It could be the money. If only he could figure out where it came from and what it was for. Or the money could have nothing to do with it. It could be a big, fat, sexy red herring. The initial search had missed it. Could someone have planted it later to distract him? Who would have 25K to throw away like that? And how would they know he'd find it?
The four big motives for murder were money, sex, revenge, and power. Occasionally someone killed to protect their ass, but it hadn't happened on his watch. Sex or money seemed the likely motive for offing Morrisey. Maybe a CYA if the money was for blackmail. He wouldn't count revenge out, though it was last on his list. Morrisey seemed the kind of guy who avoided trouble. He might indulge in a little discrete blackmail if the victim were unlikely to retaliate. He was not a guy who tugged on Superman's cape.
Peter's musings were interrupted by a golden body slam. Honey careened off his legs as Viola chased her around him, wrapping his legs with her leash. Peter, still reeling from the hit, toppled. He looked up to see Lia's jade eyes laughing down at him, her hand extended to help him up. He took her hand, not for the assist, but for the opportunity to touch her. Her hand was long and graceful, strong and soft. He felt a jolt when they connected. Her eyes briefly flashed wariness, and he wondered if she had felt the connection as well.
"And that, Detective, is why we remove leashes inside the corral before we enter the park."
"Oh, is that the reason?"
"One of them."
"Will the others prevent me from landing on my ass?"
"They might."
"Then enlighten me. Please." He gave her a pathetic look.
"Okay." She thought for a moment. "You see the corral?"
"Yeah, I got the whole leash-corral connection."
"This is something just as important."
"Do tell."
"A corral has a gate. A gate is a portal."
"Okay," Peter replied, unsure where she was going.
"Dogs guard their space. When they are inside the park, the park becomes their space and the gate is like the front door."
"And?"
"What does a dog do when a stranger comes to the door?"
"They, umm, bark?"
"Yes, and sometimes they get aggressive."
"So dogs in the park guard the gate?"
"Sometimes they do, if they are near it. So it's best to take your dog away from the gate after you enter the park, and don't let them guard. You don't have to worry about Viola with that. But . . ."
"But?"
"If you're inside the corral, and dogs inside the park start guarding, there's a chance a fight might break out."
Peter's expression became intent. "So what can you do?"
"If a strange dog is guarding the gate and they are acting aggressively, snarling and growling, call their owner over and ask them to remove their dog from the gate. You have an advantage, you can always flip your badge out if you need to."
"That wouldn't constitute an abuse of power?"
"I'd say letting your dog be a bully is an abuse of power. You're just calling them on it."
"Okay, I can buy that. What else?"
"Don't ever bring food or treats into the park. Some dogs are food aggressive, so it can start a fight."
"Makes sense."
"Don't ever put loose treats in your pocket. I think Viola has outgrown chewing the pockets out of pants, but even if she has, your pants will always smell like treats and you're likely to get pestered. So any time you carry treats, keep them in a baggie. Of course, if you're recruiting drug dogs, that would be a way to sniff out the talent."
"Pun intended?"
"Of course. One big thing. Dogs are pack animals and they have to either lead or follow, so if you don't lead, they will decide it's their job, and they'll start behaving badly."
"How do you do that, besides with a leash?"
Lia pondered for a moment, "It's more about being consistent. Only have a few rules, but make them rules you can and will enforce every time. You can't neglect it even once. You let it go and they know it's not really a rule and they don't have to do it."
"Sounds harsh."
"Nah. It just simplifies things. I'm not saying boss her around all the time. Set basic routines around walks and meal times, and when they know what to expect, they'll start doing it automatically."
"And if I don't?"
"Say somebody is harping on you to lend them money. If you've never loaned them money, they'll give up pretty quickly. If you used to lend them money and now you're saying no, it's harder to get them to go away, right?"
"True."
"Now suppose you spend fifteen minutes saying 'no' and then they wear you down and you say, 'Well, okay, but this is the last time.'"
