Bite the Biscuit (A Barkery & Biscuits Mystery) (22 page)

It might anyway, I reminded myself. It was worse—much worse—that I was considered a murder suspect.

I looked at my beloved senior mentor and smiled. “Thanks, Arvie,” I said, as one of my tech coworkers walked by and glanced quizzically toward us. I waved without really looking at him. I instead looked from Arvie to Reed and back again. “As I said, I’ll see if I can work anything out for tomorrow. I do have an couple of assistants lined up to help at my stores but haven’t required either of them to work alone much.” And I didn’t have someone else lined up who could come in and help, if necessary.

“I like your stores, Carrie,” Reed said. “Don’t get me wrong. But I think you’re going to have to make a choice.”

“We’ll see,” Arvie said. “But that’s in the future. Right now, please just let us know as soon as you can about tomorrow, and I’ll also see who else around here might be able to help out. Now, I’ve a kitty waiting for me down the hall so I’ve got to go. Give us a call if you can help, Carrie.”

“Okay.”

I watched Arvie stride down the hall, then looked again at Reed. Had I been mistaken about his interest in me as something other than an assistant here on the job?

Maybe not. His expression was softer now. “Sorry, Carrie. I was out of line, but a couple of those surgeries tomorrow are mine and I’m concerned that all the right details be in place before I perform them.”

So he considered me a “right detail”? That didn’t make me feel much better. “I understand,” I said, attempting to make my assertion feel true. “Anyway, like I said, I’ll see what I can do. But—”

“But yes, I know, your new venture has priority in your life.”

But so do the animals here
, I thought.

And, perhaps, Reed … ?

A man holding one of the patients walked down the hall, a welcome interruption. I pulled my gaze from Reed’s deep brown eyes and said, “I’ll talk to you soon.” And then Biscuit and I left.

Now what could I do?

Well, the first thing was to go back to the shops that had helped to cause this crisis in my vet tech career.

I drove Biscuit and myself there slowly as my mind cranked around possibilities. Maybe it was already time for me to hire another assistant at the shops, but how could I afford it? Go full-time again as a vet tech to pay for extra staff and let my helpers run my new, fun, potentially exciting venture? I didn’t think so.

I parked in back and took Biscuit around the side of the building to enter the door into the Barkery. There were no customers, and after hitching Biscuit to her crate I went into Icing. Also empty. But both Judy and Dinah entered from the kitchen.

“Sorry for not coming into the Barkery,” Dinah said, “but we knew it was you since we saw you park out back.”

I nodded. “No problem. And at the moment it’s probably a good thing that it’s empty. I have a problem, and I hope you can help me with it.”

I got a cup of coffee from our urn at the back of Icing, then explained my dilemma to my assistants, who both regarded me with concerned expressions. “I realize that when you agreed to stagger your weekdays working here you assumed I’d be around most of the time—that I’d keep my hours at the veterinary clinic to a minimum. But they need me tomorrow.” I looked at Judy. “Are you okay being in charge of both shops yourself for potentially a couple of stretches of more than an hour or so each?”

“No problem at all,” Judy said. “I think we’re both getting used to our dual duties here, and keeping an eye on two small shops at a time—well, I’m up for it. How about you, Dinah, if Carrie’s schedule at the clinic is heavy like that?”

Dinah was fine with it too. A huge weight lifted from my shoulders. “I can’t thank you both enough,” I said. “And as time goes on and we’re as successful as I’m sure we’ll be, I’ll give you raises and add some more help.” Even though neither one had encouraged my hiring someone additional, I suspected they both would agree if I made that decision.

We engaged in a brief hug fest that lasted only a minute, since we heard the bell on the Barkery’s door ring. I headed toward the other shop.

I enjoyed waiting on the customer who’d just come in, another local whose dog I knew from the clinic. I smiled and laughed a lot as I sold her several kinds of treats for her little schnauzer. I felt so darned good. This was all going to work, and work well. I even heard the bell on Icing’s door ring while I was busy.

When the customer left, I gave Biscuit a huge hug, then walked back into Icing to thank my wonderful assistants yet again and to say good night, since it was nearly closing time.

They still had a few customers, so for the next ten minutes I stayed busy there, too.

