Last But Not Leashed, page 19
“I’d be happy to find a guy who sweeps the house,” I joked.
“Do you think Posey modeled her characters from real people? Gee, I hope I’m not in it as the girl buying dog food and wine at midnight.” She glanced over at me, her dark eyes shining. “Yes, it really happened and, no, I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Well, if you were buying dog food late at night at the Circle K, then I was the one always buying ice cream.”
Mari opened the laptop and said, “I think reading fiction takes you away from your own life and inserts you into someone else’s for a while. Why not have a gorgeous guy groveling at your feet? Or do outrageous things and never get caught?”
A broken tree branch stuck out into the lane. I dodged it and continued on. “I suppose you’ve got a point there. Pretending to be a princess or a pirate is fun. Sometimes you need to step out of the real world into a make-believe universe that only you control.”
“Yeah, it’s fun. As long as you don’t get the two confused,” Mari said.
Following the GPS with its haughty British accent, I drove the truck slowly up the many hills behind town. I downshifted as the inclines became steeper, although plenty of gravel and sand kept the road from being slippery.
“Where are we going?” I asked Mari.
“Not sure. It’s a new client,” she answered, once again looking at the computer screen. “Owner is Chloe Ramboulle. She’s got a French bulldog with some kind of orthopedic problem—let’s see…limping on the front leg.”
“All right.” The road made a sharp turn. We kept climbing. The amount of snow in the woods had increased to almost three feet with accumulation building the higher we went. Tall pines lined the shoulders, effectively blocking most of the patchy sunshine. Shadows fell across the graveled surface of the road, darkening the spaces between the trees. It felt terribly gloomy.
We’d almost crested the top when the GPS told us to make a left turn in five hundred feet. Mari called out when she spotted the driveway, almost hidden from view.
“This looks pretty new,” she commented as we followed a paved, wide road that led to a tall iron gate. The property had hi-tech security fencing stretching deep into the woods. A camera light mounted on the empty gatehouse suddenly glowed green. I pushed the buzzer and waited.
“Can I help you?” a voice asked.
“Yes. I’m Dr. Kate Turner from the Oak Falls Animal Hospital, with my veterinary assistant, Mari. We’ve got a one o’clock appointment with Chloe Ramboulle and her French bulldog.” I was hoping my pronunciation of her name sounded authentic enough. My frightening tenth-grade French teacher had drilled the importance of a correct accent into our class.
An electronic crackling noise emanated from the call box. After another burst of static, the voice came back. “Proceed to the main house. Someone will meet you.”
I waited for the gate to open. Dealing with a housekeeper or caretaker wasn’t unusual. Quite a few wealthy people made their homes in the Hudson Valley. Several clients of mine had elaborate security systems, especially the part-time residents. Mari had a friend who acted as a caretaker for five clients who spent most of their time in New York City or California. Making sure her customers’ pipes didn’t freeze was a major concern.
Dense stands of pine and white aspen lined the road, but the farther up we went, the more the forest had been thinned out. A last steep hill had the F-150 struggling, but once we reached the top, everything leveled off, revealing a vast hidden meadow with a magnificent view of the mountains and reservoir.
“Wow.” Mari looked off to the right and left, while I kept my eyes on the road. An innovative home came into view, constructed of steel and glass. Very modern in design, some of its huge windows soared two stories high. The house was an architectural gem, hidden away from view.
Mari put it succinctly: “Big bucks. Really big bucks.”
I concurred.
Someone waved from the front of the house. I flicked my headlights on and off and headed toward whoever was greeting us.
When we drew closer, I saw two people, one of whom looked familiar but not in a good way. Dressed all in black including a black overcoat was a clone of one of the “thugs” at the community center lecture.
Running toward us, her designer coat billowing behind, was a beautiful young woman clutching a fawn-colored French bulldog. Her red-gold curls fanned out in long tendrils behind her. Tears glistened on flawless cheeks.
