There was no telling until she got up her gumption and went inside, though, and so she did. Nobody jumped out from behind a chair to arrest her, and Ms. O’Donnell wasn’t waiting around to give her a pink slip. In fact, the first thing Courtney noticed was that she didn’t see the owner around at all.

  “Hey, Jessi.” Courtney tried to sound as casual as possible, despite the events of the previous day. “Have you seen Ms. O’Donnell this morning? I wanted to ask her about a few things.”

  Jessi brushed her short dark hair out of her eyes as she got the main computer booted up for the day. “No, not yet. But she doesn’t usually come in until later anyway. If she even comes in at all.”

  “Is there a reason she doesn’t spend much time here? I mean, if she’s the owner, I’d think she’d want to be pretty involved.” Especially with a brand-new manager who’d lost an expensive dog and been accused of stealing it on the very first day. Courtney had no idea what kind of relationship Ms. O’Donnell had with the rest of the staff, so this question could be out of line. She was starting not to care.

  The rescue worker shrugged as she straightened a stack of paperwork and turned on the printer. “I don’t know. That’s just how it’s always been, at least since I’ve worked here.”

  “Gotcha.” Courtney felt awkward, not yet into that comfortable swing of working a job she knew like the back of her hand. She wondered if it would ever change for her. “I know I didn’t get much of a chance to help you yesterday. Is there anything you need from me?”

  “Nah, at least not right now. I might need some help with walking later in the afternoon, though.”

  “Can do.” Courtney threaded her way through the reception area and into her office, sitting down at her desk. She’d hardly had her backside in the chair at all the previous day, and she figured she ought to take the opportunity while she could. The top drawer held a typical array of pens, pencils, and little notepads with the shelter’s logo emblazoned across the top. The next drawer was full of file folders. Rifling through them, Courtney realized they were employee records.

  This was perfect! If anyone here had a criminal record that might point to a motive for stealing Sir Glitter, she could give Detective Fletcher some information that would point him in a different direction. In a way, it felt like she was betraying her own employees. She didn’t want to accuse anyone falsely, because she certainly hadn’t enjoyed being accused herself. However, desperate times called for desperate measures. Besides, she was the manager. She had every right to look though these files.

  The influx of doggie daycare folks hadn’t started yet, so Courtney flipped open the first file she came across. Dora Grant’s name was written along the tab in an unfamiliar handwriting, possibly Ms. O’Donnell’s, but more likely the previous manager, considering how little the owner had to do with her own business. Inside, however, Courtney realized this file had probably been created even before the previous manager. Dora had been with the Curly Bay Pet Hotel and Rescue back when it was simply a rescue. Courtney would need to look up some dates, but she wouldn’t be surprised if Dora’s hire date coincided with the day the doors first opened. Her resume, which included some good references from local veterinarians and a pet grooming school, was clipped inside. Courtney looked through everything, finding all the typical information she expected. There was no reference to any record, and whoever had hired Dora had done a criminal background check. The woman had been clean as of the day she’d been hired, but something might’ve happened after that/

  “Hey!”

  Courtney reeled back in her chair in surprise. The seat tipped further back than seemed safe, causing her to fling out her arms for balance. The file folder and all its contents went scattering to the floor underneath her desk. She dove to her knees to scoop them all back up again.

  “I didn’t mean to scare you, but I called your name several times.” It was Dora, and she advanced across the room. “I’ll help you get those.”

  “No! I mean, it’s fine. I’ve got it. I was just in my own little world. I guess I need to get some coffee going.” With shaking hands, Courtney stuffed the papers back into the file, not even paying attention to the order or if they were facing the right direction, and crammed the folder back into the desk. “What did you need me for?”

  “I was going to tell you we need to put in a supply order. I’m getting low on several types of shampoo, and I need a new set of nail trimmers for large dogs.” Dora crossed to the coffee pot and poured a cup for herself, but she didn’t offer one to her manager.

  Courtney tried not to take offense, but that was difficult. She’d get her own coffee later when she’d calmed down. Right now, it was better to sit at her desk with her hands folded on the wooden surface so Dora wouldn’t know how shaken she was. “Sure. Is there a specific company we order from?”

  Dora stirred a heaping spoon of sugar into her coffee and rolled her eyes. “It’s all right there in that binder.”

  “Oh. Right.” Courtney was fairly sure Ms. O’Donnell hadn’t said anything about that particular binder. She flipped it open. The phone number and website were written on the inside of the cover, and a catalog had been fitted into the metal rings. Behind that were numerous invoices from previous orders. “What kind of shampoo did you need?”

  The sigh that Dora let out was long and irritable. “Never mind. I’ll just take care of it myself.”

  Courtney frowned. She hadn’t exactly been high on the food chain at her marketing firm, but she was certain nobody had been that disrespectful toward each other. Other than, of course, Sam firing her, but that was a different matter. “Dora, I know it’s difficult to get used to a new manager. I’m doing my best. But I won’t ever know what you need from me if you don’t give me a chance.”

