“You’re leaving today?”
“No, I’m planning to go to the Foxton Fair tonight. Then I’ll head out first thing tomorrow morning.”
“I wish you the best of luck. And so do Liam and Drew.”
I wish her the best as well and, after signing off, check my watch. My client Zooms are at two and three, and though I want time to prepare, there’s that one loose end I need to tie up before I pack. I’ve decided to drop by the animal shelter and check on Maverick.
The drive takes me close to a half hour. The shelter, I realize, is nearer to Jamie’s old rental than to the house on Ash Street. According to Gillian Parr, he’d done volunteer work at the shelter, and that must have been why he decided to adopt a dog from there, even though there might have been a closer place.
The long brick and wood building is industrial-looking, but flowers have been planted all around the facade, giving it a more inviting feel. Even with my windows rolled up, I can hear the howls of dogs. The noise dies down moments after I open the car door, but as I approach the building, a single bark is soon followed by an entire chorus, like the barking chain from101 Dalmatians, one dog setting off another. The workers here must need earplugs.
The small, plain lobby is nearly empty when I enter, just a young male clerk behind the counter and a female pet owner across from him, holding a soft-sided carrying case. Through the black mesh at the end, I can make out the face of a skittish-looking tabby cat.
“And should I brush her teeth?” the woman asks, grimacing.
“Not right away,” the clerk says. “Give her a few days to settle in at her new home. After that, try letting her lick a little cat toothpaste off your finger for a few weeks before you attempt any brushing. That will get her familiar with the concept.”
“Right, right,” the woman says without confidence. As soon as she departs, I step toward the counter and ask if Gillian is in.
“She is,” he tells me. “Who should I say is asking?”
I give my name and the clerk places a call to Gillian, then says she’ll be with me shortly.Please, I think,let her have good news about Maverick. A couple of minutes later, Gillian enters the lobby from a door on the right. She has a small straw purse over her shoulder, as if she’s on her way out.
“Kiki, hi,” she says, smiling. “Nice to see you again.”
“Good to see you as well. I’m here to check on Maverick. I didn’t apply to adopt him myself—unfortunately I’m not able to take on a pet at this stage of my life—but I wanted to be sure he’s okay.”
“That’s so thoughtful of you—and I’ve got excellent news. Someone’s already applied to take him. The adoption should be approved any minute.”
“What a relief,” I exclaim, almost giddy. “I was worried about the little guy.” I smile at her. “Well, that’s all, I guess. Thanks for letting me know.”
“Why don’t I walk out with you, I was just leaving for an appointment.”
She steps ahead of me to push the door open, then motions for me to precede her.
“How are you doing?” she says softly as we head toward the parking lot. “Not long after we talked, I saw Jamie’s obituary, and I also read a news item saying his death was a possible suicide. I can only imagine how difficult this must be for you.”
“I’m doing a little better, thanks—in part because there’s been a new development. A woman broke into the house on Ash Street the night before last and confronted me with a knife. I’m fine, but it emerged that she murdered Jamie. That his deathwasn’tsuicide.”
Gillian stops in her tracks. “My god, how chilling.”
“I know, it’s horrific in a whole other way.”
She shakes her head. “You just don’t think of things like that happening in this area—it’s so peaceful in these parts—but I guess no place is immune. A young woman who volunteered with us was murdered four years ago this month.”
My breath catches. “You don’t mean Jess Nolan, do you?”
Gillian nods.
“I was told she volunteered at an animal shelter,” I say, “but I didn’t know it was this one.”
“Yes, we were all devastated. And so, in fact, was Jamie.”
My jaw nearly hits the ground. “What do you mean?”
“I think I mentioned that Jamie helped us put together a new financial plan. Jess was volunteering here at the time, and they got to know each other. He was kind of a mentor to her—I think she had a little crush on him, actually.”
I feel a weird ripple of unease. “Oh,” I manage. “And yes, what a sad story. Well, I’d better dash. And thanks again for finding a home for Maverick.”
