Chapter 30
Benny orders a red wine. At Dickie’s. Which, again—dive bar. But I suppose I’m not really in a position to give him shit about it. And maybe because he’s a regular with a Polaroid on
the wall, the bartender actually gives him the drink he orders, even if it is straight from the fridge. Meanwhile, I get a
Coors Light by ordering a Guinness.
I feel sick about Hannah. I promise myself I’ll make it up to her as soon as possible; I’ll tell her everything. But first,
I have to talk to Benny.
I can’t stop staring at him, just to confirm he’s actually safe. The dogs are equally thrilled to see their guy. Louis clambers
up on the seat and rests his chin on Benny’s shoulder with a contented sigh. Benny puts an arm around him like they’re on
a date, looks the dog over, and then frowns at me. He opens his mouth to say something, but I get there first.
“Let’s just clear the air here,” I say, palms up in a sign of defeat. “I’m sorry I got you arrested. But, on the bright side,
I also figured out you were innocent and indirectly helped get you released.”
“And you really think those two things balance each other out, huh?”
“You looked suspicious in that doorbell footage.” My voice feels small, and I instinctively shrink back as Benny leans forward.
“Suspicious?” His voice is hard. “I was smelling gas. When I opened the mail slot, I knew something was wrong, and I had to get the dogs away and call 911. That’s what you were
seeing in the doorbell video. That’s what you sent the cops.”
“You know, technically Marlowe sent it to the cops.”
“What?”
Oops, no, I’m making this worse.
“I thought I was solving Claudia’s murder.”
“Claudia was my friend,” Benny says.
“Exactly! If I’d been at the wrong place at the wrong time with an obscene amount of money you might have had me arrested
too!”
He looks lost. Which, honestly, is better than angry. “What money?”
I quickly catch him up on the investigation. The money that was in the envelope he delivered. How I thought he was the murderer,
then Tond, then Merle. How I have no idea who the murderer is anymore.
“But it definitely wasn’t an accidental gas leak,” I say as gently as I can. “She figured something out, and it got her killed,
whatever it was.” Something nags at the back of my mind, but I can’t quite see it. Something I’m missing.
There’s a long pause. I take a pull off my Coors Light while Benny processes all of this, and finally, he lets out a low whistle.
“Holy shit.”
“Yeah. It’s a mess.”
“If the murder got pinned on me, I’d have been so screwed.” He gets a haunted, faraway look in his eyes. “Did you know, the
toilet is just in the middle of the holding cell. And if you have to poop, everyone can see?”
“Did you? Have to poop?”
He turns a deep shade of red.
No more questions, Your Honor.
Benny shoots the rest of his wine and motions for me to get him another one. I suppose I owe him. When I return with his icy
cold Merlot and slide back into the booth, he asks, “So who’s left on your list of suspects?”
I wince. “My list is currently a little unimpressive.” AKA nonexistent.
“Hit me.”
“Well, if we’re assuming Claudia’s garbled text is right and the alderman’s office is somehow involved, then I guess everybody
who works there could be a suspect?”
He leans in, eyebrows raised.
“Except Tasha,” I say quickly. “Obviously. And Leslie. I had high hopes for Merle, but it’s not him either. So.”
He gives me a look.
“I’m working on it, sheesh,” I say, but I get his point. I’m chasing my tail right now. “How about . . . tell me everything you know about
the alderman’s office. Who else is generally around? I’ve only been there a couple times, but you walk Charlie, you must know
things.”
“Nothing useful. The assistants are the heart and soul of that place. Merle’s been in office so long, he kinda phones it in,
and Leslie, well . . . chief of staff in name only. She’s only got eyes for Charlie.” He shakes his head.
“We love her,” I say firmly. I will not have two people shitting on my new friend Leslie, fellow Dog Mom Extraordinaire. Not
today. “Anything else?”
“Okay. Well, Sunday morning, when I got there early to walk Charlie, Merle wasn’t around. That lady gave me the envelope to
drop off at Claudia’s.”
I look up from the dregs of my Coors Light. “What lady?”
“The one in the suit.”
The lady? In the suit?
Val. Has to be.
“Beige suit?” I say.
He shrugs. “I don’t remember, it’s been kind of an intense couple of days.”
I ignore the subtle burn. Val is not exactly a cuddly person, but how uncuddly is she? Murder uncuddly? Maybe. I try to recall every detail of my short encounter with her. Kind of snotty. Doesn’t like pickles.
And, hang on—she was walking out the door with a thick brown envelope. Exactly the kind of brown envelope that some quote-unquote lady in a suit gave to Benny.
“What did she say when she gave it to you?” I ask.
He shrugs. “I think she said, ‘here, take this.’ ”
“That’s it? That’s all you’ve got?”
