Sniffing Out Murder (Mina's Adventures Book 7)

  Sniffing Out Murder

  Maria Grazia Swan

  Copyright © 2017 Maria Grazia Swan

  an Echo Canyon Press publication

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  All rights reserved, which includes the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever except as provided by the US Copyright Law.

  Sniffing Out Murder is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of the author and publisher.

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  Editing by www.editingcrew.com

  Cover design by Debbie Coleman

  www.ImagineThat-Design.biz

  Formatting by Debora Lewis

  arenapublishing.org

  I would like to dedicate this book to all the volunteers, here and everywhere. These selfless people are our hope to stop the daily killing of countless, innocent pets.

  Acknowledgments

  A big thank you to Home Fur Good and Tina M. for all the help regarding breeds, adoptions and other rescue questions.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Chapter Twenty-four

  Chapter Twenty-five

  Chapter Twenty-six

  About Aspen

  Preview of Cooks, Crooks and a Corpse

  More Books by Maria Grazia Swan

  About the Author

  “Absence is to love what wind is to fire; it extinguishes the small, it flames the great.”

  ~Bussy-Rabutin, French soldier and writer (1618-1693)

  ONE

  KALINDA’S NEWLY REMODELED home offered its shiny terracotta roof tiles to the morning sun. “That song 'It Never Rains in Southern California' turned out to be a big, fat lie.” Mina said to the three cats atop the cushy bed lazily watching her every move. “We had enough rain last night to kayak down the road.”

  She stepped away from the bedroom second-story window, the only spot in the house that allowed a peek at Kalinda’s old Santa Barbara style home. “Okay guys, let’s go if you want to eat. You know the rules—we eat in the kitchen, even guests.” She shook her finger at Zeus, the guest.

  Aria and Houdini scrambled off the bed, catching up to her on the way down the stairs, but poor declawed Zeus moved slowly. Mina stopped and waited then picked up the shy calico and carried him down to the kitchen. She still couldn’t get used to the way Houdini and Zeus looked alike. Two male calicos with similar looks and opposite personalities. In Millie’s absence, Zeus stayed at the house. All three cats shared the same pet drinking fountain, but with their food, it wasn’t so simple. Millie left enough dry and canned food for Zeus to fill a pantry shelf.

  The first day had been chaotic, with Aria, ever the princess, nibbling on the guest’s moist morsel, probably out of curiosity. She'd lost interest pretty fast. Houdini was different, at first he'd acted more like an alpha dog than the house cat. Thanks to Zeus's submissiveness, he quickly settled on just chummy. Good kitty.

  The aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled the sunny kitchen, yet it wasn’t enough to offset the smell of tuna coming from Zeus’s gourmet canned food. Eww.

  Note to self—put aside all that stinky cat food. Millie can give it to her cat when she’s back.

  Mina headed for the front door to get her newspaper. It should be by the mat slightly to the left but not too close to the bushes. Burgeoning spring leaves on the tall tree reflected in the puddles lingering on the driveway. Reminders of the night rain and of sunny days ahead. But no newspaper.

  She tipped the carrier enough to make sure the paper hadn’t landed on her precious geraniums. One of the few potted flowers she'd managed not to kill.

  These days newspapers were delivered by car. A rolled down driver window and a strong arm, and voila. With some luck the flying object would land on the targeted spot—or not.

  Must have been the substitute, an older woman who couldn’t throw with enough strength to get it over the low wall. A quick glance told Mina the road was clear. She clicked on the gate and rushed outside to collect her precious newspaper—messenger of news, good, bad, and anything in between. It must have hit the wall and bounced back into the street.

  There she was, once again, running around in her pajamas and bedroom slippers. After living in the house for four years, all the neighbors and their friends had seen her in her night attire at least once.

  Beep-beep. Bent over, gripping the paper—the honking felt close and personal and above all, loud. She jumped up, and a side glance told the story. The shining front bumper of Detective Dan De Fiore’s black Ford purred inches from her silk pajamas bottom. She shook her head and approached the driver’s side, leaning toward the open window.

  “Well, well, look who’s paying a visit. What’s up De Fiore? Chasing bad guys in this little corner of paradise?”

  Strange, the top button of his shirt was unfastened with no tie. The detective had a thing about ties, imported silk ties.

  "What happened to your tie?” she asked.

  “You don’t miss much, do you?” Still sitting in his car. “I didn’t get a chance to go home and change, spent most of the night at the office, but I promised Kalinda I’d stop by her place.”

  “Come on in, De Fiore. I just made coffee.”

  “You made coffee?” His Asian eyes smiled.

  “Hey, I’m Italian. You can always count on coffee and wine, okay?”

  “Can I leave my car here?” He paused. “Mina, don’t turn around. We have a visitor.”

  “A what?”

  “It’s Houdini, your cat. He’s walking along the top of the wall. Will he run if we call him?”

  “Damn, again? How does he do that? I’m sure I closed the door.”

  “He’s coming this way. Very close. What do you want me to do?”

  “I have to catch him. I’m cat sitting Zeus for Millie.” She turned around just as Houdini leaped through the air and landed on the car, inches from the open driver’s window. Nuzzling here and there to De Fiore’s amused grin.

