Though we were all there for the same reason, we never seemed to talk. We just let our doggies play while we sipped our lattes and enjoyed the sunshine.
“Why don’t you go play, Babbitt?” I asked. I only knew the two commands Garrett had done the night I’d been at his house—stay and sick—and neither of them fit quite right with this situation.
“Run,” I said.
Babbitt just stared up at me with his sky blue eyes.
“Go?” I asked.
Nothing.
I looked out finding Fizzy smelling the butt of an old Boston terrier. “Oh Fizzy,” I said under my breath.
“Do you want to play fetch?” I pulled a ball from my pocket.
Babbitt let out a low growl, his ears perking up but his eyes weren’t focused on me, they were pointed at the gate where we’d come in.
About six people stood where he was looking. Some were coming, and some were going. All seemed to have dogs, except one.
A person with a baggie zip-up sweatshirt walked outside of the fence perimeter, the hood pulled tightly against their face with their head pointed at the ground. It was this person Babbitt was watching and growling at.
“What’s wrong? You don’t like people in hoodies?” I asked. The person did look pretty shady.
Babbitt continued to growl.
The person looked up from the ground to reveal a pale face almost entirely hidden by huge dark sunglasses. They were too far away at this point for me to determine if it was a man or a woman.
“Should we go check it out?” I asked.
Apparently, that was Babbitt’s cue to take off. He ran like he was in the race of his life towards the fence.
“No. No Babbitt,” I yelled sprinting after him not sure what he would do when he got to the person.
I could feel eyes around me watching. Other dogs chased after Babbitt like it was one big game. Even Fizzy joined in the fun.
But Babbitt was on a mission.
When the person realized the dog was heading right for them, they darted away from the fence and disappeared into the parking lot.
Babbitt was still barking and growling when I reached the fence. A silver car tore out of the parking lot, probably with the person who Babbitt had tried to attack.
“Babbit stop,” I yelled. “Sit.”
Babbitt instantly stopped barking and sat, his eyes shifting between the fence and me.
The other dogs looked confused before their owners caught up with us. I snapped a leash to Babbitt’s collar and then another to Fizzy’s.
“I’m sorry. We’re leaving,” I said to the group of people standing with their arms crossed over their chests throwing judgmental looks my way. The number one rule of the dog park was to never bring a vicious or aggressive dog.
But how was I to know Babbitt would react so strongly to someone in a hoodie?
I made a mental note to talk to Garrett about it when I saw him that night.
“Let’s go guys,” I said, and Babbitt and Fizzy both trotted next to me as I stormed back to the car, more embarrassed than I’d been since I’d sat in that little girl’s sand castle.
The sun was high, but the air was cooler than usual when I arrived at the reservoir. Fall was finally approaching.
“How are you?” Shayla asked when I met her in the plaza area.
“I’m okay. I visited Garrett this morning. He seems to be holding up. Then I took Babbitt and Fizzy to the dog park which ended in disaster.”
“Oh no. Doggie drama?”
“Kinda. Babbitt went nuts when he saw someone in a hoodie. We basically got kicked out.”
“Kicked out of a dog park. That’s gotta be a first.” She patted me on the shoulder. “Have you heard from Luke?”
I glanced out at the small crowd of teenagers who were likely on their lunch breaks from the school just outside the walk-in gates. “I saw him this morning after I talked to Garrett. He told me to stay out of the investigation.”
Shayla put her hands on her hips. “Haven’t I told you that a hundred times already?”
I ignored her comment. “Do you know anything about Zineclara and Oretaline?”
Shayla looked at me with a skeptical glare but before she could answer a voice came from behind us.
“Did I hear someone say Zineclara and Oretaline?” Carmen came bobbing up behind us, from the deck area around the main office.
“Yeah, do you know anything about them?” I asked.
“Sure do. I used to work at a pharmacy. They’re anti-anxiety drugs.”
Anti-anxiety? Garrett seemed like the least anxious person I knew. Probably because of the medications.
“You don’t look happy with that answer,” Carmen said her gum smacking between her teeth.
“It wasn’t what I was expecting.” If I’d dug deeper on Google, I probably could have figured that out myself.
“Why are you asking about prescription medication?” Shayla asked.
“No reason. I was just curious.”
“You know, now that I think about it, those two drugs when taken together are sometimes used for multiple personalities.”
My ears felt like they perked up. “Multiple personalities?”
“Yep.” She nodded vigorously. “I knew this guy once, came into the pharmacy all the time to get them, but sometimes he was Tom and others he was Damon. If he came in as Damon, we’d have to ask to speak to Tom to fill his prescription. He’d snap right over to Tom. It was the strangest thing.”
My head spun. Did Garrett have another personality? Could his other personality have killed Boy Boy?
“You don’t think Garrett—” Shayla started, but I cut her off with a look.
“No. This has nothing to do with the investigation that I’m not sticking my nose into.” I shifted from one foot to another.
Carmen shrugged. “Too bad that guy you were dating was a killer. From his pictures on TV, he looked pretty hot.”
Carmen was the last person I’d let judge the hotness of a guy. She dated nasty creepy Dave.
“I
