Murder of a Creped Suzette

“Well, a short-term solution might be that new Doggy Daycare place out on Robin Road across the street from the spa.” Wally swung open the front door for Skye. “The problem is that I heard it’s really expensive since it’s mostly aimed at the spa’s clientele. And I’m guessing you won’t let me pick up the tab for you.”

“You’re guessing right. I can pay my own bills.” Skye smiled to take some of the sting from her words, then made sure she had a tight grip on Toby’s leash. “When did the place open and why didn’t you tell me about it this morning?”

“A couple of weeks ago.” Wally moved back. “And when you didn’t bring it up during our conversation, I figured you had already arranged for someone to watch him.”

“Oh, yeah.” Skye thought back. She hadn’t mentioned her canine babysitting problem to Wally. “Sorry.” She crossed the threshold and braced herself for an explosion.

Bingo sat immobile in precisely the middle of the foyer’s hardwood floor. He looked at Skye, then flicked an ear and stared at the dog. Toby barked excitedly, but the black cat only sneered. Swishing his tail back and forth, Bingo deliberately turned his back on the canine.

Skye and Wally exchanged glances.

“What do you think?” Skye asked.

“Let’s see what happens if you let Toby approach Bingo,” Wally suggested, putting the grocery sack on the hallway bench.

Skye kept a firm hold on the leash. “Okay.” She stepped closer to the cat.

Wally followed, angling to get behind Bingo in case of trouble.

“They’re nearly the same size,” Skye commented as she watched.

Toby uttered a couple of sharp woofs, then sniffed at the cat.

Appearing to ignore the dog, Bingo lifted his rear leg and began licking it.

“Interesting.” Wally cocked his thumb at the two animals. “They seem okay.”

Toby’s nose twitched and his stubby tail started to wag.

“Should I let him off the leash?” Skye asked doubtfully. “I don’t want him to hurt Bingo.”

“I doubt Bingo is in any danger.” Wally appraised the pair. “I’d be more worried about the dog.”

“You’re probably right,” Skye agreed. “Grandma had Bingo’s front paws declawed, but he’s far from defenseless. And I’d like to see if they’ll tolerate each other.”

“Go ahead.” Wally crouched down next to the cat, ready to intervene. “If there’s trouble, I’ll grab Bingo; you go for Toby’s leash.”

“All right.” Skye let go of the lead, ready to snatch it back up at the first sign of hostilities.

Toby circled the cat while Bingo continued his bath. After two or three orbits, the dog lay down next to the feline and sighed. Bingo stopped his ablutions, gave Toby’s ears a couple of licks, then rose and stretched. Once he was sure everyone was watching, he sauntered down the hall, pausing halfway to see if the humans were following.

“Well, I’ll be darned.” Wally’s expression was bemused.

“The old wives’ tale must be true,” Skye said half to herself as she rushed to the feline’s food bowl, popped open a tin of Fancy Feast, and gave him the entire can for being such a good kitty. “Every now and again, cats decide to humor us because they feel guilty that their ancestors ate ours.” She giggled at her own silliness.

A moment later, when Toby trailed Wally into the kitchen, she rewarded the little dog with his mushy food, too.

With the animals fed and behaving themselves, Skye fetched the groceries from the foyer and said to Wally, “How about making a tossed salad while I cook the salmon?”

“Sure.” Wally took off his gun belt, unknotted his tie and slid it out from under his collar, then draped both over the back of a chair. “There. That’s better.”

Skye noticed he appeared years younger as he shed the accoutrements of his job. Smiling, she promised herself that later she’d get him out of the rest of his uniform.

Once the meal was ready, Skye asked Wally, “Can you open a bottle of wine for me, please?”

“You’re drinking?” Wally’s tone was quizzical. Skye rarely drank on a school night.

“Yep. It’s been that kind of day.” Skye gathered the plates, cutlery, napkins, and stemware. “Let’s eat in the sunroom.”

“Okay.” Wally followed her, carrying the salad and merlot. After they were settled on the wicker settee, Wally poured them each a glass of wine.

They were both hungry, and ate in silence for the first ten minutes. Finally, they spoke at once.

“I forgot—” Skye said.

And Wally said, “So, what I—”

“You first.” Skye waved her hand in his direction, put down her fork, and leaned back. “You’ve been trying to tell me something for the past twenty-four hours and I can’t stand the suspense any longer.”

Wally chugged the rest of his merlot, then cleared his throat. “So you know that last month after Father Burns told us the address I gave him for Darleen wasn’t any good, I traced her to another town in Alaska and sent a registered letter there?”

“Yes.” Of course she knew. How could she not know? The fact that they couldn’t find Wally’s ex-wife to get her statement was holding up the annulment process.