Tailing Trouble Read online

  Tailing Trouble

  A FURRY FRIENDS MYSTERY

  Laura Scott

  This book is dedicated to my amazing siblings, Joan LeRose, Michele Glynn and Michael Wanke. I hope this series honors the memories of our grandparents!

  Acknowledgments

  As always, a book needs tender loving care from an amazing team of people. Thanks to Pamela Hopkins for believing in my idea for this Furry Friends series. Also, a special thanks to the team at Crooked Lane Books especially my editor Faith Black Ross, her editorial and production associate Melissa Rechter, production and editorial assistant Rebecca Nelson and marketing associate Madeline Rathle. You’ve all helped make this book the best possible!

  For veterinary medicine insights, I’ve used a variety of sources, including Dr. Elaine Binor of Wauwatosa Veterinary Services. I appreciate all your help and insight.

  A quick shout out to my critique group: Lori Handeland, Olivia Rae and Pam Ford. I enjoy our wine and pizza brainstorming sessions very much.

  Lastly, I’d like to thank my husband Scott for his unwavering support as I live my dream!

  Chapter One

  Veterinary doctor Ally Winter held Roxy’s leash firmly as she knocked at the door of the Legacy House. The Lannon stone ranch had been transformed into an assisted-living residence, and her grandfather had been living there for the past five months after breaking his hip and requiring surgery back in April. The house was located on Legacy Drive in Willow Bluff, Wisconsin, a small town on the shore of Lake Michigan.

  “Good morning, Ally.” Harriet Lehman, a rectangle-shaped woman who liked to wear flowery dresses over sturdy support hose and boxy black shoes, greeted her with a wide smile, which dimmed when she saw Roxy the boxer at Ally’s side. “Oh, you brought the dog. Oscar is just finishing breakfast.” She hesitated, then reluctantly asked, “Would you like to come in?”

  “Thanks, Harriet, we won’t stay long.” Harriet was one of the Willow Bluff widows, or WBWs, as Gramps liked to call them. Harriet and her sister Tillie shared the large master suite, while Lydia and Gramps each had their own room.

  The Legacy House was owned by Beatrice Potter, who made sure the place was well stocked with food for Harriet to cook and managed the cleaning and utility payments. All the widows and Gramps had to do was pay their monthly stipend and find a way to get along.

  The latter was often easier said than done.

  “Hey, Ally.” Her grandfather greeted her from his spot at the kitchen table with a wide smile. He was tall, about six feet in his prime but having lost a few inches along the way, with a lean frame. Gramps normally wore khaki slacks, either tan, gray, or black, and a button-down short-sleeved shirt with a white T-shirt underneath. In the winter he’d switch to long-sleeved flannel shirts, but never once had Ally seen him in jeans. Today he wore a short-sleeved shirt, as summer temperatures had lingered into the first week of September.

  “Hi, Gramps.” Ally gave him a quick kiss on his temple. Roxy greeted him with a lick and a snuggle.

  “Would you like some breakfast?” He grinned. “I’m sure Harriet has extra to spare.”

  “I do,” Harriet said with a nod, her tight gray curls barely moving with the gesture.

  “No, that’s okay. I already ate.” Ally did her best to resist temptation, even though she had eaten her measly bowl of oatmeal two hours ago already, as Roxy was an early riser. Still, she’d learned to minimize how much of Harriet’s cooking she sampled. Her jeans fit at the moment, but she knew just how easily that could change after a few days of eating at the Legacy House. She rested her hand on Roxy’s head. “Ready to go?”

  “Yep.” Gramps swiped his mouth with a napkin. “Thanks again, Harriet.”

  The widow beamed. “You’re welcome, Oscar.”

  Ally knew each of the three WBWs was doing her best to snag her grandfather as a potential husband. Harriet figured the way to Gramps’s heart was through his stomach, which might be the best path, considering his voracious sweet tooth. But Lydia was constantly knitting him things, while Tillie kept him entertained playing cribbage and poker.

  Gramps insisted their efforts were for naught, as he’d always love his wife, Amelia, despite her passing two years ago. Gramps and Granny had been married fifty-five years, and Gramps claimed there was no replacing her. Ally knew Gramps was lonely without Amelia, and she had moved back to Willow Bluff to be there for him.

