Poison and Party Hats, page 27
“Do you want to come over for dinner tonight? Bryant has a basketball game out of town. I was thinking I could make your favorite gumbo.” She added the last part in a sing-song voice.
My stomach lurched. It was way too early to think about gumbo. Just the mention of it brought on a flash of heartburn. But she sounded so excited. It’d been years since I had good Cajun cooking—I tried to keep a cleaner diet these days—but there was no telling when I’d get another chance if I passed this one up.
“I thought we could have a girls’ night,” Chelle said when I hesitated too long. “Oh! You could bring Ollie over so he and Pepper can play.”
I rolled my eyes at that. She couldn’t see me, so I didn’t have to hide how ridiculous I thought the idea was. I wasn’t going to pack up the dog to take him to dinner and a playdate. I thought I’d been pretty tolerant of him, all things considered, but that was going a step too far. I was not going to become a crazy dog lady like everyone else in this town with nothing better to do.
“Dinner sounds great,” I said, making a mental note to pack some antacids before I went over there.
“I can’t wait! Come over whenever you feel like it, unless— Did you need more help with your investigation?” she asked hopefully. Guilt twisted my stomach into knots. Chelle didn’t have a lot going on when she wasn’t cutting hair, and despite all the gossip she picked up at the salon, every time we hung out, I got the impression that she missed having someone she could talk to. Everyone talked at her, but who asked her how her life was going?
I hadn’t. I’d been too busy letting her fawn over my stories of New York to even consider it. We could talk at dinner, though. A girls’ night would be good. A girls’ night would be safe, and I wouldn’t have to worry about her getting caught in the crosshairs if things went sideways.
“I think I’ll be all right on my own today,” I said. Did I have any idea what I planned to do? No. But Chelle didn’t need to know that. I scrubbed my hand over my face again, wiping sleep crust from my eyes. A nap sounded like a good idea, but there was too much to do. Even if I didn’t know where to take the investigation next, I still had the matter of going through Eliza’s belongings for my keep, trash, and donate piles. Not to mention my actual job. Julian might have reassigned my story, but that didn’t leave me free to forget about work. I always needed the next story. Even when I finished one, there was no time to rest on my accomplishments. It was a constant churn that didn’t leave me the luxury of taking a breather.
“I’ll see you later,” I told her. “I’m looking forward to your gumbo.”
“Okay,” she answered, sounding unsure. “Be careful.”
“I will,” I promised, setting my phone on the kitchen counter after the call ended. I stood at the sink, drinking my coffee while I looked out the window at the backyard. Ollie had slipped through the dog door while I was on the phone, and he was engrossed with smelling every square inch of his territory.
Think, Lucy. In an investigation like this, I could leave no stone unturned. So where was the pebble I’d missed?
There was at least one person from the party I hadn’t talked to yet. And I still had questions about the medication that had killed Eliza. Maybe I could kill two birds with one stone. I checked both of the medicine cabinets in her house and turned up empty.
Of course, Eliza was the kind of workaholic who kept her medications at the office since she spent more time there than at home. I locked the door, leaving Ollie behind, praying he’d be well-behaved. At least all of my belongings were safe in the guest bedroom. If he wanted to destroy something of Eliza’s, there wasn’t much I could do to help that.
He didn’t even notice I was leaving until he heard the door shut. Then I could hear him racing through the house before he slammed into the other side, scratching and whining to be let out. I didn’t plan on being gone long, though. He could survive on his own for an hour or two, surely.
Darla was busy in the back when I entered the shop, so I popped into the bathroom, crossing my fingers I was right about my aunt. Sure enough, the shop’s bathroom had a medicine cabinet full of Eliza’s prescription bottles. I swept all the contents into my handbag, then headed into town.