She reminded me of the beautiful servant in Posey’s book.
We barely came to a stop before she walked up to the driver’s side window and tapped on the glass.
I opened the door, narrowly missing hitting her.
“Are you Dr. Kate?” Her voice was warm, like melted honey, with a faint accent.
“Yes, I am. And this is my assistant, Mari.”
Her luminous hazel eyes locked on mine. “I’m afraid my sweet baby is in horrible pain.” The French bulldog wiggled in her arms, before turning to lick her owner’s face.
“Why don’t we go inside and I’ll examine…”
“Baby. He’s only ten months old, and I can’t stand it to think he’s hurting.” Tears welled up again as she placed her other hand over her heart.
A bit dramatic, I thought, though her emotions appeared genuine. The story Cindy told us of weekenders who needed bodyguards came to mind. Could this be them?
Meanwhile, Mari walked around the front of the truck, carrying our equipment. I lifted my doctor’s bag from behind the driver’s seat and asked, “Should we follow you?”
After a moment of confusion, our client abruptly turned and walked toward the house. All the while, the man in black stared. Chloe made no attempt to introduce him to us.
Saying the home represented “big bucks” had been an understatement. The inside resembled a magazine ad, clean and modern, with many unique built-ins that probably housed electronic equipment. We marched past a sleek steel fireplace, flames burning through glimmering stones. I counted at least four leather sofas before noticing a professional-style bar in a corner. The views from the many windows were all extraordinary.
“I thought you could do your exam in here,” she said, motioning to a door off a hallway. It turned out to be a laundry room with a granite slab work island. I’d never seen a laundry room with three washing machines and four separate dryers. The only colors in the space were black and white and stainless steel.
A run of custom metal countertops added to the industrial look of the space.
Mari pried Baby from Chloe’s arms and secured him on the tabletop. A quick exam revealed all vitals normal and no immediate problems, but his symptoms were orthopedic. There was only one thing to do.
“Let’s watch him walk,” I told my assistant.
Mari lifted the dog off the countertop, gently bent over, and placed the Frenchie on all four feet. For a moment he stared up at us, perhaps wondering why he was on the ground.
“Can you call him over to you?” I asked the owner. “But please don’t pick him up yet.”
Chloe nodded and said, “Baby. Come here, chéri.”
The dog’s comical pointed ears flickered, and he tried to scamper across the floor to his owner. After a few steps he lifted his left front paw up, hesitated, and attempted to walk again.
Chloe immediately ran over and scooped him up into her arms.
Mari and I looked at each other.
“Let’s put Baby down again,” Mari asked. “Dr. Kate needs to see him walk around for a while.”
“Oh, mais oui.” Chloe gently placed the dog down, then backed a few feet away. Tears had already begun to well in her lovely eyes.
The dog didn’t move.
“Do you have any treats he likes?” There was nothing like bribing a dog to get it to do what you want.
Her hands dug into the pockets of her dress. An outstretched palm revealed a clump of freeze-dried treats. The Frenchie sniffed the air and immediately became more animated. In fact, he paced back and forth in front of Chloe and even briefly stood up on his hind legs. Only a slight limp or hesitancy remained.
Mari lifted him back up onto the table. I spent several minutes palpating both front legs from the shoulder joint through the elbow and down to his toes. It was when I explored the puppy’s front pads and nails that I found an anomaly. A small black pebble had wedged itself between two of his pads, tucked under a thick fold of tissue. Normally, a dog could bite or lick something like that out, but I suspected a combination of the bulldog’s anatomy and the stone’s location made that impossible.
Using my fingers, I gently rolled it up and out. The skin where the pebble had rested looked a bit irritated. I showed it to the owner, explaining that she needed to check the site twice a day. My opinion at this point was it didn’t need any medication. Baby’s walking should improve and the area return to normal color in a few days.
