The Scottie Barked At Midnight (3 page)

“Drink your milk,” Liss said.

Sherri grimaced. She'd said thank you for the chicken-salad sandwich on freshly baked whole-wheat bread and the pint-size carton of milk Liss had brought her from Patsy's, but she gazed at the cup in Liss's hand with the look of desire she usually reserved for chocolate cupcakes and sexy male movie stars. “I'm reduced to getting my caffeine fix from sniffing the air,” she grumbled. “I ask you, is that fair?”

Liss knew better than to reply. “When do you go on maternity leave?”

“Bite your tongue. I'd be bored to tears sitting around the house all day. Not that there aren't tons of things to be done, but Pete will pitch a fit if I try to paint the baby's room on my own or, God forbid, do any heavy lifting.”

In January, Pete and Sherri, together with their daughter Amber and Sherri's son, Adam, had moved out of their small upstairs apartment overlooking the square and into a four-bedroom house on the outskirts of town. It was a fixer-upper that had been about 80 percent fixed by previous owners. Odd jobs remained, such as putting up the molding in the living room and installing closet doors in the bedrooms. When they could afford it, Sherri wanted to rip out all the wall-to-wall carpeting and restore the oak floors beneath. That was another project she couldn't take on until after she had the baby.

Sherri took a sip of her milk and made a face.

Liss grinned and handed her a napkin. “Mustache.”

“Perfect.” She scrubbed at her upper lip and then got back to business. “No one's called here about a missing pet, but I'll keep checking around. Will the dog be staying at Audrey's?”

“I'll be keeping her at home with me until I find her owner. Foster care. Audrey doesn't have a lot of room.”

“Guilt much? I get that you feel responsible, but we do have a perfectly nice animal shelter in Fallstown for all of Carrabassett County. They never euthanize healthy animals, so you don't have to worry about that.”

“I wouldn't feel right abandoning her, and it goes against the grain to keep a dog caged up. She's the sweetest little thing.” Liss could feel a sappy smile spreading over her face. “She seems to like me. Scottish terriers don't take to everyone, you know. They can be quite aloof with strangers.”

Sherri just shook her head. “I'll keep my ears open and send out some feelers, but if the dog belongs to a tourist or someone deliberately left her by the side of the road, you may end up stuck with a permanent houseguest.”

Liss stood, depositing the baggie that had held her ham and cheese sandwich and her empty coffee cup in Sherri's trash can. “I can think of worse fates.” She reached for the coat she'd tossed onto the top of the second desk.

“Uh, Liss?”

Already at the door, Liss looked back. Sherri's face wore a look of concern, but Liss also detected a hint of laughter in her friend's eyes.

“Have you thought about how Lumpkin and Glenora will feel about sharing their space? I mean . . . she's a
dog.
”

“I'm sure they'll adjust.”

Sherri's laughter followed her out of the office.

Second thoughts, and third, assaulted Liss on the short walk to the small-animal clinic, but her first glimpse of the Scottie's expression when she caught sight of Liss vanquished any doubt. She was doing the right thing.

“She does look happy to see you,” Audrey admitted, “and this time she's already been fed.”

“From the way she's dancing around her cage, I can tell she's not hurting any.”

“I told you. Minor bruises. Any luck finding her owner? I can't keep her here much longer. I need the cage.”

All the others were occupied. One contained a parrot; the remainder held dogs or cats in various stages of healing. Several people had apparently decided this was the day to “spay or neuter your pet,” following the advice so often heard in public-service announcements.

“If you'll sell me a collar and leash,” Liss said, “I'll take her home with me. Temporarily, of course, since I'm sure someone's looking for her.”

A short time later, Liss unlocked her back door, scooped up the Scottie, and stepped into the kitchen. Both cats materialized out of nowhere. Lumpkin, the Maine Coon cat, caught sight of the dog first. His head shot up, as did his tail, which instantly puffed up to twice its normal size. Glenora, smaller and coal black, went up on her hind feet, trying to get a better look at the newcomer.

“Now, guys—play nice.”

Moving slowly, Liss lowered the Scottish terrier to all fours. She was quivering with excitement, anxious to investigate these new and interesting creatures, one of whom was bigger than she was.

“Lumpkin. Glenora. This is—” She broke off, momentarily stumped. She had to call the dog something.
Sweetie
was just too cutesy.
Wee Jock
was a cliché, aside from being the wrong gender. Pets belonging to past presidents had led to the overuse of
Fala
and
Barney
for Scottish terriers. Then it came to her—the perfect nickname for an animal that had narrowly escaped being run over by a car. “For now, we're going to call this pooch
Lucky,
” she informed her feline housemates. “Be polite to her. She's a guest.”