  The woman’s face pinched together. She wasn’t convinced. “Maybe we wouldn’t have to deal with any of this if Ms. O’Donnell had just hired from within.” Dora turned and stomped out of the room, sloshing some of the coffee over the side of her cup and not even bothering to clean it up.

  Ah! So that was Dora’s problem! She was angry because she hadn’t been promoted to manager when the position came open. Although Courtney hadn’t brought her list of suspects to work with her, she made a mental note to add Dora to it.

  Now that she was alone again, she quickly flipped through the employee file on Jessi. It wasn’t nearly as old, but it didn’t have anything incriminating. There was another folder for Ms. O’Donnell, but it only listed emergency contact information.

  While she still had a little time on her hands, Courtney quickly looked through the computer system, hoping to cross-reference something about Pomeranians, Labradoodles, or show dogs. She studied the Throgmortons’ information, listing them as living on Hummingbird Lane. There were tons of large invoices, all promptly paid, for the numerous services Sir Glitter required. Courtney stifled a giggle as she saw that the spoiled dog even got mud baths and foot massages. “They treat him better than I’ve ever treated myself,” she muttered. There was no record of any previous trouble with either the dog or the owners, and she didn’t find any Labradoodles in the system.

  Her search hadn’t given her much to go on. There was nothing left but to continue on with her day, hoping she could manage to at least do most of her job right.

  Chapter Seven

  Courtney stepped into the attached garage and pushed the button, watching the door rise and let the morning sunshine in. It’d been a relatively uneventful last couple of days at the shelter, with no break in the case or even word from Detective Fletcher. Courtney now had the day off, and she was going to take advantage of it.

  The air was thick with humidity as she pulled out of the garage, but the sunshine and a gentle breeze made the late spring day absolutely beautiful. With no appointments or real agenda, Courtney toured her neighborhood. The few blocks surrounding her place were all full of more apartments, some of them small duplexes and quadplexes and a few others larger brick edifices. These gave way to little bungalows and ranches with nice yards, perfect for small families. The streets were all perfect grids and named after trees and historical figures. Children played on the sidewalks or even right out in the streets, skittering out of the way of oncoming traffic and running right back out onto the pavement once the car had passed. Dogs barked behind fences, and people lifted a hand in a friendly wave as they watered their lawns or picked up the paper.

  On the outskirts of town, Courtney found a neighborhood completely unlike what she’d already seen. The streets wound around in confusing curlicues and cul-de-sacs, all named after birds. Large homes sat proudly on massive lots of green grass, proudly sporting far too many gables or ridiculous columns. A golf course with a country club was yet another stretch of greenery, the flags fluttering in the breeze. It was all nice, but Courtney couldn’t help noticing that there was nobody in sight. Wherever the kids were, they’d been kept indoors. The only people she saw outside were from lawn service companies, hired to mow the grass. All the cars were parked in garages, without any left out on the street. It was an entirely different world here where the wealthy folks lived.

  As she headed downtown, Courtney realized that the two sides of the Curly Bay Pet Hotel and Rescue were basically the same way. On one end were those who could afford all the luxuries in life. Their owners were never faced with bathing, grooming, and nail clipping, because they could pay someone else to do it for them. The dogs and cats had fancy collars and microchips, although they were never let outside without being directly supervised. Courtney wouldn’t doubt if some of them had never gotten to go outside at all.

  For the rescues, they were just getting by doing the best they could. Jessi had told her the story of Gus, a pit bull who’d been found digging through a dumpster in desperate hope of a meal. Someone had brought him to the shelter instead, where he got a bowl full of kibble that he was always exceptionally grateful for. Gus always gave a little lick on the back of the hand to whomever happened to fill his bowl. There were plenty of others like him, too, dogs and cats who didn’t have to have anything fancy as long as they just had a roof over their heads.

  ”Don’t start thinking about that,” she said to herself as she found one of the downtown parking lots that served most of the buildings along Main Street. “Then you’ll start bringing them all home, and the landlady won’t like that at all.” Mrs. Peabody had been very straightforward about her pet policy.

  A charcoal gray sedan pulled into the parking lot as she was getting out of her car. Courtney could swear she’d seen it several times already that morning, but there was no telling how many people drove something similar. She walked on.

  She’d noted when she’d first come to Curly Bay that the main downtown area was full of old shops. These were built up close to the road, huddling against each other as they overlooked the street. Many of the buildings looked to be over a century old, some of them with fancy brickwork that modern contractors simply didn’t do. Here and there, an old sign that had been painted directly on the building decades before was left to fade out on its own, even though it had nothing to do with the business that currently resided there. Courtney wanted to get to know this town as much as possible if she was going to live here, and this seemed like the perfect start.

  Her first stop was a little bakery. After purchasing a blueberry cheesecake muffin and a cup of coffee, she sat at a table to enjoy her snack. Courtney had spent plenty of time in the city, so she was used to people coming and going without paying attention to her. It was clear that wasn’t the case in Curly Bay. A man at the corner table kept lowering his newspaper to look at her with his steely gray eyes.