“Please call me if you have any concerns, or if it begins to look worse.” I handed Chloe my card. “You can take a photo of his pad and send it to us, too.”
“Thank you so much,” she said, smothering her dog with kisses. “I looked at Baby’s foot, Bruno and Aldo looked, but we didn’t find anything.”
Bruno and Aldo? I wondered if those were the names of the two men I saw at the community center. As if on cue, someone knocked at the door.
“Entrez,” Chloe told them.
The man who poked his head in was not the man on guard at the front door.
“Everything okay?” His eyes darted back and forth, from Mari to me and back again.
“Aldo,” Chloe said, “this is Dr. Kate, the veterinarian I called. She found a rock in Baby’s foot.”
His disbelieving eyes swiveled to stare into mine. “I didn’t see nothin’ yesterday.”
“It took a while for me to notice it,” I answered, showing him the dark pebble. “Baby couldn’t reach it himself.”
Aldo stared at me suspiciously, as if I’d inserted the stone into the dog’s pad.
“I’m so happy,” Chloe cried out, twirling around the room with Baby hugged to her chest. “Merci beaucoup.”
Aldo relaxed a bit then said, “She’s French,” as if that explained everything.
I stripped off my exam gloves and waited for Mari to open our medical waste bag. “Do you have somewhere I can wash my hands?”
“Sure, Doc,” the man said. “Follow me.”
While following him down the hallway I took note of the powerful shoulders, short thick neck under his golf shirt, and slightly bowlegged walk. Someone who lifted weights, possibly used steroid—a lot of bulk without much refinement.
We passed an office, its door slightly ajar, and several other rooms before he stopped. “Here’s the powder room.” Out of habit, it seemed, he took a quick look up and down the hallway.
The powder room was easily twice the size of my full bathroom at home. It even had a separate mirrored area with a chair. After washing my hands and splashing some water on my face, I dried myself with a luxuriously soft towel and opened the door.
Aldo stood outside, his arms clasped in front of him.
“Thank you for waiting,” I politely fibbed. “I’m not sure I could find my way back.”
“No problem.” He looked up and down the hallway again then turned and headed back to the laundry room.
He opened the door to raucous laughter. Mari had her phone out and was showing Chloe something on the screen.
“We’re looking at the video I took of the puppies,” my assistant explained.
“Aldo, come look,” Chloe said.
The last thing I expected a bodyguard to do was to look at a puppy video, but that’s exactly what he did. Maybe checking to make sure Chloe wasn’t lying?
“Are those rottweilers?” Aldo asked.
“Absolutely. AKC-registered. Both their parents are also Schutzhund certified.”
“Those guard dogs?” he questioned.
“That’s right. Trained to protect and defend on command. My male weighs a little over one hundred pounds.”
Aldo stared at the screen and said, “Very impressive. But I’ll take a shotgun over a dog any day.”
An awkward silence sprang up between us. Chloe broke the tension by changing the subject.
“Dr. Kate delivered all these puppies on Christmas Eve. She saved the last pup that was stuck.” Chloe clapped her hands enthusiastically. “I could talk about animals all day. Please—can you stay for a quick café? Or tea?”
Before I could answer, Mari checked her watch then said to me, “Maybe fifteen minutes? We’re a bit ahead of schedule.”
“A coffee sounds wonderful,” I answered back.
Under the watchful eye of Aldo, Mari and I followed Chloe, who led us past more living rooms into the kitchen. A party of twenty or more could easily be served in what resembled another commercial space. Our hostess warmly greeted an older woman standing by the stove stirring a simmering pot. “Madame Merchad, can you please brew some café for us? This is Dr. Kate and her associate, Mari. They found a stone in Baby’s foot and now he’s cured! See!”
The woman laughed as the dog came running over to her. “Mon petit chou! Everything is good now?”
Chloe indicated we should sit at a large round table in the dining alcove with a view of the mountains. As we waited for the coffee, Chloe began asking questions about what it was like being a veterinarian in the United States.