“Once again: I’ve been very preoccupied getting myself out of jail,” he says, sounding cranky.
“Could she maybe have said, ‘take this or else’?” I ask. “Something sketchy like that?”
He chugs his second wine and pushes the empty glass over at me. “Why are you doing this?”
“Getting you bottomless refills?” I ask. “I’m hoping you’ll forget I did a Shawshank Redemption to you.”
“No, why are you investigating Claudia’s murder?”
“Oh.” That’s a very fair question. I decide to leave out the part about Tond giving me the money—I don’t think Benny would approve.
And I also don’t tell him that I’m haunted by the fact that I could have saved Claudia if I’d just convinced her to wait for Cran’s autopsy before she went off the rails with a murder investigation.
I should also leave out the bit about Mierzwiak and my possible status as dog thief.
Yes, fine, I’m leaving out a lot. We’re still getting
to know each other!
“Well,” I say, “I’m trying to do my civic duty. I’ve called the cops at every possible point—”
“I heard.” Benny raises an eyebrow.
“—and it has never ever helped. In fact, it only made it worse.” After a quick but vicious internal debate, I go ahead and
tell him the reason I’ve only half admitted to myself this whole time. “I guess I feel like I owe it to Claudia. Someone has to find out what happened to her.”
I don’t want to see the look on his face, so I grab his empty glass and head back to the bar for the third time. And I think
I need another beer too.
While I wait for the drinks, I force down the wave of guilt that was about to overtake me and review the facts: I now have
exactly one lukewarm lead. Room-temperature lead, if I’m honest with myself. I suppose Val is semi-connected with the cursed construction site by virtue of working at Merle’s office, but other than being a big B, she’s
got no real motive that I can see yet.
More kickbacks? Is it kickbacks all the way down?
A polite little bark makes me look back over to our booth, where I see Benny and Jacques engaged in a game of pattycake. Even
when he’s making dogs do tricks, Benny manages to look stupidly hot. Jean licks one of Benny’s biceps and I realize I would
also like to do that.
Stop.
I do not need any more complications in my life. Probably.
The bartender clears her throat and as I spin around, she gives me a judgmental look and pushes the drinks over to me, bumping
against a bowl of matchbooks. I pick the drinks up and head back to the table, realizing there’s something I’ve never cleared
up.
“Can you think of a reason Cran might have come to Dickie’s?” I say, sliding into the booth. “Doesn’t seem like his kind of place.”
“Yeah, he came here to fire me as the poodles’ handler,” Benny says bitterly. “Wouldn’t tell me why, just that it was ‘time
to move into the twenty-first century.’ I tried to tell him it has been the twenty-first century for a really long time already,
but he wouldn’t listen. Anyway, he wanted to meet in public, but somewhere no one knew him, in case I went berserk and/or
embarrassed him. His words.”
Damn. Well, that settles that, I guess. Why can’t any of my loose ends lead somewhere good?
Benny gives Lou a scratch behind the ears and sighs. “Cran would roll over in his grave if he saw what you’ve done to these
guys.”
“By that do you mean caring for them and giving them a good home when no one else would?”
“They’re filthy and their hair is all knotted, and they’re getting fat. Are you still feeding them pepperoni?”
“They’re fat and happy,” I say defensively. “I’ve been told that’s a good thing.”
“They’re elite competitors, Mo, not lapdogs. Jacques kills it in agility, Jean is, well, okay, Jean is more of a Miss Congeniality type,
but Louis here had a real shot at winning another Best in Show at the Great American Dog Show this year, which could get him ranked nationally. They are a B Fucking D!”
“Well, I am not a D Fucking T,” I say defensively. He stares at me, confused. “Dog Fucking Trainer. Actually, that sounds awful. Forget I said that. Look,
you and Claudia made me take them, and I’m doing the best I can.”
“Are you even trying to keep up with their grooming?” he asks.
“I can barely keep up with my grooming, Benny. I’m not spending my pepperoni money just to have a bunch of fashion dogs.”
“It’s not for fashion,” he protests. “It’s a health thing. They have to get professionally groomed.”
“Right. And how much does a dog spa cost, out of curiosity?” I ask.
Benny grimaces. “Um, about a hundred bucks. Maybe one twenty-five.”
“Each??”
“Plus tip.”
I look at the green screen crumpled up on the seat next to me. I have got to get on those videos. Between Sheila and apology drinks and friggin’ dog haircuts, I’ll be broke by the end of the month
if I don’t get the eleven-point-five grand. God I need that money.
Literally a month ago, I had none of these kinds of problems. A surge of loss hits me as I realize how much I miss my old
life.
Ah shit, now my eyes are burning, but there’s no way in hell I’m going to cry in front of Benny. I rub my face like I’m just