Louisa, however, nodded her head enthusiastically. “I love to read, especially books with a lot of suspense in the plot. Which brings me back to the current issue. How come I haven’t read anything about the person accused of Babs’s murder? Is there a ‘news blackout,’ or whatever it’s called?”

  Nora and I exchanged a brief glance, and I gave her a small nod.

  “A journalist we know has been accused of killing her, so it’s a possibility the paper has been keeping a lid on it. One of their own, you know. In my opinion, though, the evidence is flimsy, at best. I think it’s only because the two of them had been at a press conference together earlier in the day and Babs had made a rather snarky comment about Shelby’s physique.”

  Louisa snorted in disgust, shaking her head and causing her diamond earrings to swing like miniature chandeliers caught in a typhoon. “Typical Babs, I’d say. It wasn’t a secret her tongue could be as sharp as a chef’s favorite knife.”

  “Absolutely. You’d think that would be enough to get her fired, or at least warned. I’d stopped watching the local news report because of her.” I thought about Matt and his apparently rocky relationship with Babs. Why had she been given leeway at the station? Maybe she had something on him as well. Leaning forward, I looked from Louisa to Nora, my expression and tone earnest. “And now that I think about it, I wonder if Babs had some dirt on Matt Robb as well. What else could explain his continued willingness to work with her?”

  “That’s certainly a possibility,” Nora said. “If we’re keeping track of possible perps, we need to add Matt’s name to the list.”

  Waving down a passing waiter, she gestured toward Louisa’s empty wineglass as she snagged one for herself. I’d had enough, though, and gladly accepted a tall glass of iced tea, a slice of yellow lemon clinging precariously to its rim.

  “Absolutely.” I fished the lemon out of my tea and dropped it onto a small cocktail napkin. “And don’t forget the person she was arguing with on the phone. If we could only get the station’s phone records, we’d know who it was.”

  Louisa’s eyebrows shot up as she stared at me, but Nora only hooted derisively.

  “As if, Miss Detective. And how do you suggest we do that?”

  I shrugged, sipping carefully from my full glass. “It was just an idea.”

  “I might know someone.” Louisa ran one finger around the edge of her wineglass. “She used to work for the phone company.”

  “Thanks, Louisa, but I don’t think an ex-employee would be able to help.”

  Louisa smiled widely and lifted her glass in a mock toast. “Did I mention my friend was the CEO? I’m pretty sure she still has some pull there, considering her family is part owner of the company.” Taking a sip of her refilled glass, she dropped one eyelid in a teasing wink.

  Nora and I were speechless. Here was a ready-made opportunity to figure out who Babs’s killer might be. Leaning over, I threw one arm around Louisa’s plump shoulders and squeezed as Nora lifted her wineglass in a toast.

  Louisa left before the program began, promising to call when she’d gotten the log of calls from her friend.

  “And don’t you worry,” she smiled at both of us. “It’ll be a piece of cake.”

  I always hated it when folks said that. It usually meant exactly the opposite. Still, I smiled back and assured her we’d be waiting to hear from her.

  After the excitement of the Marcus and Phoebe show, the rest of the evening seemed to take a downward turn after Louisa’s departure. Aside from the various speeches from presenters and thanks from the recipients, it was quickly becoming a bore. I could hardly wait for Nora to get her portion over and done with, and judging by the thin lines of her mouth, Nora felt the same.

  “You’re going to be fine.” I gave her shoulder a gentle pat. “In the big scheme of things, who’ll really care if you trip or stammer or freeze?”

  “Oh, that’s comforting.” Her tone was pure Nora, though, dry as the Saharan desert. She’d be all right.

  Nora’s short speech and presentation to the Pet Walker of the Year was greeted with loud applause, although I was fairly certain the catcalls were aimed at her outfit and not the beaming recipient of the award. He was a short, rotund man whose equally round and dimpled face reminded me of a kewpie doll. Next to him, Nora looked like a tropical bird.

  After she’d swayed her way from the dais to our table, all but kissing her hands to an admiring crowd, I leaned over.