“When I was a girl in France,” she said, “I wanted to be a veterinarian or an actress.” She smiled and I noticed a slightly indented side tooth, unlike the perfect American smiles in so many actors. The tiny imperfection made her endearing.
Mari interrupted and asked, “How did you end up here?”
“My husband, Arthur, works in New York City, but we love to spend time in the country. We both ski and hike.” She stared out the window with a smile. “I’m also starting work on a theater production in the city.”
We were interrupted by the delivery of a pot of coffee, steamed milk, and some small chocolate biscuits. “I take my coffee the French way. Café au lait.” Chloe filled her cup halfway with coffee, then topped it with the steamed milk.
Baby, the French bulldog, began to scratch at his owner’s leg and yipped a few times. Chloe leaned over to pet the dog, her long Renaissance hair cascading to the floor.
Had Posey used Chloe’s appearance as an inspiration for her own heroine? The more I studied the pale skin and classical profile of the actress, the more I believed she had.
“Is he telling you something?” Mari asked.
“Definitely.” Chloe smiled. “Aldo,” she called out. The bodyguard, who’d been leaning against the doorway, came over. “Can you please take Baby out for his walk? And make sure there isn’t any gravel.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said. “Is the leash by the back door?”
“I think so.” Chloe watched as Aldo picked up the young dog. “Make sure you go potty,” she ordered the dog, now resting in Aldo’s arms.
Her eyes watched him leave. As soon as the bodyguard left her demeanor changed. “Alors. Now we are alone. Finally. I never get to invite friends to the house. I feel like a prisoner.”
“Why is that?” Mari asked.
She craned her neck to make sure Aldo was out of sight. “Because of the theft of those stupid coins. Security thinks one of the people I hired took my husband’s ledger with the secret numbers in it.”
That sounded confusing—like a child’s story. “What do you mean, Chloe?”
“The key to the invisible wallets floating on the Internet. He wrote the numbers of his Bitcoins in a green leather ledger. Don’t ask me to explain it because I can’t. Sometimes Arthur carried it with him. Sometimes he’d stick it in a drawer.”
“Who do they think stole the ledger?”
She thought about my question. “The only strangers here were Sookie and her crew. The day she finished, we had to put everything back in the closet, and her helper started bringing in all the shoes and clothes, and my husband’s office was unlocked… And—the security people couldn’t prove anything because the alarm cameras on this side of the house were being repositioned and reset. I told my husband not to trust that security company. Some of them looked at me strangely—as though I were meat.”
Her explanation sounded jumbled, but I understood.
“They questioned everyone. They tried to prove Sookie’s crew might be untrustworthy but…well, that’s when everything became merde.”
Which was a more elegant way of saying everything went to shit.
I wondered how much Chloe knew about Sookie’s death. My unspoken question was quickly answered.
“Now Sookie has been murdered. And her helper committed suicide, and I think it’s all my fault.” Our French friend’s lower lip trembled.
“Do you remember the helper’s name?” I asked.
“It was a flower. Daisy, or Lily or…”
Mari interrupted. “Posey?”
“Yes.” Chloe pointed her finger at my assistant.
The sound of scampering dog feet interrupted our conversation. Baby had returned from his walk.
And so had Aldo.
Chloe and Baby personally escorted us to our truck and enthusiastically waved goodbye until we were out of sight.
As I drove down the road, my thoughts went back to the Bitcoin theft. Could Sookie and Posey have had anything to do with it? I didn’t know much about virtual money, but I knew someone who did.
“By the way, while you were washing up, Chloe told me she hates staying home with the bodyguards.” Mari opened the laptop but didn’t enter anything. “She’s got another week before rehearsals start. That’s why she attended the community center lecture. She’s been bored out of her mind.”
I thought for a moment. “So, her bodyguards were at the community center to protect her, not to find Lucky?”
