Bite the Biscuit (A Barkery & Biscuits Mystery) (13 page)

Was I jealous of her looks? No. I was okay-looking, and certainly didn’t want to stand out in a crowd as she did. But since she was a politician, attracting attention was undoubtedly second nature to her.

“I want to buy an assortment of your dog treats to bring home to my Fanny and Flip to try out,” Billi said. Fanny was her beagle mix, and Flip was her black Lab. “Then I’ll want to buy a bunch of what they like best for the shelter.”

“Of course,” I said. “I’m sure they’ll love everything. But—well, this is only our second full day of business and we’re running low on everything. I intend to donate any leftovers to Mountaintop Rescue anyway.” I’d also continue to bring some to the veterinary clinic.

“Really? That’s fantastic. But we’ll buy some from you too. I want to make sure you’re really successful—and that way you’ll be able to keep those donations coming.”

I smiled and led her to the glass display case to pick out what she wanted, which was a smattering of everything.

I handed her the nearly filled box when we were done and she paid for her order. By that time, Dinah had finished with her customers too and had gone into the kitchen. Billi walked to the side of the room, where Biscuit slept on her soft bed in the crate near the wall. She knelt and petted my dog, who wriggled with pleasure.

When Billi stood, she came back to where I remained near the counter. “Look, Carrie. I’ve heard … well, I know some people may think your stupid little argument with Myra led you to kill her.” I opened my mouth to assure her of my innocence but I didn’t have to. She put her hand up to keep me from talking, then said, “I know you didn’t do it. So do most people. But you’re a convenient suspect, so the cops are after you.”

I nodded ruefully. “That’s for sure. In fact … ” I told her briefly about my two visits from them.

“Well, don’t you worry.” She leveled her dark, attractively made-up eyes on me. “City Council can’t do everything. I can’t do everything. But anything we can do to get behind you and get the authorities looking for who really did it? You can be sure that’s what we’ll be doing.”

“Thanks,” I said gratefully. And for the second time that day, I shared a hug with someone, this time a friend.

Billi left soon afterward and I returned to the kitchen, this time sending Judy out to staff the Barkery. I wanted to start other dog treats baking, planning in advance to have leftovers to give to the rescue organization.

I rather lost track of time, but when I heard a bunch of voices in the Barkery and hurried back in to help Judy wait on customers, I realized that Biscuit and I had to head to the veterinary clinic for my shift. I packed up a box of the treats we’d baked, since I’d decided to create a lot today. And I made sure there were plenty of extras so I’d have some to give to Billi later. While I was at it, I decided to bring some extras to the clinic to share with the dogs at daycare with Biscuit that day.

It was always good for promotion to give out freebies now and then, and I placed a sticker for the Barkery on the box. I’d tell Faye, and also let Charlie and Al know, that it wouldn’t hurt for them to mention to owners of the day care dogs just where the delicious dog biscuits had come from.

“Of course we’ll let people know,” Faye asserted after I handed the box to her at the check-in counter. Her grin beneath her terrier-rough dark hair was huge. “I’ve already mentioned to a few people how one of our wonderful vet techs has opened a shop that includes the sale of healthy hand-baked dog treats. Now they’ll get to sample it. Rather, their dogs will.”

Her eyes scanned the large room full of dogs of various sizes, most of whom were chasing balls being rolled along the linoleum floor by Charlie and Al. My gaze followed hers. I hadn’t brought enough for everyone, but at least some of those pups would get a taste. Maybe their owners too.

“People could also try it if they want,” I said to Faye. “We use only the best ingredients both for the dog treats and the people baked goods next door. Or is this too much promotional information?”

“Never!” Faye’s smile grew even wider. Giving a quick nod, she reached into the box and pulled out a bone-shaped biscuit. She pulled off one end and put it into her mouth. “Delicious! Although do I dare ask what’s in it?”

It was one of the ones I thought might become a favorite. “Apple slivers, for one thing. And—”

A dog owner I knew from seeing her at the daycare before came over. “I want to pick Pete up,” she said, then looked down at the box sitting on the narrow counter. “What’s that?”

I explained, and before I was through, another biscuit was gone—after she, too, had tasted an end.

