Lucky Dog

Lucky Dog

A Mac Faraday Mystery Short

By

Lauren Carr

Copyright Protected

This is going to be your day, you lucky dog.

Lance Collins admired the clear blue sky overhead before pulling his black Ferrari into the last empty parking space. He took it being directly across from the Spencer Inn Sports Club staff entrance as a sign. Rarely was such a prime slot vacant at ten o’clock in the morning.

Things are finally going my way.

Fighting to keep down the wicked laugh bubbling its way to his lips, Lance grabbed his athletic bag and tennis racquet from the passenger seat and stepped out of his car.

The feeling of good fortune took a dip when the hair on the back of his neck rose to attention. He turned around to find the source of suspicion in the form of a German shepherd eying him from the front seat of a red Dodge Viper in the carte blanche of parking spaces—that reserved for the Spencer Inn’s owner, Mac Faraday.

“What are you looking at?”

The shepherd narrowed his eyes into a glare.

“Mutt.”

The dog’s snout twitched. His lips rose into a snarl.

“My younger brother used to have a dog just like you.” Lance waved the racquet in his hand. “He bit me. You know what I did to him?”

The shepherd bore his teeth.

“I backed over him with my car … on purpose. When they found him flattened in the road, I cried along with everyone else. No one ever knew.” Lance’s voice dropped to a harsh whisper. “Take that as a warning, Gnarly. If I ever catch you in my sights, I won’t be tapping the brakes to slow down—I’ll be hitting the gas pedal.”

Gnarly jumped up in his seat to lunge at him with snarling barks. Lance seized the opportunity to club him over the head with the tennis racquet. To the attacker’s surprise, the dog dodged the blow before leaping back to clamp down on the racquet with his jaws.

“Give me that, you son of a bitch.”

Keeping his grip on the handle, Lance pulled back in an attempt to retrieve his racquet while Gnarly shook his head like a predator snapping the neck of it’s prey. The dog’s teeth tore through the strings in the head of racquet.

When it became apparent that he was losing the tug-of-war, Lance resorted to pounding his adversary on top of the head with his fist. “You damn son of it bitch. I’m going to kill you.”

Gnarly dropped the racquet to respond with barks that sounded like his own canine version of curses and threats. Lance was in mid-lunge for the dog’s throat when he was pulled back by the shoulder.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Mac Faraday yanked him back to step into the midst of the fight. The sight of his dog being attacked prompted him to take on an assertive nature that the tennis instructor had never seen coming from the former homicide detective turned inn owner—thanks to an unexpected inheritance from his birth mother.

Wish I was an illegitimate bastard to a rich, world-famous mystery writer.

“Your dog attacked me.” Lance held up his shredded tennis racquet. “Look at what he did. This is a three-hundred-dollar racquet. How do you expect me to give lessons to guests with equipment in this condition?”

“Maybe next time you’ll think about that before trying to hit my dog with it.”

Lance swore he could see the German shepherd with his tongue hanging out of his mouth laughing at him behind Mac’s back. Reminding himself that Mac had the power to fire him—and probably would—even if he was a favorite among the female patrons, Lance’s jaw clinched. “With all due respect, Mac, your dog came after me.”

“And grabbed your racquet out of your hand to chew it to bits?”

“Exactly.”

“All this without leaving the car?” Mac crossed his arms across his chest. “He jumped out of the car, swiped your racquet out of your hand, and then jumped back into the car to shred it?”

“You shouldn’t be leaving such a vicious dog alone in your car like that,” Lance warned. “Someone could get hurt, sue you, and end up owning this inn.”

“Not if they’re smart enough to stay away from my car,” Mac replied. “Why do you think I drive Gnarly around with me? His pleasant odor and charming personality?”

Judging by the low noise he uttered from deep in his throat before hanging his head, Gnarly picked up on his master’s sarcasm.

Out of the corner of his eye, Lance was aware of Police Chief David O’Callaghan, his arms also crossed across his chest, watching the exchange.

It was only a matter of time. Where Mac Faraday goes, Chief O’Callaghan is never far behind.

“You don’t like dogs, do you, Lance?” the police chief asked.

Giving up on pleading his case against Gnarly, Lance turned to answer. “What? Do you intend to charge me with some hate crime for defending myself against a dog that tried to bite me?”

David observed the tattered racquet. “No, I believe Gnarly came out on top of that fight. I’m talking about Sparky. Your wife’s maid told us that Kim kicked you out after you tried to poison her Yorkshire terrier.”

Lance waited for the rest of the news.
Where’s the rest of it? I know you have more to tell me. So say it. I’ve been rehearsing for this moment. So give it to me and let’s have the curtain go up on my performance.

When it didn’t come, he asked, “You came out here to question me about Sparky? That was a month ago. Don’t tell me that bitch has decided to press charges against me for trying to kill her yip-yap.”

“Is that why your marriage only lasted sixty-three days?” Mac asked. “Sparky never did like you. You made no secret about you not liking him. So you decided to get rid of him.”

David said, “The vet told us that someone had fed him chocolate. That’s why his kidneys were shutting down.”

“No one has any proof that I was the one who gave it to him,” Lance said.

“Sometimes you don’t need proof to know what someone is capable or,” Mac said, “That’s why Kim kicked you out. She
knew
.”

David chuckled, “What did you do? Give her a choice. You or the dog. She chose the dog and gave you the boot?”

“I don’t have to take this.” With a show of bravado, Lance turned away from them to toss his racquet through the open window of his car.

Mac followed him. “Talk about ironic. You’re back to living in your little condo looking down on Kim Weathersby’s lakefront mansion where her little yorkie is sleeping on what used to be your side of the bed.”