Shongoloo’s only pharmacy had still been a family-owned drugstore when I lived in town. Sometime in the last decade it’d been bought out by a national chain, but the only real difference was a new sign above the door. Even this early in the morning, there was a line at the pharmacy counter with only one person to deal with them all. The pharmacist, Duggar Ward, was probably in his late sixties, with silvering hair and a crabby expression that said he thought he should’ve retired a long time ago. Despite the line, he was in no hurry as he shuffled around, carefully examining each bottle of pills before handing them over.
I’d been in line nearly twenty minutes when it was finally my turn.
“Picking up or dropping off?” Duggar asked, looking at me over the rim of his gold-framed glasses. He glanced at his watch, more irritated by what he found there. Not quite ten thirty—a little too early for a lunch break, thankfully, or he might’ve just put the ‘Back in an hour’ sign up while I was standing there.
“I actually have some questions I was hoping you could answer?”
He expelled an exaggerated sigh. “Company policy is I can’t give any medical advice, so—”
I plopped my purse on the counter. “I’m not after advice,” I said quickly, pulling out Eliza’s pill bottles. “I’m wondering if any of these medications have been tampered with or are known to have interactions with MAOIs.”
Duggar’s posture straightened, and he narrowed his eyes at me. “You’re Eliza’s kin, aren’t you?”
“Her niece,” I confirmed. “There was a medication in her system that the coroner didn’t expect, and I’m just trying to figure out what happened. Did she start any of these recently?”
Duggar didn’t even look at the bottles. “I can’t answer any questions about another person’s medical history.”
“Can you answer general questions about the possible interactions?”
His frown deepened as he realized I wasn’t going to be brushed off so easily. He finally looked down at the bottles, examining the labels. Then he opened each one and dumped out a few pills to look at more closely. A couple of the bottles were empty, and he gave those labels extra scrutiny.
“This isn’t even one of mine,” he said, passing over one of the empties—the supplements Eliza’s trainer Vince had given her.
“Could it have been something in this?” I asked, looking over the label myself. From what I could tell, it was a glorified multivitamin with caffeine added for an energy boost.
He shook his head. “I don’t see anything here that would have the interaction you’re talking about.”
“And all of those pills are the right ones?” I pressed.
Duggar’s posture stiffened, his expression suddenly closed off. “I already told that damn deputy. I might miscount once in a blue moon, but I’ve never given anyone the wrong medication, and I don’t appreciate the insinuation—”
“I think you misunderstood me,” I said, trying to repair the damage before he could kick me out. “I thought maybe someone tampered with her medications, or maybe replaced them with another? The coroner mentioned that MAOIs are rarely prescribed these days. Is there anyone in town who—”
“You know I can’t tell you that,” he said, shoving the pile of pill bottles across the counter to me. He looked past my shoulder to the two people in line behind me. “Sorry, folks, closed for lunch. Come back in an hour,” he announced, rolling down the metal shutter while his waiting customers grumbled about the inconvenience.
With all of Eliza’s medications back in my bag, I left the pharmacy with my eyes glued to the exit, purposefully avoiding the glares sent my way. It didn’t matter if it was me or someone else at his counter; I was sure Duggar would’ve taken his lunch the moment he thought he could get away with it. Unfortunately, it was my honor to be the scapegoat. Just what I needed—more of a reason to watch my back around here.
I picked up lunch for myself at the diner, then headed back to Eliza’s house to regroup. Maybe if I started writing my findings out the way I would with a story, something would click. If nothing else, it gave me the illusion of being productive when I didn’t know what else to do. It’d been a long time since I’d been so stumped over a case. Was I just too close to it? Maybe there was someone else who’d be better suited to look into it.
Don’t be ridiculous. I’d already tried to get the local law enforcement involved, and that was a bust. As far as anyone else at the magazine being a better fit—I was a senior staffer for a reason. We had a few solid writers on our team, but no one had my talents. I was the one everyone came to when they were at a loss.
Who could solve the puzzle if the puzzle-solver couldn’t?
I stared at my laptop screen waiting for words to materialize even though my fingers weren’t moving. I shifted in my seat, trying to find a spot on the old desk chair that still had padding. The blank screen taunted me, but the pain in my tailbone wasn’t conducive to creative thinking. I needed to get comfortable.