“I’ll be visiting your shop really soon,” the lady said, then reached out for the little black dog Al handed her. “With Pete.”

I laughed, thanked Faye, patted Biscuit—who’d remained at my feet during all this—and then hurried through the door into the veterinary clinic. I went to the dressing room to change into my usual scrubs, then entered the back room to learn my first assignment of the day.

I didn’t have to wait long. Arvie needed a tech with him to hold onto a young Weimaraner who’d gotten something stuck at the back of his mouth. He didn’t have to wait until one of the male techs was available; I was strong enough to help.

The owner, a motherly woman who was biting her lips nervously, said she didn’t know what the dog, named Kato, had gotten into. It turned out that he’d bitten the wrong way into one of the thick manufactured treats that were supposed to be excellent for dogs’ teeth. It had broken and gotten stuck. This didn’t happen often, and poor Kato hadn’t been able to dislodge it.

Arvie removed it as I held Kato. The dog’s mother was extremely grateful and thanked us both over and over.

So did Kato, with a few licks.

The next patient I helped was a Shih Tzu there for shots. I brought the necessities into the room where Reed had been examining her.

The rest of my shift progressed equally well, with nothing particularly noteworthy, which meant it was a good day. No truly ill or injured animals, no life-and-death situations.

When it was over, I went into the back room to change again. My phone was ringing as I grabbed my purse from my locker. I looked at the ID and didn’t recognize the number. But I figured out who it had to be.

I had a sort-of date scheduled for this afternoon.

Sure enough, it was Jack Loroco. “I went to your shop to see you and Judy told me when you got off work at the vet hospital. I’m here in the waiting room now.”

“I’ll be out in a minute,” I said.

I wondered if I should thank or scold Judy for giving out somewhat personal information like when I got off duty as a vet tech.

But I’d given Jack my phone number, which was even more personal. And I’d looked forward to getting together with him—partly to find out what he was looking for in VimPets products, although I had mixed emotions about that possibility. Mainly, I wanted to extract from him an explanation of his strange comment about having a motive to kill Myra Ethman.

The rest of this afternoon might be very interesting.

ELEVEN

J
ACK WAS SITTING ON
one of the long benches along the wall in the waiting room, between a woman holding a cat carrier and a guy with a dachshund on his lap. He seemed engrossed in conversation with the doxie guy, but as soon as I stepped into the room he must have noticed, since he rose and strode toward me.

He reached out to grasp my arms and give me a brief hug. It seemed a bit off to me as a greeting here, but I let him … until my gaze stopped at the large open window in the wall into the reception area. Reed was standing there, looking at us with an expression I couldn’t interpret.

Surely he didn’t think I was flirting with this guy. And even if I was, he and I had no exclusivity pact—not even an actual relationship. Not yet, at least.

Besides, I didn’t exactly know why Jack had hugged me. Had he noticed Reed—whom he’d also seen at my store-opening event—and decided to play a nasty trick? Did he genuinely feel glad to see me? Did he think we were now somehow closer since he’d given me a platonic kiss on the forehead when he’d said good night? Or was the gesture designed to encourage me to do business with him?

In any event, I felt rather discombobulated and, though smiling, stepped back. “Hi,” I said to Jack. “Thanks for coming.” That was partially for Reed, in case he thought I’d been ambushed by Jack’s appearance.

I glanced again toward Reed. He had some papers in his hand, yet his gaze remained on me.

I realized how stupid I was being—both professionally and personally. I pulled away from Jack. “Just a sec.” I went toward the reception area. “Jack’s a visitor,” I told Reed, ignoring the interest on the faces of the receptionists behind the desks. “He works for VimPets and wants to know more about my Barkery products. I’m a bit jazzed, since he might convince them to create a line of products based on my recipes.”

“I think you’d better watch what he tries to convince you of,” Reed said, but his expression lightened a bit.

Good. I certainly didn’t want to burn any bridges with Reed. But neither did I want to turn Jack off—not till I’d talked to him not only about VimPets, but also about Myra. I gave a brief goodbye to Reed, then returned to Jack.

“Where would you like to go?” he asked.

“Around back first,” I said, “to our doggy daycare area. I need to get Biscuit. Then … how about Cuppa-Joe’s? It’s my favorite coffee hangout in town, and I know Biscuit’s welcome there.”