"Okay."
"So what happens next time?"
Peter scrunched his eyebrows and thought. "He's not going to believe me when I say no."
"Exactly!" Lia flashed a broad smile at his astute response. "Viola has a couple routines she knows, so it should be easy to get her back into a groove. But once you start with her you can't blow it off."
"So what are they?"
"When it's time to go for a walk, have her sit before you clip on her leash. And when you are done, make her sit to unclip." Lia lifted her hand, palm up, and Viola plopped on her butt. "Okay." Viola popped up. "That's the hand signal. Or you can just say, 'Sit!' in a firm voice." Viola sat back down.
"I haven't been doing that. So what do I do now if she ignores me? "
"You say 'sit' the first time and if she doesn't do it immediately, say it once more, but this time gently push her butt down. Don't keep repeating the command, then it just becomes noise. Like teachers in school who yell all the time and nobody listens to them. So what ever it is, give her one opportunity to obey, then if you need to, repeat the command and gently put her into position. And if she pops out of position, keep doing that until she stays."
"Doesn't sound too hard. So what else is she used to doing?"
"Viola's used to being told to lay down before she gets her meals, and she's not allowed to eat until she's released. You release her by saying 'okay.'" Viola got back up, this time she sauntered off, hoping to avoid more commands. "Always have her hold a command until you release her."
"That sounds a little mean."
"Dogs are different from humans. They like being led unless they're being led by someone ineffectual. Viola may give you some resistance, she may test you by trying to get up before you release her. "If you let her get away with it, pretty soon she'll be jumping all over you when it's meal time. She might start snatching food from your plate when you're eating."
"Sounds like a slippery slope."
"It is. Dogs know who's a push-over and who isn't. And their behavior will change accordingly."
"I have nephews like that."
"Exactly."
"If I make my nephews lie on the floor before I give them pizza, do you think they'll stop acting like brats?"
Lia laughed. "It's worth a try, Detective."
"So are you going to teach me Viola's pee song?"
"I don't know. That's pretty personal stuff. I don't think I know you well enough. I think you should make up your own pee song."
"Damn. Must I?" He looked at her sideways. "I think you're making the whole pee song thing up just to con me into making an ass out of myself."
She gave him a look of mock-affront and batted her eyes at him. "Would I do that? She splayed a hand on her chest for emphasis. "Moi? To an officer of the law? Surely not!"
"Well, when you put it that way."
"Besides, I don't need to humiliate you. You'll do it to yourself the first time you talk baby-talk to Viola in public."
"Oops."
"See, humiliation is already a done deal. Surrender your self-respect, Detective, it's very freeing."
Peter decided they'd talked enough about his personal humiliation. "So how long have you been coming here?"
"Ever since I go
t Honey, about six years ago."
"And you come up here every morning?"
"Pretty much. Except when it's pouring rain or the roads are iced up."
"And the same people are here everyday?"
"Some more than others."
"And you're friends with all of them?"
"Good friends with a few, friendly with most of the rest. You'll find all different kinds of people here, and you wind up associating with people you wouldn't know otherwise. Sometimes the only thing we have in common is dogs. We all try to get along, but if the sordid underbelly of the park were exposed, I suspect you'd find a seething cauldron of political conflict, romantic discord and social rivalry."
"And which of these are you?"
"Until last Sunday, I guess I fell in the category of romantic discord. I guess I'm still there. I feel so guilty."
"Why?"
Lia's earnest green eyes suddenly glimmered with a hint of tears. She glanced to the right, and then down. "I hate what Luthor did and I hate that he did it because I broke up with him and I especially hate that I'm relieved that at least it really is over. His funeral is next week and whatever I do, I'm the bad guy. I stay away and it's because I don't care. If I go, then how dare I show my face after what I drove him to? I thought about sending flowers, but I suspect they'd wind up in the trash."
"Have you talked to his family?"
