Dogged by Death Page 3

  Roxy was growling low in her throat, her gaze locked on the two vehicles.

  “It’s okay, girl.” Ally patted the boxer’s head.

  Turning back to the guy she assumed was the detective, her jaw dropped as she recognized the former quarterback of the Willow Bluff high school football team.

  Noah Jorgenson.

  Her insides fluttered, but she attributed that insane reaction to the stress of stumbling upon the victim of a murder. Noah’s eyes widened with awareness, and she was surprised to realize he recognized her, too.

  “Hey, Hot—I mean, Ally.” He glanced at the squad parked at the side of the road, then turned back to her. “I heard you were back in town.”

  “Noah.” She narrowed her gaze to let him know the Hot Pants nickname needed to stop right here, right now. Noah was dressed in black dress slacks and a navy blue shirt, and she found herself keenly aware of the woodsy scent of his aftershave. “This is Roxy.”

  He lifted a brow and looked down at the dog standing at her side, still growling. Noah glanced at the squad, then scowled. He walked over, tapped the window and leaned down. “Officer Roberts, I need you to secure the scene.”

  “In a minute, as soon as I finish this call.” The cop sounded disgruntled.

  “Hurry up.” Noah backed away and came back to where Ally and Roxy waited.

  Was it her imagination or was there an undertone of tension between the two men? Not that it was any of her business.

  “You found the body?” Noah asked.

  “Yes.” She shivered and glanced at Roxy who continued to growl. “Really, the dog did.”

  He glanced again at the growling dog. “She doesn’t bite, does she?”

  “No.” At least, Ally didn’t think so.

  “Okay, stay here, I need to go inside.”

  She gave a jerky nod. Noah and the cop went inside the house together. While waiting, she decided to take Roxy for a mini-walk up and down Appletree Lane. The animal finally stopped growling as they moved away from the crime scene. The cop must have stayed inside, because only Noah returned, approaching with a serious expression carved in his face. “I need you to start at the beginning. Why are you here?”

  “Marty Shawlin stopped by the clinic yesterday. He paid me to walk Roxy each day at noon for the week. Today was my first day. He gave me the garage code, and when I went inside, I knew from the smell something was wrong. After I let Roxy out of her crate, she ran straight to Marty.”

  “How well did you know the deceased?”

  “I didn’t.” Should she mention Marty’s visit to the Legacy House? She decided to stick to answering Noah’s questions. “I never spoke to him until yesterday, when he came to the clinic to hire me as a dog walker.”

  “What time did he come to your clinic?”

  She frowned at his question. “Five thirty, why? Does it matter?”

  “I need to understand his actions prior to this event.”

  “The event?” She shivered. “It’s a murder, isn’t it? The paperweight shaped like a globe didn’t hit him in the head by accident.”

  Noah sighed heavily. “I prefer not to leap to conclusions. How about you leave the investigating to me, okay? I just need you to answer my questions. Now, what time did you arrive here at the house.”

  “Around noon, maybe a few minutes early.” She gestured toward Main Street. “I walked from the Furry Friends clinic.”

  He took note of the current time, and then jotted something in a notebook. She craned her neck in an attempt to see what he’d written down, but he was too far away.

  “What did you touch when you were inside?”

  She had to think about that. “The garage keypad, the door handle coming in and going out, the crate, Roxy’s leash. Oh, and I checked Marty for a pulse.”

  “That’s all?”

  “Yes.” It was more than enough. “Marty mentioned Roxy belongs to his ex-wife, who is out of town for the week. Any chance you could track her down for me? I mean, I can take Roxy in temporarily, but I just adopted an asthmatic stray cat.”

  “I’ll do my best. How can I reach you?”

  Again, her heart gave a betraying thump. Ridiculous reaction. You’re through with men, remember? Especially Noah, who was one of the football players who’d laughed at her when she’d jumped into Lake Michigan to drown the biting fire ants that had crawled up her shorts. Best to keep her distance. Noah was a detective with a job to do. She was nothing more than a reluctant witness.

  Too bad Roxy couldn’t talk; the boxer could likely point out the murderer in a heartbeat. Ally recited her cell number. “Any calls coming into the clinic are automatically forwarded to my cell too.”