Fifteen minutes later, I’d relocated my lunch, laptop, charging cable, and assorted tech into the living room so I could work from the couch. The finishing touch was the fresh cup of coffee I brought in from the kitchen. In the time it took me to get my drink, Ollie had stolen my spot.
“Nope. Nuh-uh. Move it.”
Ollie snuggled deeper into the couch, stretching his legs out in front of him with a big yawn.
“Yeah, I’m sure it’s real comfy. That’s why I want to sit there. Scram.” When he didn’t show any signs of budging, I decided to play dirty. “Fine, you know what?” I set my coffee mug down and stomped into the kitchen.
As soon as I opened the Scooby Snacks cookie jar, he ran in, tongue hanging out. He stood up on his back legs, dancing back and forth to stay up.
I laughed, putting the lid back on the jar. “Sucker. You make it too easy.” While he stayed in the kitchen waiting for a treat that wasn’t coming—I was not going to reward him for stealing my spot—I reclaimed my rightful seat on the couch and snuggled in with my laptop.
The next thing I knew, the sun was coming through the windows at a low angle, Ollie was curled up at my feet, and my head felt fuzzy from the impromptu nap. My laptop had gone into sleep mode long ago, though it was still balanced on my stomach. I must have been more tired than I realized. I’d lost the whole day, and Chelle was probably wondering where I was.
“Crap,” I muttered, pulling myself further into the land of the conscious. Chelle told me to come by whenever, but I was sure she expected me before sundown. That didn’t leave me with much time to fix my face and hair. Thankfully, Chelle wouldn’t judge me too harshly for bags under my eyes or a few flyaway hairs.
Ollie met me at the door, his big eyes darting between me and his leash on the wall, all his excitement held back with the most tenuous spring. One twitch of my hand could set him off.
“No. You’ve been going everywhere with me lately. I’m going without you. Don’t look at me like that. You’ll survive. Just don’t destroy anything.”
Ollie tilted his head to the side, confused, then looked to the leash again before letting out an echoing yap.
“No,” I repeated, pulling the door shut behind me. He needed to learn sometime. His next owner was unlikely to be as indulgent as Eliza was. I told the little mutt I was going to find him a good home, but that would be a lot harder if he was an unshakable barnacle. How many people wanted that out of a dog?
I got all the way to the car before I realized I forgot my antacids. Chelle probably had something, but there was really only one specific kind that worked for me, and the thought of being up all night with heartburn was not appealing. I had to go back inside. Ollie knew I was coming too. He stuck his nose through the letter slot in the door, snuffling and grunting. I shook the keys without unlocking the door, and he whined, pawing at the other side.
He was way too spoiled. He had to learn he couldn’t always get his way.
The minute I opened the door, he jumped up on me, barking and running in circles. “Get back,” I grumbled, pushing past him. “You’re still not coming.” I hurried back to my room, grabbed the pills, and by the time I returned to the front door, Ollie was lying on the doormat, looking like one of those sad animals from the fundraising commercials.
The puppy eyes shouldn’t have fazed me, but I knew I’d get the same treatment at Chelle’s when I showed up without him. If she wanted to see him so bad, why didn’t she adopt him?
Actually, that wasn’t a terrible idea. It might take some finessing to bring the subject up without it feeling forced, but if I played my cards right, it could work. “Fine.” I sighed, reaching for his leash. “But you’re staying in the back seat this time, you hear me?”
I doubted Ollie could hear anything over the sounds of his own excited barking bouncing off the walks. He jumped, snapping at the leash impatiently. I bent down closer to eye level so I could hook it to his collar. “No,” I scolded him. “None of that either. If you’re coming with me, you need to be on your best behavior, got it?”
Ollie’s answer was a long lick across the palm of my hand. Not a promising start.
