Chihuahua of the Baskervilles (28 page)

“Why on earth would you do such a thing?” Charlotte asked Cheri.

“It was just for fun.” Tears welled in Cheri’s eyes. “I used some glow paint of my own to paint a Chihuahua shape on a balloon. Jay hid in the neighbor’s yard and held on to the end of the balloon’s thread.”

Suki shook her head. “So low-tech.”

Jay continued the story. “When Thomas was so horrible to you afterward, saying you were crazy and all, Cheri decided to make Petey tell you to leave him. She got me to help make the dog voice.”

“Divorce Thomas,”
Charlotte said.

“But you took him back,” Cheri said glumly.

Michael looked at Jay and Cheri. “How did you make Petey talk?”

Jay answered. “There was a recording of Petey on the Web site. Cheri did the talking part. I modified her voice and tacked it on to the end of Petey’s howl. We put about twenty minutes of silence in front, so Cheri could hide the player and some mini speakers in the dog tunnel out back and have time to get away.”

Cheri nodded. “And after everyone went to bed, I snuck out and brought the equipment inside.”

Jay looked at Charlotte. “When you gave Thomas another chance, Cheri decided Petey’s ghost should come back and let you know you were doing the wrong thing. She’d found a glow costume by then, and we put it on Ludwig, my mom’s dog.”

Cheri wiped at the tears running down her face. “I put Ludwig in our front yard and told him to stay. Then I ran across the street to hide.”

“I was in the backyard, behind the workshop,” Jay said. “We had our cell phones, and Cheri was going to tell me when to whistle, so Ludwig would run around the back of the house. Then I’d grab him and go through the gate into the neighbor’s yard.”

“But the costume made Ludwig all nervous,” Cheri continued. “When Thomas started chasing him, he totally freaked out and ran into the street.” She began to sob. “Grandpa was awful, but I didn’t mean to kill him, I swear.”

Charlotte leaned over and put her arm around her granddaughter. “I believe you, honey. What did you do with the glow costume?”

“I put it back in Ellen’s room, where I found it.”

Charlotte slowly turned her head to look at Ellen, seated across the table.

Ellen stared at the ceiling for a moment, exhaling slowly. “I love you, Charlotte, I do, but you can be so controlling.”

“Someone has to be the boss, you know.”

“You’re more like a parent, talking about how we’re in this together,
you and me, kid,
and then handing over my allowance like I’m a child who does chores instead of the designer for this company.” Ellen shook her head in frustration. “I guess we should talk about that part in private.”

“I think so, yes,” Charlotte said. “Just tell me about this costume.”

Ellen smiled wryly. “Well, as my lawyer will point out, it was for my own personal use, and designed for a cat, not a dog.”

Charlotte gave a sharp laugh. “I think I would have noticed if you owned a cat.”

“I have friends who own cats,” Ellen said.

Cheri rolled her eyes. “It fit Ludwig perfectly.”

Ellen nodded. “Chihuahuas are very similar to cats in shape. My lawyer would also point out that I could press charges against you, Cheri, for coming into my room and stealing my property.”

Cheri slumped in her chair and stared at her mug of hot chocolate.

Suki looked at Ellen. “Was the costume in the shoe box you took to your car?”

“Were you spying on me?” Ellen demanded.

Suki raised her brows. “I happened to be sitting in the parlor, looking out at the moon.”

“Wait a minute.” Charlotte raised both hands. “Ellen, you must have realized the costume was involved in Thomas’s death. Why didn’t you tell me or the police about it?”

“Are you kidding? When that costume showed up in my room that night, wet and muddy, I figured whoever put it back had killed Thomas and was trying to frame me.” She gestured to Angus. “It didn’t help that these jokers told the cops there was glow-in-the-dark paint in my bathroom. It seemed safest to get rid of the costume, so I took it out of the house and burned the damn thing.”

“You
burned
it?” Charlotte looked disgruntled. “Did you at least keep a pattern? Was it any good?”

Ellen leaned forward. “It was outstanding. That is, as cat costumes go.” She smiled and took a sip of her coffee.

Cheri bit her lip and looked at Charlotte with pleading eyes. “Do we have to tell the police about this? No matter what happens, I promise to stop drinking.”

Charlotte gazed at her sadly. “I don’t think we’ll bring the police into this, but you do know you’re going to rehab, right?”

“Yeah,” Cheri sighed.

