Faith looked to see Jessica pointing at a name on the screen.Marcus Elliot, veterinary behaviorist.He was featured in a magazine article from five months prior where he insisted that euthanasia was the correct choice for most dogs identified as having behavioral issues.“He names all three victims in the article,” Jessica told her.
Faith nodded.“Thank you for your time, Mr.Oakley.”
“May I have an email address to provide my alibi?”
“That won’t be necessary.Sorry to bother you.”
“Oh.All right.Good luck, special agent.”
He hung up, and Faith asked Jessica, “Really?He named our victims?”
“He mentioned that he spoke with Sarah Garrett at the Plano Animal Shelter, and she resisted the idea of euthanasia.He only mentioned Martin Brooks and Linda Hale in passing, but in both cases, he was referencing staff who allowed emotions to outweigh science.The general thrust of the article was that fully trained veterinary professionals were better equipped to know when euthanasia was correct than untrained ‘wage workers’ who didn’t understand canine psychology.”
“Hmm.”Faith rubbed her chin.“Oakley said Sarah Garrett mentioned that a Dr.Elliot threatened her.This was in the middle of her yelling at him, so it looks like the threat was serious enough to scare her.Maybe there’s something here.”
“He lives here in Plano,” Jessica said.“It might be worth a visit.”
Faith checked the clock.They were running out of time.“Let’s hope so.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
“Well, well, well,” Jessica said.“The plot thickens.”
Faith raised an eyebrow but kept her eyes on the road as she exited the freeway.“How so?”
“It looks like Dr.Elliot lost his practice about two weeks after that article was published.It seems people didn’t take too kindly to the idea of a veterinarian advocating for euthanasia.His contracts were all canceled, and his clients dropped him.At least five of them paid the breach of contract fees without protest.One chose mediation but settled three weeks later.”
“Damn.Talk about a fall from grace.”
“A serious one.The breach of contract fees should have been enough to pay his bills for a while until he got on his feet, but the damage to his reputation is probably permanent.”
“People don’t like people who don’t like dogs,” Faith agreed, parking in front of a small but nice-looking single-story ranch home on the northern edge of Plano.
She stepped out and led Jessica and Turk to the door, scanning the house’s exterior as she did.The lawn was overgrown and sported several patches that were covered with weeds, some of them several feet tall.Dirt covered the house, and while the paint wasn’t peeling yet, it was clear that no attention had been given to the place for some time.
These not-so-subtle signs indicated someone who had given up.Another way to put that was someone who had nothing to lose and might not be deterred from taking out his anger on the people he blamed for losing everything.
“No dog,” Jessica observed.“One wonders why a man who didn’t love animals pursued a career in animal behavior.”
“Money, probably,” Faith guessed.“ThatDog Whispererguy is a multimillionaire with acres of land in Los Angeles County.”
“ThatDog Whispererguy absolutely adores dogs,” Jessica reminded Faith.
“Touché.”
Faith knocked on the door.Turk stood in between the two human agents, alert as usual with ears up, eyes forward, tail switching slowly back and forth.
The door opened a moment later, revealing a man in his late forties who had dyed black hair in a thick ring around a head topped with a shiny bald crown.The hair that remained was bushy and unkempt, and a thick gray stubble sprouted from the base of his neck halfway up his cheekbones.His eyes were bloodshot, the reddened sclera surrounding pupils that looked as dark as the hair.He wore a bathrobe that thankfully covered a white t-shirt and a pair of long, baggy boxers that hung to his knees.The faint scent of body odor wafted off him, not quite enough to be unbearable but hinting that it was heading that direction.Interesting that he would dye his hair but make no other attempt to care for his appearance.
“Dr.Marcus Elliot?”Faith asked.
The man blinked at them.Then he laughed, a loud, staccato bark that caused Turk’s tail to stop swishing.He looked at Faith incredulously.Faith had no explanation to offer.
He lifted his hands to his eyes and got his giggles under control.“Oh, man.Oh, that’s funny.Let me guess.You think I killed Sarah Garrett, Matthew Brooks and Linda Hale.”
Faith raised an eyebrow.“We had some questions to ask about that, yes.”
He giggled again.“Oh, boy.All right.Come on in.”
