Let Sleeping Dogs Die Read online
Page 5
“Nine-one-one. What is the nature of your emergency?”
“I think we have a dead body.” My voice came out high and squeaky.
“Ma’am, you’ll need to speak up. I can barely hear you.”
“Sorry.” I cleared my throat. “I think someone is dead.”
“Give me your address.”
“I think we should do that later. We need someone here. Right away.” Then I realized she wanted the address of where I was, not my home address. Well, she could have been a little more clear about that. Didn’t she realize that people who called nine-one-one were probably on the verge of hysteria? Fortunately, I knew the address since I’d just driven there that morning.
“Thirteen forty-three River Creek Drive. In Hillsdale. In the house.”
“Did you say that’s a house?” the woman’s voice asked.
“Yes, of course it’s a house. It’s just that there are other buildings here, too. The body is in the house, not in one of the other buildings.”
“Is there a phone in the house?”
“What do you think I’m talking to you on?” I asked. Normally, I’m a pretty calm person, but this situation was more demanding than most and the stupid woman should be intelligent enough to know that if we were talking on a phone, then of course there was one in the house. Oh. She meant a landline.
“I’m sorry. I don’t know. This isn’t my house.”
“Just stay calm, ma’am. I’m sending a police officer over.”
“I think we need more than an officer. We need an ambulance or something.” I said ambulance, but I’d really meant a hearse. Or whatever they use at the coroner’s office. I just didn’t want to say it.
“Yes, ma’am. I’m sending an ambulance, as well. Can you stay on the phone with me?”
I didn’t really see the need to stay on the phone with her, but if that’s what she wanted, it was fine by me. It wasn’t like I needed to use the phone for anything else. “I’ll put you on speaker.” I pressed the button for the speakerphone and looked at Peter. He was standing next to the bed Frank lay on and he appeared to be more than a little distraught. I guessed that was pretty normal for the situation. I probably looked distraught myself.
“He’s dead?” I whispered.
Peter nodded and slowly walked back to the doorway. Captain lay down beside the bed and whined. Peter snapped his fingers and slapped his palm against his thigh twice. Captain stood, looked at Frank’s body, and slowly made his way to Peter.
“They’re sending the police and an ambulance.” I held the phone up to indicate who they were. Peter nodded and followed me to the living room where we sat, glancing nervously toward the bedroom until the police arrived, followed by an ambulance.
After introducing themselves, the two uniformed officers stood in the doorway of Frank’s bedroom while the EMTs assessed Frank’s condition. I tried not to listen to the sounds they made, tried not to keep looking toward the bedroom door.
“He’s definitely dead,” one of the EMTs called to the officers. He motioned the other EMT to follow him out of the room.
“You sure?” one of the officers asked.
“Oh, yeah, I’m sure. You might want to call someone. There’s bruising around his throat consistent with strangulation.” The two EMTs stripped off the latex gloves they’d donned on their way to Frank’s bed.
“Crap,” the older officer said. “Stay here. Don’t let anyone in or out of the room.”
“Out?” the younger officer asked.
“You know what I mean. You remember what they told you about being the first on the scene?”
“Yeah, I think so. Secure the scene and call it in. Right?” The young officer looked nervous. I figured it was probably his first murder scene. Maybe his first crime scene. Hillsdale was a small community mostly made up of people in a higher-than-average income bracket. I doubted they had much in the way of crime. At least not this kind of crime. They probably had some white-collar criminals. Some people who should be in jail for lying and taking advantage of the unsuspecting. But probably not many murderers.
“Right. All you gotta do is keep the room secure. I’ll call it in.” The older officer shook his head and walked out to the squad car.
I waited until the officer had made two phone calls. “Excuse me, Officer. Would it be all right if I went back to my shoot?”
“Your what? You’re shooting something?”
“No!” I was rattled by the suspicious look on his face. “I mean, I’m doing a photo shoot. Mr. Johnson was supplying the dogs for our—it’s for a pet calendar.”
“I see. No reason you can’t go. I’ve got your name and contact information if we need to talk to you.”
“Great. I’ll be in that big building to the left and behind the house if you need me.”
“I can’t believe this,” Peter said as he moved toward the door and then turned with his hand on the doorknob.
“I know.” I was feeling a little freaked out. I’d never seen a dead body before. Well, my great-aunt Maude, but she’d been all dressed up and made up and lying in an expensive coffin. This was very different.
“There’s nothing we can do here, and I think you could use the distraction.” Peter didn’t look like he was doing very well, either. He was a little pale and his eyes seemed unfocused. Maybe he was suffering from shock. Probably I should distract him from the situation. I wasn’t sure it would help, but I knew I could definitely use some distraction.
“Peter, maybe we should continue with the shoot. It’s not that I’m unfeeling about Frank; it’s just that we need something to do, you know?”
“What?” Peter looked at me. “Oh, yeah, the photo shoot. And you’ll need me to handle the dogs.” He looked at the controlled but urgent activity in the bedroom and the living room. “Might as well. I don’t think there’s anything we can do here.” Peter picked up the water dishes we’d come for and I followed him out of the house, then noticed that Captain was following us.
