Puzzles, Puggles and Murder (Pet Shop Cozy Mysteries Book 9) Read online

  “What?”

  “The mobile they sent it from was on a Wi-Fi network. They were at the coffee shop down the street here.”

  “Better Latte Than Never?”

  “Yup, that’s the one.”

  “Huh. So if the dog-napper not only nabbed Muffy from in town, but then sent the email from somewhere in town…”

  “Then there’s a good chance they live somewhere around here,” Sarah finishes my thought.

  “I’m going to go check it out.” I grab my phone and keys and head for the door.

  “Good idea.” Dennis comes around the counter and follows me.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Coming with you.” To my blank stare, he says, “Hey, I did all the work so far. I should get to see some action.”

  “There’s no action, Dennis. Seriously, what is it that you think I do?”

  “Oh, just bring him along,” Sarah waves a hand at me.

  “Will you be okay here by yourself?”

  She rolls her eyes at me. “Yes, Will, I’ll be okay. I’ll do my very best not to accept any candy from strangers.”

  I grab the box of cupcakes from the counter. “I’m taking these.” I point at her and head out the door, Dennis behind me.

  CHAPTER 11

  * * *

  “Welcome to Better Latte Than… oh, hi Will!” Hammond Dobes says brightly from behind the counter at the coffee shop.

  “Hi, Ham. Shouldn’t you be at school?” Ham Dobes and I have something of a storied history. In addition to once being a murder suspect and, on another occasion, extorting me out of three hundred bucks, the kid has worked at one time or another at almost every establishment in Seaview Rock that’s not called the Pet Shop Stop. He finally saved up enough and decided to start college last year.

  “Oh, I’m commuting,” he tells me. “It’s cheaper that way. I’m still putting in some shifts over the weekends. Anyway, what I can get for you?”

  “Actually, I’m here for information.”

  “I should have known.” The kid flashes a dopey grin. “I don’t think you’ve ever bought coffee from me.”

  “Have you been here all morning?” I ask him.

  “Yeah, since we opened.”

  “I need you to think, Ham. There was a guy that came in this morning, around nine-thirty or so. He sent an email from here.”

  Ham smiles uncertainly and looks from me to Dennis and back again. “I’d love to help you out, Will, but the morning is our busiest time. Dozens of people came and went. What does he look like?”

  “I… don’t know,” I tell him. “In fact, I can’t even be sure it’s a guy. Or that’s it even one person.”

  Ham just stares at me for a moment. Beside me, Dennis sighs and interjects.

  “This place has cameras,” he says, pointing to the one over our heads pointed at the cash register. “Does it have any outside?”

  “Yeah, actually. There’s one over the door, pointed outward.”

  “Great. Can we see the tape?” Dennis asks.

  “I… I don’t know if I’m allowed to do that.”

  “Twenty bucks says you can,” Dennis counters.

  Ham raises an eyebrow. “Okay, but you’ll have to be quick. My manager will be here in half an hour.”

  “Great. Will?” Dennis gestures towards Ham.

  “Will what?” I ask him.

  “Pay the man.”

  “Me? You’re the one that offered him money!”

  Dennis shrugs. “It’s not my case.”

  I shake my head and pull out my wallet. “Dennis, you and I are going to sit down later and have a long talk about what it is you think I do.” I slide two tens across the counter to Ham. “Here, take your dirty money and show us where you keep your tapes.”

  He leads us to a tiny back office, barely big enough for the three of us to stand comfortably, and shows us a small black-and-white monitor in a corner. “Here it is. You can only go back twelve hours; after that, it’ll automatically erase and start over.”

  “Thanks Ham. We only need to go back six.”

  Ham leaves us in the back room and goes back to his barista duties as Dennis rewinds the footage, dozens of customers walking backwards in and out of the shop at quadruple speed.

  “The email is time-stamped at nine thirty-four a.m.,” he murmurs. “So if we switch to one of the interior cameras, we should see someone on their phone…” He stops the tape and plays it at normal speed. Both of us lean forward, practically touching heads as we watch.