Ivan crossed his arms. “She has been in rehab twice, yes? I don’t think it is working.”

Jay turned to Cheri. “He’s right. I think you’re mostly bored. Why don’t you find something you want to do and start taking classes?”

Cheri huffed sarcastically. “This from a guy who lives with his mom.”

Jay pointed at her. “Hey, I’m looking at sound-design schools in Europe.”

“You’re leaving the country?” Cheri pouted.

Charlotte sighed. “It’s hard for me to believe all this was going on, right under my nose.” She glanced at Angus. “You must think I’m very foolish.”

“No, just wrapped up in your business,” Angus said. “Bringing things out into the open should help clear the air.” He gave Ivan a significant look. “Confession is good for the soul.”

Ivan returned his gaze blandly.

Charlotte pushed back her chair. “Angus, I’d like to talk with you in the upstairs parlor, if that’s all right.”

“Certainly.” Angus rose and glanced at Ivan again.

Ivan stared implacably back, his throat vibrating in a barely audible growl.

Suki got up from the table as well. “Hey, Ivan. Want to go for a walk?”

His head swiveled toward her and the growl vanished. “Okay, Princess.”

*   *   *

Upstairs, Charlotte ushered Angus into the parlor that adjoined her room and closed the hall door behind them. Then she sat on the settee and patted the spot next to her. “Let’s talk business—specifically, the magazine business. You and your staff have been very helpful throughout this ordeal.”

Angus leaned against the upholstered seat back and crossed his legs. “I saved your life.”

“Yes, you did. And in return, I think you should be able to publish the story of Petey’s ghost. Minus the spider, of course.”

“As I see it, the main question is whether you can keep your people quiet.”

Charlotte nodded. “I have to make Ellen partner, that’s clear. She’ll see the wisdom of not dirtying the family’s image.” Charlotte drummed her fingers on one knee. “Perhaps Cheri would enjoy going to a school in Europe. I always said that Jay was a smart boy.”

“And then there’s Ivan.” Angus opened his mouth to say more, but remembered the growl and kept silent. Yes, Ivan had known about the paternity test, but that didn’t absolutely mean that Ivan had paid Thomas’s lawyer and detective bills. And it wasn’t as if those activities had put Charlotte in real danger.

Charlotte looked thoughtful. “Ivan would sell the whole story without a second thought. It might be time to throw him a bone. Maybe Petey’s Closet is ready for some television ads, or Ivan could appear on a few talk shows, to promote the company.”

“He’ll need to have his teeth fixed,” Angus said.

Charlotte slapped her thigh. “Teeth fixed, and out of the will.”

“Good idea. I’m sure he’ll do Petey’s Closet proud,” Angus said.

Charlotte nodded. “Then that’s settled. Write all you want about a ghost, but if you mention my family’s part in it, I’ll sue you from here to hell and back.”

Angus grinned. “It’s a deal.”

“And I’ll need your subscription list, so I can mail a Petey’s Closet catalog to all of
Tripping
’s readers.”

Angus’s grin didn’t falter. “Possibly. Of course, you’d miss newsstand readers that way. I recommend a year’s worth of advertising, just to be sure.
Tripping
has some very attractive rates.”

*   *   *

Ivan and Suki walked uphill along Ruxton Avenue. A cold breeze blew, and black tree branches waved in front of lighted windows. A few TV screens glowed and flickered inside the houses they passed.

Suki linked her arm through Ivan’s. “Did you take the file with the detective reports?”

He stared ahead, stone-faced. “Ivan would not take anything that wasn’t already his.”

“So you gave Thomas money to hire them, and he promised to help you once he got control of Charlotte’s money.”

Ivan frowned. “I admit nothing. But business is like war. Sometimes you make alliances with people you do not like.”

“And now Thomas is gone, Bob is gone, and Cheri is going into rehab. You have Charlotte almost to yourself, but she’s no pushover, Ivan.”

“A dog-training show would make Petey’s Closet famous!” Ivan’s dark brows pulled together, and his chin jutted slightly. “Ellen will help convince Charlotte to make the show, and I will convince Charlotte to make Ellen partner.”

“That must be what you two were talking about at the coffin race,” Suki said, almost to herself. “I saw you say the word
proposal
.”

“You have been watching Ivan,” he said complacently. “That is good.”

Suki rolled her eyes. “It seems to me that a dog-training show isn’t an ideal vehicle for advertising Petey’s Closet, unless you’re going to train dogs while they’re wearing costumes.”

