doesn’t lie.”
“Are the two of you okay?”
“Yeah, but we’re both anxious to get home.”
“Okay, well, call me if anything else happens.”
“I will,” he promised. “I’ll just be happy when the police straighten this out and the puppies are found safe and sound.”
“Me too.”
And in the silence between them, she knew they were both wondering if that would happen. The puppies might be dead. Even if they weren’t, they might never be found. She wasn’t sure she could live with not knowing, but she knew for certain that Joseph couldn’t. “Take care, okay?”
“You too.”
Cindy hung up. “That was Joseph. He got Clarice back,” she told Geanie. She glanced at the clock. Three minutes until five. She scooped up the papers in front of her and piled them in her inbox to deal with in the morning.
“So what do you have planned for this evening?” Geanie asked as she shut down her computer.
Cindy yawned. “I signed up to go to a timeshare presentation.”
“Ooh, one of those ones where they tempt you with prizes and trips?”
“Exactly. I think I’m going to bail.”
“Why, you’ve got something else planned?”
“Sleeping
.”
“Sleep during the presentation. That’s what my cousin did last year, and she won a trip to Hawaii.”
“Hawaii is one of the prizes,” Cindy admitted.
“See! You should go.”
“You know, you’re right. It’s not like they’re going to test me at the end of the spiel.”
“Exactly. Ninety minutes of your time, and you’ll at least get some kind of prize.”
“You talked me into it,” Cindy said, shutting down her computer. Of course it has nothing to do with the fact that I can put off being alone with my thoughts about what’s happened to those dogs.
They walked out to the parking lot together. Once in her car Cindy turned toward downtown instead of home. Twenty minutes later she was walking out of a parking garage underneath the office building where the timeshare company had space.
On the sidewalk a puppy that was tied up to a bicycle rack jumped to his feet and barked joyously upon seeing her. It wasn’t safe to pet strange dogs, but he was so cute she almost couldn’t resist.
“Sorry, little fella,” she said.
She took the elevator to the fifth floor. When she signed in at the front desk, she was directed to a large meeting room where a dozen other people already waited, clustered around a few tables. Cindy glanced around, trying to decide where to sit, when her eyes fell on a familiar figure.
“Harry?”
He looked up at her, and a smile lit up his face. “Hello. Here, have a seat at my table.”
It couldn’t do any harm to sit with him. Besides, he was the only one in the room who wasn’t a complete stranger. She sat down and smiled. “I’m surprised to see you here,” she said, trying to think of a polite way to question him. He wasn’t someone who could rent his own apartment, let alone afford a timeshare.
“I love these things,” Harry said. “Free food, free entertainment, and you always win something cool just for sitting here.”
She smiled as she realized her motives were no less mercenary. “So what are you hoping to win?”
“I’ve got my eye on the portable television,” Harry said.
“I’m hoping for the trip to Hawaii.”
“I’ve been to Hawaii three times,” he confessed.
“Wow. I’ve never been.”
“It’s nice. Lots of palm trees.”
“I would imagine.”
He fidgeted in his chair and kept glancing toward the door.
“Are you okay?”
“They made me leave Rascal outside. I don’t like leaving him alone.”
“The puppy tied up outside?”
“Yes.”
“I’m sure he’ll be fine.”
He mumbled something under his breath. But then the speaker moved to the front of the room, the lights dimmed, and the slideshow began.
Cindy struggled to stay awake for the next ninety minutes, not because she wanted to hear what they were saying, but because she was afraid if she started to snore they would kick her out without giving her a chance to draw for a prize from the tantalizing decorated box up front. When the presentation was finally over, she was distraught to discover that she had to spend twenty minutes saying no to three different people who all tried to sell her a timeshare, failed, and sent her “up the sales chain” to the next person she had to say no to. By the end she was exhausted and pretty sure that whatever she won wasn’t going to be worth the frustration.
Out of the corner of her eye, she watched Harry stroke his beard and nod his head a lot. Once she distinctly heard him say, “Very interesting, but if you don’t mind I’ll need to take the materials and think it over.”
She was finally cleared to get her parting gift and leave, and she managed to drop her packet of information on an empty table as she approached the prize box.
“Feeling lucky?” the woman standing there asked.
“I hope so,” Cindy muttered as she put her hand in and fished out a paper.
“Oh, congratulations, you won a portable television!” The woman reached under the table, pulled out a box, and handed it to Cindy.
It was heavier than it looked. Cindy grasped it awkwardly and made her way back downstairs and outside. There next to the door sat Harry’s puppy.
“Hey, Rascal,” she said, putting down the box and scratching him behind the ears. At least she knew now who he belonged to and that he’d had all his shots. “Glad to see no one’s dognapped you.” She wondered if it was a coincidence that the missing puppies were all purebreds from Joseph’s prize dog, Clarice. Were they being stolen because they were valuable, or was there a rival breeder out there who would stop at nothing to get his hands on the bloodline? She shook her head. She liked dogs, but it was hard to imagine the enormous prices some people paid for them.
