Last But Not Leashed, page 8
My awful habit of holding everything inside warned me not to share too much, even with a friend. With my eyes lowered I murmured, “Luke hasn’t been very attentive lately. I know it’s silly on my part, but I feel ignored.”
“You saw him last when?”
“Christmas morning. He was still asleep when I left to join Gramps out on Long Island for Christmas dinner. Luke stayed here, celebrating with his family. By the time I got back, he’d left to meet up with his law school roommate. They’re both writing an extra research project.”
Mari rubbed her temples. “Relationships are a bitch. When they go wrong, they take your whole world along with them.”
That’s exactly right, I thought. I made the leap to share the worst. “Christmas Eve I sort of gave him an ultimatum. Commit to our relationship or walk.”
Her dark eyes filled with sympathy. “Sometimes ultimatums work. More often they don’t.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of,” I confessed.
That ultimatum meant two choices—staying together or breaking up. I just wasn’t sure which outcome scared me the most.
When it was time to send our quill patient home, the enthusiastic golden retriever greeted his owner with yips, wags, and a doggy smile. Yes, dogs sometimes imitate human grins. They curl their upper lip almost like a modified snarl and show their teeth. It’s funny and endearing at the same time.
“You had me worried, you goofball,” his owner said while she scratched his wiggling back.
Mari and I enjoyed the sheer delight of Gonzo’s joy for a moment before we got down to business.
“I’m afraid after the memory of this episode fades away, Gonzo will be curious again,” I began, “so don’t let him wander up where the porcupine dens are. We also need you to use your fingertips and check all around his neck and head and legs for quills that might have burrowed under the skin.” I showed her the easiest way with the tips of my fingers.
We watched as she repeated my gestures.
“Perfect. If you find one, call the office right away.”
The owner patted Gonzo’s head and looked first at Mari, then me. A little bit hesitantly she confessed. “I saw both of you at the community center, for the organizing classes, the night Sookie…died. Can I ask you something? I moved here from the city to get away from violence. Oak Falls is so picturesque. But I checked, and there’ve been other murders here. Is there some kind of weird curse in the Hudson Valley I don’t know about?”
Mari spoke up before I could muster an answer. “Having a murder at the community center is very unusual. Sookie’s death might end up being a domestic abuse case, so I don’t think you have anything to worry about.”
“Good. I love it here. Also, I was thinking of hiring her assistant, Elaine, to help get my house organized, and I wanted to make sure she wasn’t a killer or something.”
My technician whooped out a nervous laugh.
Gonzo gave a sharp bark indicating he was ready to leave.
I also plastered a grin on my face but said nothing. I knew Glenn Overmann was a wild card, impulsive, potentially violent, and possibly the person who killed his wife, either in a fit of rage or with cold calculation. But Sookie’s assistant, Elaine Armstet? I didn’t know enough about her to have any kind of opinion.
Maybe I should remedy that.
Chapter Fourteen
The hospital usually closed between five thirty and six p.m., but it was closer to seven by the time I returned to my apartment. Several clients came in with candy and other sweets to wish us Happy New Year. A rush of emails kept me at the computer longer than usual. Still no news from Luke, although I knew from experience there were areas of spotty reception on the long drive into town. After showering, I changed, then sat on the sofa wearing my new sweater, waiting for a text that didn’t come. The last update from Luke had arrived at three thirty. He said he might have to wait until rush hour was over to start the two-and-a-half-hour drive from New York City.
After that, only silence.
Both Mr. Pitt and Buddy kept looking at me, sensing my distress. Finally I thought, Screw it. I’m not going to sit around and wait for him to show up. Let him find me.
Changing my new clothes out for jeans and a red flannel shirt, I threw on a heavy coat and ventured out into the cold. A strong breeze blew, swirling a mist of old snow on the ground. After firing up the truck, I started into town heading for Judy’s Café, only to be stopped by the glow of the low fuel light. Luckily, the Circle K was close by.