“Uh, Peter? Captain seems to want to come with us.”
“Oh, I should have thought about that.” Peter stopped and waited for Captain to catch up to him. “He’s used to being with Frank all the time. I’m sure he’ll have a lot of separation anxiety over this.”
“What are you going to do about him?”
“I’ll keep him, I guess. Frank used to leave him with me when he traveled to places he couldn’t take Captain. It won’t be easy for Captain no matter where he is, but it’ll probably be better if he stays with me.”
“It looked like the cops thought Frank might have been strangled.”
“Yeah, I heard the EMTs say something about that. I’d like to say I’m shocked, but I’m not, really.”
“You aren’t?” What kind of person isn’t shocked when a friend is murdered?
“Frank had a lot of enemies. It’s not like I know of anyone who would really want to kill him, but I know a lot of people who won’t be the least bit sorry that he’s dead. The cops will probably have a long list of suspects.”
“I see.”
“In fact, I probably head up that list myself.”
“You do?” I didn’t think he should be telling me this kind of stuff. I liked Peter and I didn’t want to have to tell the cops that he might be a suspect.
“Frank cheated me out of my part of the business a few years ago. I guess it was my fault as much as his. I signed papers without really reading them. Because Frank told me to, and I was naïve enough to trust him. I discovered later that he lied about what was in them.”
“I can see why that would make you angry.”
“Yeah, but I got over it. After I dealt with the fact that it was due to my own stupidity. We were still co-owners of the business even if I didn’t get any of the profits from the talent part of it, so we had to learn to get along, and in time, we got back to being friends. Or at least friendly. Although I never really trusted him again.”
I didn’t say anything because, really, how do you respond to something like that? Especially now that Frank was dead.
“I’m sorry Frank’s dead. I can’t say I thought he was a good man, but I don’t think he ever did anything to deserve to die.”
“If you and Frank were co-owners of the business, what happens to it now?” I asked.
“We had a contract that stated if either partner died, the other one inherited the business. I was still Frank’s partner legally, so I guess I’m the owner now.”
Uh -oh. That sounded like an awful lot of motive to me. I resisted the urge to put my hands over my ears and sing loudly to prevent hearing any more of what Peter had to say.
“Not that there’s much left now.”
So, maybe he didn’t have all that great a motive to kill Frank. Still, I thought it would be better if we dropped the conversation and concentrated on the doggie photos.
“Lionel should have the set ready for the August shot.”
“That’s Fifi and Snoozie, right?”
“I can’t remember their names. It’s the Pekinese and the Shih Tzu. And they’re supposed to be in bikinis. Will that be a problem?”
“Not at all. Fifi and Snoozie have worked in commercials and movies for years. They’re both used to being handled and posed and dressed up. Did you bring costumes or do I need to get their own wardrobes?”
“They have their own wardrobes?”
Peter laughed. “Hard to believe, isn’t it? But, yes, they have rather extensive wardrobes, including swimsuits.”
“I think Lionel brought swimsuits with him. If they work we can just use them.”
We had reached the arena building and Peter held the door open for me, then went to check on the dogs. Lionel had done a good job with the August set. We had the same backdrop for a blue sky, and the floor of the platform had been draped with a bright beach towel and accessorized with a sand pail and shovel, a few large sea-shells, and several bottles of doggie sunscreen that was manufactured and sold by the Pet Place. I wasn’t quite sure how you would go about applying sunscreen to an animal covered with fur, but all I had to do was feature them prominently in the photograph.
“What’s with all the cop cars?” Lionel asked.
“Well, something’s happened,” I hedged. I wasn’t sure how Lionel would react to murder.
“Did somebody break into the place?” Lionel shook his head. “You’d think we would have heard something.”
“No, it wasn’t that. Peter and I found Frank in his bed. Dead.”
“Dead?” Lionel paled. “What happened? Did he die in his sleep?”
“No. It appears it was, um, foul play.”
“Foul play? You mean he was killed?”
Lionel looked horrified, and I thought maybe we should just cancel the shoot and go home. But that meant I’d have to go back to the house and tell the officer. I didn’t want to go back to the house, and I didn’t think they’d let us leave anyway. I knew from dating Scott that the police would want to ask us a lot of questions. We’d probably be here for hours anyway, and I’d rather have something to do than simply sit in a chair thinking about what had happened.
“Look, Lionel, the police are probably going to want to talk to us at some point, so I thought we’d all be better off if we keep busy until then.”
“Yeah, sure. I’ll go finish the set.”
I checked the lighting and took a few test shots while Lionel brushed dog hair from the set and tinkered with placing the products just right. Peter came in with Fifi and Snoozie and Lionel gave him the bikinis. While Peter got the dogs dressed, Lionel filled the water dishes for the other dogs. Finally, we were ready to shoot.
The little dogs were perfect. In spite of being in their teens, they cavorted like puppies. I snapped shot after shot, happy to have something to take my mind off the vision of Frank’s dead body. Then Snoozie dropped like a lead weight.
