Trick or Deadly Treat (19 page)

“And Woods was afraid it was gonna ruin his business,” Sam said. “So he started goin' the turkey baster route.”

Phyllis was no prude, but this discussion was getting awfully indelicate for her sensibilities. To move it away from the biological aspects of what had been going on, she said to Baxter, “Woods wanted you to help him with this scheme, didn't he?”

“Yeah, but like I said, I told him to forget it. I wasn't going to open myself up to being sued for fraud just because Woods is a greedy, underhanded son of a—”

Baxter glanced at Phyllis and stopped short.

“But I didn't turn Woods in, either,” he resumed with a shrug. “Does that make me guilty of anything, Jimmy?”

“Concealing evidence of a crime is considered obstruction of justice,” D'Angelo answered. “In a case like this, I doubt if the cops would have pressed charges, but it might open you up to civil liability. You were right to worry about getting sued.”

Sam said, “That's why you were upset when you heard about how Tommy might be workin' with Woods. You didn't want him gettin' in trouble, either.”

“He's a good kid,” Baxter said, “but he can be talked into things. I told him he needed to steer clear of Woods, without going into any details, and I think he got the message. I hope he did, anyway.”

Phyllis said, “There's still the matter of Woods showing up at your wife's office. I can't see any way she could be involved in his dog-breeding scheme, though.”

“Neither do I,” Baxter said. “That just doesn't make any sense.”

“I don't want to upset you, but is there any chance that Susan and Woods were . . . romantically involved?”

Baxter looked flabbergasted by the suggestion, then angry, and finally adamant, all in short order, as he said, “That's the craziest thing I've ever heard. Woods is a slob.”

“Hey, there's no accounting for taste,” D'Angelo said. “I'm not exactly Brad Pitt, but I do all right with the ladies, if I do say so myself.”

Baxter shook his head and said, “No. That's just impossible. I know I said I was convinced Susan was cheating on me, but not with Woods. Not in a million years.”

“How about with Jack Carlyle?” Sam said.

That question seemed to catch Baxter off-balance. He frowned, gave a little shake of his head, and said, “Meredith's husband? That's not as crazy as thinking she was fooling around with Woods, I guess. Jack's a lot more her type—rich and successful—but I still don't think so. What makes you ask about Jack?”

“A witness told us that he went to Susan's office fairly often,” Phyllis said. “Can you think of any reason he'd do that?”

“Well . . . they got along all right, I guess. I never heard Susan complain about him.”

“What about some sort of medical condition that would give him a reason to go there? Could he have been planning some surgery?”

“You'd have to ask Jack,” Baxter said. “We've always been friendly enough, too, I suppose, but we're not close or anything.” His forehead creased in thought. “What you're saying is that you think Woods and Jack should both be considered suspects.”

“That's what you need,” D'Angelo said. “If there were other people with a good reason for wanting your wife dead, especially if they were around on the day she was killed, that helps us create reasonable doubt.”

“I guess.”

“Did Jack ever boast to you about romantic conquests?” Phyllis asked. “Did he give you any reason to think that he might pursue other men's wives?”

“No, not that I recall. But if he was going to pursue my wife, it would've been a pretty stupid thing for him to brag about it, wouldn't it?”

He didn't sound quite as convinced now that an affair between Susan and Jack Carlyle was as impossible as he had indicated a few minutes earlier, Phyllis thought. But they were still a long way from having any proof of that, and even if it turned out to be true, an affair didn't necessarily give Carlyle a motive for murder.

But the crime likely had been one of passion, she recalled as she thought about the murder weapon. Maybe Susan had told Carlyle she was ending their relationship, and he had taken it badly. Maybe Carlyle was the one who wanted to break up, and Susan had threatened to tell her sister about it. Those possibilities seemed feasible.

“Is there anything else?” Baxter said. “While I'm here, I'd like to check on a few other things and talk to Holly about the business.”

D'Angelo looked at Phyllis and Sam, who shook their heads. They had wanted to find out the truth about Kyle Woods, and they had.

Now it was time to start digging deeper into Jack Carlyle's activities.

“I guess that's it for now,” D'Angelo told Baxter. “Thanks for coming clean with us, Hank. It could turn out to be important.”

“Maybe so,” Baxter said.

“And thanks for takin' care of Buck,” Sam added.

That prompted a smile from Baxter. “He's a good dog, very tolerant and well-behaved. And he's looking good, Sam. You can barely tell that he's the same scared, injured, starving dog you brought in here.”