After I started the pump and locked the nozzle, I dashed inside to pick up some Kleenex and a bag of dog treats. A teenaged boy, his scraggly blond hair hanging on his shoulders, pushed open the door just as I reached for it. We almost banged into each other. I noticed the tips of his hair were dyed bright pink.
“Sorry,” the fellow said and stepped back to let me in.
Then as I passed, his eyes startled—out of fear or recognition. He quickly looked down, before slipping out the door. Through the glass I saw him get into a beat-up black truck with a dented front fender. He didn’t look familiar to me. What was that odd reaction all about?
Dismissing the thought, I strolled to the back of the store and checked out the pet section. This Circle K was more like a mini supermarket, stocked with a supply of frozen foods and ice cream for impulse shoppers.
I resisted the potato chips and virtuously stuck to the dog treats and tissues. When I got to the counter, the cashier greeted me by name. The employee name tag pinned to her chest read Posey.
“Evening, Dr. Kate. Is that all tonight?” Her tight reddish-purple curls clung to her skull like a cap.
“Do I know you?” I asked, embarrassed that she might be a client I didn’t recognize.
“Not directly,” she said. “I know Mari. I’ve seen your picture on her Facebook page.”
“Well, that explains it.” My staff was constantly posting all kinds of things on social media. Deep-set hazel eyes eyed me up and down. Judging me in some way?
“So, how’s it going?” I asked, wondering how an older woman like her, probably in her early forties, ended up being a late-night employee at Circle K.
“Same old.” She rang up my purchases and asked me if I needed a bag.
“No, I’m good. I’ve got my backpack in the truck.”
Posey handed me the items and asked, “Are the treats for that pit bull you found? Mari told me he was awfully beat-up. Sometimes I really hate people.”
I silently agreed. “Good news is he’s recovering really well. We’re trying to find his owner now.”
She leaned on the countertop and pointed to a bulletin board mounted near the door. “Mari told me she’ll bring in the Found poster as soon as Cindy makes it up.”
“Good.” This cashier appeared to know a lot about our office. Could Posey be Mari’s Circle K source about Glenn Overmann’s alibi?
A quick look around confirmed we were alone, so I had nothing to lose by asking a few questions. “Tell me, Posey. Do you believe Sookie’s murderer is still loose?”
That elicited a sly smile followed by a flood of conjecture. “You know, it is disgraceful Chief Garcia hasn’t arrested that husband of hers.”
“Glenn?”
“Of course, Glenn. Do you know how many times the police were called out to their place? Plenty! Problem is no charges were ever filed. Either one or the other always withdrew their accusations.”
The thought occurred to me that the Circle K, with all glass windows in the front, sat at the intersection of the two main roads in town. Police get thirsty and hungry while on duty, and this Circle K was open 24/7. I noticed a romance novel, spine side up, open on the counter under the locked cigarette case. This woman must have stood behind the counter many a long night. Maybe a little banter or gossip between her and the customers made the shift go faster.
Posey just became much more interesting.
“So did Glenn or Sookie usually call the police?” I’d assumed there’d be some domestic violence history from the way Glenn behaved. The clerk immediately confirmed my suspicions.
“Both of them!” Posey licked her lips then continued. “They called so often that the cops felt it was a big waste of their time. Why one of them didn’t move out of the house I can’t say, except neither wanted to give the other the satisfaction.”
Bright headlights of a car flashed as it turned in and stopped next to a gas pump. Another customer. I might not have Posey all to myself for long. There was something else I desperately wanted to know.
I lowered my voice. “Is it true Glenn has an alibi for the night of the murder?”
The cashier leaned in and whispered, “That’s what I heard.”
The door flung open, letting in a cold blast of air. A man in a ski hat wearing a blue plaid muffler around his neck and across his mouth walked in. Paying us no attention, he strolled into the snack aisle.
