The Big Chihuahua Read online

  “The local vet has a sideline in taxidermy,” she replied. “Some folks ask him to stuff their pets when they die.”

  “¡Ay caramaba!” said Pepe. I had never seen him so upset. He started shaking and his little eyes seemed like they might pop right out of his head.

  “Don’t worry, Pepe. I won’t stuff you,” I said to him.

  “That would be a fate worse than death,” Pepe declared. I did not point out the obvious to him.

  I ordered a coffee and a piece of cherry pie. Terry ordered a hot fudge sundae.

  “Are you kidding?” I said. “That’s not on the Paleolithic diet!”

  She laughed. “Sometimes it’s good to be bad.”

  “What happened to you?” I didn’t want to beat around the bush.

  “They asked me some questions and I answered them,” she said.

  “No, I don’t mean now. I mean back then!”

  The waitress returned with my coffee and pie and Terry’s sundae. She dug in with gusto.

  “Geri,” she said, “I wish I could tell you, but I just can’t talk about it.”

  “What do you mean you can’t talk about it?” I asked. “Do you realize what it was like for us?” I stabbed my fork deep into the cherry pie. “We thought you were dead, Terry!” My eyes welled with tears.

  Terry reached across the table and put her hand over mine and squeezed it. “Geri, believe me, if I could have told you where I was, I would have. But I couldn’t.” She licked the chocolate sauce off her spoon. “I wanted to contact you so badly.” She plunged the spoon back into the gooey sundae. “Does your dog like ice cream?”

  “How thoughtful!” said Pepe, creeping out of the purse and approaching her. “Tell her I love ice cream.”

  “Wow! I could swear I heard him say he loves ice cream,” she said, smiling down at him. She scooped up some of the vanilla and held it out to him. His long pink tongue flicked out and he began polishing off the ice cream.

  “Did you really hear him?” I asked. I was a bit jealous. First Star could hear my dog, now my sister! Maybe the Dogawandans did have an uncanny ability to tap into a dog’s mind.

  “You’re kidding, right?” Terry said with a laugh. “It’s his attitude. He’s so expressive, you can almost imagine what he’s thinking.”

  “During all that time you couldn’t have called one of us? Or sent us an e-mail?”

  “We don’t have access to the outside world,” Terry said. “We’re really sheltered up there. And that’s what I needed.”

  “You could have come into town and called. Or written a letter,” I said.

  “Believe me, I was trying to protect you and Cheryl,” Terry said, her voice suddenly very serious.

  “How long have you been a Dogawandan?” I asked.

  “About six years,” she said. “I needed to change my life, and it seemed the perfect opportunity. A new name. A new start. Plus it gave me a sense of being part of a family. . . .” Her voice trailed off.

  I looked at her. She looked at me.

  “I’m sorry, Geri. I’m really sorry,” she said. I was still poking at my cherry pie. Terry reached across the table and grabbed my hands. “And I’m happy, really I am, that I got a chance to see you. Even if it messes up my life.”

  “What do you mean?” I asked.

  “Well, I’ll have to leave now . . .”

  “Why would you have to leave?”

  There was a commotion at the door to the restaurant. I twisted around to see the sheriff and a deputy approaching. They had their hands on their guns. They spoke to the hostess, and she pointed back at our table. I quickly grabbed Pepe and stuffed him into my purse. I don’t know what I was thinking. That maybe they were coming to arrest me for having a dog in a restaurant.

  They marched over to our table.

  “Stand up!” the sheriff said, addressing my sister.

  “What is this about?” she asked as she complied with their request.

  “Hands behind your back,” said the deputy.

  “What is going on?” I asked.

  “You’re under arrest,” said the sheriff, clicking a pair of handcuffs around my sister’s wrists.

  “What for?”

  “We ran your name. You’ve got a warrant.” She looked at me with horror in her eyes. “You told them my real name?”

  I held out my hands. “I thought I was helping.”

  Terry rolled her eyes. “Please don’t say anything more about me to anyone!”

