Murder of a Creped Suzette

Mrs. Griggs’s spirit must have been out on an otherworldly errand, because for the first time ever Wally and Skye were able to enjoy a pleasurable night in her antique four-poster bed without any household disaster occurring.

By six a.m. Skye had already dropped off Wally at his place so he could change clothes before going to talk to Owen, and had driven to Doggy Daycare. The pale purple building with black paw prints stenciled across the entrance was easy to spot. In the center of the lawn, a six-foot-tall pink fire hydrant topped off by an equally large sparkly tiara acted as a beacon to passersby. And lest someone fail to get the message, there was also a baby blue water bowl the size of a kiddie pool and a bone big enough to have come from a T. rex’s thigh.

Skye clicked Toby’s leash to his collar and led him up the front steps. When she pushed open the glass door, chimes played “How Much Is That Doggy in the Window?”

A thirtyish brunette wearing a lavender T-shirt with the Doggy Daycare logo embroidered across her chest greeted them from behind a rose marble counter. “Welcome to your darling’s home away from home. My name is Puppy Pointer.”

“Poppy?” Skye was sure she couldn’t have heard correctly.

“No, Puppy. P-U-P-P-Y.” The woman enunciated each letter carefully.

“What a cute nickname.” As a school psychologist, Skye had heard a lot of unusual, astonishing, and sometimes downright bizarre monikers, but, surely, Puppy was not on this woman’s birth certificate.

“It’s my legal name.” Puppy raised a bushy eyebrow, daring Skye to comment further. “Now, which of our wonderful services can I offer you today?”

“Uh.” Skye was stunned by the opulence and variety of merchandise on display, not to mention the set of white pointy ears that seemed to emerge directly from the top of Puppy’s head.

“I bet your precious pet is here for a spa day.” Puppy’s tone was perky.

“No. Sorry.” Skye gave an apologetic little cough, wondering what a spa day for a canine consisted of, let alone cost. “I just need to board him until four thirty.”

Puppy studied Toby. “At least let us give him a cut and style.”

“No, thanks.” Skye dug her wallet from her tote bag. “How much for the day?”

“I’m afraid we need to fill out some paperwork before we know what the charge will be.” Puppy held out a rhinestone-encrusted clipboard.

“Fine.” Skye glanced at the questionnaire. Beyond the first few lines, which requested her name, address, and phone number, there was little she could fill in. “Um, I’ve only had Toby for a couple of days, so I don’t know his mother’s name or any of the rest of this stuff.”

“Unfortunately, we can’t take him without that information.”

“Couldn’t you make an exception?” Skye pleaded. “Just for today?”

“Well . . .” Puppy eyed Skye thoughtfully. “Perhaps.”

“I’d really appreciate it.” Skye held her breath. What would she do if Toby didn’t qualify for Doggy Daycare? “How can we make it happen?”

“Because we don’t have proof of his immunizations, we’ll have to keep him separated from our other guests, so we’ll have to charge you an additional fifty dollars beyond our normal daily fee.”

“Fifty more?” Skye squeaked. “That seems like an awful lot to feed him and take him out a few times. How much is your regular price?”

“Forty-eight dollars.” Sharp little canines showed as Puppy smiled.

“So ninety-eight total?” Hell’s bells! At the rate she was hemorrhaging money, Skye wasn’t sure she could pay her bills this month.

“And there’s a nonoptional eighteen percent gratuity.” If Puppy had a tail, it would have been wagging. “The total bill is payable in advance.”

“That’s highway robbery!” Skye’s face turned red and she badly wanted to slap those cute little ears right off Puppy’s head.

“It’s not my fault you don’t know your own dog’s history.” Puppy shrugged. “Without the completed forms, Toby’s care will be a lot more work for me.” She curled her lip. “Take it or leave it.”

Skye wished she could walk out, but what would she do with Toby? Her only option would be to call in sick, and she couldn’t do that. Too many meetings would have to be canceled and rescheduled.

Vowing that she would find another solution by tomorrow, Skye asked weakly, “Do you take credit cards?”

“Of course.” Puppy straightened her faux ears. “But the extra fee is cash only.”

Skye’s shoulders slumped and she reluctantly placed her credit card, a twenty, two tens, a five, and four singles into Puppy’s outstretched paw.

“You owe me another dollar.”

Skye sighed and dug through the change at the bottom of her purse, coming up with two quarters, four dimes, a nickel, and five pennies.

Puppy handed her a receipt and said, “I hope you don’t mind me saying so, but you look really frazzled. You should do what I do when I’m feeling tense.”

“What?” Skye asked before she could stop herself.

“I handle stressful situations like our canine friends do.” Puppy’s expression was serious. “If you can’t eat it or hump it, pee on it and walk away.”