Oodles of Poodles (27 page)

“We’ll do it,” Brooke assured me.

I heard a low murmur of voices from inside. “I think they’re starting to arrive.”

“Antonio and I will go sit at the monitors after we talk to Pete,” Brooke said. “Good luck.”

“Thanks. I’ll join you soon.”

At the moment, though, I had people to greet. Zoey and I headed inside toward the welcome area.

I was surprised to find so many people from
Sheba’s Story
there. I’d thought it would just be Winna with her assistants. But Grant Jefferly was there, too, in his American Humane vest, and so was Cowan in his standard all-black outfit, and even Millie Roland—rather, her real counterpart, Lyanne Shroeder, wearing a lot of makeup but not as much as when she was about to be filmed. They were all crammed into the relatively small welcome area. So were Mick Paramus and R. G. Nina was passing around a sign-in sheet. That might not be necessary since I knew these people. On the other hand, it would be good to have an official record in case we needed to verify later who’d attended.

“Good to see you all,” I said. “Go ahead and sign in, and then I’ll take you into the kennel area.” I paused, slowly sucked in my breath, then asked, “Have any of you been here before?”

I looked directly at Winna but could see Jerry out of the corner of my eye. He was shaking his head. So were others.

Maybe they hadn’t. Maybe I was all wet in suspecting Jerry on the basis of that one small gesture.

On the other hand, how many other people wrapped an arm around their head like that?

I did a quick, obvious scan of all of them so it wouldn’t appear strange for my gaze to include Jerry. “You’re in for a treat,” I said, “one that Hans Marford experienced since he’d wanted to see what a well-run animal shelter looked like.”

He had come with Niall and Dante, neither of whom was here today. Of those two, I still kept Niall on my suspect list but didn’t believe he’d been our intruder. Nor did I envision the poised writer and assistant producer making that odd, distinctive gesture. Even so, I’d try to keep an open mind.

Could I be certain that the person who had broken in the other night was in this group?

Maybe not, but my bet was on Jerry.

“This should be fun,” Elena said. “You know how we love animals.” She looked toward Jerry and Winna for their confirmation, and both nodded. “We’ve heard such great things about HotRescues.” The young handler smiled.

Maybe she was laying it on too thick, but I smiled back. “All of it is true.” I saw Grant hand the clipboard back to Nina, who gave a half-salute to show that everyone had signed in. “And now you can see for yourself.” I gestured toward the hall to the kennel area. “You all head that way and I’ll meet you outside. I want to leave Zoey with Nina.”

And to get Nina’s initial impression. But, as she shepherded Zoey into the area behind the welcome desk, she just gave a tiny shrug. She had no insight for me, at least not yet.

I’d already talked things over with Antonio and Brooke. They’d be watching the security camera in real time, as would the EverySecurity operative, wherever he was.

I would watch in real time, too, to see Jerry’s reaction as he went into the shelter area.

And we were going to do something I absolutely never did.

Time to go see how it worked out.

“They’re really cute,” Winna said as she peered into the first kennels on the left in our initial shelter area. A couple of the dogs were barking. Others were sitting behind their glass doors as if regally awaiting the notice of their subjects so they would be given the petting and other attention they deserved. “I see what you mean about a great shelter. Everything is clean, and they all look so well cared for.”

“That’s for sure,” said Mamie Spelling, who had come to greet the
Sheba’s Story
folks along with the other volunteers I’d spoken with earlier. She sounded so proud it made me grin—both in affirmation of what she said, and because I remained glad that this former hoarder now helped so well around here.

I remained behind the visitors, observing Jerry but also trying to keep close watch on them all.

They all gushed over our highly deserving residents, but none gave any indication of having been here before.

I admit that I’d really hoped it would be that simple. But I’m no fool. It had been a long shot.

And that long shot appeared to be missing its mark.

On impulse, I maneuvered around some of them to stand between Bev and Mamie. “I’d like to introduce you
to some of the junior handlers on the set,” I told them. “This is Elena, and this is Jerry. And the senior handler there, that is Winna. This is the first time any of them have come to HotRescues.”

Okay, I was being repetitious, but I was still watching for any change in attitude, anything at all to indicate that Jerry was hiding something.

“Are you interested in becoming volunteers here?” Mamie asked.

Good question. One that could possibly elicit some kind of helpful reaction.

“Maybe,” Elena said. “I’m really impressed with it all.” She waved her hand dramatically around in a smooth, model’s gesture, as if attempting to encompass everything she saw.

“Me, too,” Jerry said. “I can see now why some of the shelter scenes are being shot the way they are. I know Mr. DeFrancisco would want us to make a good impression on our film audience, and keeping things looking like HotRescues should do that.”

Sounded as if they were trying to outdo one another so word would get back to Dante. It never hurt to have a wealthy producer on one’s side.

But that wasn’t helping me.

I herded the crowd through the rows of kennels. Pete came out of the ground floor of the center building. He looked at me quizzically.

Brooke must have just spoken with him. I nodded.

This group continued forward, at least one person pausing in front of each kennel to talk to the dog or two inside.

That left the dogs in the kennels we passed alone once more.

But not exactly.

I turned slightly and nodded to Pete. He, in turn, did as Brooke had undoubtedly told him.

Starting with the kennel nearest the entrance to the building, he first tested its door, which stayed shut. Then he started opening the kennel gates. Not all of them, but only those of dogs we already knew got along together.

I’d already checked the gates nearest the rear of the shelter, around the storage building, and felt confident that everything was secure.