  Chapter 15

  I paid the bill and went back to the police station, but they wouldn’t let me anywhere near my sister. The most I could get out of Alice was that they were processing her and would hold her overnight.

  I finally called Jimmy G and asked him what I should do. He recommended heading back to Seattle so we could hash things out. So that’s what we did. It was a long hot drive. Pepe slept through most of it while I tried to deal with the sense of queasiness and panic I felt about Tammy’s death and my sister’s arrest. A bigger shock awaited me when we walked into Jimmy G’s office.

  The usual chaos had been tripled. There were empty boxes all over the floor and the desk, and Jimmy G was trying to cram his prized green-shaded lamp into one of them. The file cabinet drawers were open and empty. Piles of manila folders sat on top of the two waiting room chairs.

  “Oh, hey there,” said our boss, looking up.

  “Hey, yourself,” I said.

  “And you, little rat-dog,” he said to Pepe. “How’s it hanging?”

  “Bigger than yours,” Pepe told him.

  Our boss frowned. “Jimmy G could swear he heard a note of sarcasm from your rat-dog,” he told me. “That couldn’t be possible, could it?”

  “Of course not,” I said.

  “You bet!” said Pepe.

  Jimmy G gave up on the lamp and left it sticking half out of the box. “Well,” he said, reaching into his ashtray and sticking a short, burned out cigar butt into his mouth. “Maybe Jimmy G’s been keeping company with you for too long. You always act like your dog’s talking to you, and could be that’s just rubbing off on Jimmy G.”

  I changed the subject. “What’s up, boss? Why are you packing?”

  “Figure Jimmy G has got to get his stuff out of here before the landlord throws it out on the street,” he said. “I just don’t see how I can get my hands on the kind of moola I need to pay the rent.”

  I was pretty sure he was going to ask me for a loan, so I changed the subject. “So how do you want me to proceed with the Mark Darling case?”

  “Oh, hey! Got your thinking cap on, doll!” Jimmy G said. “He owes us the balance on his account. Maybe that’ll keep the wolf away from the door for at least another month.”

  “What happened to the deposit?” I asked.

  “What deposit?” Jimmy G asked. “You should have collected that when you did the initial interview.”

  I shook my head. “You didn’t mention that.” And frankly, neither did The Private Detective’s Bible, my handy guide to my new profession.

  “Does Jimmy G have to tell you everything?” he asked.

  “Well, yes, you’re training us,” I said. “But do you really think we should be collecting money from him under the circumstances?” I asked.

  “You delivered the message, right?” Jimmy G asked.

  “Yes!”

  “That’s great. Now go collect the money.”

  “I’m not sure I can do that, Jimmy G.” I really didn’t think it was appropriate. Or civilized.

  “Part of the job. Got to get used to it. Didn’t you say you once worked for a collection agency?”

  “Yes, but I wasn’t good at it. Anyway, that’s not the problem. The problem is that shortly after I delivered the message, Tammy died.”

  “Died like in dead?”

  “Yes, dead.” I explained the situation to him, but I left out the part about my sister. It just didn’t seem relevant.

  “Well, that is unfortunate,” said Jimm
y G, “but you still did your part of the job.”

  “Yes, but I can’t go ask a man who just lost his wife to give us the money for delivering a message to her hours before her death.”

  “Well, if you can’t do it, Jimmy G can,” said my boss. “Come with me, doll, and Jimmy G will show you how it’s done.”

  The man who opened the door looked almost exactly the same as the man we had met almost two days earlier. It shook me up a bit; I expected maybe red eyes or a disheveled appearance.

  Maybe he didn’t know his wife was dead? I cringed at the thought of being the one to deliver the news. Not Jimmy G.

  “So, man,” he said, barging into the hall, “so sorry about your loss.” In an aside to me, he said, “Important to gain access to the home when collecting a debt.”

  Mark looked startled but stepped aside to let us parade by, then shut the door behind us. Jimmy G headed straight for the living room and plopped down on a caramel-colored leather couch, which made a slight squeaking sound. I paused on the threshold. Something was off. Something was different, but I couldn’t put my finger on it.