Sam scratched the top of Buck's head and said, “He's been a mighty good friend already.”

“Let's get him down off the table.”

Sam and Baxter set Buck on the floor again. Baxter told Sam there was no charge. It was part of the original fee, he said.

They all went back to the waiting room, where Holly sat behind the counter again. Phyllis thought the redhead looked nervous, but Holly managed to smile and ask, “How's Buck doing?”

“Just fine,” Baxter told her. “Perfect, in fact.”

“Good.”

Baxter and D'Angelo followed them out of the vet clinic.

“Call me anytime if you have new information,” the lawyer said to Phyllis and Sam.

“We will,” Sam promised. He looked up the clinic's long driveway toward the street. “Who's that comin'?”

Baxter said, “It looks like—” He stopped, and his voice hardened as he went on. “That's Woods's pickup.”

So it was. The pickup came into the parking lot and stopped. Kyle Woods got out from behind the wheel and glared toward the little group standing beside Sam's pickup. Tommy Sanders emerged from the vehicle's passenger side and looked surprised and scared at the same time.

Baxter didn't hesitate. He stalked angrily toward the newcomers and said, “Woods! What the hell are you doing here?”

W
oods's attitude was just as belligerent as Baxter's. He clenched his fists, stuck his jaw out, and said, “I've got a right to be here.”

“The hell you do,” Baxter snapped. “This is private property. My property. You're a criminal, and I want you off of it.”

“Ah, you don't know what you're talking about. I haven't done anything wrong.”

“Yeah, you have, and now you're trying to drag this boy into it.” Baxter waved a hand toward Tommy.

Tommy still looked scared, but he said, “Wait a minute, Dr. Baxter. I'm not a boy, and you don't have to look out for me. I know what I'm doing.”

“If you get mixed up with Woods and his fraud, you're a fool,” Baxter said. “What are you doing, helping him pass those defective pups off as Texas Maximus's?”

“You shut your mouth,” Woods warned Baxter as his mouth twisted in a snarl. “You're just making up crap now.”

“We all know it's true. And I think I ought to tell the authorities about it, or at least the AKC.”

American Kennel Club, Phyllis thought, her brain quickly figuring out what the initials stood for.

Woods didn't take kindly to the threat. His face went pale at first, then flushed brick red. He took a step forward just as Sam tried to move in between the two men and keep them separated.

“You fellas just take it easy—” Sam began.

It was too late. Woods was already throwing a punch. The blow was aimed at Baxter, but Sam had gotten in the way. Phyllis cried out in alarm as Woods's fist crashed into Sam's jaw and knocked him back against Baxter. The vet caught hold of Sam and stopped him from falling.

Before anybody else could react, Buck darted forward like a black-and-white-spotted flash. His leg didn't slow him down now. His teeth sank into Woods's calf. Woods yelled in pain as he reeled back against the side of his pickup and tried to shake Buck loose. He started to kick at Buck with his other foot.

The first kick never landed. As Sam caught his balance, Baxter stepped around him and hooked a punch into Woods's ample midsection. Woods's eyes bugged out as Baxter's fist plowed into his belly. He started to double over, which put him in position for Baxter to hit him in the face. Woods's head jerked back from the force of the blow and bounced off the glass of the driver's-side window.

Sam grabbed hold of Buck and pulled him away from Woods. Jimmy D'Angelo threw his arms around Baxter and hauled him back. Woods sagged against the pickup's door, wheezing and looking like he was going to pass out. He shook
his head, and his expression cleared a little. He hunched his shoulders and looked like he was going to come after Baxter again.

Tommy got in his way and said, “Mr. Woods, no. You've got to stop.”

“Get outta my way, kid,” Woods said.

“No. I don't work for you. I still work for Hank.”

“Not for much longer,” Woods said with a sneer. “I don't think he can pay you from prison.”

“He won't be going to prison,” Jimmy D'Angelo said, “once the cops hear about how you were at Susan Baxter's office not long before she was killed.”

Woods looked like those words hit him almost as hard as Baxter had, Phyllis thought. He put a hand against the pickup to support himself and said, “What? What? I wasn't . . . I didn't . . . What the hell are you accusing me of?”

“We know you were there,” D'Angelo went on. “We have a witness and can prove it. So you'd better be expecting a visit from the cops. I'd say that defrauding some dog owners is the least of your worries now.”

Woods still tried to put up a defiant front, but Phyllis thought she saw fear lurking in his eyes as he said, “I didn't do anything wrong. There's nothing illegal about going to a doctor's office. People do it all the time.”

