Hounds Abound (28 page)

When I take a position, it’s because I’ve reasoned it out first.

Kip had had the motive, means, and opportunity to kill Miles. He’d wanted to protect Bella—and possibly position himself to be in a romantic relationship with her. He was always around Save’Em, and he, like hundreds of other people, could have bought the knife anonymously from one of the kitchen supply stores.

Plus, he had been to Carlie’s veterinary clinic. It was still a bit problematic to figure out how he happened to be there when some parvo-infected dogs were being brought in, but he knew that Carlie and I were friends and could simply have been watching the place for an opportunity to take an animal that he could then drop at HotRescues in warning.

Since the person who’d claimed to be relinquishing the sick dog at my shelter was probably wearing a mask, that, too, could be anyone—including Kip.

He had already asked me—more than once—to stop investigating Miles’s death. He claimed to be the one who’d wanted to help Bella that way. But what if he had, instead, wanted to make sure I didn’t find any other viable suspects? Maybe he had become frightened and decided to allow Bella to take the blame after all.

We would see his reaction today.

“What are you thinking about?” Carlie demanded. We were at the gate of Save Them All Sanctuary. I had arranged to get here at the same time she was due to arrive with her camera folks.

One of the veterinary technicians from her clinic stood behind us, a hulking guy who carried a large box from ProsthaPetics.

“Just getting psyched for watching your show being filmed,” I said with a grin as the gate opened and Peggy appeared, beaming, the two shelter dachshund mascots at her feet.

“Yeah, and the other stuff you’ve set up has nothing to do with it.”

I merely batted my eyes a few times in an expression of innocence, which Carlie knew was feigned. She chuckled and waved for her troops to follow us.

I wasn’t about to tell her that my goal today was to, at last, solve Miles’s murder—if my thought processes had been on the right track.

I’d even dared to run some of my thoughts by Antonio in a phone call earlier, then met up with him briefly.

Now I took a quick look around outside. Not seeing what I was hoping to, I rejoined the group.

Bella met us right inside, along with Ignatz and Durwood. I knelt to pet the adorable and friendly senior dogs, admiring the new pack they had formed together.

Bella shut them into her office for now. Then we all strode under the arch and through the senior dog area, halting at the center of the area reserved for special-needs animals. Kip was there with some of the Save’Em volunteers and staff, Daya and Neddie among them. They formed an irregular circle around Soozle.

Nifty was there, too, receiving attention from other humans as he seemed to get along just great on his attached wheelchair. When we arrived, Bella requested that he be put into his kennel. Soozle was the dog of the moment.

I made myself forbear from staring at Kip. I didn’t want him to know in advance that I was gunning for him—so to speak.

Carlie looked around. “I gather that Dr. Drammon isn’t here yet,” she said to Bella, who shook her head in the negative.

“I told my staff to let me know when he arrives,” she said. “Other audience members, too. A few are here already touring the place.”

“Maybe Drammon chickened out.” Carlie looked at me. “He wasn’t thrilled about my invitation when I called him a few days ago. Not everyone likes to have their opinions ridiculed on national television.”

She had already told me how much fun she planned to have rubbing the euthanasia-loving vet’s nose in the scenario
she was going to be filming—helping a disabled dog walk once more on four legs.

“Come on, gang,” she continued. “Let’s get to work helping Soozle.”

Before she’d done more than removing the contraption of a plastic limb combined with metal tubing and vinyl straps from its large box, I saw two people enter through the door from the senior dog area. One strode in first, followed by the other in a volunteer shirt who immediately skirted around him and dashed up to Bella. She was kneeling beside Carlie, holding and examining the prosthetic device.

I again stayed in the background so I wouldn’t be filmed, but I heard the volunteer apologize to Bella. “I was going to tell you he was here, but he didn’t wait.”

“That’s okay,” Bella told the young girl as she stood to greet the newcomer.

I watched Kip’s reaction. He had moved to stand near me, and his stiff body and expressionless face spoke volumes. He despised Drammon, too—but not necessarily for the same reason that I did. The vet had apparently had a fledgling relationship with Bella that he’d ruined by his position on killing special-needs animals. Was Kip jealous of him anyway?