Mimicking Posey now, I leaned in and asked, “Who told you Glenn had an alibi?”
“Wyatt. Glenn’s boyfriend.”
Glenn has a boyfriend? Holding my purchases close, I exited out to the parking lot, then stopped under the red neon OPEN sign. Who could have anticipated this twist in what was becoming a more and more complicated case? I’d entertained the possibility that Elaine and Glenn might have been involved at one point, but not this.
Police Chief Garcia must know all about the domestic violence accusations between Sookie and Glenn. Does he know about their extramarital activity too?
Standing on the sidewalk, I noticed Muffler Man used his shoulder to open the door, and with his back turned he headed toward his CRV. With the coast clear, I snuck back inside before the door completely closed. How could I miss the perfect opportunity to find out more about this toxic couple?
Posey looked up at me, a question in her eye. Noticing the sign behind her, I said, “I forgot to buy my lotto tickets.”
“Sure.” We stared at each other. “NY Lotto? Powerball? Mega Millions?”
“All of them,” I stammered.
“Quick picks?”
“Yep. I’m feeling lucky tonight. Two of each.” Although I rarely played games of chance, I figured it was a cheap price to pay for questioning Posey.
“Here you are.” She handed me the tickets after I paid.
“You know,” I began, “what you said about Glenn cheating on Sookie with that guy, Wyatt—?”
The cashier didn’t need prompting. “Wyatt Cressan? Well, Sookie was no angel either. I’ve seen her in town with local guys. She’s been in here bunches of times, usually late at night, all lovey-dovey with this older dude from the city. Gray hair. Sort of pudgy.”
“Hmm.” Raising my eyebrows, I didn’t have to feign interest.
“Drove a big silver Mercedes sedan, last time I saw them together. Expensive-looking gold watch on his wrist, too.”
Her powers of observation amazed me; then I realized how boring her job must be, stuck behind the counter all night. No wonder she kept a mental catalog of the people she saw. “Posey, you remember so many details about people,” I told her. “Are you an artist?”
She smiled widely, exposing a large chip on her front tooth. “No. I’ve got a bunch of jobs, but I’m trying to be a writer. See?” From under the counter, she pulled out an old- fashioned but still popular notebook. I’d used them myself in grade school. The black-and-white-speckled cover of the composition book appeared well worn, the wide-lined pages thickened from use.
“Are you writing about your experiences here at Circle K?”
“That’s what everyone around here thinks. But I’ll tell you a secret.” Her forehead wrinkled, eyes squinted with concentration. “I’m writing an Edwardian vampire romance/mystery. With aliens.” A knowing smile bathed her tired face. “Got to write what sells.”
I nodded, not knowing what to say.
Posey leaned in again, lowering her voice. “But I’m not counting on my book to make me rich. Knowledge is power.”
“You’re going back to school?”
That provoked a high-pitched laugh. “No way,” she said, still chuckling. “You see, if you know something you’re not supposed to know, that gives you power. Power you can turn into cash.”
The doorbell jingled as another customer entered the store.
I stuffed my lottery tickets into my coat pocket and said goodbye. Someone else pulled up as I made my way toward the truck. Cold air stung my face. What Posey said disturbed me. Power you can turn into cash? It sounded an awful lot like blackmail.
Backing out of the parking lot, I debated continuing to Judy’s Café. But if anyone else knew the dirt on Glenn and Sookie, it would be the owner and manager of the most popular coffee place in town.
By the time I reached the town of Oak Falls, most of the tourists were heading home or out to the many nearby restaurants and bars. There were several tables empty plus a few seats available at Judy’s counter. I chose the counter, sat down, then wondered how to bring up the delicate subject of Sookie and Glenn’s love lives over a bowl of soup. Before I got a chance to order, another woman sat down next to me, and nodded a hello.
Like so many people in town, she looked vaguely familiar. This presented a problem because I always remembered the animals I examined, but I didn’t always recognize their owners.