  “Good boy, Houdini, greeting our guest.” She grabbed him with both arms, dropping the newspaper. “De Fiore, can you bring in the paper? I’m not letting the escape artist go.” She hurried toward the house.

  They had coffee in the living room to dodge the lingering smell of tuna.

  “How is Kalinda?” Mina asked.

  “Well, she’s learning to stand. Imagine that—she can stand.” Emotion hampered his voice. “I can’t tell you much because everything is at the experimental stage. She’s a volunteer guinea pig if you want. She insists it isn’t prosthesis being used, but a magic prosthetic.” A bashful smile. De Fiore bashful? Totally unexpected. “With advances in the biomedical sciences, the devices have been integrated with body tissues, including the nervous system. Very sophisticated and responding closely to approximatin
g normal movements. She chided that she’s growing new legs. Do I sound like I know what I’m talking about?” He shook his head.

  “Wow. Wouldn’t it be great if she could actually stand? She’d be so tall and regal. I will never forget that evening, before the—accident. When she got out of her DeLorean, she looked like a movie star… that was when I found out she actually was known as the Matchmaker to the Stars.”

  “Funny you should mention her height.” He set his coffee cup on the low table and petted Aria who was rolled up next to him. “She keeps saying how sorry she is to have made all those changes to her home. If she can stand, she may not need them. Perhaps that’s the reason she stopped the remodeling when she left for Texas Medical facilities.”

  “Yes. That created a chain reaction,” Mina said.

  “A chain reaction? What are you talking about?”

  “We, I mean Millie and I thought it would be the perfect time to get the Ritzy Cats B&B spruced up. You know, paint, a bit of remodeling. Millie planned her vacation around the chosen time, and I didn’t book any cats for the two weeks we had scheduled, and then, just like that, the workers disappeared. Kalinda left, and the house is all locked up. Any idea how I can get in touch with the crew she had there working? And what about the service dog? Is she moving forward, or is it also on hold? I suppose you’re aware you’re the only soul she communicates with. Right De Fiore?”

  Did he blush?

  “Huh, no. Did not know that. She wants the dog. She’s hoping he will be fully trained by the time she’s back. Don't you have her phone number? Certainly she must stay in touch with Diego. It was your boyfriend, who helped her land that coveted spot for the experimental rehabilitation.”

  “You still don’t get it, do you? My so-called boyfriend keeps anything and everything related to his profession as hidden from me as possible. I’m learning to accept that. Maledizione, how did we get on that subject? Now I’ll be thinking about him all day. Thanks a lot, De Fiore.”

  “Stop complaining. I bet he’s only a phone call away.” Zeus appeared at the top of the stairs, quietly sat, and looked at them. “This is the first time I've seen both calicos together,” De Fiore said. “Hard to believe it was what? Two years ago? You went from one cat to three, reconnected with Diego, and ended up with a fat check for your foundation from that Greek spitfire. What was her name again? Can’t remember.” He looked at Zeus up on top of the stairs. “Hope you feed daily caviar to that Houdini of yours, he was the one to help you catch the catnapper. Hey, I’ve got to get moving. I have a meeting down in Oceanside.” A sigh. “It’s going to be a long day. I’ll ask Kalinda about the company doing the remodeling. Thanks for the coffee. You stay out of trouble. You hear me?”

  He petted Aria one last time and got up to leave as Mina’s phone chimed. “Work,” she said to the Detective before closing the front door behind him and acknowledging that once again she couldn’t figure out if De Fiore and Kalinda were lovers, or friends, or maybe both.

  She sighed. Relationships were so complicated. Her eyes on Houdini busily grooming himself, or pretending to. Little weasel. Her thoughts on Diego, the love of her life, and even more unpredictable than her cat.

  TWO

  “WHEN DID THEY call?” Mina kept her eyes on the road. Maybe she should pull over, park somewhere, and take notes. “Give me a minute to find a place to stop, write this down. Call you back.” She parked her silver Ford LTD in front of a Mobil gas station and called Linda at the Furry Friends Foundation, the animal rescue shelter Mina had started a few years back. “And we are sure it’s one of our own? I’m confused. Are they saying one of our dogs ran off and ended up there? Are we missing a dog?” It had happened before.

  “No, Mina," Linda explained. "It’s a dog that someone adopted from FFF. It was found roaming the streets of San Clemente and turned over to Coastal Animal Service. That’s where they discovered the microchip, but the phone number associated to it is disconnected. They called us as a courtesy. What do you want to do?” Linda was highly efficient—one big reason Mina gladly had her manage the shelter.

  “Hmm, let me think. We don’t know which dog. Do we?”

  “No, only that’s a male. They were very busy, and I didn’t want to take up too much of their time. They suggested we get it right away so they don’t need to do intake and then release papers. Can’t blame them really.”

  “Good point. Oh, what the heck, small detour. I’ll go pick him up. If he’s rambunctious I’ll ask to borrow a small cage and put down my back seat. Maybe I’ll get lucky, and it’s a Chihuahua. See you. Is everything okay?”