  “Where’s Fuzzy?” said Pepe, looking around the room.

  “Yes, where’s Fuzzy?” I asked.

  “Funniest thing,” said Mark, punctuating this statement with a mirthless laugh. “Took off the other night around midnight. Scratched at the door until I let her out. Haven’t seen her since.”

  “A brave perro,” said Pepe. “No doubt going to the rescue of her companion.”

  “Did you report her missing?” I asked. “Call the shelter?”

  “Geri, focus,” said Jimmy G. “There’s much more going on here than a missing dog. The man’s wife is dead.” He turned to Mark. “What have the police told you?” He patted the seat beside him, and when I sat down, he leaned over and said in what he thought was a sotto voce voice, “Always put the client at ease. Make conversation.”

  I hardly thought that talking about his wife’s death would put Mark at ease, but to my surprise it worked. Mark was eager to talk. He stood in front of the fireplace, his elbow on the mantel, facing Jimmy G.

  “They told me they think she wandered into the woods at night and was killed by a wild animal, possibly a bear!”

  “Aha!” said Pepe.

  “That sucks, pal,” said Jimmy G. “Did they tell you anything more?”

  Mark frowned. “No, they were very cagey. Insisted I should drive over there to talk to them. I was just leaving.”

  “Are you sure you’re in shape to go?” I asked. “Don’t you have anyone to drive you?”

  “No,” said Mark, waving away my concern. “As you recall”—his tone was bitter—“my wife was already dead to me. All that’s changed is that she’s really dead now.” He paused and looked at me suspiciously. “Did you ever deliver my message?”

  “Of course we did,” I said.

  “And?” Mark looked eager for the first time.

  “She said she really missed you.”

  “And Fuzzy! Don’t forget Fuzzy!” said Pepe.

  “She wanted to come home, but she believed she had to go through another level of training before it would be safe for her to return. And in order to do that, she had to make another payment.”

  “I knew it!” said Mark, turning away, teeth clenched. “They were just after our money!”

  “She looked good. She looked happy,” I said. Mark was facing away, so I couldn’t see his reaction.

  “So you see,” said Jimmy G, getting up and going over to Mark. Although not tall, Jimmy G had at least two inches on Mark. “We’ve come to collect our fee.”

  Chapter 16

  “You’ve got a lot of nerve!” said Mark, whirling around, his fists clenched. “My wife is dead and you’re asking me for money.”

  “Hey!” said our boss, putting out his hands in a placating gesture. “My operatives”—Jimmy G gestured at me and Pepe—“they are just trainees and so they neglected to collect the deposit on the first visit. According to our standard terms, you must pay half of our fee in advance and the other half upon completion. Seems to Jimmy G you owe us one thousand smackeroos.”

  “How do I know they actually completed the task?” asked Mark.

  I wondered about his anger. Easier to get mad than sad. My sister Terry had always been angry after our parents died. “And what do you mean trainees? I wanted licensed PIs. I need them to testify in court.”

  “What do you mean testify in court?” I asked. The idea both thrilled and terrified me.

  “Geri, did I ever tell you about my day in court?” asked Pepe. “I was the expert witness in a case of dog-food tampering.”

  “Hush, Pepe,” I said.

  “I’ve filed a suit against Crystal Star,” Mark said. “For alienation of affection and fraud. And now I’m going to add wrongful death. I don’t know how, but I know they were responsible.”

  “All the more reason to pay our fee,” said Jimmy G, taking a step closer to Mark. “You can keep us on retainer for an additional five hundred dollars.”

  “Look!” said Mark. He pushed his hands toward Jimmy G but without actually touching him. “I’m suing for a half a million. My lawyer thinks we have a good case. I’ll pay your agency a commission. Ten percent of whatever I get. After legal costs, of course. As long as your associates continue to gather evidence on my behalf. That’s one option.”

  Jimmy G looked thoughtful. “And the other?” “I’ll write you a check for one thousand right now. Of course, I still intend to subpoena your”—he narrowed his eyes and squinted at me—“operatives, as you call them. But”—he pointed his finger at me—“she better be licensed by then!”