Besides, there was yet another missing dog, the one that had belonged to Sammy. Sure, he wasn’t a puppy, but it couldn’t be a coincidence. Maybe diamond collars and championship bloodlines were all red herrings. Maybe there was some other motivation for the killer, something else that linked all the dogs.
“He’s sweet, isn’t he?” Harry asked a minute later as he came out of the building.
“Very.”
“You won the television?”
“Yeah. What did you get?”
“The Hawaii trip. I can’t go, though. I wouldn’t want to leave Rascal. Hey, you want to trade?”
“Are you sure, Harry?” she asked. “Yours is worth a lot more than mine.”
“Not to me, it’s not. It seems we just got each other’s prizes by mistake,” he said with a smile.
She found herself grinning back. “You’ve got a deal.”
He handed her the voucher, and she slid the box toward him. “Will you be okay carrying this and walking the little guy?”
“Yup.”
Cindy started for her car. “See you around, Harry. And thanks.”
She was halfway to the car when she found herself turning around and walking back out of the parking garage. “Hey, Harry?”
“No tradebacks.”
“No, nothing like that. I was just wondering. Do you have somewhere to go for Thanksgiving dinner?”
“Well, the shelter usually puts on a nice spread,” he answered.
She bit her lip. The side of her that hated taking risks screamed at her to walk away, but watching Harry pet Rascal, she just couldn’t. “Would you like to come to my house for dinner?”
“You mean it? Can Rascal come too?”
“Of course.”
“Oh, yes! You hear that, boy? We’ve got someplace to be on Thursday.”
She pulled a pen and a piece of paper out of her purse and wrote down her address before she could change her mind. “Do you know this street?” she asked as she handed it to him.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Okay. Dinner is at three.”
“We’ll be there.”
“See you then!” She turned and headed back to her car, hoping she had done the right thing.
She couldn’t help but think about what Joseph had said, and she realized it was true. These types of events certainly did have a way of spinning out of control.
7
MONDAY COULD HAVE GONE A LOT BETTER AS FAR AS JEREMIAH WAS CONcerned. An endless stream of people had flowed in and out of the synagogue office all day. He didn’t know how Marie juggled so many demands simultaneously. On top of that, every office machine in the place managed to break down.
At the end of the day, Robert’s Paper had called to say that a shipment of paper ordered by Marie for the youth director had finally come in. At that point Jeremiah had a throbbing headache, a runny nose, and a suspicion that he might be sick. He opted to wait until the next day to pick up the order instead of trying to race there before the store closed.
When he finally dragged himself home, all he could manage was to heat up some chicken noodle soup before falling headfirst into bed.
After the timeshare presentation, Cindy felt too keyed up to go strai
ght home. She stopped and grabbed a burger and shake at Bob’s Giant Burgers and then decided to head to the grocery store to shop for Thanksgiving dinner.
Once she stepped foot inside, she instantly regretted it. More than a hundred shoppers prowled the aisles, ramming each other with carts, knocking over displays, and moaning loudly as they waited in seemingly endless lines at the checkout. She considered coming back later but realized that the closer to Thanksgiving, the worse it was going to get. She squared her shoulders, aimed her cart for the poultry section, and joined the fray.
What should have taken her fifteen minutes took three times as long, thanks to all the carts blocking the aisles. When she had finally filled her cart with everything she could think of, she headed to the front of the store.
She picked what appeared to be the shortest line, crossing her fingers that there wasn’t a reason no one else wanted to be in it. Sure enough, she soon realized that the woman at the front of the line had a coupon for almost everything she had bought. Moments later Cindy saw the small sign next to the register that announced Cashier in Training and she slumped over her cart.
Finally the coupon queen had finished and moved on. The next two people made it through in what seemed a reasonable time. Finally the man in front of Cindy stepped up to the cashier. He then pulled out a plastic bag filled with change and began counting coins into neat little stacks.
The guy behind Cindy swore and demanded, “How come you didn’t use the coin-counting machine?”
Cindy took in the man’s ragged clothing and realized he had to be very poor. He looked vaguely familiar, and she wondered if he might even be homeless. She turned to the man behind her and said softly, “The coin-counting machine charges several cents per dollar. He might not be able to afford losing that money.”
The man swore again, and Cindy turned away. Her eyes landed on the magazine rack, and her eyes widened in horror as she saw herself staring out from the cover of one of the tabloids.
It was a picture of her and Joseph holding hands outside the theater. The headline screamed Spies Use Millionaire Couple’s Dogs to Smuggle Information.
“Oh, no,” she whispered, as she snatched a paper from the stand. She flipped it open, trying to find the article.
Suddenly, the loudmouth behind her seemed to notice something other than the guy counting change.