  “There,” I point. “That guy.” On the screen, we can see a man with a ponytail in a black hooded sweatshirt tapping away at a phone. Unfortunately, the tape is too grainy for me to make out any definitive facial features.

  “Okay, let’s switch to the outside camera and see where Mr. Ponytail goes.” About a minute later, the guy leaves the coffee shop and gets into a white van parked just outside at the curb.

  “Pause it there. Can you make out that license plate?”

  Dennis shakes his head. “No, I can’t tell what it says.”

  “Can you, like, zoom in or something? Enhance it?”

  Dennis glances over at me. “You and I are going to sit down later and have a long talk about what it is you think I do.” He shakes his head. “No, I can’t zoom in if the camera itself doesn’t zoom, and I can’t enhance anything higher than the quality of the camera that took the footage—which is crap, by the way.”

  “Agreed.” I run my hands through my hair while I think. “Okay, so we know it’s a guy with a ponytail and a white van—”

  “Right, could he be a bigger cliché?”

  “That’s not what I mean. It’s a lead. Though not much of one…” I snap my fingers as a light bulb goes on in my head. “I have an idea. Call that breeder back. Ask her if she can reply to his email and tell him that she’s interested. As soon as he replies, have her send it to you. Then you can track the IP address again. If it comes from somewhere in town, maybe we can get there quick enough… and now we know a little about what he looks like.”

  “That’s a pretty good idea, actually.”

  “Don’t say ‘actually.’ That’s insulting,” I tell him as my cell phone rings. “Hey, Chief.”

  “Will, I just spoke with Franco, the other delivery guy,” Patty says. “His story corroborates Zimmerman’s, and they’re both consistent with what Sarah told us. Everything was sealed; nothing was tampered with.”

  “No,” I tell her, “that can’t be. One of them must be lying. Maybe they’re working together—”

  “Will, I know you disagree, but you have to admit that all the signs point back to the caterers themselves.”

  “I don’t believe that.”

  “I know you don’t.” She sighs. “That’s why I’m pulling you off of this. You’re too close; it’s going to affect your judgment.”

  “Patty, please don’t. You know I can help—”

  “You already have. I’ll have the clerk cut you a check for your troubles. Thanks.” With that, she hangs up.

  CHAPTER 12

  * * *

  “I hate to say it,” Sarah tells me, “but maybe Patty’s right. You’re too close to all this.”

  I shake my head. “I just don’t think those guys could have done it.” I lean against the counter of the pet shop. Behind me, Dennis sits at the computer.

  “What’s going to happen to them? The caterers?” she asks.

  “Probably nothing, until the toxicology report comes back. Then, if there’s evidence, they’ll be charged.” I shake my head. “But it doesn’t make sense. Why would they do it? What motive would they have?”

  Sarah practically throws her hands up. “Maybe it’s because, like I’ve been saying this whole time, it wasn’t about me!”

  “Maybe.” I’m not ready to concede that just yet.

  She gently grabs my chin and forces me to look at her. “Hey, you have
another case. Let Patty and the police handle this one. How’s it going with the dog, anyway?”

  “Dennis already called the breeder. We’re just waiting on an email from our guy.”

  “Good. Focus on that. A referral from a judge can do wonders for you…”

  “I just feel like I’m missing a single piece of the puzzle, and if I had it, it’d all come together.”

  “For Pete’s sake, Will. You’re obsessed.”

  “We got a hit!” Dennis suddenly shouts.

  “From where?”

  “Hang on…” His fingers fly across the keyboard. “Hang on… Come on, you stupid thing… Will, we’re going to have to get you a better wireless router—”

  “Dennis!”

  “Got an address.”

  “Bring it, let’s go. Come on, Rowdy.”

  ***

  “So… why don’t we just go in and nab him?”

  I sigh. “Because, Dennis, we don’t ‘nab’ anyone. We watch. We wait. We get information, and then we go to the police.” I shake my head. “What am I saying? We don’t do any of that; I do.”