“Hi, Dr. Kate,” the middle-aged blond said. “I took your advice and added green beans to Midnight’s food, and she’s already lost two pounds.”
That brief statement made it easy. Midnight was an overweight setter mix I’d seen only a few weeks ago. A happy, energetic dog, she’d packed on some winter inactivity weight. In my mind I visualized her medical record. Midnight Heally.
“I’m so happy, Ms. Heally.”
“Please, call me Irene.”
Our brief conversation was interrupted by the appearance of the restaurant owner, Judy, visibly tired after her long day. “What can I get for you tonight, Dr. Kate?” Her elbows rested across the stone countertop.
“Bowl of veggie soup and a blueberry scone,” I answered.
“Irene?”
“Hot tea and a shortbread cookie. I’m waiting for my son to meet me. His truck is in the shop.” She fussed a little with her napkin after Judy disappeared into the kitchen.
I unbuttoned my coat and placed it on the other empty seat to the left of me. Irene kept smoothing her napkin with her fingers. Something preoccupied her. I took my phone out and checked my messages.
Nothing from Luke.
Frustrated, I decided to text him but was stopped by a question from Irene.
“Dr. Kate…” Irene hesitantly turned toward me. “I’m not sure how to ask this, but…you found Sookie’s body, correct?”
Whatever I thought Irene was going to ask me, this wasn’t it. “Yes,” I replied and put my phone in my pocket, not sure where our conversation was going.
She lowered her head and spoke into the napkin. “Do you think she suffered?”
That was a tough question. How could anyone really know?
“I heard Chief Garcia say in an interview that Sookie probably became unconscious after the first blow to the head.”
Irene’s eyes became misty. She sighed and said, “That’s a blessing. I’m so glad she didn’t suffer.”
Of course that’s not what the chief said, but I let it go.
The kitchen door swung open and Judy approached with my soup and Irene’s tea. Her eyes darted from one of us to the other, but she simply put down our orders and went back to the kitchen. Sometimes restaurants acted as confessionals or therapy sessions for folks. Judy had probably heard more than her share of life’s stories. I suppose servers are like bartenders, only with food.
The steamy soup smelled of carrots and a hint of ginger. After the tentative first sip, I blew on the next spoonful to cool it down. Irene did the same with her steaming tea.
“Did you know Sookie well?” I asked. It felt comradely, perched at the counter together, blowing on our hot liquids.
“We saw each other at yoga twice a week for over a year,” Irene said. “Usually after class we’d go to the juice bar in the gym and talk. I knew she and Glenn had issues, but I never thought he’d kill her.”
She spoke as if it were a fact.
Once again, I tried the soup. Much better. “Glenn hasn’t been charged with any crime,” I said between sips.
“Well, who else could it be? Not her rich boyfriend. And certainly not Wyatt—he’s too sweet.” Irene loosened her coat and appeared more than ready to continue our talk. “Although Wyatt did once joke that he tried to stab Sookie in the heart but couldn’t find it.”
From the frankness of her banter I guessed that she must have assumed I knew all about the couple’s lifestyle choices.
My scone magically appeared, as did Irene’s cookie. Still hungry, I broke off a piece and buttered it. “Irene, maybe you can answer this question. What did Sookie see in someone like Glenn?”
With half a shortbread cookie in her hand she answered, “He’s one of those guys you either hate or you love. He’s very emotional and opinionated about everything, super charming when he wants to be, and always about to hit it rich. It’s exciting to be with him. Did you know his eyes are greenish, and he has the thickest black eyelashes…”
That didn’t sound much like the Glenn I’d met. However, now that I thought about it, I never got that close to him. His back had been turned to us during our house call. He mistook Mari for the veterinarian, and we’d missed each other when he picked up Babykins. I’d read his outrageous emails and seen him in wedding photos. All I remembered was his strongly backlit profile.
Irene described him quite differently. Fondly.