“Ivan has four other brilliant ideas for TV shows,” he said, putting his arm around Suki’s waist.

“Let’s hear these brilliant ideas. My father works in L.A. He might be able to make some calls.”

Twenty-four

Two Months Later

Suki and Angus sat at a table in a pizza place on Boulder’s Pearl Street Mall. The steamy windows looked out on scurrying holiday shoppers, loaded with bags and hunched against a light but wet snow.

Michael pushed open the door and walked back to join them. He slapped a damp copy of
Tripping
on the table, sending stray specks of Parmesan flying from the table’s surface. “I can’t believe you did this! Half my article gone, and no mention that the ghost turned out to be a hoax.”

“Keep your voice down,” Angus said, wiping grease off his chin.

Michael grabbed an empty chair from a neighboring table and sat. “I didn’t even know the issue was out until I saw a copy on the newsstand.”

“I got mine in the mail weeks ago.” Suki wrapped scarlet lips around her drink’s straw.

Michael shook his head, his expression bitter. “I should be calling TV reporters right now, to tell them the truth.”

“You can’t,” Angus said hurriedly. “It’s against your contract, not to mention that I promised Charlotte Baskerville to keep Cheri’s part out of it.” He took a spare plate, loaded it with two pizza slices, and slid it in front of Michael. “Eat something.”

Michael crossed his arms. “I’m too angry to be hungry.”

Angus picked up the copy of
Tripping
and gently brushed it off. “It’s not as though the article is an out-and-out lie. If you’ll notice, I edited it to use the words
image
and
apparition
a lot. We saw those things, even if they didn’t turn out to be a ghost.”

“The title was ‘Ghostly Dog Walks’!” Michael grabbed a napkin and shook it out angrily. “Talk about poor word choice. It sounds like a dog owner’s tour of graveyards.”

“Yeah, I got that from it, too,” Suki said.

Angus lifted one shoulder. “Perhaps I meant it to be ambiguous.”

“Did you?” Michael bit out.

“No.” Angus looked askance and mumbled, “Should have read it out loud, I suppose.” Straightening, he said, “We couldn’t have printed the article any other way, or Charlotte would have sued us. Instead, she bought a lot of ad space. She’s also sponsoring Manitou Springs’ new pet parade, and the Chamber of Commerce is going to advertise it in
Tripping
’s Halloween issue next year.”

Michael swallowed a bite of pizza and spoke with somewhat less rage. “You think there’ll be a next year for
Tripping
?”

“I do. Pendergast is talking about getting us an office.”

“Dibs on a window,” Suki said.

“You can’t—” Michael broke off with a sigh. “You’d get one anyway, dibs or no dibs.”

She smiled at him. “You can visit.”

“The reason I called you both here is that I have some outstanding news.” Angus wiped his hands on a napkin before reaching into the inner pocket of his coat, which hung on the back of his chair. Taking out a folded page of magazine, he said, “Charlotte Baskerville sent me this. It’s from
Entertainment Weekly
.” He unfolded the page and read. “‘Next fall will see the debut of a new sitcom that makes extensive use of dogs. The brainchild of animal trainer Ivan Blotski, the show is set in the cutthroat world of New York fashion, but with a twist. Missy Bijon is a designer of canine fashions who actually
is
a canine.’”

“So Ivan is getting his TV show,” Michael said.

Angus went on. “‘Eighty percent of the performers will be dogs, who rely on humans for such lowly jobs as hailing taxis and fetching liver Frappuccinos with grated Milk-Bone on top. Costumes will be provided by Petey’s Closet, a real-life canine clothier owned by Charlotte Baskerville, with designs by Ellen Froehlich. In addition to making sure the doggy models can navigate a catwalk without barking, Ivan Blotski plays the part of Gregor Poochi, Missy’s rival designer.’”

“I wonder if they’ll make him gay,” Michael mused.

Suki chuckled. “Does the article mention us?”

Angus pointed to the page as he continued. “‘Petey’s Closet recently made a splash in the press when it was revealed that the ghost of the company’s namesake, a Chihuahua named Petey, appeared several times to Charlotte Baskerville. The story appears in this month’s issue of
Tripping,
a magazine that covers vacation destinations with paranormal aspects.’”

Michael stood and punched his fist in the air.
“Yes!”

Angus smiled and folded the article again. “I told you this story could lead to great things.
Tripping
is on its way.”