  The three of us—me, Dennis, and Rowdy—sit in my SUV across the street from Wok This Way, the Chinese food restaurant. Half a block away is the white panel van, and according to what Dennis found, our dog-napping friend is inside currently enjoying a meal.

  “What did his last email say?” I ask him.

  “It said that if the breeder wants the dog, he’ll send her an address later tonight. He wants to meet first-thing tomorrow morning, and told her to bring cash.”

  “What a dirt bag. At least that gives us something. If he doesn’t know what the breeder looks like, maybe Patty can help us out.”

  “I just want to say,” Dennis tells me, “I totally feel like the Robin to your Batman.”

  “Except that you’re not.”

  “A little bit, though.”

  “If anything, you’re Alfred.”

  “That is ice-cold, man.” Dennis thinks for a moment. “Actually, Alfred is pretty cool…”

  “There he is.” I point through the window. Sure enough, Ponytail Guy leaves Wok This Way, looks left and right, and then hurries to his van. As I start the ignition, I tell Dennis, “Get your phone out. I want you to snap a photo of his license plate when we’re close enough.”

  “Then what?”

  “Then we’ll follow him for a little bit, see where he goes next. Maybe he’ll go home.” I make a U-turn in the street and follow as the white van pulls away from the curb. But just as I’m getting close, a black sports car pulls out of a side street and cuts me off, putting distance between us and the van.

  “I can’t get a photo with that guy in the way,” Dennis remarks.

  “I get that,” I mutter. “I can’t exactly go around him.” With a car between us, we trail the van as it heads out of downtown Seaview Rock. About a block ahead, the next stoplight turns yellow but the van speeds up and blows through it. The black car in front of us hits the brakes.

  “We’re going to lose him!” I smack the steering wheel in frustration.

  “Hey, no worries,” Dennis says. “If we lose him, we can set up a fake meeting for tomorrow morning.”

  “I don’t want to wait that long,” I mutter.

  “Why not? What’s it matter?”

  “I guess it doesn’t,” I sigh. “It’s just that the woman who gave me this case also gave me a deadline, forty-eight hours. Tomorrow morning is still within that, but I don’t want to take the chance of blowing it if we can find out where the dog is today.”

  Dennis thinks for a moment. “Why would she give you a deadline?”

  “I don’t know.” I guess I never gave it much thought. But since I have one, I’m going to make darn sure I make it. “Hang onto something.”

  “Why, what are you—oh!”

  As soon as the light turns green, I swerve around the black sports car and slam the gas, lurching forward. Dennis grabs the door handle like he’s clinging for dear life. Behind us, Rowdy yelps a little as he’s thrown against the seat.

  “Sorry, pal,” I tell him. “You okay?”

  “Yeah, I’m fine.”

  “…I meant the dog.”

  “Of course you did. Hey, I think I see him! A few blocks ahead!” Dennis points out the windshield excitedly.

  “Good. I’m going to keep my distance, in case he saw that little maneuver. Keep your eyes on him. And for the love of everything holy, do not tell your sister I did that.”

  CHAPTER 13

  * * *

  Just as I’m sure the van is about to leave Seaview Rock, Ponytail Guy pulls into the lot of a motel on the southern edge of town. There’s nowhere else for me to go but to either keep driving or pull in after him, so I do the latter and park on the opposite side, close to the motel office.

  “He’s watching us,” Dennis notes.

  “Don’t stare. Let’s just get out and go into the office, as if we were customers. Maybe he’ll think it’s a coincidence.” It’s not my fault if he noticed us; this is the first time I’ve had to follow someone. It’s not like I have a lot of experience.

  “Look, he’s right there. Why don’t we just go over and confront him? There’s two of us and one of him.”

  “Because, Dennis, this isn’t a movie. That’s the not things work in real life. What if he feels threatened and attacks us? What if he has a weapon?”

  Dennis shrugs. “You’re right. Let’s go. By the way, you never read my web comic, did you?”