All high spirits and friendliness, Lucky danced up to the two cats. Glenora bristled and spat. Lumpkin's ears went back. That was the only warning before he struck out, slashing at Lucky's nose. The Scottie backpedaled so fast that she tumbled ass over teakettle.

“That's enough!” Liss grabbed for Lucky, meaning to lift her out of harm's way, but the crisis had already passed.

Lumpkin sat down and began to wash his nether regions. Glenora turned her back, flicked her tail, and stalked out of the room. Trailing her leash, Lucky discovered a dish containing leftover dry cat food and chowed down. Liss collapsed onto one of the kitchen chairs.

“That went well,” she muttered.

Now all she had to do was figure out how to keep the two cats and the dog apart when she was at work. If she didn't, she had a feeling she'd come home to chaos.

Maybe this hadn't been such a brilliant idea, after all, but she and Lucky had been through a lot together. She wasn't about to abandon the Scottie now.

Liss coped by making a list of all the things she still had to do that day. She'd just finished writing when the phone rang. The caller ID told her Moosetookalook Police Department was on the other end of the line, but she had to let the call go to the answering machine. Lumpkin was stalking Lucky.

He pounced just as Liss attempted to intervene. She separated the two combatants, but not before she acquired a long, deep scratch on the back of her left forearm.

“Good news,” Sherri announced after the beep. “I know who owns that Scottish terrier you found. Her name is Deidre Amendole. Give me a call and I'll tell you how to get the pooch back to her.”

With mixed feelings, Liss reached for the receiver. Her hand froze in midair when Sherri added one more sentence to her message.

“By the way—she was dognapped.”

Chapter Two

“O
h, my God! Is Mama's baby okay? Did the bad man hurt ums?”

Bad
man?
Liss wondered what man she meant, but there was no point in asking. Clutching her lost “baby” tight to her bosom, her face buried in the little dog's wiry black coat, Deidre Amendole rocked back and forth, filling the crisp, early evening air with heart-wrenching sobs. She seemed oblivious to the fact that she was standing in an open doorway in early March.

According to Sherri, the Scottie, whose name turned out to be Dandy, had been spirited away from Deidre's condo on the grounds of Five Mountains Ski Resort the previous afternoon by person or persons unknown. Taken for ransom? It was possible. These condos didn't come cheap. But how on earth had the little dog ended up running loose a good thirty miles to the south?

Liss had to smile at Dandy's obvious delight at being reunited with her owner. It was equally obvious that the dog thought being squashed, even as a display of love and relief, was unnecessary. When a second Scottish terrier materialized from inside the condo to welcome the prodigal pup home, Dandy squirmed in Deidre's arms, anxious to get down and greet her little buddy. The weeping woman wouldn't let go. She hugged Dandy tighter, and the volume of her sobbing increased.

Deidre Amendole was a good two decades older than Liss and at least eight inches shorter. She had deep-set, dark brown eyes and hair that had been dyed jet-black, worn short with overlong bangs. The resemblance to Dandy was remarkable, and it didn't end with her face. Like her dogs, Deidre had a strong, muscular build and short, sturdy legs. She was dressed all in black. The velour tracksuit was a bit too snug in places and emphasized her lack of stature, but it also heightened her similarity to a Scottish terrier.

Left standing on the condo's small front stoop, which was open to the elements, Liss shivered as the last of the day's warmth vanished along with the setting sun. At this time of year, dusk lapsed into night very quickly. It occurred to her that she could slip quietly away, return to her car, and drive home, but the few details Sherri had given her had made her intensely curious.

Another five minutes passed before the waterworks shut off. Deidre freed one hand, dabbed ineffectually at her dripping nose with a crumpled tissue, and lifted her head to focus red-rimmed eyes on Liss. “How can I ever thank you for rescuing my baby?”

Too choked up to say more, she scooped up the second Scottie and backed into the condo's small foyer, indicating that Liss should follow her inside. Still sniffling, she led the way into the main part of the condo.

Liss closed the front door behind her and hurried after the trio, stripping off her woolly hat, warm gloves, and heavy winter coat as she went. Three steps down and a left turn brought her into a large living room with a cathedral ceiling and a spectacular view, through floor-to-ceiling windows, of a snow-covered mountainside laced with ski trails.

Avid skiers with less extravagant tastes, or less ready cash, stayed at local hotels and motels, including The Spruces, the hundred-plus-year-old hotel owned by Liss's father-in-law. Since Five Mountains Ski Resort was only a half-hour drive from Moosetookalook, The Spruces ran a shuttle to the slopes several times a day for the convenience of those guests who had come to Maine for the downhill skiing or the snowboarding. Closer to home, The Spruces offered alternative winter sports on-site—ice skating, snowshoeing, and cross-country skiing.