“What was your business with my wife?” Baxter demanded.

Woods smirked at him and said, “Maybe I had a little stud service of my own going.”

“You—”

D'Angelo had let go of Baxter as they talked, but he put a
hand on the vet's arm to keep him from lunging at Woods again.

“Don't let him get to you, Hank,” D'Angelo advised. “He's got it coming, but if you give him what he deserves, it might just look bad for you later.”

Sam was holding on to Buck's halter. He said, “There's no reason I can't give the varmint a good thrashin'.”

“Yeah, I'd like to see you try it, Gramps,” Woods said. Then he pointed at Sam and went on. “Hey, I know you! You came out to my place and said you were looking for a dog. That was a lie, wasn't it? You're part of this bunch that's trying to railroad me!”

“We're just trying to get to the truth,” D'Angelo said. “Why don't you tell us what you were doing at Susan Baxter's office the day she was murdered?”

“Why don't you go and . . . Ah, forget it! My time's too valuable to waste it standing around and listening to this crap.” Woods looked at Tommy. “Why don't you get that stuff we came here for, and then we'll get back to what we were doing.”

“I told you,” Tommy said. “I don't work for you, Mr. Woods. And I think it was a mistake to say that I might. I don't want to get mixed up in anything crooked.”

“It's not crooked,” Woods insisted. “We're just . . . increasing the odds a little, know what I mean? The puppies that result could still be Texas Maximus's.”

“You know better than that,” Baxter said. “What you're doing is fraud, plain and simple, and I hope you wind up paying for it.”

D'Angelo urged his client toward the door as he said, “Why don't we just go on back inside, Hank? I'll have a talk
with that detective, Latimer, and tell him what we've found out. We'll let the cops handle this.”

Baxter looked like he wanted to be stubborn and argue about it, but then he jerked his head in a curt nod and said, “All right. But you'd better stay away from here from now on, Woods. If I see your face around here—”

“No threats. No threats,” D'Angelo broke in. “That doesn't help anybody.”

“Yeah, you're already going to prison for murder,” Woods said. “You don't want to add a sentence for assaulting an innocent man on top of it.”

“There's nothing innocent about you,” Baxter said.

He allowed D'Angelo to prod him back inside the clinic. When they were gone, Woods pointed at Buck and said to Sam, “That dog bit me. He's a menace, and I'm going to file a complaint. Animal Control's gonna put him down; you mark my words.”

“Any man who'd threaten a dog ought to be put down himself,” Sam said.

“You hear that?” Woods looked back and forth between Phyllis and Tommy. “I've got witnesses! This old geezer threatened to kill me. You heard him!”

“I didn't hear anything,” Tommy said. “And the way I saw it, you assaulted this gentleman and his dog tried to protect him. If you file a complaint with Animal Control, I'll be happy to back up Mr. Fletcher when he files an assault complaint with the police. You should leave now, Mr. Woods.”

Woods glared around at all of them and said, “You're gonna be sorry. You're all gonna be sorry.” He winced and limped as he turned to open the door and get into the pickup.
“That vicious dog injured me. They're gonna have to kill him and take his brain out and check it for rabies.”

Phyllis already had a hand on Sam's arm. She tightened her grip as she felt Sam stiffen with rage.

All Sam did, though, was say coldly, “I reckon there's only one diseased brain around here, and we're lookin' at the fella who has it.”

Woods snarled and slammed the pickup door. He started the truck, backed around, and pulled away with a spurt of gravel.

Tommy said, “What a—” He stopped, glanced at Phyllis, and finished, “Unpleasant fellow.”

“Whatever you were about to say, Tommy,” Phyllis told him, “you were right the first time.”

*   *   *

Phyllis and Sam went inside to make sure Baxter was all right, taking Buck with them. Tommy followed them.

Baxter and D'Angelo weren't in sight, but Holly stood behind the counter. She came around the end of it and punched Tommy on the chest in irritation.

“Why don't you keep your phone charged up?” she asked him. “I tried to call you.”

“I'm sorry. I just forget,” Tommy said.

“I wanted to warn you about Dr. Baxter being here, so you wouldn't bring that awful Kyle Woods with you.”

“He's not awful,” Tommy protested. “He's just . . .” His voice trailed off and he sighed. “All right, yeah, he's awful. You were right to tell me I shouldn't get involved with him.”

“I was just afraid he'd get you in trouble.”

