Chapter 5
“Let me get this straight,” Pierce said, his voice tight on the other end of the wireless connection. “You’re at the clinic? The veterinary clinic, with Billy Huber’s dog?”
“Arlo. That’s the dog’s name,” Nikki said from the privacy of the clinic’s parking lot. “At least according to the tag on his collar.”
“I told you not to—”
“And he was shot,” she said, cutting Pierce off before he went ballistic over the phone.
“Shot?”
“Yeah,” she said moving to the shade of a small dogwood tree. “Dr. Vasquez found bird shot in his backside. Right near his tail. Surprisingly, not serious. I told the vet to keep the pellets for the department.” He didn’t reply and was obviously still trying to rein in his anger, so she barreled on. “They’re keeping Arlo here for observation until someone from animal services comes for him, but I was thinking that maybe we could—”
“Stop. Right there. We don’t need another dog.”
“I know, but Mikado’s getting old and—”
“And we have a houseful as it is.”
“You’re the one who invited Lily and Phee to come live with us,” she reminded him.
“I know, but you needed help and …” He paused, then added, “Look, I’ve got another call coming in. It’s a ‘no’ on the dog, and you’re not to go back to the Huber place until we’re done—no, wait. Don’t go there at all. Nikki, seriously, we discussed you staying away from crime scenes.”
And they had. But not for a long while. Not since directly after the case of the missing Duval girls had been solved and she’d written the book about it. Now, though …
She countered with, “I think we should reopen the discussion.”
“Not now,” he said, then, “I really have to go.”
“Okay. Love you,” she said, and she meant it.
He sighed, but added, “Love you, too,” then clicked off.
She blew out her breath. She hated these fights, but their marriage was full of the pushes and pulls needed to keep them both aware of each other’s needs and wants. Before she went back into the clinic, she called Lily to check on Chloe.
“I’m loading up the car now,” Lily told her. “Mom called, and she wants to go to lunch at the country club, if you can believe that.”
“You’re surprised?”
“No, I guess not. But, God, I hate that place. It’s so … what’s the right word …?”
“Fake? Hypocritical? Pretentious?”
“All of the above.”
“It’s everything you hate and Mom loves.”
“That’s it! But if it’ll get her to eat, then fine. I’ll suffer through the stuffy pseudosophistication and snobby hypocrisy.”
Nikki smothered a smile as she stepped onto the sidewalk outside the vet. An older Toyota Camry pulled into the lot and aimed for a handicapped spot. As soon as the car was parked, the driver, a woman with a cloud of white hair, climbed out and retrieved a cat carrier from the back seat.
“Mom just can’t get over the fact that she was the wife of a judge,” Lily was saying. “Big Ron Gillette. Dad’s been gone nearly ten years, and she still wears her rings and the mantle, or more precisely the tiara, of being his missus, if you know what I mean.”
“Queen Bee.”
“Yeah, that’s it. And she called to make sure that I would wear adress and that the girls would “dress appropriately” as well. No jeans, you know. God, are we stuck in the nineteen-fifties, or what?”
“Maybe the sixties.”