  “Peachy smooth and wet.” Linda laughed and hung up.

  * * *

  ONE LOOK AND it all came back. Aspen was the name they had picked for him at FFF. No way of knowing what name he went by now. Names changed but not the dark eyes with their sad, pleading expression many hounds were known for. Would he remember her? Mina offered her hands for the dog to sniff. The volunteer holding the leash seemed impatient. “One of yours?”

  Mina nodded. “Was… and yes. I’ll take him. Is he okay? Any problem?”

  “He was limping when we picked him up. Back leg.” She pointed to Aspen’s bandaged right rear leg. “Nothing serious, small cut, scrapes. He seems quiet, sad. Collar, nothing else.”

  Mina showed the collar and the leash she brought with her. “I keep a supply in the car at all times, you never know when it will come in handy.” She smiled at the volunteer who smiled back.

  Less than thirty minutes later, Mina had Aspen sitting quietly in the back seat. She had a copy of the papers turned in by the worker who'd gone to pick him up. They'd found him by the train tracks in proximity of the San Clemente Pier. He'd been wet, may have been wandering around all night. This wasn’t the first time the two shelters had collaborated, so transfer was somewhat easier.

  She didn’t get to Interstate Five Northbound until around noon, having taken the quickest route to the office in case the rescued dog needed to go. Mina glanced at him from her rear view mirror. Quite a nice looking dog, medium size, and by the luster of his reddish coat he couldn’t have been on the streets too long. He should be what? Three years old?

  She seemed to remember that Tom, yes, Tom the security guard, had found Aspen, a puppy back then, hiding by the bathrooms in a rest area off Interstate Five. Tom had happened to be driving back from San Diego after visiting his wife who had been undergoing cancer treatments at Scripps. The puppy had been in bad shape, had what looked like buck shots on his back. Not open wounds, more like pellets' grazing. That had Tom wondering if it could be accidental, with the proximity to Camp Pendleton and all.

  And that was how Aspen ended up at FFF.

  Every volunteer had fallen in love with this coonhound mix, the eyes full of sorrow, the endless sweet attitude. A puppy that never barked or complained. Always ready for a walk, easy on the leash, the only time he acted spooked was when a dark-skinned, burly man would approach. They had all decided that was a reminder of the tormentor? In less than three months Aspen was healthy, neutered, and vaccinated. Unfortunately Mina couldn’t remember when he was adopted or who had adopted him. No biggie, the shelter’s records were but a click of the mouse away and went back years. She looked at the dog again and met his eyes. How can anyone abandon such a soulful creature? With a little bit of luck, she hoped to find out.

  Both Linda and Leigh remembered Aspen and were oohing and aahing at how much he had grown and how handsome a dog he'd turned out to be. They offered him a bowl of water, and he drank with great enthusiasm and much splattering on the concrete floor decorated with painted black paws.

  Did he remember? The barking coming from the back rooms where the largest dogs waited for their forever families to find them didn’t seem to faze Aspen. Neither did the churning of the loud and overworked washing machine behind the closet door. “Can’t wait to see Tom’s face when he finds out that Aspen is back,” Linda said. “He always regretted not adopting
him. Of course with his wife dying, it would have been a difficult decision. Well, here is his second chance.”

  “What are you saying? We need to locate the rightful owners. Aspen, or whatever his name is, doesn’t look like a pet who's been abused or abandoned. For all we know, they could be going nuts trying to find him. Let’s ask one of the kids to do an Internet search. Who should we ask?” Mina looked at Linda for answers.

  “Sky is coming in at four. She’ll be in the cats' room. I’ll ask her. We should post a few pics. Let me take him for a quick run, and then we can put him in the large crate. What do you say?”

  Mina nodded. “We have to isolate him until we’re sure he’s clear. I don’t want to bug Roger. He was just here. First things first, do we know who adopted him from us?”

  “Let’s switch places. Mina, you check the old records, and I’ll take him around the block. I’ll be back before we open officially to the public. I doubt we’ll get super busy on a Monday, but you never know.”

  “Good idea. Oh, keep an eye on his leg. See the bandage? It may be nothing, but we won’t know for sure until we get him checked out. Okay, let’s see who Aspen’s family was.”

  There were two ways of searching, alphabetically or by date. She tried under A because she simply had no clue as to when Aspen had been adopted. And she felt guilty about it. She who always bragged about knowing all the four-legged friends that ever crossed the shelter’s doors. When Aspen’s file popped up it all became clear—April 30. National Adopt a Shelter Pet Day. Of course. The busiest day of the year, every year. Extra help would pitch in. One year they had a group of Boy Scouts helping parade dogs in and out from the back yard to the front parking lot. And two years ago there'd been a television crew showing dogs all prettily groomed, with bows and bandannas… that was when Aspen had been adopted. He'd gone home with a single mom of two boys. No other pets in the home. Isabel Cordero could afford the adoption because all fees were cut in half for that special event. Leigh had done the paperwork. Mina had kept busy giving tours of the shelter, and Linda had done the interview. As usual, she was the best at pitching the foundation's importance for the community. With her smooth, saucy presentation she was soo good. They did very well that year, indeed.