When we again heard the bell go off on the Barkery side, I began wondering if this system would work in the long run—but was grateful when both Dinah and Judy headed for that shop.

My Icing customers finally left, so I was able to close up there, then headed into the Barkery to relieve my assistants and finish that shop’s business for the day too.

But as I walked in, I stopped so abruptly I was nearly hit by the closing door.

Dinah was there, behind the display case, helping just one customer.

That customer was Detective Bridget Morana.

I suddenly felt ill. After discussing their varying work schedules with my sweet and accommodating assistants, my mood had morphed into relief. Happiness, even. I’d potentially resolved, for now at least, a major concern in my life. Was that just a fantasy on my part, a bandage over an issue that was comparatively minor while I gushed blood from a much more vital area?

Okay, maybe that was a bit too ugly and graphic a metaphor, but I was worried. Was I about to be hauled off to jail for a murder I hadn’t committed? In fact, the only time I could probably be motivated to kill someone was if they majorly threatened my closest family—Neal or Biscuit—and even then I’d only do it if it would save my loved ones from harm.

But, hey, I’d had a relatively painless session with Bridget’s partner Wayne that morning. Maybe they were playing tag team, trying to unnerve me by showing up individually and seeing if, in fear, I blurted out the evidence they needed to haul me in. Wayne had even indicated he’d hoped I’d spout out a confession.

Not going to happen.

I forced myself to smile and drew closer to my good buddy Bridget.

“Well hello, Detective,” I gushed. “How nice to see you. Do you happen to have a dog as well as your delightful cat?”

“No, I actually just hoped to catch you before you closed and figured I was more likely to see you in your dog bakery than the people side.” Her tone and demeanor were friendly, not accusatory, and I didn’t trust them, or her, one bit. Today she wore a beige knit shirt over khaki slacks, and, with her light brown hair, she could easily disappear into a crowd and be able to study whatever subject she chose without being noticed. But as I’d seen before, her bushy brows were raised in an ironic arch that dimmed my idea of her easily blending in.

“Guess you were right.” I was proud of myself. I still sounded amazingly friendly, though I wanted to yell at her, throw her out, ask what she really wanted …

But I didn’t need to ask the latter. She answered it for me. “I’m glad you’re still open. I wanted to buy some people-cookies from you. I’m having a few friends over tonight and want to give them a special treat.”

Was she trying by flattery to get me to relax? Once again, that wasn’t going to happen—though I might allow her to think otherwise. “Well, thanks. I’m flattered that you’d like some of my cookies. Icing on the Cake is actually closed now, but come next door anyway and pick out what you want.”

Leaving Biscuit there, I ushered Bridget through the door between the shops. Judy, who’d probably gone into the kitchen before, was now in Icing, rearranging things in our display case for the night.

“What would you like?” I asked after leading the detective to the glassed-in front of our display.

Bridget looked at me for a long moment, and I could just guess what she was thinking:
Oh, how about a murder confession? Or, failing that, a slip of the tongue that’ll lead me to the same result?

Instead, she turned to study our baked goods. “How about a dozen of those great-looking sugar cookies. Better yet, make it half a dozen of them and half a dozen chocolate chip.”

“Of course. Judy, could you pack them for us?” I aimed my false, overly happy grin at my assistant. I saw her startled expression, but she turned away quickly and began to do as I asked.

“Anything else I can help you with, Detective?” I asked in a tone as sweet as the cookies I was about to sell her.

“I can’t think of anything, can you?” Bridget regarded me intensely, with the penetrating expression I’d seen before, though her tone too was light.

“Nope, but please come back anytime to buy some of our treats.” That hurt like a knife stuck into my palm, but I figured it needed to be said to keep her, hopefully, from coming back. Ever.

But her response was, “Of course. In fact, I think I’ll be back here a lot, Carrie. Thank you.”

With that, she paid the bill in the amount Judy quoted and left.

“Are you okay?” my assistant asked when she was gone. “It’s time for us to leave, but if you need some help now or anything, I’ll be glad to stay.”

“Me too,” said Dinah, from the doorway.

I had to take a deep breath to be able to answer. “No, but thank you both. You’ve done more than enough for me by being so wonderfully flexible about your hours. I’ll see you here on Tuesday morning, Dinah.”