  “Let’s get out of here.” I motioned to my wristwatch, a slim Omega I’d inherited from my mother. “It’s still early enough that we can call Shelby and tell her the great news. I’m assuming you got Marcus’s keys to the van, right?”

  Nora lifted one hand to her forehead, eyes closed as she shook her head. I sighed, louder than I’d intended.

  “Well, don’t blame me, Sis. You could’ve gotten them.”

  “I’m sorry. I wasn’t blaming you. I was only thinking about Brent. Should we call him for a ride?”

  Nora’s eyes popped open as wide as they could go. “Not on your life, girlfriend. I’d rather walk.”

  * * * *

  The Portland Pooch Park sat just south of Nora’s luxury apartment building, its perimeters defined by a well-manicured boxwood hedge.

  There were wooden benches placed around the inside of the hedge for the convenience of the local dog owners, and it was on one of these that Roger and I were currently seated, to-go cups of steaming Peet’s coffee in our hands. The only thing missing, in my opinion, was a maple bacon donut from Voodoo Doughnuts, one of my all-time favorite vices.

  Herc had taken one look at Roger’s golden retrievers and had given a short happy bark, his tail wagging madly in an invitation to play before he shot off across the grass. With a glance at their owner as if to say, “This guy’s got too much energy,” they trotted off in decorous tandem after the black-and-white streak that was my dog.

  “Looks like they’re having a good time.” Roger took a sip of coffee and turned to smile at me.

  I’d never been this close to him before, and now I saw he had a web of fine wrinkles around his dark blue eyes. Smile wrinkles, I decided, or maybe laugh lines. I definitely liked the look.

  “And Herc is certainly getting his exercise.” I took a sip of coffee, noting that it wasn’t as mellow as my favorite blend. In the world of coffee appreciation, though, I’d give it a big two thumbs-up. It really was difficult to find a bad cup of coffee here in Portland.

  We both watched as my rescue dog—although it was still a tossup about who had rescued whom—continued to run in circles around the retrievers, barking with joyous abandon whenever they showed signs of play.

  Herc had a good life, filled with play dates with Aggie, lots of food, and all the belly rubs he wanted. Finding him on that rainy night last year was the best thing that had come of a very scary time.

  “Speaking of exercise,” the lines around Roger’s eyes crinkled even more, “how about a turn around the park? Since I retired from my dentistry practice, I find myself getting antsy if I don’t keep busy.”

  “And I probably read too much, trying to make up for lost time when I had to read for work, not pleasure.” I stood, shyly taking the hand he extended. “I had no idea there was such a difference between the two.”

  He didn’t let go of my hand, so I left it there, conscious of Nora’s apartment building looming behind us. Luckily, her widows were on the other side of the building, overlooking the Willamette River . . . but that wouldn’t stop her from spying on us.

  We’d begun strolling along the perimeter, the three dogs falling in behind us, when I heard a familiar voice.

  “Hey, Miss F.! Is that your new boyfriend?”

  Groaning inwardly, I turned to see Aggie, her stubby tail wagging in delight, her very unwelcome owner in tow.

  I kept my gaze averted from Roger’s face, not wanting to see his expression. My own face was hot and probably as red as the geraniums growing in the park’s planters, and if I could have crawled under a rock, I would have in a heartbeat. Slipping my hand from Roger’s, I turned to face Brent.

  “Brent. What brings you here?”

  Today of all days, I silently added as I waited for my grinning ex-student to finish humiliating me.

  “Oh, you know.” He waved around the park in an expansive gesture. “Aggie likes this place. Don’t cha, girl?” He leaned over and gave Aggie’s ears a quick scratch. “And I like it too.” His smile widened as he looked from me to Roger and back. I could have happily taped his mouth shut. “Besides, Mrs. G. said you’d be here.”

  Of course she did, bless her little heart. Not. She and I would be having a little chat about this, the sooner the better.

  Straightening my shoulders, I turned to face Roger. “I need to speak with Brent privately. Why don’t you keep going, and I’ll catch up.”

  “Is everything all right?” Roger flicked a concerned glance at Brent before looking down at me, and warmth spread up from my neck, adding to the heat in my cheeks.