Although Liss had often glimpsed the condos at Five Mountains from the road—there were dozens of them, all identical—this was the first time she had ever been inside of one of the units. The furnishings were as luxurious as she'd imagined, including leather chairs and sofas, an enormous flat-screen TV, a built-in bookcase—its shelves filled with curios and one or two actual books—and a huge stone fireplace containing the ashes of a recent blaze. A small stack of split wood was piled nearby, together with a box of kindling. There were no family photos or other personal touches, making Liss suspect that the place was either a time-share or a rental. The only things in the room that looked as if they belonged to the owner of two Scottish terriers were flung carelessly on an end table—several catalogs for pet products and a copy of the current year's glossy
Fabulous Dogs
calendar.

Two women rose from the sofa as Deidre led Liss in. They were the same height, a few inches shorter than Liss, and both had long dark brown hair. Those were the only similarities between them. Since neither one resembled Deidre, Liss was surprised to hear the older woman introduce the skinnier of the two as her daughter, Desdemona Amendole.

“This is the wonderful woman who rescued Dandy.” Deidre started to add a name and realized she'd never asked for one.

“Liss Ruskin,” Liss supplied. “Hello.”

Desdemona responded by offering to take Liss's coat, although all she did was toss it over the back of a nearby chair. Her attention focused on Dandy, she spoke in quick bursts of sound. “She looks okay to me. I thought you said she'd been hurt.”

“Just a few bruises,” Liss said before Deidre could answer.

Desdemona took the Scottie from her mother and held the little dog up in front of her, scrutinizing Dandy's movements as she wriggled and tried to lick the end of Desdemona's sharp patrician nose. In the process, Desdemona's sleeves fell back to reveal arms that had shrunk well past thin to enter matchstick territory.

The daughter, Liss thought, looked more like an Irish wolfhound than a Scottish terrier. Or maybe a whippet. Desdemona carried Dandy into the kitchen area, separated from the living room by a waist-high counter. The unmistakable sound of a can being opened caused the second Scottie to try to leap out of Deidre's arms.

She set him down on the carpet. “Go ahead, Dondi. You may have a little snack while your sister eats her din-din.”

Liss glanced at the other young woman, who had resumed her seat on the couch. Deidre had not bothered to introduce her, but she obviously felt at home in the condo. Liss put her age at no more than twenty. She had a fresh-faced, schoolgirl look about her, especially where her cheeks retained a hint of baby fat. She wore no makeup that Liss could detect. She didn't need to. She'd been blessed with a peaches-and-cream complexion. Tiny silver hearts dangling from her earlobes were the only ornaments she used to augment her natural beauty.

“Hi. I'm Liss Ruskin.” She held out her hand.

Smiling warmly, the young woman grasped Liss's fingers with a firm grip. “Iris Jansen, magician's assistant.”

“Excuse me?”

“Didn't you know?” Deidre sounded surprised. “We're here at Five Mountains for the champion of champions competition.”

Unenlightened, Liss looked from Deidre to Iris and back again. “Champions of what?”

Deidre blew out an impatient breath. “
Variety Live.
Don't tell me you've never heard of it? It's one of the highest-rated reality competition shows on television.”

Liss hesitated before she responded. It probably wouldn't go over well if she confessed that the only televised competition she ever watched was
Dancing with the Stars,
and she wasn't religious about that. In general, she didn't care for televised competitions, and she liked other sorts of reality TV even less. A situation comedy, a British mystery on PBS, or a rerun of
Firefly
was more to her taste. What was even more common at her house was for Dan to watch a Red Sox or Patriots game while she buried her nose in a book.

“I'm afraid I haven't seen it,” she admitted.

“Oh, my dear!” Deidre strode straight to the cabinet beneath the flat-screen TV, opened the doors, and pulled out a boxed set of DVDs. “You must take these as your reward for finding Dandy. It's the season we won. Some of our finest performances are here. Of course, Deidre and her Dancing Doggies are working on entirely new and truly spectacular routines for the rest of the current season.”

Her mind boggling, Liss took the case Deidre thrust into her hands. “The, er, champions competition?”

“That's right. We're recording the next few shows, including the finale, here at Five Mountains. Iris is the competition,” she added, trilling a laugh, “but we love her, anyway.”

“She's one of the few Mother doesn't suspect of having a hand in Dandy's disappearance,” Desdemona said as she emerged from the kitchen area, the two Scotties trotting after her.