If Kip had in fact killed Miles, he’d have been better off framing Dr. Drammon than allowing suspicion to become an Atlas-like weight impacting Bella’s much smaller shoulders.

Dr. Victor Drammon wore a suit as funereal as the one he’d had on at Miles’s memorial service. He appeared sad as he looked down at Bella through his thick glasses. “We’re both entitled to our opinions, you know. I
understand yours. I really do. I hate this—disagreeing in public, making a spectacle of ourselves.”

Bella appeared sad, too, and upset. “Then why did you criticize Save’Em—and me—that way, Vic?”

I moved closer to listen, and so did Carlie. She also motioned for her camera guys to move in. She, too, had worn a suit to show her professionalism, but hers was an attractive deep rose. She’d taken off the coat, though, and replaced it with a white veterinary jacket. “Have you had a change of heart, Dr. Drammon? Why don’t you come over here and watch what I do? Feel free to help—or if I misunderstood, you can always comment on how I’m torturing this poor dog. We will be taping this for my show, of course.”

“I didn’t agree to be filmed.” His voice was tight.

“By coming here, you did. This is on the order of a news show, and by participating in an interview yourself you’ve made yourself a public figure. You won’t find suing me easy.” Carlie’s grin was snide, and I could tell her crew was lapping it up, filming her and the other vet from all angles. “Come on into the infirmary, gang.”

I watched Vic Drammon exchange another look with Bella, as if asking for her help. She seemed to hesitate, then shrugged and followed Carlie. Me, too.

Once inside the smaller room, Carlie stooped to put Soozle up on the metal table in the center. The same guy who’d been toting the box before had it in his arms, and at Carlie’s nod he extracted the prosthetic device from it.

“The fact that Soozle still has a stump of leg makes this a bit easier,” Carlie said to the camera. “There are ways of attaching devices to a pet’s bones, but this way we can just
strap it on and see how it works out. It’s less intrusive as well as less painful. If we can’t keep it on her adequately but the concept works for her, we can always do surgery to attach a permanent device later.” She looked at Vic Drammon, who now stood along the edge of the room across from me. “Isn’t that right, Dr. Drammon?”

Again the cameras panned in his direction. He nodded his head slightly. “This way is certainly preferable, if it works.”

“It works,” Carlie said. “Although we’ll keep an eye on Soozle, and if there are any problems we’ll come up with an alternative solution. Now, watch as I put it on.” She did so skillfully, fastening the straps. “This device has some hinges that help to absorb stress and make it easier to walk. It’s one of my favorites. But it might not wind up being Soozle’s. We’ll see.”

When she was done, she again lifted Soozle. She walked outside the infirmary room and back into the center of the special-needs area, putting the dog back down where staff, volunteers, and visitors could watch. “Okay, girl, give it a try.”

Soozle looked confused, which I was sure was picked up by the cameras. She sniffed the device on her rear leg, lifted her leg a bit, then put it down on the floor. Carlie took a treat from a bag she’d brought and waved it in front of the dog’s nose. That got Soozle’s attention, and Carlie gave the treat to her. She moved the next treat farther away. Soozle took a few hobbling steps forward to get it.

“Good girl!” Carlie hugged the dog gently, then lured her again. And again.

After a few minutes, Soozle seemed almost at ease with
her new prosthetic device—at least when it came to seeking treats.

I ached to work with her, too. Hug her to help ease her confusion and to encourage her amazingly brave efforts.

But this was Carlie’s show. And Bella’s.

I watched Kip watching them, too. He was smiling so proudly.

Dr. Drammon? His expression was unreadable. Skeptical? Unhappy? Or just the opposite? But its intensity drew some oddly irregular thoughts onto the surface of my mind.

Or maybe it was more than that … like the way my prior musings were now etching ideas in different directions than they’d been skewing before.

“You and your staff will need to work with her, of course,” Carlie told Bella and gave some general, then more specific, instructions while being filmed. She watched as Bella similarly lured, then treated, the pup, who seemed to know she was the center of attention—and that she had been given a new leash on life. Or at least a new prosthetic.

As Bella continued training herself, her staff, and Soozle, Carlie approached Dr. Drammon, waving one of her camera folks to join her.