Chapter 16
Not only did Ollie ignore my ultimatum that he needed to stay in the back, but he also wouldn’t stay in the passenger seat. It seemed our little nap had left him with boundless energy, and he could hardly contain it. He kept running from one window to the other, jumping into my lap without warning, then darting back to the other side. There were a few close calls with mailboxes thanks to him making me swerve all around. It was a good thing there weren’t any cops around, or I’d have been stuck with a field sobriety test, no doubt.
By the time we got to Chelle’s house, my thoughts of finesse had flown right out the window. I opened the car door and didn’t even try to hold him back. “Go,” I growled at him, not that he waited for permission. He ran barking across the lawn to the chain-link fence that marked the backyard where he met a big, fluffy white dog that barked right back. The fluffy dog looked three or four times Ollie’s size, but its bark was no bigger than his, and their high-pitched yips and yaps carried down Chelle’s street.
Her neighbors must have been thrilled.
The side door of the house opened, and Chelle called out. “Pepper! What’s got you all riled up?” She stepped around the door and squealed. “Ollie! Hey, buddy.”
I took my time following, and by the time I caught up, she’d already opened the gate to let us in.
“I’m glad you brought him. They’re going to have so much fun,” Chelle said, coming in for a quick hug. The dogs were already running circuits around her big yard, so fast they were just a blur of black and white.
I realized I was grinding my teeth and forced my jaw to relax. “He’s lucky I didn’t toss him out of the car. Do you know how many times I almost crashed thanks to him?”
Chelle smirked, waving me toward the door without comment.
“What’s that look for?” I snapped.
She tried to look all innocent, but she wasn’t any better at it now than she’d been in high school. “Nothing. Are you thirsty?”
“Chelle,” I hissed a warning.
She sighed, rolling her eyes. “Are you sure it’s Ollie’s fault?” she asked. “No offense, but I’ve seen you behind the wheel and... Let’s just say there’s a reason I thought you might want someone to drive you around town.”
I folded my arms over my chest, suddenly defensive. “I’m a New Yorker. I don’t need to drive.”
“Until you leave New York,” she teased.
“Which I’ll probably never do again,” I muttered. “I have to get him out of my hair. You don’t know anyone who’d be willing to take him off my hands, do you?”
Chelle laughed, heading inside while the dogs wrestled and carried on.
Right behind her, I took the glass of wine she offered. “I’m serious. You sure you don’t want another dog?”
“Luce, look around. My house cannot contain any more chaos. Besides, we both know he’d just wind up back at Eliza’s house.” She smirked over the rim of her glass, and I got the impression that she found my predicament highly amusing.
She had a point, though. Ollie did have a knack for finding his way home. And her house did seem a little chaotic. Her son’s sports equipment was strewn here and there and everywhere. There were dog toys scattered in walkways, textbooks piled on the kitchen table, and a whole heap of shoes by the front door. It wasn’t messy, but it was certainly well lived in. It looked like there wasn’t quite enough space for the people who already lived here; adding another dog to the mix would only exacerbate that. And that mountain of shoes wouldn’t stand a chance left alone with Ollie.
“Are you hungry? The gumbo’s ready whenever. How’s the investigation going? Have you learned anything new?”
As much as I thought Chelle secretly wanted someone to talk to about her life, she didn’t make it easy to turn the tables on her. With ten questions a minute, who could keep up?
“I could eat,” I said, just as my bag started vibrating.
Chelle pulled a couple of bowls out of her cupboards. “You better get that.”
It could be work. Or the real estate agent. Please be good news. I needed it. I fished the phone out of my bag, and my stomach dropped. The number on my screen belonged to the county sheriff’s office. For a moment, I considered not answering it. I didn’t want to let the deputy get under my skin again, and I had a feeling he was going to scold me for poking around after he warned me off, and I wasn’t in the mood.
Chelle looked over her shoulder expectantly, and I groaned. Fine.
“Hello?”
“Miss Layton! Deputy Boudreaux here. Do you have a moment to talk?”