  I nodded, wanting him to go before Brent said anything else embarrassing. Knowing the boy as well as I did, it would be a matter of moments. As usual, I was right.

  “But, Miss F., I only came here because Mrs. G. told me you’d be here with your—”

  I hurriedly cut him off, grabbing his arm and all but dragging him over to an empty bench, Aggie trotting after the two of us. Pushing him onto the seat, I stood there with arms crossed and a stern expression on my face. “Well, out with it, young man. What else did Mrs. Goldstein tell you?”

  Brent looked up, his expression as innocent as a newborn pup’s. “You mean besides him being your boyfriend?”

  I managed to bat down his hand as he began to point across the park to where Roger stood with Herc and the golden retrievers.

  “Yes, Brent. Besides that little nugget.” I got the last words out through clenched teeth, already scripting my talk with Nora.

  He wrinkled his forehead, as if trying to call forth a long-buried memory instead of something Nora had told him less than an hour before. How the boy had managed to learn anything in school and retain it was beyond me. Of course, I’d seen him learn complex plays on the football field and then execute them flawlessly the following week, so perhaps it was a matter of selective learning.

  At the moment, though, I was impatiently waiting for the other half of my message from Nora. I restrained myself from shaking the information out of him. I didn’t need to further scramble what brains he had up in that great big noggin of his.

  Suddenly, he sat up straighter, snapping his fingers and causing Aggie to let out an excited bark. “I’ve got it, Miss F. I was supposed to tell you to bring your boyfriend back to the apartment for coffee.”

  He looked so pleased with himself that I didn’t have the heart to lose my temper with him over the “boyfriend” reference. I needed to set the record straight, however.

  “Brent,” I began firmly, “Dr. Smithson isn’t my boyfriend. And it’s hard for me to think Mrs. Goldstein sent you here to give me a message she could have texted to me quite easily.”

  He grinned, his mouth bracketed in deep smile lines. Bless the boy. I smiled back reluctantly. He lived in his own happy little world.

  He nodded emphatically. “Actually, I was in the way, so she sent me instead of calling you. She said it was killing two birds with one stone.” A small pucker appeared between his brows. “I got kinda scared she was really gonna throw a rock or something, Miss F. She was getting pretty hot under the collar.” He winced slightly. “I never seen her so mad before, Miss F.”

  “Really.” I hadn’t expected that. “Do you know what the problem was?”

  “Yup. It was Mr. Avery, all right. He called her cell phone, and she told him to stick his phone where the sun didn’t shine.” He reached over and scooped up Aggie, cuddling her close to his chest. “I guess she didn’t like it when he didn’t let her know some other old woman—oops, Miss F., I didn’t mean you—was taking care of him.”

  “Hold on a minute.” I shook my head as if dislodging Brent’s very disjointed news. He’d made absolutely no sense. “What woman was taking care of Mr. Avery, and what made him call Mrs. Goldstein and tell her about it?”

  Brent’s large shoulders rose and fell in a nonchalant shrug. “No idea. Guess you’ve gotta ask her yourself when you bring your boyf—”

  “Not one more word, young man.”

  The sound of footsteps made me look around. Roger, hands in his pants pockets and all three dogs at his heels, stood there, one eyebrow lifted and a faintly amused expression in his eyes. I had a feeling he’d heard that last exchange. Choosing to pretend he hadn’t, I smiled at him.

  “If you’re not too coffee’d out, Nora has invited us over to her place.” I motioned to the tall high-rise behind the park. “She lives across the street, and she’s invited the dogs as well.”

  “I didn’t hear nothing about that.” Brent shut up when I gave his extra-large foot a subtle but well-aimed kick.

  “Then I accept for the three of us.” Roger leaned over and clipped a leash on each of the retrievers’ collars. “Lead the way.”

  Chapter 7

  Brent, Aggie cradled in his arms, charged ahead of us. I chanced a quick glance at Roger and saw he was smiling. Good. He hadn’t been offended by Brent’s commentary. Someone needed to take that boy under her wing for a lesson in social niceties, though. Maybe after this entire Babs fiasco was settled, I’d be able to find the time.

