“So you’re investigating again?” she calls out. “Hear that, Jasper? Your own wife doesn’t believe you can do it alone. I can’t imagine how emasculating that must be.”
“Don’t listen to her,” I say, sealing the door shut behind us.
Jasper puts down the food, and I wrap my arms around him.
“I know you’re perfectly capable of solving this case.” I give his lips a peck to prove it.
Jasper pulls back and studies me a moment. “But you’re not letting go of the case. And that wasn’t a question, because I already know the answer. How about this? We share intel over pillow talk?”
“I could think of a lot more creative pillow talk than that.”
His lids hood a notch. “Who says we can’t communicate?”
I let Sugar and Fish chase after Sherlock while Jasper and I communicate without words for the next twenty minutes.
We’ve got a whole lifetime to figure one another out, and I look forward to every juicy second of it.
I’m looking forward to getting a few juicy details from Diane Regal, too.
Here’s hoping she’s willing to offer up more than a few.
And if she’s not, maybe I can coerce her dog into a little yipping and yapping.
Something tells me I’m going to need bacon.
Chapter 9
The dog park.
It turns out, tracking down Diane Regal was easier than I thought. I didn’t even have time to think about it. No sooner did I mention my next suspect’s name to Juni and Georgie than they traced her exact whereabouts down in less than two minutes. As fate, and a few lucky pooches would have it, Diane is a volunteer at the Puppy Prairie, a local dog park just down the street from town square right here in Cider Cove.
Juni, Georgie, and I have donned our winter coats, scooped up a couple of pooches ourselves, and drove right down here.
We could have walked. Sure, it’s still winter, but the snow isn’t sticking anymore in Cider Cove. But Juni wanted to wear heels, and her dog Sprinkles is a tiny brown terrier with legs that are about three inches high, and they both insisted on being carried. Suffice it to say, we all hopped into my car.
Naturally, I’ve brought Sherlock, but when Sugar heard I was going to see Gizmo, she insisted on coming along, too, so I’ve got her in my front carrier and Sherlock on a leash. Fish decided to sit this one out. The last time I brought her here was over six months ago, and after five minutes and a rather enthusiastic Doberman named Rufus, she not only ran all the way home, she threatened to find herself a new home if I ever attempted to bring her here again.
The Puppy Prairie is an expansive fenced in area of about an acre of land, mostly dirt at the moment with a few small manmade hills near the back to add some thrills for the four-legged creatures among us.
It takes less than ten seconds for me to spot Diane Regal’s shock of platinum hair peeking out from under a hot pink hat as she stands near the gated entry. Her attention is fully on the handful of dogs running wild inside the park, and she’s holding a rather large aqua water bottle in her left hand.
“Give me the pooch.” Georgie makes a play for the leash, and I pull it back.
“I can’t give you the leash. The suspect is right there. I need her to see me walk in with Sherlock or she’ll think I’m a freak for showing up with a cat. No offense, Sugar.”
Sugar bleats out a meow. No offense taken. I’m starting to rethink this whole thing anyway. As much as I like Gizmo, I’d like to keep my fur about me for another twenty years or so. She cranes her neck to get a better look at the dogs milling around. Most of them are bigger than Sherlock, but a few are tiny tots like Sprinkles. It looks as if Fish was right. I’ll use up eight of my nine lives today at least.
“Aww.” Georgie gives Sugar a quick scratch on the forehead. “I don’t need to be a mind reader to know you’re having second thoughts about joining the barking brigade. Don’t you worry. I’ve got an entire bucket of bacon with me.” She pulls a bright yellow bucket from her tote bag, and sure enough, it’s brimming with salty goodness.
“Georgie, are you insane? You can’t bring that in there. You’re going to get swarmed by every dog in the park, and probably a few of the men, too.”
Juni trots over and plucks out a handful of bacon for herself. “Come on, sweet stuff.” She places Sprinkles on the ground. “Let’s go do our thing. Valentine’s Day is just around the corner, and if we play our canine cards right, we’ll both land a couple of woofers to call our own before the day is done.”
Sprinkles looks my way. Don’t hesitate to help me out if I end up in a bind. I don’t really care for the big boys.
They take off for the gate, and Georgie and I follow suit.
“You should have brought Cinnamon or Gatsby,” I tell her as she continues her struggle for the leash. Cinnamon is Emmie’s labradoodle with fur the same color as her spicy name. And Gatsby is Leo’s golden retriever.
“You should have brought Cinnamon or Gatsby. Forget your suspect, Bizzy. There’s nothing sadder than watching a senior citizen entering a dog park alone with a bucket of bacon.”
“Don’t make me laugh.” I giggle through each word. “And I’ve never heard you call yourself a senior citizen before.”
“I didn’t say I was one. I’m just saying some poor schmuck here might think that when they see me. I’m fully aware that youth is ardently worshipped in this savage world we live in.”
“Fine.” I give her the leash as we