“So what do you think, Dr. Drammon? Am I torturing Soozle?”

“It appears that she might acclimate herself to her new device,” he said formally.

“And she’s not suffering? Not in immediate need of being euthanized?”

“Not immediate,” he said. “It remains to be seen how she’ll do long-term.”

“Do you see anything to indicate that she won’t now be able to live out her full life span as a result of her infirmity?”

“It remains to be seen,” he repeated. His breathing seemed a little more rapid, but otherwise his professional demeanor didn’t change.

“Then doesn’t this indicate that your prior interviews about Save Them All Sanctuary, and your blanket statements on how all injured dogs should immediately be euthanized to keep them from suffering—might they have been incorrect?” Carlie stood there with her arms crossed. I stayed off camera and silent, but I wanted to applaud her.

“It depends on the animal,” he said. “That was always my position. But a place like this is likely to see a lot more that might be worse off being kept alive than being put to death humanely. That’s all.”

“That’s all?” This came from Bella. She’d left her staff to work with Soozle and joined Carlie in her inquisition.

“Yes. Of course.” The look he shot at Bella seemed pained and then he once more faced Carlie. “You invited me here to see this. I came. I don’t need to be attacked on camera for voicing my opinion. I still believe that dogs should not be kept alive while suffering.”

“And what about if they have a chance at survival? A new life, like Soozle? Or love for a senior dog or cat?” Carlie kept pressing him.

“Whatever,” he practically shouted. More quietly, he repeated, “Whatever,” then turned slowly and with dignity.

Once he was off camera, it was my turn.

I didn’t suggest that Kip take a walk with me now, as I’d
originally planned, so I could casually ask some very important, if disguised, questions.

Instead, leaving Kip to congratulate Bella, Carlie, and Soozle, I followed Dr. Victor Drammon.

He made it easy to confront him alone, since he immediately headed out of the area for special-needs pets toward the front of the building. I caught up with him in the large first-floor room comprising part of the area where senior dogs were kenneled. A lot of them started barking. I just smiled.

“This place holds such mixed memories for me,” I told him over the din. “Were you aware that I found Miles’s body?”

He looked down at me through his glasses. His expression looked both bleak and guarded. “Yes, I’d heard that.”

“In the parking lot. Maybe you even parked in the spot where he died.” I didn’t distinguish between the two lots. Because of the way Drammon had been shown in, I figured he had parked in the front one—and I’d found Miles in the back.

“I don’t … That’s a gruesome thing to say.”

I wished he’d finished his first sentence. What he’d said was too inconclusive—although it sounded as if it had started out as a denial.

Even so, it wouldn’t have been much use as evidence. The news had undoubtedly described where Miles’s body was found.

“You were friends with him.” I didn’t make it a question. “Both of you were against Save’Em, but for different reasons. Did that add to your friendship?”

“I suppose you could say that.”

“Then you must have known he was visiting Bella here a lot.”

“I knew he had come here to see her, yes.”

“But the night he died—before that, he’d confronted her, given her a hard time, yet that night he hadn’t even let her know he was there. She heard him—or the killer—but she didn’t see either of them. I wonder why.”

He just shrugged and started walking again.

“Carlie’s putting together such a wonderful show,” I said, catching up with him. I’d decided to aim my comments in a different direction. “Featuring Save Them All Sanctuary—it’ll attract a huge number of viewers. But the way she interviewed you … Maybe she should have let you speak on the show without immediate contradiction. Not that I agree with what you said, especially in your earlier interviews, but you had the right to say it.”

“I’m surprised to hear that from you, Lauren.” He stopped and looked down at me again, this time both startled and pleased. And maybe off guard.

“Of course, speaking is a far cry from killing,” I said. “Euthanizing animals that don’t need to be killed—well, I, of course, disagree with that. That’s why I run a no-kill shelter.”

“But your animals are healthier than the ones here.”

“Right. And they’re theoretically more adoptable. But I know you’re quite comfortable with killing, aren’t you?”

He sighed, rubbing what was left of his salt-and-pepper hair in apparent exasperation. “I’m a veterinarian. I do what needs to be done.”