“Fine.” Jack said a quick goodbye to the dachshund man, then moved ahead to open the waiting room’s door. We walked around the building to the daycare facility, and he opened that door for me too.

Faye must have been watching for me. She knew my schedule at the clinic, and as we entered she hurried toward me. I glanced around and saw that Biscuit had seen me, too. She’d been snoozing in a corner on some doggy blankets, but now she hurried in my direction.

I bent to pick her up as she reached me, then stood again to look Faye in the eye. “How was she today?”

“Perfect as usual. And in case you’re interested, all the treats you brought are gone. I let the owners know where they came from, of course. I suspect you’ll get a bunch of business from them.”

“Thanks, Faye—for everything!”

I didn’t introduce Jack. No need, and Faye was immediately distracted by some growls as a couple of dogs that Al was watching started arguing over the same toy.

As we walked out, Jack said, “That sounded like an excellent testimonial. I’ll add it to the report I’m sending to my employer about you and your products.”

I felt my face flush, as if he’d complimented me on my good looks. He had, though, said nice things about something even more important to me.

“We can walk to Cuppa-Joe’s,” I told him. “It’s only a few blocks.” It still took some maneuvering on the town’s twisting streets, but we got there in about five minutes.

“Cute little place,” Jack remarked as we arrived on the sidewalk in front of the coffee shop.

“Not really so little,” I told him. “Lots of inside space and patio areas.”

I led him into the main room, holding Biscuit in my arms. I waved at Joe and Irma as I led the way to my favorite patio, one where Biscuit would feel right at home. I lowered my pup to the concrete surface, then sat down on a metal chair at a small, round table. Jack took the seat across from me.

Irma, rather than Kit, was there immediately to take our orders. “The usual?” she asked me, then gave a brief quizzical look toward Jack that added more lines temporarily to the sides of her brown eyes.

“Maybe,” I said. “First I’d like you to meet Jack Loroco. He’s a visitor to town and has some business ideas for the Barkery part of my shops.”

“Oh.” Irma drew out the word, as though she was saying
that explains why you’re not with Reed
. Maybe she was being too maternal to me. I’d probably have to talk to her one of these days. “What can I get for you, Jack?”

“Brewed coffee, lots of room for cream,” he said.

Although that was my usual coffee choice, I told Irma I’d decided on a treat today: mocha, heavy on the dark chocolate.

While we waited, I bent to pat Biscuit’s head while she settled down. I knew Irma would bring her a bowl of water. Then I straightened in my chair and said to Jack, just to make conversation, “So what do you think about Knobcone Heights?”

“Enjoyable place. I often come here with staff members who report to me. We use it as a retreat where we can talk business and still have fun. I think I told you before that I come here for boating and skiing, and they’re at different times of the year.”

“You leave your pets at home?” I smiled to show I intended no criticism, but he made his living from pets and presumably liked them.

“Just one pet, Rigsley. I mentioned him to you before—a wonderful rescue dog. Sometimes I bring him, but not always. I didn’t last time, or this time either.”

“I’d love to meet him sometime. But if you get to town often, I’m actually glad I haven’t met him yet since that would probably mean you had to bring him to our veterinary hospital.”

Jack laughed. “Yeah, fortunately Rigsley is a healthy pup. I’d guess he’s about three years old.” He bent down and patted Biscuit again. My little girl looked up and wagged her tail.

Irma brought our drinks then, in disposable cups we could take with us when we left. I took a sip of my mocha, closed my eyes for a second, and smiled. “Perfect,” I said.

Jack poured cream into his coffee, then tasted it. “Good stuff,” he said to Irma.

“I’ll have one of the girls bring some water over for Biscuit,” Irma said, then left.

Okay. It was time to talk business. Or at least about one of the two topics I wanted to address with Jack. And the easiest one to start with was VimPets.

“So, what’s your title at VimPets?” I asked.

“Senior Product Manager. I’m always looking for new stuff that fits our high-quality inventory.”

Jack appeared professional today. The first couple of times I’d seen him—at my shop and at the resort—he’d been dressed more casually. But now, in his beige button-down shirt and brown trousers, with a calculating expression in his coffee-with-cream-colored eyes, I could see the executive side of him.