Must Love Wieners (37 page)

He didn’t look angry, or thwarted like a proper villain should. He looked mystified. Like that lost little puppy Piper first fell for. Her stomach tightened at the sight and she finally let the tears spill over. In reality, he’d never been a puppy. He’d been a wolf right from the start.

The anguish on his face was the last thing she saw before they turned the next corner. Wiping away her tears, she pulled out her cell phone and dialed Inspector Samuels.

35

Lie with Dogs, Wake Up with Fleas

“I’m a good businessman. I haven’t lost sight of what’s important.”

“You’ve completely lost your objectivity. What’s important is getting rid of those damn dogs.”

“And I’ve done just that, haven’t I?”

Aiden’s admission stung just as badly hearing it the second time around. Piper cringed at his words, like a dagger being slid farther into her back, tearing muscle fibers and nerves as it dug deep enough to pierce her heart.

Inspector Samuels took notes while he listened to the playback on her phone. His face remained placid, any thoughts or feelings kept in check. She gripped her Styrofoam cup full of lukewarm coffee heating her shaking fingers and eyeballed the one-way mirror and the camera blinking in the corner by the ceiling. She wondered if Aiden and Old Spice were being interrogated in a similar room, or if the police were making them sit and stew until they heard Piper’s version of the story. The real one. She wondered if Aiden and Old Spice would try to deny it, like some big corporate cover-up.

When he’d heard enough, the inspector stopped the recording and grunted. “Quick thinking recording that conversation. It will come in handy during prosecution.”

“Good,” Piper said with a conviction she didn’t really feel.

“You don’t mind if we keep this in evidence for a few days, do you?”

At the thought of losing her phone, her only connection to the outside world, she clutched it to her chest. “You can’t just keep a copy of the recording?”

“Considering your relationship with the suspect, we’ll also need to review your call history, text messages, any photos of the two of you, that sort of thing. You never know what can help build a case, time lines, that sort of thing. He might have made slipups during previous discussions.”

Reluctantly, Piper handed it over, glad the most embarrassing thing on her phone was the insane amount of photos of Colin. She would have to call Lindsey at Sam’s office and let her know she wouldn’t be taking any telegram gigs for a few days—not that she had the time, anyway, what with having to move and her life falling apart and everything.

It suddenly occurred to her that she was back down to one job. She’d been relying on the dog-walking paychecks to pay the next month’s bills and to save up a damage deposit for when she found a new place—since she obviously wasn’t going to get hers back from Steve. She guessed that was out now.

Inspector Samuels stood up from the metal table and Piper somehow found the strength to do the same. She gave her short red skirt a tug to cover her butt. Arriving at the police station in her Supergirl costume raised a few eyebrows, but she was sure they’d seen stranger things. At least Addison had a spare sweatshirt in the trunk of her car to lend her.

“Well, Miss Summers,” he said. “I’m glad that you’re all right. You’ve been through a hell of an ordeal.”

“I’m just glad it’s all over.”

But it didn’t feel
over
. It felt like a giant, open, festering wound. One that wasn’t going to close anytime soon.

He walked her to the door and out into the bustling hallway.

“Do you think this was his plan all along?” she asked. “Right from the start?”

“There’s no way of knowing. It’s too soon in the investigation.” He gave her an apologetic look, like he wished he had something more comforting to say than that. So did she.

She’d been such a fool. Inspector Samuels’s words from the night of the fire came rushing back to her.
Arsonists have a habit of coming back to see the results of their work.
Aiden had been there after or during all the incidents at the rescue center and the near hit-and-run. He managed to witness the aftermath each time, reveling in the destruction of his own creation.

They arrived at the front stairs leading down to the lobby. She reached out and shook the inspector’s hand. “I’m glad you responded as quickly as you did today. Thank you.”

“Of course,” he said. “But I was already on my way when you called.”

Pausing at the top of the stairs, she spun to face him. “You were?”

“You weren’t the first nine-one-one call we received.”

“Who was the first?”

“Aiden Caldwell.”

