Then it was Felix's turn. We watched as he greeted Bruiser who was once again chained to the tree. The dog clearly responded immediately to Felix's touch as Felix stroked his back and rubbed behind his ears.
I could totally relate. Holly was impressed by Felix too. She was almost as eager to please him as Bruiser was. They went out for a walk together and the dog who strained and lunged at the leash when Holly was at the other end trotted alongside Felix, matching him step for step and watching his every move.
And who wouldn't be looking at Felix? He was wearing a white t-shirt and a pair of soft jeans that fit very nicely indeed. Holly was grateful and threw her arms around Felix when he left her with instructions to take Bruiser for a walk every day, three times a day, to give him the companionship and exercise he needed.
The final episode featured Miranda Skarbos. She sat down in the mud and stared at Bruiser, who stared back at her with his big golden eyes. Miranda scratched her head, then scratched Bruiser's head. He whined and rolled over on his back, exposing his belly.
While idly stroking him, Miranda began to speak. “The dog, he says that he is neglected. He loves his person, but she is too busy to give him the attention he needs. He seeks it from people as they walk by, but they misinterpret his barking as aggression and complain about him to the police, which makes his person mad at him. He only wants to be loved. And he says there is a woman who lives across the street who loves him. Her name starts with an
S
. She is an old lady, but she makes excellent snickerdoodles. He wants to live with her instead of with Holly.”
The camera now panned to Holly who had been standing on the porch during this conversation between Miranda and Bruiser.
“Fine!” she said. “If he wants to go live with someone else, let him!” She stomped into the house and slammed the door.
The film stopped there.
“Unfortunately,” said the director. “We weren't able to identify the old lady in question. The building across the street is senior housing. It's full of old ladies.”
“I know who it is!” I said. “Bruiser is talking about Mrs. Snelson!”
Everyone turned around to look at me.
“You know this old lady?” Felix asked.
“Yes, she's my client,” I said, sort of proud to be able to say I had a client.
“Do you think she's interested in adopting a dog?” Rebecca asked.
“I don't know,” I said. “I can ask her.”
“That would be great,” Caro said. “We were stumped about what to do next. Given the lack of enthusiasm shown by the owner, we were nervous about leaving the dog with her.”
“It would be great if we could film her with the dog,” said the director. “Then we'll have a happy ending for this episode.”
“So what does this mean for the show?” I asked.
“Well, that's the wonderful news!” said Rebecca. “I wanted to have you all together when I announced it.” She paused a moment to be sure all eyes were on her. “We had a hard time deciding which pet expert to feature, since all three of you were so good. So we've changed the concept.”
I sensed more than saw Felix slouch in dejection. He seemed upset. It looked like maybe he wasn't going back to L.A. after all.
“We're going to call it
Pet Interventions
and set up the show so viewers can vote at the end as to which solution to the pet's problem they think is best. Audience interaction is such a key element of a successful show.”
There was a buzz of excitement in the room. Felix turned to grin at me, then reached over and bumped fists with Caro, who was also smiling.
I tried to look pleased, but I was annoyed. I hated that idea. I never trust the audience to vote correctly. They always get all their friends to vote. Of course, they should all be voting for Felix. I would probably never watch the stupid show.
“Assuming we get a green light from the studio, we'll start filming in January in L.A.”
“Ah! Los Angeles in January!” said Pepe, lifting his head. “It will be paradise compared to Seattle in January.”
“I happen to like Seattle in January,” I told my dog. “Grey skies, lots of rain, staying inside, drinking lattes, reading books. . . .”
Caro looked confused. So did Felix. “What are you talking about, Geri?”
“Just responding to something Pepe said,” I said.
“So your dog is talking to you again?” Caro asked, her eyes bright.
“Yes!” I said.
“Was that because of our advice?” Felix wanted to know.
Pepe just rolled his eyes. “I am talking because Geri no longer needs me to be silent.”
“I needed you to be silent?” I asked him.
“
Si
,” he said “You had to learn to trust your own instincts the way a dog does. I believe you have finally achieved enough self-confidence to be my partner.”
“You needed him to be silent?” Caro asked.
“Apparently, yes,” I said. “So I could become more confident.”
“You no longer need a bicycle,” Pepe said.
“Or a man,” I said. Felix looked at me, puzzled. But I told myself it was better for both of us. He didn't need me. He was moving on.
Chapter 28
Rebecca called for another round of champagne and everyone (except Felix who asked for a glass of Perrier) toasted the success of
Pet Interventions
. Among that happy crowd of people who were looking forward to fame and fortune, I was perhaps the only person who wasn't elated.
Felix was making the rounds, thanking the cameramen for their work, chatting with the director. His eyes were shining and he seemed happy.
I drifted around the room, feeling about as useless as a bicycle in a school of fishes. Pepe had disappeared, probably off chasing Siren Song. When he finally reappeared, Siren Song was at his heels, along with Felix's little dog, Fuzzy.
“Geri! Geri!” Pepe was practically squeaking with excitement. “I found a clue!”
“Great!” I mumbled. “What is it?”
Fuzzy gave a series of sharp barks. I could almost imagine she was scolding Pepe.
