Death of a Dog Whisperer (9780758284570) (7 page)

It was the perfect summer afternoon. The sun was high and warm in the sky. Davey and Kevin were keeping each other entertained. The Poodles had flopped down happily in the grass beneath the oak tree. At least for the moment, everything was just as it should be. Too bad, I thought, that I couldn't figure out a way to capture that peace and hold on to it.

And yet for the next few weeks it almost seemed as though I had. Sam cut back on his work schedule and we took the kids on outings to the beach and the Natural History Museum. Aunt Peg, occupied making new connections for Nick, barely had any time for me. Even Bob's renovations proceeded smoothly.

Life was good. This, I thought, must be how normal people live. It was definitely something I could get used to it. I was smiling in happy anticipation of another long, lazy, summer day when I answered the phone two weeks later.

And heard the news that Nick Walden was dead.

“D
ead?” I gasped. “How? When?”

“He was shot,” Aunt Peg told me. “It happened last night. In his home.”

My knees gave out. Thankfully there was a chair nearby. I sank down into it.

“Was there an intruder?” I asked.

“The police aren't sure what took place. But they're calling it a homicide.”

A lump rose in my throat. I swallowed heavily. This was all too much to process.

“How did you find out?”

“It's on the morning news,” said Aunt Peg. “A murder in Riverside is a big deal. Every local station had the story. How could you have missed it?”

“I was feeding the boys breakfast,” I told her. “They're not allowed to watch TV while they eat.”

“Well, someone ought to be keeping tabs,” Peg said huffily.

“I just can't believe it.” I realized I was shaking my head, as if denying the news would make it go away. “That's awful.”

“What's awful?” asked Sam. He had Kevin with him.

I looked up and he saw the expression on my face. Unfortunately Sam and I have been here before. He knew what to do. “I'll bet
Sesame Street
is on now, isn't it?” he said to Kevin.

The toddler's face lit up. “Cookie Monster!” he said with a toothy grin.

Sam deposited him in front of the TV in the living room and quickly returned. By that time I'd found that Aunt Peg didn't have any more information than she'd already given me and ended the call. I was telling Sam the bad news when the phone rang again.

This time it was Bob.

“We've already heard,” I said before he had a chance to speak. “Do you know what happened?”

“Just that Nick was shot late yesterday evening. I can't believe it. Who would do such a thing? Nick was a great guy. We . . . I . . . just had dinner with him a couple days ago.”

“I'm sorry,” I said. “I know the two of you were good friends.”

Bob blew out a shaky sigh. “God, this is hard.”

“I know,” I said softly.

He didn't speak for a long time. I didn't push. I just waited until he was ready to continue.

“Listen, Mel,” he said finally. “I need a favor. Can we talk? Is it all right if I come over?”

“Of course. Anything you want. But Davey's going to be spending the day at Joey Brickman's house. So I'll be dropping him off right down the road from you in just a few minutes. Do you want me to stop by?”

“No, I'm not home right now. I'm . . . somewhere else.”

How very odd, I thought. The definition of
not home
would certainly seem to indicate that Bob was
somewhere else
. Was his current location a secret? Was there something he didn't want me to know?

Then I frowned and reined in my wandering thoughts. My ex had just been hit with news that had to have come as a huge shock. Under the circumstances, it was understandable that he might not be expressing himself clearly.

“Give me half an hour,” I said. “Sam and I will both be here.”

Alice Brickman, Joey's mom, has been a stalwart presence in my life since we'd met in a neighborhood play group when our boys were less than a year old. We'd quickly discovered how much we had in common and our sons' compatibility sealed the bond. Davey and Joey had become great friends, and Alice and I did too.

Over the years, she and I had supported each other through chicken pox, snow days, and endless numbers of school projects. We've also covered each other's backs. Alice knew I'd be there for her if she ever needed anything, and I knew she'd do the same for me. So now I didn't hesitate to strap Kevin into the car when I went to drop Davey off.

I made the drive to Flower Estates on autopilot, my thoughts consumed by the morning's terrible news. I hadn't yet had the chance to get to know Nick Walden well, but everything I did know about him made this tragedy seem all the more incomprehensible. Nick had been young, and talented, and eminently likeable. How could anyone have possibly wanted him dead?

Alice answered the door wearing a flowered sundress and flip-flops. Her strawberry blond hair was twisted into a careless knot on the top of her head, and her pale, freckled skin showed the beginnings of a summer tan. Before we even had a chance to say hello, the Brickmans' Golden Retriever, Berkley, shot through the open doorway. He flew past me down the steps and went careening into Davey. Spinning around, the dog jumped up to plop his big, hairy, paws on my son's shoulders.

“Berkley, get down!” Alice cried. “As if he ever listens,” she muttered under her breath before treating me to a wide smile. “Great to see you. Do you have time to come in and visit?”

“Unfortunately no.”

Behind me, Davey was giggling. Big dogs, even ones whose manners needed work, didn't bother him in the slightest. He pushed Berkley down, then ran into the house in search of Joey. The Golden galloped happily along behind, nearly knocking me off the step.

“Hello, Mrs. Brickman,” I called after him. “How nice to see you. Thank you for having me.”

The reminder to watch his own manners didn't even slow Davey down. He was already gone.

“Oh please.” Alice laughed. “There's no need to stand on ceremony around here. Considering how much time he and Joey spend together, that child might as well be my second son.”

True, that.

“So tell me what's wrong,” said Alice. That's how well she knows me. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Actually yes,” I admitted. “Do you think you could watch Kevin for an hour or two?”

“Sure.” Alice nodded. “Carly has a friend coming over too, so I've already got four. I'll hardly even notice one more.”