  “Sorry, no. I haven’t yet.”

  We go into the office and the motel clerk, an older man with a white beard, looks up at us over his newspaper. “Can I help you?” he asks, monotone.

  “Hi, I was wondering if your motel is pet-friendly,” I ask him.

  He nods. “Dogs only.”

  “Perfect. There’s a guy staying here, about my height, brown hair in a ponytail… you wouldn’t happen to know his name, would you?”

  The clerk raises an eyebrow. “I can’t tell you that.”

  “I figured as much. Thanks anyway. Come on, Dennis.” We head toward the door.

  “You don’t want a room?” the clerk calls out.

  “Nope.”

  Outside, I dare to glance over at the white van. Ponytail Guy is leaning against it, watching us as we return to the car. I open my side, but Dennis pauses with his hand on the latch.

  “Sorry, Will. But this is ridiculous. I mean, he’s right there.” He turns and starts toward the van.

  “Dennis!” I hiss. “Come back here!” I deliberate for half a second, and then I hurry after him. “This kid is going to get us all in trouble,” I grumble.

  “Hey, buddy,” Dennis calls out. “I’m looking for my dog. Maybe you’ve seen her? She’s a Yorkie, pink bow in her hair, answers to Muffy?”

  Ponytail Guy doesn’t miss a beat. His eyes go wide for a split second before he throws open the door, hops in the van, and starts it up.

  “Dennis, get the license plate number!” I shout.

  He pulls out his phone, nearly drops it, and snaps a photo. At almost the same time, the guy puts the van in reverse and lurches backward. Dennis jumps out of the way, inches from being clipped by the rear fender.

  The van screeches out of the parking lot and around the corner, heading out of town.

  “Nice going,” I scold him, pulling Dennis to his feet. “Now he’s gone. And I’m not getting myself into a car chase.”

  “Sorry,” he mutters. “But hey—I got the license plate number.”

  “Well, at least that’s something. But there’s no telling if he’ll come back, even if we do set up a meeting…” I trail off. “Did you hear that?”

  “No.”

  “Shh.”

  From somewhere nearby, a dog yips.

  Dennis and I both look at each other and our eyes widen. I dash back to my car and let Rowdy out. I find the pink stuffe
d bear that Georgia Strauss gave me and hold it under Rowdy’s nose.

  “Find her, boy.” He sniffs the toy a few times, and then bounds toward the motel, sniffing furiously under each door before moving on to the next.

  “Will, that could be anyone’s dog,” Dennis notes.

  Rowdy pauses outside a door and cocks his head to the side. He sniffs a few more times, and then begins furiously scratching at it and whining.

  “Sure,” I wink, “could be anyone’s dog.”

  Back in the motel office, the clerk glances up at me, clearly annoyed. “Now what?”

  “I was wondering if you would be so kind as to unlock the door to room 3A. Please.”

  “And why would I do that?”

  “There’s some stolen property in there that I’d like to recover.”

  He sets his paper aside and scrutinizes me. “You a cop?”

  “No, sir. I’m a private investigator. But I do have the chief of police on speed dial, and I’d be more than happy to give her a call. She’s probably busy and won’t take too kindly to having to come down here—”

  He rises from his chair. “I’ll get my keys.”

  CHAPTER 14

  * * *

  Thirty minutes later, Georgia Strauss opens the door to see her beloved dog Muffy tucked under one of my arms. Her face breaks into the first genuine smile I’ve seen on her, and she hurries forward to take her.

  “Oh, Muffy! Mama was so worried about you!” She cradles the dog to her chest. “Will, please come in.” Once the door is closed behind me, she asks, “How did you find her?”

  “Kind of a long story,” I tell her. “The dog-napper was keeping her in a motel room at the edge of town. I followed him there, but he ran off. He got away, Ms. Strauss, I’m sorry.”

  She shrugs with one shoulder. “You did the job you were hired to do; you got Muffy back. And I imagine you’ll be able to give some sort of description to law enforcement?”

  “And a license plate number.”