  “Okay, thanks.” Noah slid his notebook into his pocket. “I appreciate your cooperation.”

  “Of course.” She glanced down at Roxy again. “I don’t suppose you could bring her crate out for me, along with her dishes and whatever food and treats might be in there.”

  The words were barely out of her mouth when Noah shook his head. “Nothing goes out until we finish processing the crime scene.”

  Yeah, that’s what she’d thought. Although it seemed silly. The murderer had obviously been after legal paperwork, as evidenced by the open contents of Marty’s briefcase, which had nothing to do with dog food or a crate. Noah walked up to the house, leaving her and Roxy standing on the sidewalk.

  Stifling a sigh, she looked down at Roxy. “Okay, girl. I’ll take you to my place. You’ll have to be nice to Pepper, understand?”

  Roxy glanced up at her, then back toward the street as if anxious to go. The boxer stopped frequently to sniff various scents during their walk back to the clinic. As Ally brought the animal up to her apartment, she braced herself for the inevitable confrontation.

  Roxy barked. Pepper jumped off the sofa, arching her back and hissing with annoyance. Ally hoped all this excitement didn’t bring on another asthma attack.

  “Easy, Pepper, be nice. Roxy, you too. Both of you are in need of a temporary home.”

  Pepper swiped at Ally’s jeans-clad leg, her sharp claws raking the denim, then ran off toward her bedroom, no doubt searching for a spot to hide. Roxy sniffed the floor of her apartment, clearly following Pepper’s scent. Then Roxy let out several loud barks.

  “Shh. Not so loud.” Roxy looked at her, tilting her brown face inquisitively. Should Ally take one of the animals down to the clinic to board them? It wasn’t as if she didn’t have the room—she did. Yet keeping them boarded up didn’t sit well with her.

  Not when they’d both been recently traumatized.

  Heck, she had been traumatized too. Never in her life had she seen a dead body up close. Animals? Yes. Humans? No.

  She headed down to the clinic to get dog dishes and food. When she returned, things seemed relatively calm. Roxy met her eagerly at the door.

  “I’m here, girl. Everything’s fine.” Once she gave Roxy a treat, she checked on Pepper.

  The cat was still hiding under her bed. Ally stretched out on the floor and peered at the feline. “You okay, Pepper? How’s your breathing?”

  Pepper didn’t answer, but her breathing sounded normal. Ally stood and sighed. So far, so good. Deciding to leave the bedroom door open this time, she returned to the clinic for her afternoon appointment.

  In reviewing Maurice’s file, she learned the spaniel was due for the rest of his annual shots, too. Ally prepared those doses along with the rabies shot, which was only given every three years.

  When Paula arrived, she glanced around the vacant clinic with open curiosity.

  “Hi, Maurice.” Ally focused her attention on the animal. “This way, please. So I see from Dr. Hanson’s records that Maurice is also due for his annual coronavirus, leptospirosis, and parvovirus vaccinations next month as well. It would be cheaper to give them all today and save you another trip.”

  “Oh, uh, sure. That will be fine.” Paula seemed flustered as if she hadn’t realized she’d had immunizations
scheduled a month apart. Had the woman made it a practice to make frequent visits to the vet on purpose, as a way to get Greg Hanson’s attention? Ally estimated Paula to be in her early sixties, not far from Hanson’s age, and wondered again if she’d had some sort of personal relationship with the former veterinarian.

  Not her business one way or the other.

  Maurice tolerated the injections better than Pepper had. When she was finished, Ally walked Paula out to the front desk.

  She’d half expected Paula to balk at paying the fee, but the woman didn’t blink and thankfully the charge went through on her credit card without a problem.

  Feeling encouraged, Ally cleaned up the exam room, then decided to take Roxy out to visit her grandfather. Harriet didn’t like it when she brought animals over, but it was nice enough outside that she and Gramps could sit on the patio.

  Besides, she wanted to tell him about Marty Shawlin’s murder. Not just because he loved hearing about crimes, but because she knew that Noah would eventually stop by to visit Lydia and Gramps at the Legacy House.

