Dial C for Chihuahua (23 page)

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Authors: Waverly Curtis

BOOK: Dial C for Chihuahua
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Chapter 41
“Geri, it is I, Pepe!”
“What?”
“Yes, I figured out how to work your telephone. It is
muy
simple. Once I got access to it!”
“How did you do that?” And what was I going to tell Felix?
“I knocked it down on the floor by pulling on the wire.”
I sighed. “Why did you bother to do all of this?” I asked.
“Because I miss you, Geri. I want you to come home,” he said.
“Pepe, I'm in the middle of dinner. It's very rude to disturb someone when they are eating dinner.”
Surprisingly that seemed to work.
“Oh, I understand that,” he said. “But you have left me without any dinner.”
“Forget it, Pepe,” I said. “You are not going to make me feel guilty. When I left you had a full bowl of food.”
“Yes, but it is now gone. And I am lonely and bored.”
“Go watch TV!” I said.
“There is nothing good on tonight.”
A woman came in looking for the bathroom. I squeezed against the wall and pointed her towards the door at the end of the hall.
“Well, I'll be home in about an hour. You will just have to find a way to entertain yourself until then.”
“So you give me permission to entertain myself in any way I see fit.”
“Yes, I mean, No! What do you have in mind?”
“You will see when you get home,” Pepe said.
“You better not make a mess,” I said.
“How could I make this mess worse?” he asked. I still had not picked up after the police search.
“Good point. I am hanging up now. Do not call again! I won't answer the phone!”
“Teenager?” the woman asked, her hand on the door.
I nodded. Pepe was as bad as a teenager.
“You might regret that,” Pepe said.
“Why?”
“Because Rebecca called about fifteen minutes ago. She said she had important news for you.”
“And you gave her my cell phone number?”
“No, I tried but she did not seem to understand me. Did you not give it to her yourself?”
I thought about that. I had given her one of my new cards earlier in the day.
“Apparently she doesn't consider it important enough to bother me at dinner time!” I told Pepe.
“What if something is wrong with Siren Song?” he asked.
“I'm sure she would not call me to talk about her dog. She would call her trainer or her vet. Good night!” And I clicked the phone shut. But when I went back to the table, there was a nagging worry in the back of my mind. What might Pepe do if he felt Siren Song was in danger? And why would Rebecca call me at nine at night?
As I settled back down in front of my now cold pasta, Felix looked up with a question in his eyes.
“A wrong number!” I said.
He looked a little doubtful at that. And I didn't want to lie to him.
“I think the dog knocked the phone off the hook,” I explained. “It was my home number, which is why I answered it.” I loaded my fork with the pasta but for some reason it didn't look as appetizing.
“Oh, I can see why you'd be concerned,” he said. “After the break-in the other night.” His plate was almost empty.
“Yes, well I could hear Pepe on the other end and he seemed fine, so I'm not going to worry about it,” I said, which was actually easier to say than do. “How is Sarge when you leave him home alone? Does he ever get into trouble?”
“Sarge?”
“Yes, the dog that attacked my car.”
“Oh, Sarge's not my dog. I was training him for a client,” Felix said.
“Training him to attack Toyotas?” I asked, but my joke did not go over well. Felix looked puzzled.
“No, I was training him to get used to strangers. He's an extremely shy dog. Emily, his owner, wants him to get more comfortable around strangers. So I had taken him to the convenience store where there would be a lot of pedestrian traffic and every time a stranger walked by, I gave him a treat. It was working pretty well, until he went crazy on me. I still can't figure out why he did that. He's not a dog-aggressive dog.”
“Can I tell you something?” I asked. I put down my fork. Now was the time to tell him about Pepe's unique talent.
“Sure,” Felix set aside his fork.
“I think it was my dog's fault,” I said.
“No, your dog was doing what comes naturally for a small dog. Protecting his territory,” Felix said. “Don't blame yourself.”
“I'm not blaming myself,” I said. “It's just that my dog—”
“Are you done?” the waitress asked, coming to collect our plates. “Would you like to see the dessert menu?”
