“Why is my wife drunk?”
“What?”
She heard Darla’s voice somewhere in the background. “I’m not drunk, I’m happy!”
Frank sighed. “Nevermind. Got a suspect?”
“Not exactly. Dr. Powers said an older lady brought the puppy in, took a phone call, and then disappeared, leaving it behind in the waiting room.”
“Took a call? You think someone warned her we had the other dogs?”
“That was my thought. Though if it was one of the other Pineapple Port ladies who warned her, wouldn’t she have absconded with the dog? Not left it behind?”
Frank began to speak, only to be drowned out by Darla’s voice. It sounded as if she had her face pressed against his cheek. “Let me talk to her. Let me talk to her. Come on, come on, come on…”
“Hold on, I’m getting the idea Darla wants to talk to you. Good luck.”
“Hi Charlotte,” said Darla, her Tennessee accent four times thicker than normal. The word hi sounded as if it had fifteen syllables in it.
“Hi Darla. What happened to you? You sound like you ate Dolly Parton and washed her down with a bottle of Jack.”
“Limoncello happened to me. It’s delicioush. Have you had it?”
“I think so. I think Tilly makes it sometimes...”
“Yesh! That’s exactly what I wanted to tell you.”
“That Tilly made limoncello?”
“No, she gave me a picture of the puppy person.”
“Who?”
“The person passing out puppies. Peck of pickled peppers. She had it on her cameras.”
“Oh, can you see who it is?”
“No. He’s wearing a doggy mask.” Darla began to giggle. “At least we hope he’s wearing a dog mask. That’s what we said. Because if he really looks like that—”
“I get it. But you said he. You can tell it’s a man?”
Darla fell silent.
“Darla?”
“Huh? What were we talking about?’
“You can tell the person in the video is a man?”
“Oh, right. No, now that you mention it. I assumed it was but it doesn’t have to be.”
“Okay. I’ll talk to Tilly. Thank you.”
“We didn’t find the puppy, though...”
“I did. It’s okay.”
“Oh. That’s good. We mebbe spent too long a spell at Tilly’s.”
“Got it. No problem.”
Frank’s voice returned. “I’m looking at the picture Tilly printed out for them now. It’s a little blurry. Can’t tell much, but I think it’s a woman. You’d probably tell better from the original.”
“I’ll check in with Tilly.”
Frank grunted. “Fine. I’ll be here feeding coffee to my wife. Tell her thanks for this mess.”
Chapter Twelve
Charlotte called Tilly next, and once they finally stopped laughing about Darla, Tilly let her know the way the figure in the poodle mask moved on the video told her it was a woman. Average height and not terribly buxom, but Tilly felt sure it wasn’t a man.
“I went in to check the tapes and by the time I came back, half the limoncello was gone. I’ll have to make another batch,” added Tilly, chuckling.
“That stuff is like high-test candy. You should have warned them.”
“I didn’t know Darla would go bonkers on it.”
“Can you tell Poodle-Face’s age?”
“She’s moving pretty fluidly. I wouldn’t say old.”
“Can you track her? See where else she went? Maybe catch a glimpse of her car?”
“Darla gave me the list of people who got dogs, and I have her near several of those houses, but I only have a shot of her on the doorstep of Katherine’s. Can’t narrow it down beyond that. My cameras aren’t pointed at individual doors and there isn’t any car activity around that time. I think she might have parked somewhere outside the neighborhood.”
“Okay. I have the sixth puppy, but the description of the person who brought it into the vet was an older woman.”
Tilly snorted. “That narrows it down.”
“That’s exactly what I said. Well, thank you. I might swing by and check out those videos if you can keep them handy.”
“Will do. Don’t tell Darla I’m making more limoncello.”
“I won’t. Frank would kill me.”
Tilly continued laughing as she hung up the phone.
Before Charlotte could pull from the veterinarian’s parking lot, her phone rang. It was Declan, calling from the Hock o’ Bell.
“Hello, handsome,” she answered.
“I hope you knew it was me calling.”
“No. I just always answer like that. What’s up?”
“That girl you were telling me about who lives with the stollen lady who died. Crystal, right?”
“Yes. Why?”
“Because she just drove up with a whole truckload of furniture. Her and some guy.”
“I’m not surprised. She seems to be trying to expunge Alice from her life. But why did you say guy like you were unsure?”
“Oh I’m sure. They’re getting the stuff from the back of what I’m guessing is his pickup truck now so I only have a second, but this boyfriend of hers looks like bad news.”
“I’m going to swing by. I need to talk to her anyway.”
“If you want. But don’t start anything with this guy or I’m going to have to get all black-ops on his hiney.”
Charlotte giggled. “On his hiney. You’re such a thug. See you in a sec.”
Tilly would have to wait. Charlotte drove the three minutes to the Hock o’Bell in time to see the man Declan had been describing heft a chair from the back of a black Ford truck perched on enormous tires. Charlotte imagined he needed a ladder to climb into the thing.
She could see what Declan had meant about Crystal’s friend. He was reedy, with stringy brown hair hanging past his shoulders and a spotty collection of fuzz around his lip and chin that made it look as though he and his razor weren’t on speaking terms. Something about his pallor and the circles beneath his eyes implied his health wasn’t top notch either.