As if the comment embarrassed her, Iris concentrated on coaxing the two dogs to come to her, but patting her lap and making little kissing sounds had no effect. Both Dandy and Dondi ignored her.

Dognapped, Liss remembered. “You said someone took Dandy?”

“It was a blatant attempt to eliminate us from the competition.” Deidre stated this so emphatically that Liss had no choice but to believe her.

“I've had some experience with competitions myself,” she admitted. “Scottish dancing. Fortunately, no one ever resorted to dirty tricks to keep me from winning.”

“Tell us, please, how you found my little darling.”

At Deidre's urging, Liss took a seat in one of the armchairs across from the sofa and obliged. As she related what had happened, she couldn't help noticing how twitchy Desdemona was. She started out perched on the edge of one end of the sofa. Unable to sit still, she crossed and uncrossed her legs, then crossed them again and waggled one foot. She put the foot down and began to drum her fingers on one knee. After a minute or two of that, she got up, retrieved the dog dishes from the floor of the kitchen area, and rinsed them in the sink.

“I was already looking for Dandy's owner when the local chief of police contacted me,” Liss concluded.

Desdemona wandered over to the window and stared out at the moonlit slopes.

“Until then, I assumed she'd simply wandered off and become lost. Even though she didn't have a collar, it was obvious she wasn't a stray.”

Desdemona crossed to the fireplace to begin making random designs in the cold ashes with an ornate poker.

“I just can't thank you enough for bringing her back to me,” Deidre said. Once again, there were tears in her eyes.

“Do you have any idea which of your competitors took Dandy?”

Deidre scowled as she knuckled away the moisture. “It could have been any of them. Ruthless. Every one. Vile, villainous, ruthless creatures.” She glanced at Iris. “Present company excluded, of course.”

Iris's cheeks were tinged with red, but she waved away Deidre's apology. “Not everyone is pleasant to work with,” she murmured.

“Why are you so certain Dandy's disappearance had something to do with this competition?” Liss asked.

“What else could it be? Dandy and Dondi have a very high rating among voting viewers. That's why I went straight to hotel security when I discovered my baby was missing, and why I told them they must keep investigating until the police can make an arrest.”

“They're not going to do anything now that she's been found.” With a clatter, Desdemona thrust the poker back in the rack with the other fireplace tools.

Deidre's lower lip trembled. “But they must.”

Liss's heart went out to her. She knew how she'd feel if someone took Lumpkin or Glenora. But Desdemona was right. Even for the private security firm employed by Five Mountains, finding an alleged dognapper would be low on the list of priorities.

“Did they find anything to indicate how Dandy was taken without you being aware of it?”

To Liss's surprise, it was Iris who answered. “They didn't want to believe her at first. They couldn't find any evidence that anyone had broken into the condo, so they said Deidre must have left the door open and Dandy just wandered off. As if!”

“Then they said if she'd really been taken, I'd probably get a ransom note.” Sniffling, Deidre had to blow her nose before she could continue. “If only it were that simple. I knew there'd be no demand for money.”

Iris reached out to pat her hand. “Don't overexcite yourself, Deidre. Everything's fine now. You have your little Dandy back.”

“And I won't let her out of my sight again, believe you me.” A fierce gleam in her eyes, Deidre was about to say more when a telephone rang.

Desdemona answered. “Yes,” she said to the caller. “I suppose so.” With an abrupt movement, she passed the instrument to her mother. “Valentine Veilleux wants to talk to you.”

Deidre's eyes glowed with pleasure. Her voice was warm as she spoke into the receiver. “Hello, dear. How nice of you to call. Yes, Dandy's back home. Isn't it wonderful?”

Iris tapped Liss on the arm and handed her the calendar she had noticed earlier. “Valentine is the photographer who took the pictures. Dandy and Dondi are the featured dogs for June.”

Liss flipped pages until she came to a shot of the two Scotties. Standing on their stubby little hind legs, with Dandy wearing a skirt, they bore an uncanny resemblance to a couple dancing a waltz. Or maybe it was a cha-cha.

“She's a wonderful photographer, isn't she?” There was a breathy, little-girl quality to Iris's voice when she waxed enthusiastic. “She's been taking pictures for a
Variety Live
calendar for next year. Whoever wins the competition will be on the cover.”

Can't top that for an exit line,
Liss thought. She gave the calendar back to Iris and stood. “Best of luck to you all. I really have to get going now.”

She bent to stroke Dandy in farewell, glad the Scottie was back where she belonged. Deidre was weird, but it was obvious she loved the two Scottish terriers and took good care of them. Liss had no business feeling sad because she had to leave the little dog behind. “Lucky” had never been hers to begin with.