  Both Tillie and Lydia, along with Gramps, had taken to volunteering as receptionists at her Furry Friends veterinary clinic three days a week. She appreciated their help, since she wasn’t making quite enough money to hire a veterinary technician, much less a receptionist.

  “Are you finished cleaning already?” Tillie asked in a loud, sarcastic tone. Ally glanced over. The voices were coming from the hallway, where the three bedrooms were located.

  “Yes, I am.” The defiant response came from a youthful voice. “The place is clean, and don’t you dare tell my mother or Beatrice otherwise.”

  Before Ally could ask what was going on, a young woman with bright-purple hair sticking out of her head at odd angles, a lip ring, and an eyebrow piercing emerged from the living room carrying a bucket of cleaning supplies. Pricilla Green was twenty-one but acted younger, or maybe it was the permanent scowl etched on her face that made her look like a petulant child.

  “Hey, Pricilla, how are you?” Ally asked with a smile.

  “What do you care?” Pricilla wore a cropped blue-and-white-striped top that revealed her belly button ring, paired with bright-green skintight short shorts and three-inch red-and-white polka-dotted heels. Wow. Talk about interesting cleaning attire. The girl was lucky she hadn’t broken her neck cleaning the bathrooms in those shoes.

  Then again, maybe she hadn’t bothered cleaning the bathroom.

  “I’m telling your mother you were only here for two hours instead of three,” Tillie called after Pricilla’s retreating form.

  “Go ahead! I hate this job.” Pricilla brushed past Ally, the front door banging shut behind her.

  Ally craned her neck to watch as Pricilla tossed the cleaning bucket in the back seat of a beat-up, rusty brown Dodge and climbed in. Within seconds, the girl had punched the accelerator and spun away.

  “She’s something,” Ally said.

  “Yeah, like useless,” Tillie snapped. “I think her mother and Beatrice should be told what a loser that girl is.”

  Like Pricilla’s mother couldn’t figure that out for herself? Ally had to assume that Pricilla’s mother, Hilda Green, who happened to be the Willow Bluff city executive, had asked Beatrice to give her daughter the cleaning job in the first place, but whatever. Ally was staying out of it. “Time for us to go, Gramps. I have a grooming appointment at ten.” She frowned, then added, “The one for which you didn’t write down the name of the owner or the dog.”

  “I know, I know. Sorry about that.” He reached for his cane, and Ally put a hand beneath his arm to help him stand.

  “Don’t forget your library book, Oscar,” Lydia called from the living room.

  Wednesday was Gramps’s day to help at the clinic. They’d gotten into the routine of stopping at the library over the lunch hour so her grandfather could get the latest true-crime book.

  Ever since he’d helped solve the murder mystery that had rocked Willow Bluff a few months ago, he’d become even more obsessed with true crime, religiously watching shows like Dateline and 48 Hours.

  Ally wished he’d find a different hobby, but so far he’d resisted every suggestion she’d thrown at him.

  “Hold Roxy’s leash for a minute,” Ally said. She walked into the living room to grab the library book from the end table next to Lydia. The woman was knitting what looked to be another sweater for Gramps in yet another shade of blue to match his eyes. Eyes Ally had inherited from him. “Looks great, Lydia.”

  “Thank you, dear.” She smiled sweetly. “This one is for you.”

  Ally tried not to look horrified. “Oh, Lydia, you don’t have to do that.”

  “Tsk, tsk. It’s my pleasure, dear. Anything for Oscar’s granddaughter.”

  “Well, thanks.” Ally summoned a smile, then quickly returned to the kitchen. That was a new one, although she’d always sensed that the widows were exceptionally nice to her in hopes of swaying her grandfather’s attention in their favor.

  What was she going to do with a knitted sweater?

  Wear it? The very thought made her feel itchy.

  Ally tucked Gramps’s book under her arm and took Roxy’s leash. Gramps made his way outside to her ancient Honda Civic hatchback. When she had him safely tucked into the passenger seat, she placed Roxy in the crated area, then slid in behind the wheel.