  Better that Gramps be prepared ahead of time.

  “Hey, Roxy, ready to go for a walk?”

  The W word sent Roxy into a tailspin, making Ally laugh. This was why she loved animals. They were always happy, which in turn made her happy.

  Ally hoped that taking Roxy out for a bit would encourage Pepper to come out of hiding long enough to eat some food. She checked her phone, hoping to have a message from Noah about Marty’s ex-wife, but no such luck. Was he still out on Appletree Lane, processing the crime scene? It was tempting to swing by to sneak a peek.

  At the crime scene. Not at Noah.

  After walking Roxy up and down Main Street, Ally opened the back hatch of her Honda so the dog could jump in. The Legacy House was a ten-minute ride. Roxy pressed her nose against the wire crate in an attempt to sniff the air. Ally grinned. The boxer was a great dog. Under different circumstances she wouldn’t mind having one just like her. She and Tim had planned to get a new puppy after their wedding, had even purchased the wire partition for the back of her car, but that had obviously never happened.

  Now, taking in a dog permanently wouldn’t be fair to Pepper. The poor thing was barely tolerating Roxy.

  She pulled into the driveway, Roxy shaking her entire body with excitement, eager to explore her new surroundings. Holding tightly to Roxy’s leash, Ally approached the door.

  Tillie was the one who answered her knock. “Ally, what a nice surprise.” Her gaze dropped to Roxy. “Harriet is going to pitch a fit if she sees that dog.”

  “I know the rules.” Ally peered beyond Tillie to the interior of the house. “Tell Gramps to meet me outside on the patio, okay?”

  “Sure, dear. Oscar?” Tillie shouted at the top of her lungs. “Ally’s here with a dog! Meet her out back.”

  “Eh? What did you say?” Ally could hear Gramps clumping through the house with his walker. “All I need is a frog attack?”

  “No. Ally is here with a dog! Meet her out back!”

  Good grief. Roxy whined under her breath, no doubt her ears hurting from all the shouting. “Easy, girl. It’s okay.”

  “Ally.” Gramps’ crabby expression cleared when he saw her. Today his shirt was green rather than blue. “Come in.”

  “Harriet will pitch a fit,” Tillie warned.

  “Gramps, meet me out on the back patio, okay?” She didn’t want to upset Harriet; besides, it would be easier to talk to him without the widows overhearing every word.

  “Okay. But I live here too, and can visit with a strange dog if I want to.”

  Ally shook her head good-naturedly as she led Roxy around to the back patio and waited for Gramps to make his way through the house. When he appeared at the patio doors, she placed her arm under his to assist him down the single step. Then she grabbed his walker and brought that outside.

  “Hrmph.” Gramps dropped into the closest patio chair. “Since when does Harriet rule the roost?”

  “It’s okay, some people don’t like dogs. I don’t get it myself, but whatever.” She wrapped Roxy’s leash around the arm of her chair and sat beside Gramps. “I wanted to talk to you in private, anyway.”

  “It’s about that dead lawyer isn’t it?”

  She stared at him in shock. “How did you know?”

  A sly grin creased his features. “Lydia got a call from Anita Jones, who saw the police outside Marty’s house.”

  “Who’s Anita Jones?”

  Gramps waved a hand. “Haven’t you been paying attention? Anita is the one who suggested Lydia should meet with Marty to change her will into a trust. Anita lives two houses down from Marty.”

  Ally was pretty sure Gramps hadn’t mentioned Anita the first time but nodded anyway. “Okay, so she saw the police, but how did she know he’d died?”

  Gramps scoffed. “The coroner’s van came to pick up the body. Who else would it be?”

  “I see. Well, I’m the one who found him.”

  “You?” Gramps’ eyes widened in surprise. “Anita didn’t say anything about seeing you there.”

  At least she had something new to share with him. After Ally explained about walking Roxy and finding Marty Shawlin with his head bashed in from a glass and marble globe, her grandfather’s expression turned thoughtful.

  “I knew he was up to no good. I wonder who else he tried to swindle?”

  “Gramps, helping someone write a will or create a trust isn’t exactly swindling.”