Carly was Alice's daughter. At nine, she was graceful as a willow and loved nothing more than dance. Except maybe kittens, and the color pink. I adored my rough-and-tumble sons, but sometimes I envied Alice her very girly daughter.

“Trust me, you'll notice this one,” I told her. “He's two and into everything.”

“Like I haven't been there,” Alice scoffed. “At least he's still at an age where I can pick him up if I see trouble coming.”

She accompanied me down the steps to the driveway. Kevin was still in his car seat. Before I could open the Volvo's door, Alice put out a hand to stop me.

“I'm happy to watch Kev, you know that. But it wasn't what I meant when I asked if I could help. Is everything all right?”

I shook my head. “A friend of Bob's was killed last night. He wants to come over and talk about it.”

“Nick Walden.” Alice's face fell. “I heard about it on the news. What an awful thing. He seemed like a great guy.”

“You knew him?” I asked, surprised.

“I just met him once actually. I was walking Berkley—which is to say that Berkley was walking me. You know how that goes.”

I did. Berkley was supposed to be the kids' dog but, not unexpectedly, Alice was the one who'd ended up taking care of him. And since no one in the family had the time to devote to consistent training, the young, rambunctious Golden Retriever tended to do things his own way. His walks with Alice often appeared to be less like a team effort than a wild ride that both participants hoped to survive.

“Berkley and I ran into Nick outside Bob's house one day,” Alice said with a grimace. “As in, we literally ran into him. I guess I wasn't paying enough attention because when B saw something interesting and started to run, the leash flew right out of my hands. By the time I caught up, Nick was standing on the sidewalk with the lead wrapped around his legs. Even worse, Berkley—who obviously was stuck too—was barking like some demented hound from hell. Of course I immediately started to apologize.”

“Of course,” I agreed.

“And then I got a good look at Nick and all I could think was, Oh crap, why did I run out of the house looking like this? Would it have killed me to put on a little lipstick to walk the dog?”

That made me laugh. Yeah, Nick was that cute.

“But you know,” Alice continued, “he couldn't have been nicer about the whole thing. Not only that, but in less than a minute the two of them were untangled and Berkley was sitting calmly beside him like a perfect angel. I have no idea how Nick did it. It was like watching someone perform magic.”

“Nick was a dog whisperer,” I said softly. My smile died as the enormity of the loss hit me again, making my chest feel hollow and empty.

“That's what he told me.” Alice expression grew somber too. “He said that Goldens make great family dogs, but even great dogs need steady, dependable training. He offered to give me a few pointers.”

“That sounds like Nick. He wanted the best for every dog he came in contact with.”

“I took his card and tucked it away,” said Alice. “I planned to take him up on his offer when the kids' camps start and I have more time. I'm sure he could have helped us.”

Just one more way in which Nick's death had been a tragic waste. “I barely knew the guy,” I said. “But I know I'm going to miss him.”

“Don't make me cry.” Alice reached up and scrubbed a hand across her cheek. Then she reached around me and opened the car door. “Kevin will be fine here until you're ready to come and get him. And you'll have to tell me what Bob says. Maybe he knows something that can help us make sense of what happened.”

“Maybe,” I replied. “But I wouldn't count on it. I don't think there's anything that could make me feel better about this.”

I'd barely arrived back home when Bob's dark green Explorer turned in to the driveway. To my surprise, another car followed behind his. The second car was a small, red, Japanese hybrid. There appeared to be a woman driving it.

I stood in the front hall and stared shamelessly out the window, waiting for the pair to get out of their cars. I wanted to see who our second visitor was.

“What are you doing?” asked Sam, coming up behind me.

“Spying,” I replied, my voice hushed. As if I was afraid that the people outside the house could hear me.

“On your ex-husband? I didn't know you were still that interested. Should I be worried?”

“I'm not looking at him.” I pulled Sam over beside me and pointed out the window. “It's the woman I'm curious about.”

By now she'd stepped out of the second car. She paused for a moment and gazed over at the house. Aviator-framed sunglasses covered her eyes; I couldn't read her expression. The woman was tall and slender, wearing a narrow linen sheath dress in a bright shade of pink that complimented her dark, glossy, hair. Her arms and legs were bare; she'd dressed appropriately for the warm summer day. Even so, she didn't look comfortable. Or maybe I was reading more into her stance than was actually there.

Bob had disembarked too. He stood next to the Explorer, waiting for her so that they could walk to the house together. When she reached his side, he slipped an arm around her waist and briefly pulled her close.

As I watched, Bob leaned down and said something to the woman. His lips brushed lightly across her silky hair. His hand continued to rest lightly on her hip. The contact between them appeared both supportive and intimate. Whoever the woman was, she and Bob knew one another well.

“Oh,” said Sam.

I reared back and looked at him. “What does that mean?”

Sam didn't answer. Instead he slipped past me and opened the door. I stayed where I was and stared after him. Oh indeed.

Bob and the woman were already coming up the wide front steps. She lifted a hand gracefully and slid her shades up on top of her head. Her eyes were amber, flecked with bits of brown. She smiled briefly as Bob made the introductions.

“Melanie, Sam, this is Claire Walden,” he said. “Claire is Nick's sister.”

I did not see that coming. Choking on the greeting I'd meant to offer, I just stuck out my hand instead. Thankfully Sam's manners were smoother. He invited the couple inside. That gave me the minute I needed to regain control. But . . . Bob and
Nick's sister
?

“I'm so sorry for your loss,” I said to Claire. “I only met your brother recently, but I was hoping to have the chance to get to know him better.”

“Thank you,” she said softly.

Her gaze slid past me and went to the pack of Poodles gathered at the back of the hall. The big black dogs had come running when the door opened. But instead of offering their usual exuberant welcome, today the Poodles seemed to sense the mood of our guests. A palpable feeling of sadness hung in the air and their response was equally subdued.