  Polishing off her muffin, she moved next door to an antique shop. The owner practically bounced out from behind the counter, even though the store was crowded enough that bouncing would be a terrible idea. “Hi, there! Can I help you? Are you looking for anything in particular? I’ve got a great selection of vintage coffee mugs.”

  “No, thanks. I’m just here to look around. I’m new in town.” Courtney skirted around an antique dining table that’d been set up in the middle of the room with a very fancy tea seat.

  “Oh, really? That’s exciting! Where are you from?” The clerk followed her as they moved among various china cabinets and rolltop desks.

  “I just moved here from the city.”

  “Now, that’s interesting. Don’t get me wrong.” He held up his hands to keep her from making any hasty judgements. “I love Curly Bay. I’ve lived here almost my entire life. I just can’t figure out why anybody would want to move here from somewhere else, especially someplace exciting like the city. So many things to see and do!”

  Courtney didn’t respond, not wanting to get into the whole story about getting fired. She kept her focus on a lamp with a tasseled shade that she had no intention of buying.

  “So, where in these parts did you settle down?”

  “Oh, just a little apartment for now.” The guy seemed nice enough, but she wasn’t going to give him every detail of her life.

  “I see. Are you needing any furniture? Do have a particular style? I’ve got some great mid-century modern pieces in the back.”

  Courtney secretly hoped that not everyone in Curly Bay was as friendly and helpful as this man. “I’m good for now. Just looking around and getting to know the area.”

  “Well, I—” The clerk seemed as though he was going to make another suggestion about his inventory when the bell over the door rang. “I’m going to go see who that is. You feel free to browse around, and holler if there’s anything you need!” He disappeared through the congested aisles. A moment later, Courtney could hear him greeting the next customer. “Hi, there! Can I help you? Are you looking for anything in particular?”

  She stifled a laugh.

  When she managed to sneak back by the counter without the clerk noticing her, Courtney spotted the other customer. He was a short gentleman with narrow shoulders and dark hair. Though she couldn’t quite see his face, she was certain it was the same man who’d been staring at her back in the bakery. Courtney left, figuring that was just the way things worked in small towns.

  But then she saw the same man sitting in the lobby at the bank as she finished up opening a new checking account. He’d positioned himself behind a potted ficus, but there’d been no mistaking those cold eyes that stared at her between the leaves.

  “You’re just seeing things,” she whispered to herself as she walked across the street to a video rental store. “You’ve had a rough week here, and it’s getting to you. Everything is fine. As long as he doesn’t follow you back to your apartment, everything is fine.”

  She truly wanted to convince herself, but it was easier said than done as he lurked through the aisles of the video store, always one genre behind her. At one point, she thought she saw him take a little notepad out of his jacket pocket and scribble something down. It appeared that he keeping track of the movies titles she picked up.

  When she’d checked out, Courtney stood at the corner of the building and took out her phone. She was in full view of anyone who drove by on the busy street, and even the video clerk would be able to see her through the wide window on the front of the building.

  “Detective Fletcher,” answered a sleepy voice.

  “Hi, this is Courtney Cain.”

  Silence greeted her on the other end of the phone.

  “The one Mrs. Throgmorton accused of stealing her dog?” she reminded him.

  “Oh. Oh, yeah. Right. What can I do for you?”

  “You can tell me why you’re having me tailed,” she asserted.

  “Excuse me?”

  Courtney kept an eye on the door to the video rental store. The man who’d been following her hadn’t come out yet because she hadn’t moved away. She had no doubt he’d come out those doors as soon as she stepped off the sidewalk. “You’re having me followed, aren’t you?”

  “No. Why would I do that?”

  Did she really have to tell him how his job worked? “To find evidence. To arrest me. I don’t know. You tell me.”

  “Miss Cain, I’m not having anyone follow you. The Curly Bay Police Department is pretty severely understaffed, and I can’t say that we have the resources for that sort of thing.”

  She frowned. As aggravated as the idea of being followed made her, she didn’t really like Detective Fletcher’s answer any better. “Then how do you explain the same man following me into four different businesses?”

  His sigh came through the phone as a long breath of static. “Miss Cain, you said you moved here from the city, right?”

  “Right.”

  “So, you’re not used to small town life. You’re going to run into the same people at the hardware store and at the ice cream shop. Plus, you’re probably feeling a little paranoid—”

  “I’m not paranoid!” In fact, she thought she was holding up rather well, considering the circumstances. “I know what I saw.”

  “The brain can play some nasty little tricks,” Fletcher countered. “Why, I’ve seen people turn themselves in simply because they were tired of wondering when they’d be arrested for whatever crime they committed. Waiting is a terrible thing, whether you’re innocent or guilty.”

  She rolled her eyes. The only waiting that was truly terrible right now was waiting to see if Detective Fletcher would shut up anytime soon. “Okay. Fine. Thanks, then.” She hung up, hoping that she never needed the Curly Bay Police Department for anything.

  The idea of being followed, whether it was someone from the police department or otherwise, made Courtney a bit sick to her stomach. She charged down the sidewalk, no longer appreciating the sun on her shoulders or the breeze in her dark hair. Instead, she dove into a burger joint at the end of the block and ordered a soda.

 

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