  “It is if he’s charging people money to do something they don’t need. Maybe he even includes himself in the trust, did you think of that?”

  “I doubt anyone would let him do such a thing,” she protested.

  “They may not notice. You know how difficult it is to get through all that legal mumbo jumbo.” Gramps absently reached out to pet Roxy. “Besides, I think there’s more to the story.”

  “I ran into Noah Jorgenson. He’s a detective for the Willow Bluff Police Department.”

  Gramps frowned. “I vaguely remember that name. Didn’t you go out with him back in high school?”

  She blushed, hoping he wouldn’t notice. “No, never. He dated the cheerleaders, not science nerds like me.” Especially one who started a fire in the chemistry lab and then sat on a nest of fire ants. “But I wanted to warn you that he’s investigating Marty’s murder.”

  “Warn me? Why?” Gramps spread his hands. “All I did was to kick Marty out of here.”

  “Yeah, well, Noah might have questions for you and Lydia. Try not to draw too much attention to yourself.”

  Gramps feigned innocence. “Who, me?” He paused, then frowned. “Tell me again how you found him?”

  Ally repeated what she’d told Noah. “I entered the garage code and went inside. Poor Roxy was barking like crazy, then she bowled me over to go find him.” She rubbed Roxy’s soft pelt. “If only you could talk, huh, girl? I bet you’d find whoever did this without a problem.”

  Roxy rested her chin on Ally’s knee, enjoying the attention.

  “I’m surprised you didn’t notice his car sitting in the garage, since that’s how you entered the house. That would have been an indication that he was still home.” Gramps idly tapped his fingers on the arm of the patio chair.

  She straightened. “It wasn’t in the garage.”

  “It wasn’t?” Gramps blue eyes gleamed. “Maybe the murderer took it.”

  “Why would he—”

  “—or she,” Gramps interjected.

  “—do something like that? For what purpose?” She could have smacked herself for not thinking about the missing car earlier. Should she call Noah to let him know?

  “Maybe the murderer walked there and wanted a quick getaway. Anyone seeing Marty’s car leaving would assume it was the lawyer behind the wheel, rather than the killer.”

  Gramps’ theory made sense. Before she could say anything more, Roxy lifted her head and began to bark. Ally swiveled in her chair, looking for wha
tever had caught the boxer’s attention.

  “There you are.” Noah’s tone was terse as he rounded the corner of the Legacy House. “Mr. Winter? I need a moment of your time.”

  “Wait, why?” Ally jumped to her feet, standing protectively near her grandfather. “What’s going on?”

  Noah’s gaze narrowed. “You should have told me your grandfather had an argument with the deceased, Ally. I spoke to Anita Jones, Shawlin’s neighbor, who heard about it from someone named Lydia. Withholding evidence in a murder investigation is a crime.”

  “He didn’t have an argument with Marty,” she protested.

  “Yes, I did.” Gramps struggled to his feet, leaning heavily on his walker. If she didn’t know any better she’d think her grandfather relished the thought of being a murder suspect. “Before I talk to you, I need to call my lawyer.”

  Noah’s mouth dropped open in surprise, then he scowled. “Why? You have something to hide?”

  Gramps scowled, too. “It’s my right, isn’t it?”

  “Fine, you do that, Mr. Winter. You get yourself a lawyer and meet me down at the station.”

  “I will,” Gramps shot back. “I’m an old man, I’ll need an hour.”

  The two men—decades between them—exchanged ominous glares. Finally, Noah Jorgenson muttered something incomprehensible under his breath, turned, and crossed the yard, leaving just a hint of his woodsy aftershave behind.

  Ally dropped her head in her hands. What in the world was Gramps doing? Being under suspicion of murder was no picnic.

  No way was she letting him go to the station alone. Lawyer or no lawyer, she was going with him.

  Someone had to keep her grandfather from being tossed in jail.

  Chapter Four

  Ally dropped Roxy off at her apartment before driving Gramps to the police station. He’d used the phone in the clinic to make calls while she was taking care of the dog. When she’d returned, he was sitting with his arms folded across his chest, his expression mulish. “Come on, Gramps, let’s get going.”