“You definitely will, Carrie.” Dinah went back through the kitchen door.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Judy asked when she was gone.

“Absolutely,” I replied as brightly as I could muster.

“Guess I’ll go now too.”

“Great. See you tomorrow morning. I’ll lock up the Barkery, and Biscuit and I also will go home now.”

When Judy disappeared through the kitchen door I found myself clutching the end of the display case as if I’d collapse otherwise. Then I stood, straightened my shoulders, and went in to check that Icing’s front door was locked. Heading into the Barkery, I locked its door too, and gave Biscuit a huge hug.

TWENTY

“
T
IME TO GET OUT
of here, girl,” I finally said when I could breathe and didn’t feel like crying. Sure, my eyes had gotten a little damp, but I was determined not to let those cops get to me.

Especially since I figured that was exactly what they’d planned with their much-too-friendly visits.

But as it turned out, we weren’t leaving the shops immediately after all. Before I’d untethered Biscuit from her crate, my phone rang. As I drew it out of my pocket my breathing stopped again. Was it one of the detectives with another question? Would they suggest another purchase from one of my stores that would sound delightful but have some underlying meaning I couldn’t yet decipher—only worry about?

Drat. I wasn’t going to let them get to me that way.

I held onto the end of Biscuit’s leash, though, as if it tied me to sanity. In a way it did. My dog was there for me, sitting and watching me with her big brown eyes, wagging her golden tail on the floor.

I couldn’t help smiling at her. And when I looked at my phone, relief washed over me. I recognized the number even though I hadn’t programmed it in. It was Jack Loroco.

“Hi,” I said, immediately wondering about the reason for his call. At the same time, a pleasant feeling washed through me. He wasn’t a cop. And even though this was undoubtedly a business call, we’d parted on good terms and had even flirted a bit.

I wouldn’t mind a little more of it now, especially considering how my last visit with Reed had gone.

“Hi, Carrie. It’s Jack Loroco. I just wanted to let you know I’m heading back up to Knobcone later this week, probably Friday.”

Nothing certain, it seemed, but whatever the reason or timing, it might prove pleasant to me. He’d presumably been back at his job. Did he now have the authority to make me an offer to buy my recipes? If so, I wasn’t ready for it, but it would still feel good.

I assumed his pending visit was for something like that, though. We hadn’t flirted enough for it to make sense for him to come dashing up here again so soon, possibly in the middle of a work week, simply to get together with me.

“Great,” I said, then added, “I hope I’ll see you then.”

“That’s why I’m calling. I hope to see you too.”

No explanations as to his reason, and we chatted about pleasantries like the weather and Knobcone Heights for another couple of minutes.

And now I had a good reason to look forward to … well, when-
ever.

I wound up having a reason to look forward to that evening, too. I also received a call from Reed, this one as I pulled into my garage.

“Mind if I come over for a little while?” he asked. “I want to apologize for my attitude before.”

He did? And how did I feel about that?

Mostly good. “Sure,” I said. This would make it two nights in a row that he’d come by my house. I hadn’t eaten yet, but I didn’t feel like fixing anything. “Have you had dinner yet? I haven’t, so I could go get us some fast food if—”

“Don’t bother. I’ll be there in about half an hour, and I’ll bring the food. Is it okay if I bring Hugo?” That was his Belgian Malinois, a smart, friendly dog I’d seen several times before, sometimes at the clinic’s doggy daycare.

“Fine.”

“Great. See you soon.”

It turned out to be a pleasant evening.

As always, Hugo and Biscuit, although they weren’t best buddies, got along fine after their initial wary sniffs.

Reed, dressed in a snug blue T-shirt over jeans, brought a roast chicken dinner, and, even better, another bottle of wine. He’d obviously thought about the stress he’d put on me earlier about my working hours at the clinic and seemed to regret his attitude. “I’m just glad Arvie made it clear that whatever time you can put in at the clinic will be most welcome.”

By then, we were sitting in my kitchen, eating. Neal hadn’t called and he wasn’t home yet. I didn’t know if he was working late or out having fun. For all I knew, he could be out on a date with Gwen.