"I called his sister on the phone and she screamed at me for five minutes straight before I figured out there was no point in staying on the line."
"I see what you mean." Peter took a deep breath. Every instinct he had said Lia was being truthful, and her glance to the right before she shared her feelings confirmed it. She was remembering, not fabricating, according to the workshop he had taken on interviewing techniques and reading kinetic cues. That, and she knew Luthor was left handed. Still, trusting her would be a risk. Would it be worth it?
"Lia, let's go sit down somewhere. I have something to tell you." Peter hoped he wasn't making a big mistake.
"Over there?" Lia pointed to an empty picnic table under a Maple tree. They climbed up on top and rested their feet on the benches.
"Why do so many people sit on top of the tables here?"
"Dunno. Maybe because if we sit on the benches we might get slammed by a racing dog, or one of the dogs will jump up on the table and get in our faces? Maybe just maintaining pack leadership? Height is dominance to dogs, so you'll see little dogs jumping up on the table so they can lord it over the Great Danes and Rotties.
"Huh." Peter noticed talking about dogs relieved some of the stress he'd seen in her. He hoped what he was going to say would eliminate some of her guilt. He also hoped she wouldn't shoot the messenger.
"So what are you being all mysterious about?"
"What I'm going to tell you has not been made public, but I think you need to know. Can I count on your discretion?"
"Hard to say, since I don't know what it is. I'll stay mum if there's no compelling reason not to."
"Fair enough. Look, Lia," He paused and Lia turned to him, searching his face. He tried to figure out how to present this. "Luthor shot himself with his right hand."
"And?"
"He's left handed."
"What's the big deal about that?"
"Have you ever held a gun?"
"No. Never."
"They can be pretty heavy. It would be awkward handling it with your non-dominant hand, even for someone who knows how to shoot."
"What are you saying?"
"We don't think he shot himself. We think it was staged to look that way."
She stared at him. Her shock was immediate and real.
"There's more."
"More?" The word escaped her mouth in a high-pitched whisper. She swallowed.
"Did you know Luthor had other girlfriends?" This time she looked away. He wondered if killing the messenger was occurring to her now. He kept on, doggedly. "One young woman he saw the previous time you broke up. He attempted to keep it going after you got back together, but she wouldn't have it."
Lia gave a sad and cynical snort. "At least somebody had some class."
"The other woman he started seeing casually recently. She seemed to be more a girlfriend in waiting. It hadn't quite gone there yet."
Lia kept looking down, shaking her head. Finally, she said, "This is too much. Luthor was murdered?"
"We think so, yes."
"Why?"
"We don't know. Lia, did you ever find your cell phone?"
"No. What does that have to do with anything?"
"Because Luthor received a text from your phone shortly before he was shot. We have to find it."
~ ~ ~
Anna and Jim watched from the other side of the park as Honey jumped up on the table and licked Lia's cheek. Lia turned her head into Honey's neck and wrapped her arms about her, taking comfort in the silky warmth.
"What do you suppose he's saying to her that has her so upset?"
Nadine walked up. "Lia looks really unhappy. Should we interrupt?"
"I think she needs space right now," Jim replied, "She knows we're here."
Catherine walked up and took Jim's arm. "Hello, Anna, I just love your sweatshirt. You look so . . . relaxed." Anna ground her teeth. Catherine turned her attention to the pair under the tree. "Honestly," she said, nodding at Peter and Lia, "Why is he distressing her like that? She's in the middle of a big project. She doesn't need this."
Anna rolled her eyes. "Catherine, you're all heart."
"You'd feel the same way if it was your garden that might be late and your party that might be ruined," Catherine pouted.
"No, I wouldn't. And he didn't need to do much of anything. Lia's got a brave face, but our girl's been hurting. It's only been a week since Luthor died."
"Now, ladies, we all care about Lia," Jim said
"Of course," responded Catherine. Anna just narrowed her eyes until Catherine blinked and looked away.