“OK, OK, Fuzzy was the one who found the clue!” said Pepe.”But it is
muy importante.
You must get Rebecca to open up a hall closet.”
“Why would I do that?” I asked.
“Because there is a clue as to the perpetrator in there,” said Pepe.
“Perpetrator of what?”
“Of the murder of Mrs. Fairchild.”
“Why would that be here?” I asked. And then remembered that Brad had worked for Rebecca. “Brad?” I asked with a gasp.
“Not Brad!” said Pepe. I could swear he sounded cross. “Although his scent is in the closet as well, but so is the faint scent of Budweiser and Camel cigarettes.”
The dogs accompanied me as I set down my glass and went in search of Rebecca. She was deep in conversation with one of the production assistants, but I waited patiently, offering my congratulations to both of them, until the P.A. drifted off and Rebecca turned to me.
“I suppose you'll be coming down to L.A. with Felix!” she said gaily. “That will be great. Siren Song and Pepe can have play dates.”
“I don't know,” I said, glancing over at Felix. I always knew where he was in a room, just like Pepe always knows where I am. “I'm pretty happy with my life in Seattle.”
Rebecca glanced at Felix too. “I wouldn't leave a man that good-looking alone in L.A., but it's up to you.”
“Maybe he'll commute,” I said.
“We'll be shooting for six weeks straight, twelve hours a day,” Rebecca said. “That's how it's done with these shows. And, you know, once he's down there, I'm sure he'll get other offers. He's very talented.”
I had to agree, but I had another agenda. “Rebecca, I need to ask you to open your hall closet for me.”
“What? Did you leave a coat there? I can get Luis to fetch it for you.”
“No, it's just that Pepe found a clue there.”
Rebecca looked at me like I was completely crazy.
“I mean, yes, I did put my coat there,” I stammered, “and I need to leave to go pursue a clue in a case I'm working on.”
“What about Felix?” Rebecca asked, glancing over at him. But he was totally absorbed in the conversation he was having with the director. Caro had joined them.
“I'll catch up with him later,” I said.
“Which closet?” Rebecca asked.
“Oh, yes, which closet?” I asked Pepe.
“The one closest to the back door on this level,” Pepe said. He trotted ahead of us and stood in front of the door. Siren Song and Fuzzy flanked his sides.
“Well, it's not locked,” said Rebecca, looking even more puzzled. She pulled the door open to reveal a utility closet filled with several brooms and a mop in a bucket. A paint can sat on the top shelf.
“Up there!” said Pepe. “That paint can on the left!”
“Can I see one of the paint cans?” I asked.
Rebecca practically rolled her eyes, but she took hold of the paint can I pointed out and held it up by its wire handle.
“That's it! That's it!” said Pepe, jumping up and down with excitement. “It smells like Budweiser and Camel cigarettes.”
I looked at the paint can. It had clearly been opened. A faint splash of lemon yellow paint showed on the edges of the lid and had dripped down over the label. But it did not obscure the name of the paint: “Citrus Circus.”
“Is this yours?” I asked. It didn't seem like a color that Rebecca would want in her home.
“No, Brad left it the last time he was here,” she said.
“But Brad doesn't drink Budweiser or smoke Camel cigarettes!” I said.
“What are you talking about?”
Good question. What was I talking about? I was trusting my dog with his preposterous theories of scent detection.
“Maybe Brad got it from someone else,” Pepe suggested.
“Did Brad get this from someone else?” I asked.
“How would I know that?” Rebecca asked. “Do you want it?” She thrust the paint can at me. “I thought you were looking for your coat.”
“I guess I put it in another closet,” I said, holding the paint can. The handle cut into my fingers. I felt like an idiot.
“Take it, Geri! It is evidence!” declared Pepe.
“In that case, I should not move it from the scene,” I told him.
“I think Brad meant to take it with him,” Rebecca said, shutting the door. “But he was distracted by that phone call and left it behind. So I put it away in the closet.”
“What phone call?”
“I don't know who it was, but the guy was furious with Brad. I could tell it was a man because his voice was so loud.”
Rebecca was on her way back to the media room. I followed, with the dogs trotting behind me.
“Could you hear what they were talking about?”
“Well, yes, the other guy said that he wanted to get paid and if Brad wasn't going to pay him for his work, he was damn well going to get it from the old lady.”
“And what did Brad say?”
“Brad just tried to calm him down. You know, I had just paid him and he had a lot of cash in his pocket so he told the guy not to bother Mrs. Whateverâand he would be right over and make sure the guy got paid. Then he just ran off and left the paint can in the hall so I put it away.”
“Could it have been Mrs. Fairchild?”
“Who was calling him?” Rebecca paused at the entrance to the media room.
“No, the name of Mrs. Whatever. Could it have been Mrs. Fairchild?”
“I suppose,” said Rebecca. “It really wasn't memorable.”
“I think you just helped us solve a murder!” I said, giving her a quick hug.
“Aren't you going to come in?” she asked, looking puzzled. “Isn't Felix going with you?”
“I'm sure I'll catch up with him later,” I said. “Right now, Pepe and I have some urgent detective business to take care of.”