  In the meantime, I’d found myself in another situation, albeit a pleasant one. Stepping out of the elevator ahead of Roger and the dogs, I saw the front door to Nora’s apartment was standing ajar. Clearly we were expected, or maybe Brent had been in such a hurry to report to Nora that he’d left it open. My money, as scarce as it was, was on the latter. Turning to give Roger an encouraging smile, I led the way into the living room. Brent, as usual, made a beeline for the kitchen, an enthusiastic Aggie right on his heels.

  Nora was seated on one end of her overstuffed sofa, bare feet curled up and tucked under a pillow. Her cell phone was pressed to one ear and a decidedly unhappy expression filled her eyes. Various sounds coming from the kitchen could only mean one thing. Brent was feeding his constantly hungry self and probably giving Aggie a treat as well. That boy could eat around the clock and still be famished.

  Catching Nora’s attention, I mouthed “Marcus?”

  She nodded, rolling her eyes in response. Not an auspicious time for a visit. I turned to usher Roger back into the hallway.

  “Hey, where’re you guys going? I thought you wanted Mrs. G. to meet your boyfriend.”

  I turned back to see Brent standing in the kitchen’s entrance, a donut in each hand and a tell-tale smear of red on his chin. Aggie was performing acrobatic leaps near his feet, trying to get at the treats. I was tempted to walk over and help him stuff the entire box into his blabby mouth.

  “We can come back later, after Mrs. Goldstein’s handled that.” I nodded toward Nora. “And you’d probably better come with us.” I noted his suddenly crestfallen expression. “You can bring the donuts, for goodness sake.”

  My best friend had another idea, though. With one bedazzled fingernail, Nora disconnected the call and tossed the phone on the sofa.

  “There. All done.” Uncurling herself from the sofa, she stood and marched over to where we stood, just inside the open door. “Well, come in, come in. I don’t want to have a conversation in the hall for the rest of my nosy neighbors to hear.” She glanced over her shoulder at Brent. “And take that mess back into the kitchen, boy. All I need is a houseful of dogs tackling you and getting donut innards all over my carpet.”

  Without another word, Brent vanished from sight. Nora gave me a shove toward the sofa, and I obliged, tripping over an excited Herc and Aggie reunion as I did. Roger, a retriever glued to each of his legs, paused to offer a hand to Nora.

  “I’m Roger Smithson.” His smile was relaxed, and he seemed to be at ease. “Thanks for having us over.”

  My face heated at the word “us.” Of course, he might have been referring to his dogs, who were now cautiously advancing into to the room, both of them keeping a wary eye on the other two canines.

  Still, I smiled at the possibility.

  Nora, bless her little prying heart, hadn’t missed a thing, and she darted a look from my warm face to Roger’s smiling one, an eyebrow slightly raised. Between her and Brent, I wanted to crawl under the sofa for a few decades.

  “So, moving on. Gwen, I talked with Shelby this morning. She said she’d tried to call you, but you must’ve been otherwise engaged.”

  She gave the last few words more emphasis than needed. I refused to react, instead giving her a cool nod as I settled down on the sofa.

  “Did she say what she wanted?”

  Nora’s face took on a surprised expression. “Actually, she didn’t. I was too focused on letting her know we’d made a gain last night.” She shot a quick glance at Roger, head tilted in question.

  I flapped one hand at her. “Go on. He’s a good listener.” And a good looker, I added silently, managing to keep my expression neutral. “I’m assuming you told her about Louisa? And sit down, for goodness sake.”

  Nora nodded, switching her attention back to me as she plopped down beside me. “I did. She seems to think it’ll be enough to clear her name, although I reminded her not to get her hopes up.”

  “That wasn’t very nice,” I protested. “Shelby’s not a killer, and we both know it. If anything, this will prove Babs had issues with quite a few people. The incident with Shelby was Babs being her typical ‘better than thou’ self.”

  Roger, seated in the armchair across from us, leaned forward, his face alight with interest.

  “We’re speaking of Babs Prescott, right?” He looked at me, a twinkle in his eyes. “This would be the one with the big teeth, if I’m recalling that correctly.”

 

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