  “What else is on the Furry Friends schedule for the day?” Gramps asked.

  “Remember Domino? The black standard poodle I groomed a few months ago? His owner is dropping him off later this afternoon to be boarded through the weekend.”

  “Good for you.”

  “Yeah.” Ally flashed him a sidelong glance. “The tough part will be keeping him and Roxy separated. They get a little out of control when playing together.” And she had a cracked window in the clinic to prove it. “But I’m happy to have him. Business has been lagging the past few weeks, so having a boarder for a few days will be a lifesaver.”

  “Don’t worry, business will pick up again,” Gramps assured her.

  “I know.” At least she hoped so. Relocating to Willow Bluff from Madison had started out rocky. In Madison, she’d had a th
riving business until her former veterinary partner and fiancé, Tim Mathai, embezzled from the Mathai-Winter Veterinary Clinic they’d jointly owned. She hadn’t realized what Tim had done until it was too late. He’d taken all the money out of their joint business account and fled the country with Trina, the young, blonde, and buxom veterinary assistant he’d been sleeping with on the side, leaving Ally with a building that was mortgaged to the hilt and a pile of prewedding debt. She’d managed to salvage just enough money from her personal home to buy the new veterinary business here in Willow Bluff, the town she’d grown up in.

  At first, the citizens of Willow Bluff had lamented the retirement of Greg Hanson, the former vet. And Ally knew part of the problem had been that she’d returned home under scandalous circumstances. But over time, the townsfolk’s memories of Ally as a high school Calamity Jane had faded and her business had picked up.

  To be honest, even though she wasn’t making a lot of money over and above her living expenses, Ally preferred running the business herself, accounting for every nickel, dime, and penny she earned. Ally had learned to groom dogs while working summers in college, which meant she could offer grooming, dog walking, and boarding services in addition to being a veterinarian.

  Her motto remained No job too small!

  Ally pulled into the driveway in the rear of the clinic and parked. She helped Gramps stand and let Roxy out the back of the Civic. After allowing the dog a quick bathroom break, she unlocked the clinic and held the door open for Gramps.

  Gramps thumped his cane as he entered the building, crossing over to take his position in the chair behind the counter.

  Glancing at her watch, Ally estimated that she had about twenty minutes before her grooming appointment was scheduled to arrive. She put Roxy up in the apartment upstairs, then returned to the main lobby, pulling on her lab coat. “Can I get you anything, Gramps? Water? Coffee?”

  “Nah. That’ll just make me have to pee more than I do already.” He sounded cranky, and she knew he hated the physical limitations that plagued him. “By the way, did you hear about the robbery last weekend?”

  Robbery? Oh no. She wasn’t going down this crime-solving path with him. Not again.

  “Stop.” She lifted a hand. “I don’t want to hear about it, Gramps. I’m sure the Willow Bluff Police have everything under control.”

  He let out a snort. “Hardly. That detective of yours didn’t even know that those security video cameras had been tampered with, enabling the robbers to steal stuff over the course of several days. What kind of police work is that, I ask you? Why hasn’t your detective figured out that the jokers robbing the joint had insider information?”

  Ally strove for patience. Just because she and Detective Noah Jorgenson had been on exactly one date—a double date with two old high school friends almost three months ago—didn’t mean they were a couple. As her grandfather knew very well.

  And considering that Gramps couldn’t even use his cell phone properly and was always screaming into her ear, she felt certain he wouldn’t know the first thing about robbers tampering with video feeds.

  He didn’t know a computer chip from a potato chip.

  “Gramps, you know from past experience Noah isn’t going to share information about an ongoing investigation. We need to stay out of it.”

  “Bah.” Gramps waved a hand. “He should share information with us, since it’s clear he needs help. Take that girlie Pricilla Green. Did you notice how she was dressed? If that girl isn’t an inside source leaking information to crooks, I’ll eat my cribbage board.”

  Ally tried not to roll her eyes. “Pricilla doesn’t work at the store, Gramps. I’ve seen her coming out of the café. I’m sure she isn’t an inside source for a robbery ring.” At least, she didn’t think so. It didn’t seem likely that the young woman was either savvy enough to create a fake video feed or smart enough to know which information to give out to crooks. Ally patted his arm. “The purple hair, facial piercings, and wild clothes are just her way of embarrassing her mother.”