I was tempted, torn between wanting to spend more time with Felix and wanting to get home to find out what Pepe was doing.
Felix must have seen the distress on my face. “Just the bill, please,” he said. I had to admit he was great at reading nonverbal signals.
“I hate to end our date early,” I said, “but . . .”
“I can see you're worried about leaving your dog alone,” said Felix. “Maybe we can pick up some ice cream on the way back to your place.”
Wow! He really knew the way to my heart. He seemed too good to be true.
 
 
“You were saying something about your dog.” Felix picked up the conversational thread as we left the neighborhood market, carrying a pint of my favorite ice cream, chocolate chip cookie dough. It had begun raining and we stood under the awning, looking out at the raindrops flashing by, illuminated by the streetlights.
“Yes,” I said. “Pepe has an unusual talent . . .”
“Answering telephones?” Felix guessed.
“No, more than that.”
“Turning on the TV?”
“No, it's more than that.”
“I'm intrigued,” said Felix.
My phone started ringing.
“Dialing the phone?” Felix guessed.
“Yes, but that's not it!” I said. I dug the phone out of my purse and flipped it open.
“What do you want now?” I asked. “I'm on my way home. If you were good, I'll give you some ice cream.”
“I beg your pardon?” The voice on the other end was not Pepe's.
I looked at the screen. It said the caller was R. Tyler.
“Rebecca?” I asked.
“Yes, is this Geri Sullivan?”
“Yes, sorry about that,” I said. “I thought I was talking to my dog.”
There was a moment of silence, then Rebecca spoke.
“Geri, I've got great news for you!”
“Really, what?”
“Mandy is behind bars where she belongs!” Her voice was full of triumph. “Thanks to you!”
“Mandy murdered David?”
“Yes! I convinced the police to question her. Apparently they went straight out and picked her up. It turns out they had DNA evidence that linked her to the crime. Something about a glove she dropped. Also her shoes matched the shoe print they found! Can you believe it?”
“Wow!” I said. It was hard to express my amazement.
“I can't tell you how grateful I am. You must come by first thing in the morning so I can give you your reward.”
“Reward?”
“Yes, I offered a $10,000 reward for information leading to the arrest of the murderer.”
“But don't you need the money for
Dancing with Dogs
?”
“Oh, that's not a problem,” she said. “I talked to Stewart. Naturally he was distracted, what with the news about Mandy. I think he had guessed about the affair, but who would think she was capable of murder?”
“Yes, it's hard to imagine.”
“I told him about your concerns about the money and he assured me they were ungrounded. He put the transfer through and we should get a confirmation tomorrow. David's investments are safe. I don't know where you got your information, but it wasn't accurate.”
“Well, that's great!” I said weakly. “Thanks for letting me know.”
“Oh, and I want to draw up the contract for you and Pepe to participate in
Dancing with Dogs
. Come over at 11
AM
tomorrow! Sherman will have the contract ready. You just need to sign it.”
“Good news?” Felix asked when I flipped the phone shut.
“Yes,” I said, still feeling dazzled. “Sullivan and Sullivan just solved their first case. And Pepe and I are going to be reality TV stars. I have to get home and tell Pepe!”
Chapter 42
In the gray light of the morning, I didn't feel as exuberant as I had the night before. It had been a weird night—the romantic dinner with Felix had been overshadowed by Rebecca's news. Felix left earlier than I would have liked. But he did promise to return the next afternoon to give Pepe a training session. I was still trying to find a way to tell him about my dog's unique talents.
I sat down on the sofa beside Pepe with my morning bowl of cereal.
“What if we were wrong?” I said to Pepe. “What if Mandy isn't the murderer?”
He was watching
Paraiso perdido
. I couldn't understand much of what was going on, but I could tell it was
muy dramático
. A close up of Conchita, her eyes wide with horror. Cut to Hector, gazing out a window with tears streaming down those gorgeous cheekbones. I felt a little flutter as I thought of Felix and the sculpted planes of his face. I indulged in a moment of fantasy, imagining my fingertips moving lightly over those cheekbones, down to his lips.