She nearly lost her footing on the stairs and tumbled to the bottom. She gripped the rail and her jaw tightened. “A PR move, no doubt.” In his office, he’d talked about involving them, to head off any stories before they started. Maybe this was their suggestion, to make the first move. Maybe they thought it would make them seem less guilty, more cooperative.

The inspector’s face gave nothing away. “Perhaps.” But something in his voice made her wonder if that was a “perhaps yes” or a “perhaps no.”

Not that she cared. She knew enough. She wasn’t going to ponder everything that happened, everything Aiden said and did over the last few weeks, over, and over, and over again. And that “perhaps” certainly wasn’t going to keep her up half the night, wondering, remembering, daydreaming, and, most of all, most definitely not, hoping.

Nope. Not at all.

Piper trudged down the stairs and into the lobby. She was so lost in thought that she barely saw Addison and Zoe until she was smothered in hugs. Addison handed Colin to her, who attacked her neck and face with kisses, both excited and relieved, but probably not aware of why.

“Are you okay?” Addison asked. She and Zoe were staring at her like she was an abused pup that came into the center.

“Peachy,” she said in her most chipper telegram girl voice. “My boyfriend’s a megalomaniac who tried to have me killed. But no relationship is without its problems. You gotta work these things out, right?”

“I don’t think he’s like Richard Gere anymore. He’s like Cruella de Vil. But with dachshunds instead of Dalmatians.”

“At least you don’t need to worry about getting murdered anymore.” Zoe patted her back in a “go get ’em, Tiger” kind of way. “Or about the center, since, you know, everyone’s in jail.”

“Oh God. The center.” All the worries that she’d put aside over the last several hours came crashing back, making her knees buckle with the weight of them. What was she going to tell Marilyn when she got back the next day?

She noticed a guy in the waiting area listening in on their conversation. His shirt was ripped, his eye black, and he was handcuffed to a bench. She found herself wanting to know his story, like hearing someone else’s misery could lessen her own. But despite the fact that he was in rough shape and waiting to be processed, she worried her story might still trump his. You know you got it bad when—

Putting that depressing thought aside, she turned back to her friends. “What’s going to happen? Will the center get repaired now that the man who owns it is, well, you know?”

“Evil?” Addison offered.

“There’s so much to do. And Marilyn gets back to town tomorrow. And then there’s my eviction. I have to be out in less than two days. Maybe I should reschedule my exam. I should call my mom too.” She groaned. “Oh yeah, they took my phone…,” she petered off. The guy in handcuffs gave her a pitying look. Maybe her life really was that bad.

“Whoa, hold on there,” Zoe said. “One catastrophe at a time. The center will work itself out. There’s nothing we can do until we talk to Marilyn. That worry will have to wait until tomorrow.”

“And as for moving out,” Addison said, “we’ll be there to help you.”

“But—”

“But nothing,” Zoe said. “You have enough to worry about with your licensing exam next week and moving out. Addy and I are here for you. In the morning, one of us will look after the place and fill Marilyn in, and the other will help you move all your crap out and into my guest room.” She could almost see the mental to-do list Zoe was writing in her head.

“Your guest room?”

“That’s right, Roomie. Unless you have a better option than yours truly.” She nudged Piper with an elbow. “Come on. Let us help you.”

Maybe her time with Aiden hadn’t been a complete loss. If Piper had learned anything by being with him, she’d learned that it was okay to rely on others—maybe not
him
specifically, but she knew she could depend on Addison and Zoe. Her shoulders, which had been creeping their way upward from stress, deflated, resuming their normal position. She closed her eyes and took a cleansing breath, thankful to have her friends in her life.

“Thanks, guys.”

“Oh, here. I forgot this.” Zoe handed over a fresh cup of Starbucks chai tea. “We weren’t sure what you’d want for comfort food.”

“So we bought it all.” Addison waved a box of chocolates in the air.

“Don’t worry,” Zoe said. “There’s wine waiting in the car.”

Overwhelmed by their support, she pulled them in for another hug. “Thanks, but I think I just want to be alone tonight.” Then she remembered the state of her apartment. Oh, well, she thought, she could flip the mattress onto the floor.

“Are you sure?” Addison asked. “I have like five flavors of ice cream in my freezer right now.”