  “It’s working. Hilda Green revels in her position as the city executive and despises the way her daughter looks. According to the rumor mill, she has no use for Pricilla’s boyfriend, Jake Hammond, either.” Gramps shrugged. “I still think they’re involved in the robbery ring. Who wears three-inch heels to clean a house?”

  “I don’t know, maybe she had a hot date with Jake and didn’t want to take time to change.” It was a lame excuse, considering it had been too early in the morning for a hot date, but she wanted to distract Gramps. Especially since she didn’t see how wearing three-inch red-and-white polka-dotted heels was an indication of criminal activity. “Don’t even think about trying to investigate the robbery.”

  “Who, me?” As usual, Gramps tried and failed to look innocent.

  She narrowed her gaze. “Yes, you. Don’t forget what happened last time. Noah was close to throwing both of us in jail for interfering in his murder investigation.”

  “He was bluffing.” Gramps sounded certain, but she wasn’t convinced.

  The veterinary clinic door opened. Ally turned, expecting to see her grooming appointment, but instead a frazzled-looking woman stood there, holding the leash of a pretty yellow Lab.

  “I need to talk to Dr. Hanson right away! It’s an emergency!”

  It had been a while since anyone had mentioned Greg Hanson. Ally stepped forward with a smile. “I’m Dr. Ally Winter. Why don’t you tell me what’s going on?”

  “Where’s Dr. Hanson?”

  She stifled a sigh. “St. Pete’s Beach, Florida. I’m Dr. Winter. How can I help you?”

  “But … I’ve always met with Dr. Hanson.” The woman looked to be in her late fifties, had obviously dyed red hair, and was sniffling as if she was about to cry. “Puddles knows Dr. Hanson. He doesn’t know you.”

  Ally looked down at the yellow Lab, who limply wagged his tail in greeting, clearly not looking perky. “What happened to Puddles?”

  “He ate a bunch of chocolate.”

  Not good. “Come into room number one so I can examine him.”

  “Okay,” the woman agreed tearfully. She took a few steps forward, glancing around the empty clinic with a frown. “Are you sure Dr. Hanson isn’t able to help?”

  From St. Pete’s Beach? Seriously? “Yes, I’m sure.” She turned toward Gramps. “Keep an eye out for my mystery grooming appointment.”

  “Will do.”

  “Let’s get Puddles up on the table, shall we?” Ally did her best to exude confidence. She took a moment to let the dog sniff her before quickly scooping him up and onto the table. “Do you have any idea how much chocolate Puddles ate?”

  “Lots,” the woman answered.

  It was all Ally could do not to roll her eyes. “Can you be more specific? Chocolate is toxic, and the amount of chocolate Puddles ingested will determine how I treat him.”

  The woman blushed. “He jumped up on the table when I wasn’t looking and ate two entire bags of semisweet chocolate chips.”

  “I see.” Semisweet chocolate had a lot of theobromine, which was very poisonous to dogs. And two bags was enough to require a dose of activated charcoal given through a tube into the stomach, much like how people were treated for drug overdoses. Messy, yes, but highly successful.

  “Let’s take a listen, shall we?” Ally used her stethoscope to listen to Puddles’s heart. It was beating faster than normal, an indication that the chocolate and theobromine were already being absorbed into his bloodstream. She removed the stethoscope from her ears. “Okay, I’m going to need to give Puddles something to counteract the poison in his system. I need you to hold him for a moment so I can give him something to help him relax.”

  “Oh dear, poor Puddles.” The redhead wrapped her arms around the yellow Lab’s neck and buried her face against his fur. “I love you. You’re going to be okay.”

  Ally took advantage of the moment, using a hypodermic to inject a mild sedative into the animal’s hindquarters. Puddles yelped but quieted quickly.

  “Hey, I wasn’t ready.” The woman lifted her head and glared at Ally. “Dr. Hanson would never have done that until we were both ready.”

  Ally could feel her smile slipping away. “I’m sorry, but I’ve always found that creating a distraction works beautifully. Look, Puddles is already beginning to relax.”