I awoke from this reverie slowly, opening my eyes just in time to see a ribbon of text running along the bottom of the television screen. It read S
USPECT IN
T
YLER
MURDER RELEASED ON BAIL
.
“Quick! Hand me the remote control!” I said to Pepe.
Pepe looked at me with horror. “Geri, you know I cannot do that!” he said.
Sometimes I forget he's a dog. “Of course you can't. What was I thinking?” I reached for the remote control, which was lying on the floor.
“No, Geri!” Pepe squeaked. “This is the scene when Hector learns the identity of his true father.”
“Sorry, Pepe,” I said, “but there's breaking news in the Tyler case.” I clicked over to the local news channel.
The commentator was in the middle of a sentence: “. . . released on a million dollar bail.” The picture on the screen showed a young woman being rushed out of the jail, a jacket thrown over her head. I recognized the man at her side, Sherman Foot, dapper and stolid in a navy blue suit.
How come he could represent her if he couldn't represent me? On her other side was a woman most people would not have noticed—a small, dark-haired woman in a nice black silk pantsuit. (I wondered if it had once belonged to Rebecca.) It was Rosa, her eyes dark with worry as she steered her daughter through the gauntlet of cameramen and reporters waving microphones.
“I find it hard to believe that they would release her,” I said.
“I find it hard to believe you would switch off
Paraiso perdido
.”
“Pepe, this is part of our investigation.”
“I thought our case was over,” Pepe said. “You told me we had earned a reward. What is left to do?”
“I'm still having trouble believing Mandy would kill David Tyler. It makes no sense.”
“Murder rarely makes sense,” said Pepe in a portentous voice.
“OK, you got me there. But usually there's a motive. What's her motive?”
“You wonder that, and I wonder how Hector reacted to the news that he and Conchita are sister and brother.”
“What?” I switched the channel back but it was too late. The credits were scrolling across a shot of Hector, his head in his hands.
“Yes, it is
muy triste.
They will not be able to consummate their love. Unless, of course, as I suspect, it is a lie told by Catalina, the evil twin sister of Conchita, who wants Hector for herself.”
“Well, that wouldn't do her much good—” I began, then realized it didn't matter. It was a soap opera, after all. Anything could happen that would make the story more interesting. Whereas the story we were in had its own internal logic. I just hadn't figured it out yet.
As we headed over to the Tyler residence to sign the contract for
Dancing with Dogs
and collect our reward, Pepe was elated. He bounced in the passenger seat, almost as if it he were on a trampoline. As I pulled into a parking place across the street from the Tyler mansion, Pepe's ears began to quiver.
“I can hear Siren Song! She is in danger!” he said.
“I can't hear anything. Are you sure?” The car windows were rolled up since it was raining.
“I am a dog. My ears can hear sounds you have never dreamed of. Open the door!”
As soon as I did, I heard what Pepe had heard—the sounds of yipping and howling.
Pepe was already dashing off across the street, like a tiny white lightning bolt.
“Pepe!” I called, but he didn't listen. By the time I had climbed out of the car, he was halfway up the stairs on the wide front porch. Then I heard another sound that chilled me to the marrow. It was the sound of a woman—Rebecca, I was sure—screaming.
It was my turn to sprint across the lawn as fast as I could. I pushed open the heavy front door and ran into the house, Pepe leading the way. We burst into the living room, fearing the worst.
To my surprise, I was greeted by an entirely different sight. Rebecca was dancing around the living room, waving her hands in the air, with her head back howling. She was dressed in what I thought were probably her training clothes—a pair of leggings and a long T-shirt with black, gold, and white stripes. Siren Song in a little gold tutu was dancing around her, turning in circles and alternately barking and yipping.
“What is it? What's wrong?” I asked.
“Nothing's wrong!” said Rebecca.
“I am so glad no harm has come to you, my darling,” Pepe said to Siren Song. He got on his hind feet and circled around her, like a moon revolving around a planet.