Tommy put his hands on Holly's shoulders as he said, “Well, you don't have to worry about that anymore. From here on out, I'm not gonna have anything to do with the guy.”

Holly summoned up a smile. “I'm glad,” she said. “He hasn't already had you doing anything illegal, has he?”

“No. I just gave some perfectly legal injections to some of his dogs.”

Holly put her arms around his waist and leaned against him, resting her head against his chest. “I'm glad,” she said. “Now we can get back to all the plans we had without having to worry about that.”

“Yeah, but we still have to worry about Dr. Baxter,” Tommy pointed out. “If he goes to prison, the clinic will have to close down and we'll be out of our jobs. Then we can't save up to go to vet school.”

Phyllis didn't want to interrupt the two young people, but she said, “We're going to do our best to see that Dr. Baxter isn't convicted. Where did he and Mr. D'Angelo go?”

“They're in the doctor's office,” Holly said.

Sam had a worried frown on his face as he said, “I hope they won't mind us bargin' in. I've got to talk to Mr. D'Angelo about something.”

Phyllis had a pretty good idea what that something was. They went over to the door of Baxter's office, and Sam knocked on it.

Baxter called in a weary voice, “Come in.” Sam opened the door, and he and Phyllis went in to find Baxter sitting slumped behind his desk while D'Angelo stood in front of it.

“We wanted to make sure you were all right, Dr. Baxter,” Phyllis said.

“As all right as I'm going to be until all this is over.” Baxter sat up straighter as a look of concern appeared on his face. “But what about you, Sam? Woods hit you pretty hard. I appreciate you getting in the way of that punch, but you really shouldn't have.”

“That wasn't exactly what I was intendin' to do,” Sam said with a wry chuckle. He took hold of his chin and moved his jaw back and forth. “Everything still seems to be workin'. That's not the first punch I've taken. Luckily, I've got a pretty hard head.”

D'Angelo said, “I'm going to report this incident to the police and have Woods arrested for assault. One way or another, the man needs to go away. He didn't try anything else after Hank and I came inside, did he?”

“He threatened Buck because of that bite. Said he'd have him declared a vicious dog and a menace, and that Animal Control'd put him down.”

“He was very nasty about it,” Phyllis added.

D'Angelo let out a contemptuous snort. “Let him try,” the lawyer said. “He won't get away with that as long as Buck is my client. And if he does try, we can use the assault charge as leverage against him. Don't worry about Buck, Sam. We won't let anything happen to him.”

“That makes me feel a little better,” Sam said. “But I agree with Hank. I'm ready for this to all be over.”

“I think we all are,” Phyllis said. “Mr. D'Angelo, are you going to tell Warren Latimer what we found out about Woods being at Susan's office?”

“That's where I'm headed from here,” D'Angelo said with a nod. “Latimer won't like it. He's like any other cop. Once he's
made an arrest, he doesn't want to acknowledge anything that might weaken the case. But he won't have any choice because he knows that if he doesn't follow up on this new information, I'll use it against him and the prosecution at the trial. Nothing creates reasonable doubt in a juror's mind faster than hearing that the cops had a good lead they refused to follow up on.”

“If you find out anything . . .”

“I'll let you know,” D'Angelo promised.

Phyllis and Sam said their good-byes and left the vet clinic, taking Buck with them. As Phyllis drove, Sam scratched the Dalmatian on the head and said, “You jumped right in there to help me, didn't you, fella? You're pretty smart when it comes to knowin' who needs to be bitten, aren't you?”

“He was defending you,” Phyllis said. “I'd say you have a friend for life, Sam.”

Sam looked across the seat at her, smiled, and said, “More than one.”

*   *   *

When they got Buck home, Eve patted him on the head and told him what a good dog he was and that he looked awfully handsome. Carolyn just said, “Hmph,” but she followed the others out onto the back porch to watch Buck run around the backyard. The leaves had started to fall from the trees, creating a crackly carpet on which Buck romped. The yard was dappled with sun and shade as the Dalmatian played, and Phyllis thought it was a lovely scene.

Carolyn brought them all back to reality by asking, “What are you going to do now?”

“There's still Jack Carlyle,” Sam said. “We haven't proved
that he was carryin' on with Susan Baxter, or even if he was, that there was any reason for him to kill her.”

“We can't exactly march into his office and ask him about it, either,” Phyllis said. “Maybe what we need to do is concentrate our efforts on Raylene.”

Sam frowned and said, “The girl who works in Susan's office?”