~ ~ ~
Peter wondered if he'd dropped too many bombs at once. It took all his patience to sit quietly while Lia communed with Honey. Viola jumped up on the bench and rested her head on Lia's knee. Chewy bounced up on the table and shoved his head under Lia's hand. She scratched his ears absently while she brooded.
Eventually she sat up and turned around. "You dumped all this on me and I can't share it with anyone."
"Not for a little while, unless you have a priest or a therapist."
"I suppose I could talk to the dogs about it," she smiled weakly.
"Yes," he smiled wryly back. "You can talk to Honey and Chewy. I'm so sorry. I didn't want to tell you like this."
"Why did you? Why did you tell me?"
"I didn't want you to feel guilty about Luthor anymore."
"Oh. Is the way I'm feeling now supposed to be better?"
"Maybe not. But at least it's based on reality. It was unfair for you to keep blaming yourself."
"So you keep coming here, what, because I'm some kind of suspect?" Lia accused.
"Not to me. I should be treating you like a suspect but that feels totally wrong to me. I think his death has a connection to the park. I think the answer is here somehow, but if it weren't, I think I'd be coming up here anyway because I like you."
"I'm not ready for this. I'm not ready for any of it."
"I know you aren't. You could help me though."
"How?"
"You know the players. You can give me background information. "
"You really think somebody here did this? I can't believe it."
"It has to be someone you know. They had to have access to you to take your phone. And they'd have to have been to the park to know how secluded this lot really is, even though it's right on the street. They'd have to know you had a fight and that you were likely to unplug the phone."
"This keeps getting better and better."
"I'm really sorry. Do you see why it's so important that you not talk about this until I say it's okay?
"
"I've got to tell them something. Everyone who's here knows you said something that upset me and everyone who's not here will know by tomorrow," Lia pointed out.
Peter pondered. "How about if you just tell them about the girlfriends? Will that work?"
She nodded. "Sure. I guess so."
"I'll need to interview you more formally, and record it. Later today, if possible. I can come by your place."
"How about the studio? It'll be easier for me to talk if I'm moving my hands."
"Will it be private?"
"Sure. Bailey's going to be out with Jose today, tearing up Catherine's yard. She won't be helping me."
"Can I give you a lift? This might not be a good time for you to drive."
"We walked up today. I think I need the walk home."
He watched her walk over to her friends, looked on as Marie and Bailey came out of the woods and joined them, saw Anna put an arm around her and stroll with her to the corral and down to the parking lot. He wished it could be him comforting her. But it couldn't. At least she had someone.
~ ~ ~
Keep still. This was getting increasingly harder. That scene at the park, what was that about? Surely it had to be more than Luthor's bimbo girlfriends. How could Lia not have known? And why was Dourson still pursuing this? She'd been over it again and again. She'd made no mistakes. Yes, the cash confused things and that was too bad. But people with money and extra girlfriends could still kill themselves.
She thought of a scene from the movie, Lord of the Rings, when the hobbits are hiding under the road as the Nazgul pass over. Worms and centipedes and every creepy thing imaginable are coming out of the earth to get away from the ringwraiths and they're crawling all over the hobbits, and the hobbits can't move a muscle or they'll be discovered.
Keep. Still.
Chapter 10
Sunday, May 15, continued
Lia pulled out her template for "peace." Catherine's labyrinth called for fifty pavers featuring the symbol. Maybe if she dedicated today to "peace," some of it might rub off on her. She laid the circle on her work table and opened the box of midnight blue tile cut in random shapes. She got out her nippers and goggles and pulled up a stool. Arranging the tiles to fill the shape of the symbol absorbed her. When she was done, she filled in the background with random pieces of rose, saffron, and yellow. She gave the final design a once over, tweaking the tile shapes so that there was room for the concrete in between. Then she cut a one foot square of clear contact paper and laid this on top, carefully rubbing it on the tile so it would hold the pieces in place while the paver was cast.