His patience at its limit, Lance whirled around. “What is this about?”

“Kim was found dead last night.”

Lance could see the police chief studying him when he broke the news. That’s why he was there. David had to see his reaction.

Having prepared for days, Lance gave it to him. The delight he felt when he launched into his performance was similar to that of a child waking up on Christmas morning after having waited weeks for it.

Lance’s mouth dropped open. He let out a gasp. His eyes were wide when he clutched his chest while collapsing against the door of his sports car. With a sob in his voice, he asked, “Are you serious? … No … it can’t be. Kim … She was my wife. How? How did it happen?”

Yes, don’t forget to ask how it happened. They’ll notice if you don’t ask for all the details.

“The maid found her last night,” David told him. “Kim was hosting a dinner party. She had poured a martini and taken it upstairs to get ready. When the guests started arriving and she still hadn’t come down, the maid went up to check on her and found her collapsed on the floor in her dressing room.”

“Collapsed from what?” he asked.

“We’re still waiting for the autopsy results,” David said.

“Can’t be drugs,” Lance said. “Kim didn’t do drugs. She drank. She had to have her martini at four o’clock every day but she wasn’t a lush.”

He noticed Mac studying him even more closely than the police chief. Of course he would. He had been a homicide detective for over twenty years in Washington, D.C. Police Chief David O’Callaghan was young. He was sharp, but still young. That was why he always called Mac Faraday in when it came to a murder on Deep Creek Lake.

If anyone was going to nail him, it was going to be Mac Faraday. “You were very well aware of Kim’s habits, weren’t you?”

“I loved Kim.”
Sound offended by the suggestion.

“She dumped you for a dog.” The corner of Mac’s lips curled. “As a matter of fact, her lawyer tells us that she had an appointment for changing her will on Monday morning. She was disinheriting you to make Sparky her beneficiary again.”

“I was here in the lounge with a date last night,” he said.

David pounced on the slip. “I didn’t ask you for an alibi. We didn’t even say it was murder.”

Mac was cocking his head at the tennis instructor.

Behind his master, Gnarly was also cocking his head in his direction. The dog had sat back down in the passenger seat of the sport car and rested his front paws on top of the door. He seemed to be enjoying the show.

Is that dog smirking at me?

Lance sucked in a deep breath and regrouped. “Why are you here talking to me then if you’re not asking for an alibi? Kim was only twenty-eight years old. She was healthy. Why else would she drop dead if someone hadn’t killed her?”

David and Mac exchanged glances before the police chief said, “That’s our thought exactly. And you’re right up there at the top of the list, Lance. Whirlwind romance and marriage that lasted only a couple of days past two months. Prenup that’s tighter than a bank vault. She kicked you out with only the clothes on your back and that Ferrari that you got for a wedding present.”

“I was here last night. I had a date. You can call her if you need to check out my alibi.”

Mac said, “But you were at your wife’s house yesterday afternoon before she collapsed. The caterer had let you in. What were you doing there?”

“Same thing I’ve been doing there ever since Kim kicked me out,” Lance replied. “Begging her to take me back. I told you. I loved her. Yesterday, I took her two dozen long stem red roses, just like I had every day for the last ten days since she kicked me out. I’m sure you found them there along with all of the other roses that I’ve been bringing her.”

David was nodding his head. “The caterer told us that you had sent her out of the room to get a vase to put them in.”

Roll your eyes. Let them see how silly this whole line of questioning is. If you act like its silly, they’ll feel the same and back off—especially when they have no proof.
“Excuse me for wanting her to come home and find them on display in the middle of the dining room table.”

Mac replied, “And while the caterer was getting the vase, you were alone in the dining room where the bar with the vodka and drink mix is. Are you sure you didn’t slip anything into the vodka while you were alone?”

Of course, Mac would notice that.

“I wasn’t completely alone,” Lance smirked. “Sparky was there, too.” He showed them the bite marks on his ankle. “That rat bit me.” He cocked his head at them. “And I kicked him. Do you want to arrest me for that, too?”

“As you mentioned,” David said, “you and Kim were married for two months. You’re aware of her schedule by now. Friday afternoons, she goes to the salon to get her hair done. Why did you take roses to her when you knew she wouldn’t be there?”

He shot back with the answer that he had thought out very well. “Because I knew she wouldn’t let me in. But if she hadn’t have died, if I had a chance, I know that she would have taken me back eventually.” He sniffed while willing the tears to come to his eyes. “I know she loved me.” He covered his face with his hands when the tears didn’t come.

The interview ended with Police Chief O’Callaghan asking for the phone number of his date from the night before. After making a show of being confused with grief, Lance brought up the phone number on his cell phone and read it off to him.

“Call me if you hear anything,” he said to David in a pleading voice.

There was a flicker of sympathy in the police chief’s eyes when he assured him that he would.

Even if they do know I did it, they have nothing. Without any definite proof, they have to have some doubt. Of course, the timing is suspicious, but that’s only circumstantial. Things happen at the strangest times. People drop dead for no good reason. That’s what happened to Kim’s father. He was only in his thirties when he dropped dead. Why can’t his daughter do the same? So it happened in the middle of a messy break up? Stranger things have happened.

Lance was aware of Gnarly watching him with accusation in his dark brown eyes while Mac Faraday backed out of his reserved spot and drove away.

Dogs have a sixth sense about people. Kim had told him that the night she tossed him out. Sparky had never warmed to him. He didn’t think it was that important to win over a rat dog, until Kim started suspecting that maybe there was something wrong with him that made Sparky not like him.

Who ever heard of a dog turning it’s owner against her husband? It was self-defense. Didn’t she see that I had to try to kill her mutt to save our marriage?