I circled Chelle’s kitchen table until I found a chair without a backpack or heap of sweaters on it. “About what?” I asked, putting my elbow on the table.
My stomach lurched. It was way too early to think about gumbo. Just the mention of it brought on a flash of heartburn. But she sounded so excited. It’d been years since I had good Cajun cooking—I tried to keep a cleaner diet these days—but there was no telling when I’d get another chance if I passed this one up.
“I thought we could have a girls’ night,” Chelle said when I hesitated too long. “Oh! You could bring Ollie over so he and Pepper can play.”
I rolled my eyes at that. She couldn’t see me, so I didn’t have to hide how ridiculous I thought the idea was. I wasn’t going to pack up the dog to take him to dinner and a playdate. I thought I’d been pretty tolerant of him, all things considered, but that was going a step too far. I was not going to become a crazy dog lady like everyone else in this town with nothing better to do.
“Dinner sounds great,” I said, making a mental note to pack some antacids before I went over there.
“I can’t wait! Come over whenever you feel like it, unless— Did you need more help with your investigation?” she asked hopefully. Guilt twisted my stomach into knots. Chelle didn’t have a lot going on when she wasn’t cutting hair, and despite all the gossip she picked up at the salon, every time we hung out, I got the impression that she missed having someone she could talk to. Everyone talked at her, but who asked her how her life was going?
I hadn’t. I’d been too busy letting her fawn over my stories of New York to even consider it. We could talk at dinner, though. A girls’ night would be good. A girls’ night would be safe, and I wouldn’t have to worry about her getting caught in the crosshairs if things went sideways.
“I think I’ll be all right on my own today,” I said. Did I have any idea what I planned to do? No. But Chelle didn’t need to know that. I scrubbed my hand over my face again, wiping sleep crust from my eyes. A nap sounded like a good idea, but there was too much to do. Even if I didn’t know where to take the investigation next, I still had the matter of going through Eliza’s belongings for my keep, trash, and donate piles. Not to mention my actual job. Julian might have reassigned my story, but that didn’t leave me free to forget about work. I always needed the next story. Even when I finished one, there was no time to rest on my accomplishments. It was a constant churn that didn’t leave me the luxury of taking a breather.
“I’ll see you later,” I told her. “I’m looking forward to your gumbo.”
“Okay,” she answered, sounding unsure. “Be careful.”
“I will,” I promised, setting my phone on the kitchen counter after the call ended. I stood at the sink, drinking my coffee while I looked out the window at the backyard. Ollie had slipped through the dog door while I was on the phone, and he was engrossed with smelling every square inch of his territory.
Think, Lucy. In an investigation like this, I could leave no stone unturned. So where was the pebble I’d missed?
There was at least one person from the party I hadn’t talked to yet. And I still had questions about the medication that had killed Eliza. Maybe I could kill two birds with one stone. I checked both of the medicine cabinets in her house and turned up empty.
Of course, Eliza was the kind of workaholic who kept her medications at the office since she spent more time there than at home. I locked the door, leaving Ollie behind, praying he’d be well-behaved. At least all of my belongings were safe in the guest bedroom. If he wanted to destroy something of Eliza’s, there wasn’t much I could do to help that.
He didn’t even notice I was leaving until he heard the door shut. Then I could hear him racing through the house before he slammed into the other side, scratching and whining to be let out. I didn’t plan on being gone long, though. He could survive on his own for an hour or two, surely.
Darla was busy in the back when I entered the shop, so I popped into the bathroom, crossing my fingers I was right about my aunt. Sure enough, the shop’s bathroom had a medicine cabinet full of Eliza’s prescription bottles. I swept all the contents into my handbag, then headed into town.
Shongoloo’s only pharmacy had still been a family-owned drugstore when I lived in town. Sometime in the last decade it’d been bought out by a national chain, but the only real difference was a new sign above the door. Even this early in the morning, there was a line at the pharmacy counter with only one person to deal with them all. The pharmacist, Duggar Ward, was probably in his late sixties, with silvering hair and a crabby expression that said he thought he should’ve retired a long time ago. Despite the line, he was in no hurry as he shuffled around, carefully examining each bottle of pills before handing them over.