Everything except the states of mind, I hoped, of our visitors—or at least one of them.

In moments, the place looked as it had the night our intruder had been there, with dogs running all over the place.

“Hey!” Grant Jefferly called out in alarm. Obviously he wouldn’t be able to verify that no animals around here were being endangered—not that he had to.

“What’s happening?” Winna was the next one to apparently freak out. Her subordinate handlers looked dazed, then upset. “Cowan,” she shouted, “how do we get these dogs under control?”

Pete and the rest of our kennel staff and volunteers were suddenly in the midst of things, snapping leashes on the eight or nine dogs that were dashing around.

Mick Paramus and R. G. looked shocked, but they did attempt to grab some of the dogs’ collars to catch them, too.

“Sit,” Cowan said to Shazam, the Doberman who’d run up to him. Of course well-behaved Shazam obeyed.

Not so all the other dogs, though. But once they were leashed, they were all okay.

I’d been worried about all the animals, but I also trusted
my staff and volunteers, who’d been let in on what was about to happen and given instructions on how to help.

I’d been watching the dogs carefully anyway, in case we had any real problems, which we didn’t.

But neither did we have anyone make the gesture we’d seen on the security footage the night of the break-in.

Not even Jerry Amalon.

Chapter 28

I wasn’t happy.

Never mind that the killers in the murders I’d previously solved didn’t just appear on computer monitors waving at me or making strange gestures. I’d wanted an easy answer this time.

Not that I’d have had foolproof evidence of Jerry’s guilt in killing Hans, even if he’d stared at the running dogs and gotten discombobulated enough again to make that odd motion. But at least it would have given the authorities reason to interrogate him for the break-in here and ask why he’d chosen HotRescues—like, if he had a grudge against me for asking if he was guilty of Hans’s murder. Or because I’d asked a lot of people that…and got them thinking more about who else could be guilty.

For now, I calmly helped our staff round up the dogs and return them to their kennels.

“Everything all right around here, Lauren?” asked Grant. I’d just returned Hope to her enclosure and took an extra minute to stay near the poor, sweet thing who watched me soulfully, as if she accepted without question this additional oddity in her life.

“You mean, are all the animals okay?” I responded. “Yes, they’re fine. We just had a bit of a miscommunication.” That was my overt excuse.

“You know,” he said pensively, “I’ve heard so many good things about HotRescues’ reputation as one of the best pet shelters around. I’d never have thought a mistake like that could be made.”

I looked into his narrowed blue eyes. I had the uncomfortable feeling that he was attempting to read my thoughts.

“Not usually,” I said with a rueful shrug. I wanted to make it clear that my facility was every bit as good as what he’d heard. Even better. Instead, I continued, “We’re all just a little flustered over that break-in. I’ll be talking to our people about taking extra care. You can be sure of that.”

“But I noticed…”

“What?” I prompted.

“I thought you’d be a lot angrier over something like those dogs getting loose. It was almost as if you expected—wanted—it.”

I’d be upset if I believed that Grant had been our intruder and had analyzed me so correctly. Right or wrong, I believed I could trust the American Humane representative. Maybe
that was because of how much he clearly cared about animal welfare.

Even so…“Of course not,” I said, although my tone remained light. I wasn’t admitting anything.

Neither did I show any anger at what amounted to an accusation from him. Not when he was right.

“Well…” He smiled, revealing his white teeth. “Keep me informed.” He turned and followed the group of
Sheba’s Story
folks being shown into the newer area of our shelter on a continuation of their tour.

I didn’t ask what he meant, but I sort of admired Grant for his intelligent grasp of what I hadn’t said. I also didn’t like it.

What if he was more involved than I’d thought?

Folding my arms, I followed Grant.

One group of our visitors had already turned the corner into the kennel area within the newest part of HotRescues. Grant caught up and followed Mamie into the building where our smaller dogs and puppies were housed downstairs, with offices above. Cowan was with them. Mamie was so short that I could barely see her, despite Cowan’s not being much taller.

Bev and our other volunteers remained with the rest of the visitors. I stayed far enough back that I couldn’t hear what she was saying, but everyone seemed to be separating into smaller groups to look in the nearest kennels.

Unsurprisingly, each group was comprised of the people who worked most closely together. Mick and R. G. stayed close to Bev, who showed off the enclosures back here, which were of a different design but equal quality to the
ones in the front. The gates here were chain link instead of glass.

All the animal handlers except Winna were as youthful as Sally and Ricki, who acted as their tour guides. This group stayed in the courtyard. Sally pointed out our picnic area, where people interested in adopting could visit and bond with the dog they wanted to get to know better.

Jerry looked interested, as if he were seeing this all for the first time. That could in fact be true for this part of HotRescues, since he’d been seen only in our older area.

But I wished I could hear what he was saying. What they all were saying.

I knew I’d be told if any of the
Sheba’s Story
people happened to mention anything looking familiar. Our volunteers had been primed to listen for that.

But I wanted more.

Watching from this distance didn’t do me any good. I decided to go inside with Brooke and Antonio. Our security cameras didn’t have sound, but they could zoom in on an area.

Would that help me learn something useful? Or was today just a total waste?

No, it couldn’t be. If nothing else, we had a lot of new visitors to HotRescues who were involved with a movie where rescued dogs were stars. That could only help publicize us and our inhabitants who needed new homes.

Although word could also get out that our staff was careless, and I was indifferent, and—

Damn! I had to stop this!

I turned abruptly and started walking back toward our
older shelter area—and nearly ran into Pete, who was hurrying toward me. We both stopped without colliding.