I stopped shooting and waited for her to get up. She didn’t. She didn’t even twitch. Oh, dear God, I killed the dog. A sweet, little fluffy dog. I screamed and Peter looked over, then jumped up and ran to the platform where Snoozie had cavorted her last cavort. He reached a hand out to stroke the dog, and she jumped up like nothing had happened.
“Sorry, I should have told you. Snoozie has narcolepsy. That’s why we call her Snoozie.”
“Oh.”
“It never lasts very long. Sorry I forgot to tell you. I guess I was distracted.”
I shot a few more photos, but my heart just wasn’t in it. I’d had too much death for one day, and now I was afraid that Snoozie would drop into a deep sleep again. It was just too much. I cursed Connie and her beach bum fiancé under my breath.
“Okay, that’s it for today. Lionel, just put away what you need to; we’ll be shooting again tomorrow.”
“What time do you want to start?” Peter asked.
“If we can get started by ten—”
“Skye.”
I froze at the familiar voice. My heart fluttered and my stomach did that weird little flip that makes you feel like your knees might buckle. I swallowed hard and turned to face Scott Madison. He looked good. Really good. Maybe too good. Scott stood a little over six feet tall with dark curly hair and brilliant blue eyes. He had the kind of muscular build that looked good in any kind of clothes. And even better without any clothes.
“Scott. What are you doing here?” My voice sounded normal, which was surprising. I’d expected it to come out in a squeak.
“Homicide.” He nodded in the direction of the main house.
“You’re investigating?” I hadn’t expected Scott to be the investigating officer because he worked with the Portland Police Bureau. We were in the tiny town of Hillsdale, where they had their own cops.
“Mayor Knutson called the Bureau for assistance. They have a small police force here and no one trained to investigate a crime of this nature.”
“I see.” Just my luck that they would send Scott instead of one of the many other detectives I didn’t have a personal history with.
“What are you doing here?” he asked.
“I’m shooting a calendar for the Pet Place. Mr. Johnson was supplying the doggie talent.”
“And you are?” Scott squinted at Peter.
“Peter Machio. I’m Frank’s partner.” Peter cleared his throat. “Was Frank’s partner.”
“Oh, I’m sorry for your loss. I’m afraid you’ll need to find another place to stay for the time being. I only have a couple of crime scene investigators, and it’s going to take a while to go over everything.”
“That’s all right. I don’t live here.”
“You don’t live here?” Scott asked.
“No. I live in Portland.”
“Oh. I just assumed when you said you were partners …”
“I see.” Peter shook his head. “I meant business partner.”
“Right. Right. Sorry for the misunderstanding.” Scott turned toward me and rolled his eyes. I bit my lip to keep from laughing. At least he was trying to be sensitive to other lifestyles.
“So, you’re using the dogs that are in the kennel over by the house?” Scott asked me.
“Of course. What other dogs would I be using?”
Scott shot me a look that spoke volumes about my flip answer. “The house is off-limits until we finish our investigation. The kennels are connected to the house, so I can’t have anyone coming or going until we finish the investigation.”
“How long will that take? I’ve got to finish this shoot.”
“Shouldn’t take more than two or three days.”
“Great. My biggest job ever and I won’t be on schedule.” I sounded like a bitch, even to myself. I wasn’t that concerned about the shoot. I mean, I was concerned, but I wasn’t really thinking about it at the moment. I was just tired and a little strung out by the murder.
“What about the dogs in the kennel now?” Peter asked.
“They can stay there,” Scott said.
“No, I mean, what about food, water, and exercise for them?”
“Oh, right.” Scott frowned in thought.
“Actually, I can put food and water out in the yard for them,” Peter said. “All the kennels have a door that opens onto the yard. But I’ll need to get into the house to get the dishes.”
“Sure, I’ll have one of the officers escort you to do that. And I’ll tell the crime scene investigators to go over the kennels first. They should be done by tomorrow afternoon at the latest.”
“Thank you. I appreciate that.” I turned to Peter and Lionel. “I guess to be safe, we should just cancel the shoot tomorrow. We’ll start again on Thursday at nine. Lionel, I’ll call Miss Kitty and see if we can start with the cats and kittens tomorrow.” The men both nodded, and Lionel moved to the table to put away his props.
“Mr. Machio, you said the kennels all open onto the yard?” Scott asked.
“That’s right. The dogs are free to go out into the yard any time they want.”
“So, someone could have climbed the fence into the yard, then gone through a dog door to get into the kennel and then into the house?”
“That wouldn’t have happened.”
“Why is that?”
“Would you climb over a fence knowing that more than a dozen dogs would be there?”
Scott scratched his chin. “I guess it would depend on why I wanted to get in.”
“The talent dogs probably wouldn’t have attacked anyone,” Peter said. “They’re used to being around a lot of different people. But Frank also boarded dogs that were here for agility training or attack training.”
“What’s agility training?” Scott asked.
“We set up a course that has tunnels, ramps, weave poles, jumps, and tables that the dog is trained to go through. It’s a competition for dogs, but some owners just do it to give their dogs exercise.”
“So, it’s like an obstacle course?” Scott asked. “And Frank trained dogs in this?”
“Actually, I did all the agility training,” Peter said.
“And you mentioned attack training. Did you do that, as well?” Scott made a note in his small notebook.