I’d been in line nearly twenty minutes when it was finally my turn.
“Picking up or dropping off?” Duggar asked, looking at me over the rim of his gold-framed glasses. He glanced at his watch, more irritated by what he found there. Not quite ten thirty—a little too early for a lunch break, thankfully, or he might’ve just put the ‘Back in an hour’ sign up while I was standing there.
“I actually have some questions I was hoping you could answer?”
He expelled an exaggerated sigh. “Company policy is I can’t give any medical advice, so—”
I plopped my purse on the counter. “I’m not after advice,” I said quickly, pulling out Eliza’s pill bottles. “I’m wondering if any of these medications have been tampered with or are known to have interactions with MAOIs.”
Duggar’s posture straightened, and he narrowed his eyes at me. “You’re Eliza’s kin, aren’t you?”
“Her niece,” I confirmed. “There was a medication in her system that the coroner didn’t expect, and I’m just trying to figure out what happened. Did she start any of these recently?”
Duggar didn’t even look at the bottles. “I can’t answer any questions about another person’s medical history.”
“Can you answer general questions about the possible interactions?”
His frown deepened as he realized I wasn’t going to be brushed off so easily. He finally looked down at the bottles, examining the labels. Then he opened each one and dumped out a few pills to look at more closely. A couple of the bottles were empty, and he gave those labels extra scrutiny.
“This isn’t even one of mine,” he said, passing over one of the empties—the supplements Eliza’s trainer Vince had given her.
“Could it have been something in this?” I asked, looking over the label myself. From what I could tell, it was a glorified multivitamin with caffeine added for an energy boost.
He shook his head. “I don’t see anything here that would have the interaction you’re talking about.”
“And all of those pills are the right ones?” I pressed.
Duggar’s posture stiffened, his expression suddenly closed off. “I already told that damn deputy. I might miscount once in a blue moon, but I’ve never given anyone the wrong medication, and I don’t appreciate the insinuation—”
“I think you misunderstood me,” I said, trying to repair the damage before he could kick me out. “I thought maybe someone tampered with her medications, or maybe replaced them with another? The coroner mentioned that MAOIs are rarely prescribed these days. Is there anyone in town who—”
“You know I can’t tell you that,” he said, shoving the pile of pill bottles across the counter to me. He looked past my shoulder to the two people in line behind me. “Sorry, folks, closed for lunch. Come back in an hour,” he announced, rolling down the metal shutter while his waiting customers grumbled about the inconvenience.
With all of Eliza’s medications back in my bag, I left the pharmacy with my eyes glued to the exit, purposefully avoiding the glares sent my way. It didn’t matter if it was me or someone else at his counter; I was sure Duggar would’ve taken his lunch the moment he thought he could get away with it. Unfortunately, it was my honor to be the scapegoat. Just what I needed—more of a reason to watch my back around here.
I picked up lunch for myself at the diner, then headed back to Eliza’s house to regroup. Maybe if I started writing my findings out the way I would with a story, something would click. If nothing else, it gave me the illusion of being productive when I didn’t know what else to do. It’d been a long time since I’d been so stumped over a case. Was I just too close to it? Maybe there was someone else who’d be better suited to look into it.
Don’t be ridiculous. I’d already tried to get the local law enforcement involved, and that was a bust. As far as anyone else at the magazine being a better fit—I was a senior staffer for a reason. We had a few solid writers on our team, but no one had my talents. I was the one everyone came to when they were at a loss.
Who could solve the puzzle if the puzzle-solver couldn’t?
I stared at my laptop screen waiting for words to materialize even though my fingers weren’t moving. I shifted in my seat, trying to find a spot on the old desk chair that still had padding. The blank screen taunted me, but the pain in my tailbone wasn’t conducive to creative thinking. I needed to get comfortable.