“Why so many?” Zoe asked.

“For emergencies. A different flavor for every kind of situation. Like last month. You remember that guy I’d met at the bookstore? And how his ‘roommate’ turned out to be his wife. That was a vanilla blackberry jube jube kind of situation.”

“Do you have a flavor for my boyfriend tried to have me killed in a hostile corporate takeover?” Piper asked. “Because I’d like to try some of that.”

“Hmm. No. But I have triple chocolate caramel fudge brownie.”

She knew that if she gave in to that pain, the sucking chest wound where Aiden had ripped out her heart, it would lead to lots of tears and chick flicks on Addison’s couch and she might never be able to pull herself out of it, or that tub of ice cream. Taking a deep breath, she put one shiny red boot in front of the other and headed to the front doors.

“I’ll be okay,” she said, holding the door open for her friends. “I just need to get home and get a good sleep. I’ll start packing first thing in the morning.”

They exited the police station. The cool evening air swirled around Piper’s legs, raising goose bumps. She folded her arms across her chest, thankful for Addison’s sweatshirt that covered her bare stomach. It appeared as though the entire day had slipped by while she recounted the horrors of the last twenty-four hours to Inspector Samuels.

At the time, they’d felt like some of the best hours of her life—the ones spent in Aiden’s bed, not running away from him. The memory of his arms around her burned, making her wince each time his face unwillingly popped into her head.

Zoe caught one of those winces. “Are you sure you don’t want to hang tonight?”

Piper shrugged. “Apparently, the rest of the world, including my landlord, Steve, doesn’t care about my personal crisis. Besides, Aiden Caldwell has gotten in my future’s way for long enough. I don’t want to spend any more time on him, especially to mope.”

Who was she kidding? She might have been dressed like the girl of steel, but she wasn’t actually made of steel. There would be moping. So much moping, in fact, that it would deserve a name, like Mopefest, or Mopalooza. But not until she was alone, and her only witnesses were Colin and Mr. Wiggles.

“Well, it looks like he’s not out of the way yet.” Zoe pointed to the bottom of the precinct’s cement steps where a crowd had formed.

Colin’s tail began to wag, smacking Piper’s chest, so she knew Aiden was near before she saw him. He wasn’t hard to spot. He was the one surrounded by all the cameras flashing like starbursts, and the microphones, and waving hands vying for attention like eager students. A grim-looking woman in her mid-forties hovered next to him. Between each question from the press, she whispered something in his ear before hunching over her tablet again, typing furiously on the pad. Piper assumed she was some kind of PR person sent for damage control.

His suit looked crisp and recently pressed, definitely not the one he chased her through his office building in earlier that day. The PR woman probably brought it for him so he could appear presentable for the press. Maybe only bad guys had wrinkled suits.

He looked good. Too good, she thought. This surprised her, as though once he’d revealed his true self some kind of spell should have been broken, transforming him into some creature with warts, or horns, or scales, or something. It was only fair. After everything that had happened, the very sight of him shouldn’t have continued to stir something inside her.

But it wasn’t her fault, not really. It was the pheromones, the laws of nature. What were humans but evolved animals, still subject to nature’s bizarre reproductive whims? She had no more control over her desires than Toby could help humping everything that moved. But she was more evolved than that. She had this big brain that told her what was right and what was wrong. And Aiden was
wrong
.

No one had noticed Piper standing there with Addison and Zoe. Their focus was purely on the man of the hour, shouting questions and hanging on his every word, treating him as though he were the victim.

Aiden pointed to one hand waving in the back. “Yes, next question.”

“Mr. Williams has been with Caldwell and Son Investments for forty years. What will happen to him now?”

“His actions put lives in danger and he will have to answer in court for that,” Aiden said in a practiced tone, his face blank. “But as far as the company is concerned, he is no longer employed with us.”

So that was it. He’d washed his hands clean, using Old Spice as a scapegoat. Guess it was good business to have a token fall guy.

One of the girls tugged on her sleeve to go, but Piper ignored it. Slowly, so he wouldn’t notice her, she descended the stairs so she could hear the press conference better, watch his expressions from a better angle.