“Everything's wonderful!” Rebecca declared, gliding over to me. She grabbed me by the hands and pulled me into an awkward waltz. It was hard to maneuver around the furniture and the dancing dogs, but I tried my best to keep up.
“What's so wonderful?” I asked as we all twirled about.
“This!” said Rebecca, waving a piece of paper that she held in her hand. She fell down onto one of the white sofas in the room. “Stewart dropped it off. You just missed him.”
“What is it?”
“It's a confirmation of the wire transfer. Stewart sent the half a million dollars I need for
Dancing with Dogs
to the producers this morning!”
“What?”
“Yes, half a million dollars. The show will go on! We're going to begin filming the pilot in Hollywood next week. You'll need to do some serious training with Pepe to be ready in time.”
“We're going to Hollywood?” I asked. I sank down in the chair across from her.
“Yes,” said Rebecca. “Isn't it wonderful!”
“Are you sure the transfer went through?” I didn't trust Stewart.
“Oh yes, I placed a call to my partners in Hollywood. They confirmed the money is in their account. I've already got my travel agent making the arrangements.”
“For you and Siren Song?”
“You and Pepe as well. We'll charter a private plane so the dogs can fly in comfort. I'll give you all of the details. We leave next Thursday.”
“Ah, back to traveling in style,” said Pepe, who had finally wearied of turning in circles on his back legs and dropped to all four feet. His pink tongue hung out the side of his mouth.
“You've traveled in a private plane before?” I asked him.
“
Sí,
many times with Caprice.”
“Yes, as long as I can afford it, why not?” Rebecca thought I was talking to her.
“Do you know that Mandy's out on bail?” I asked.
“Yes, I know. Luis told me.”
“Luis? Mandy's brother?”
“Yes, he's here helping out.”
“Don't you think that's weird?” I asked.
“No, I don't. He's not involved. He had nothing to do with it. And I need help. I can't run this place by myself. Who would answer the phone?”
As if on cue, we could hear a phone ringing in the hallway and not long after that, Luis came in. He was dressed in dark slacks and a black shirt that emphasized his broad frame. His hair was slicked back and neatly combed. He didn't look like a gardener any more. Maybe a bodyguard.
“It's Channel 7, ma'am,” he said to Rebecca. “They want a statement from you.”
“Tell them I'll talk to them in an hour. And get Sherman! Tell him to hurry up. I need the contract and the check!”
Siren Song, intrigued by the interruption, stopped her dancing and dropped to her feet. Pepe promptly ran over to her and sniffed her butt.
A few minutes later, Sherman Foot strolled into the room. He was wearing the navy blue suit I had seen on TV, and he had a sheaf of papers in his hand.
He handed them to Rebecca, who placed them on the glass coffee table in front of her and sorted through them. I realized, with a quiver of horror, that Rebecca had already replaced the glass coffee table on which I had dropped the gun. Which might mean I was sitting on the very spot where David had been shot. I jumped up.
Rebecca didn't seem distressed by the environment. “Here's the contract, Geri,” she said, handing me several pages. “And your reward check is in this envelope. You need to sign this receipt.”
I took the pages over to the white baby grand piano and spread them out. The contract was seven pages long and full of legalese. It made my head swim. The receipt for the check was short and sweet. I signed that, after peeking in the envelope to be sure the check was real, and then handed it back to Sherman.
“I'll look over the contract and get back to you,” I said. I hoped that sounded professional.
Rebecca didn't seem to care. She was busy discussing the statement Stewart had drafted. “I wouldn't say ‘we trust the police are acting with due diligence,'” she said to him. “After all, wouldn't that preclude a civil suit if we later decide to sue them for negligence?”
“Not necessarily, but I can revise it, if you wish.” He was being even more obsequious than usual.
“Why didn't they hold her? That's what I want to know. It's ridiculous that she should be allowed to go free. I want to say something like that!”
“I'll continue to work on it, Mrs. Tyler,” Sherman said.
Rebecca turned to me. “I need to get dressed for the cameras.” She got up and headed out the door. “You're welcome to stay if you like. We can drink some champagne and make plans for our trip.”
“I think we'll be going,” I said.

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