Fifteen minutes later, I’d relocated my lunch, laptop, charging cable, and assorted tech into the living room so I could work from the couch. The finishing touch was the fresh cup of coffee I brought in from the kitchen. In the time it took me to get my drink, Ollie had stolen my spot.
“Nope. Nuh-uh. Move it.”
Ollie snuggled deeper into the couch, stretching his legs out in front of him with a big yawn.
“Yeah, I’m sure it’s real comfy. That’s why I want to sit there. Scram.” When he didn’t show any signs of budging, I decided to play dirty. “Fine, you know what?” I set my coffee mug down and stomped into the kitchen.
As soon as I opened the Scooby Snacks cookie jar, he ran in, tongue hanging out. He stood up on his back legs, dancing back and forth to stay up.
I laughed, putting the lid back on the jar. “Sucker. You make it too easy.” While he stayed in the kitchen waiting for a treat that wasn’t coming—I was not going to reward him for stealing my spot—I reclaimed my rightful seat on the couch and snuggled in with my laptop.
The next thing I knew, the sun was coming through the windows at a low angle, Ollie was curled up at my feet, and my head felt fuzzy from the impromptu nap. My laptop had gone into sleep mode long ago, though it was still balanced on my stomach. I must have been more tired than I realized. I’d lost the whole day, and Chelle was probably wondering where I was.
“Crap,” I muttered, pulling myself further into the land of the conscious. Chelle told me to come by whenever, but I was sure she expected me before sundown. That didn’t leave me with much time to fix my face and hair. Thankfully, Chelle wouldn’t judge me too harshly for bags under my eyes or a few flyaway hairs.
Ollie met me at the door, his big eyes darting between me and his leash on the wall, all his excitement held back with the most tenuous spring. One twitch of my hand could set him off.
“No. You’ve been going everywhere with me lately. I’m going without you. Don’t look at me like that. You’ll survive. Just don’t destroy anything.”
Ollie tilted his head to the side, confused, then looked to the leash again before letting out an echoing yap.
“No,” I repeated, pulling the door shut behind me. He needed to learn sometime. His next owner was unlikely to be as indulgent as Eliza was. I told the little mutt I was going to find him a good home, but that would be a lot harder if he was an unshakable barnacle. How many people wanted that out of a dog?
I got all the way to the car before I realized I forgot my antacids. Chelle probably had something, but there was really only one specific kind that worked for me, and the thought of being up all night with heartburn was not appealing. I had to go back inside. Ollie knew I was coming too. He stuck his nose through the letter slot in the door, snuffling and grunting. I shook the keys without unlocking the door, and he whined, pawing at the other side.
He was way too spoiled. He had to learn he couldn’t always get his way.
The minute I opened the door, he jumped up on me, barking and running in circles. “Get back,” I grumbled, pushing past him. “You’re still not coming.” I hurried back to my room, grabbed the pills, and by the time I returned to the front door, Ollie was lying on the doormat, looking like one of those sad animals from the fundraising commercials.
The puppy eyes shouldn’t have fazed me, but I knew I’d get the same treatment at Chelle’s when I showed up without him. If she wanted to see him so bad, why didn’t she adopt him?
Actually, that wasn’t a terrible idea. It might take some finessing to bring the subject up without it feeling forced, but if I played my cards right, it could work. “Fine.” I sighed, reaching for his leash. “But you’re staying in the back seat this time, you hear me?”
I doubted Ollie could hear anything over the sounds of his own excited barking bouncing off the walks. He jumped, snapping at the leash impatiently. I bent down closer to eye level so I could hook it to his collar. “No,” I scolded him. “None of that either. If you’re coming with me, you need to be on your best behavior, got it?”
Ollie’s answer was a long lick across the palm of my hand. Not a promising start.