  The phone began to ring. Mark frowned, then headed out into the hallway to answer it. I wondered if it was a sympathy call. I wondered if he had told anyone about his wife’s death. His voice was too low to hear what he was saying.

  Jimmy G sat down again, leaned back, and crossed his legs. He seemed pretty proud of himself. “See how it’s done, doll?” he asked.

  Mark slammed down the phone and reentered the living room. He was obviously shaken. His face was pale, his eyes frozen.

  “That was the county sheriff,” he said.

  I nodded. “Sheriff Pager,” I said.

  Mark gave me a sharp look. “Yes, Sheriff Pager. He says my wife was murdered.” He threw the word at me like an accusation.

  I was taken aback. “Really? Murdered?”

  “Yes, the good news is that they already have a suspect in custody.”

  “No!” I said, thinking of my sister.

  Mark looked at me with narrowed eyes. “Did you know this?”

  I shook my head, momentarily unable to speak.

  “Tell you what we’ll do,” said Jimmy G, going over to Mark and draping his arm around the other man’s shoulders. “My operatives here will go back up there and investigate this murder.”

  “Sounds like the sheriff already has it wrapped up,” said Mark.

  “Can’t be too careful,” said Jimmy G. “My associates have an inside track. Sheriff doesn’t have that.”

  Mark looked uncertain.

  “Of course, we’ll have to charge extra,” Jimmy G said. “For hazard pay. Can’t be sending my operatives into danger without additional compensation.”

  “How about twelve percent commission on the settlement?” asked Mark.

  “Fifteen percent,” countered Jimmy G.

  They finally settled at fourteen percent.

  As we walked away from the house, I said to Jimmy G, “We came here to get one thousand dollars and we’re leaving with nothing but a promise. I don’t see how that was so effective.”

  “Hey,” said my boss, “we came here to get one thousand dollars and we’re leaving with the potential of making . . .” He paused and scratched his head. “What’s fourteen percent of one million?”

  “It’s a gamble, boss. That’s what it is. And the odds are against us,” I said as we piled into Jimmy G’s
car, a red Thunderbird convertible from the sixties.

  “Those are the kind of odds that Jimmy G likes,” he said as he revved up the engine. It sounded like it needed a muffler. “You don’t get the big payoffs without some risks.”

  “No wonder he is broke,” Pepe said.

  “So you gotta get yourself back up to that cult and start digging,” Jimmy G said as he pulled into traffic.

  “I am good at digging,” said Pepe.

  “You don’t have a problem with that, do you?” Jimmy G asked me. Before I could answer, he said, “Sure, they’re a bunch of weirdoes and it could be dangerous—Jimmy G knows that. But that’s the nature of the private dick business. Sometimes you just gotta put your neck on the line.”

  “Sí. Our necks, not his,” said Pepe.

  “No problem, boss,” I said. “We want to catch whoever did it as badly as anybody.”

  “We?” asked the boss, glancing over at me. Pepe was sitting on my lap. “Oh, yeah, you and the rat-dog. He’s a regular Sherlock Chihuahua.”

  “You would make a terrible Watson,” Pepe told Jimmy G.

  “OK,” I said. “We’ll head back up there first thing tomorrow.” I wanted to find out what I could about Terry. Was she the suspect?

  “Copacetic,” said my boss. “Jimmy G will come up, too. Establish a base camp so you can make regular reports.”

  “I hope we don’t have to join the cult, though.”

  “What? Are you nuts?”

  “The introductory weekend is almost over,” I explained. “If we can’t figure out who killed Tammy by tomorrow night, we might have to join the Dogawandans to stay at the Center after that.”

  “Oh,” said Jimmy G. “Do what you have to. Just don’t start believing you have to worship a dog.”

  “She already does,” Pepe told him. “Moi.”

  Chapter 17

  “It can’t be my sister!” I said to Pepe as we were driving home. “It can’t be my sister!”

  Pepe said nothing, which was highly unusual.

  “You think she did it?” I asked him.

  “I do not know your sister,” he said.