Chapter 16
Not only did Ollie ignore my ultimatum that he needed to stay in the back, but he also wouldn’t stay in the passenger seat. It seemed our little nap had left him with boundless energy, and he could hardly contain it. He kept running from one window to the other, jumping into my lap without warning, then darting back to the other side. There were a few close calls with mailboxes thanks to him making me swerve all around. It was a good thing there weren’t any cops around, or I’d have been stuck with a field sobriety test, no doubt.
By the time we got to Chelle’s house, my thoughts of finesse had flown right out the window. I opened the car door and didn’t even try to hold him back. “Go,” I growled at him, not that he waited for permission. He ran barking across the lawn to the chain-link fence that marked the backyard where he met a big, fluffy white dog that barked right back. The fluffy dog looked three or four times Ollie’s size, but its bark was no bigger than his, and their high-pitched yips and yaps carried down Chelle’s street.
Her neighbors must have been thrilled.
The side door of the house opened, and Chelle called out. “Pepper! What’s got you all riled up?” She stepped around the door and squealed. “Ollie! Hey, buddy.”
I took my time following, and by the time I caught up, she’d already opened the gate to let us in.
“I’m glad you brought him. They’re going to have so much fun,” Chelle said, coming in for a quick hug. The dogs were already running circuits around her big yard, so fast they were just a blur of black and white.
I realized I was grinding my teeth and forced my jaw to relax. “He’s lucky I didn’t toss him out of the car. Do you know how many times I almost crashed thanks to him?”
Chelle smirked, waving me toward the door without comment.
“What’s that look for?” I snapped.
She tried to look all innocent, but she wasn’t any better at it now than she’d been in high school. “Nothing. Are you thirsty?”
“Chelle,” I hissed a warning.
She sighed, rolling her eyes. “Are you sure it’s Ollie’s fault?” she asked. “No offense, but I’ve seen you behind the wheel and... Let’s just say there’s a reason I thought you might want someone to drive you around town.”
I folded my arms over my chest, suddenly defensive. “I’m a New Yorker. I don’t need to drive.”
“Until you leave New York,” she teased.
“Which I’ll probably never do again,” I muttered. “I have to get him out of my hair. You don’t know anyone who’d be willing to take him off my hands, do you?”
Chelle laughed, heading inside while the dogs wrestled and carried on.
Right behind her, I took the glass of wine she offered. “I’m serious. You sure you don’t want another dog?”
“Luce, look around. My house cannot contain any more chaos. Besides, we both know he’d just wind up back at Eliza’s house.” She smirked over the rim of her glass, and I got the impression that she found my predicament highly amusing.
She had a point, though. Ollie did have a knack for finding his way home. And her house did seem a little chaotic. Her son’s sports equipment was strewn here and there and everywhere. There were dog toys scattered in walkways, textbooks piled on the kitchen table, and a whole heap of shoes by the front door. It wasn’t messy, but it was certainly well lived in. It looked like there wasn’t quite enough space for the people who already lived here; adding another dog to the mix would only exacerbate that. And that mountain of shoes wouldn’t stand a chance left alone with Ollie.
“Are you hungry? The gumbo’s ready whenever. How’s the investigation going? Have you learned anything new?”
As much as I thought Chelle secretly wanted someone to talk to about her life, she didn’t make it easy to turn the tables on her. With ten questions a minute, who could keep up?
“I could eat,” I said, just as my bag started vibrating.
Chelle pulled a couple of bowls out of her cupboards. “You better get that.”
It could be work. Or the real estate agent. Please be good news. I needed it. I fished the phone out of my bag, and my stomach dropped. The number on my screen belonged to the county sheriff’s office. For a moment, I considered not answering it. I didn’t want to let the deputy get under my skin again, and I had a feeling he was going to scold me for poking around after he warned me off, and I wasn’t in the mood.
Chelle looked over her shoulder expectantly, and I groaned. Fine.
“Hello?”
“Miss Layton! Deputy Boudreaux here. Do you have a moment to talk?”
I circled Chelle’s kitchen table until I found a chair without a backpack or heap of sweaters on it. “About what?” I asked, putting my elbow on the table.
