Three Dog Island Read online

  “Are these coming with us?”

  “No, I just confiscated the imitation one to bring you. Thought you might want to take it to one of your lectures. But then Jasper wanted me to give you his as a gift.”

  “Seriously?” His eyes sparkled with appreciation.

  “Jasper is also insisting on making a new sculpture just for you. Something similar.”

  “I’m honored. This is incredible.” He looked at me through those loving brown eyes. “He must be very fond of you, lassie. I can’t say I blame him.”

  I reached up and kissed him on the cheek.

  “Is Rocky coming with us?” His voice was warm and husky, the way it often was after a kiss, even one on the cheek.

  “I figured Josh and Charlie could look after him.” I picked up my cell phone and dialed my father’s number. Looking out the window toward his house, I could imagine Charlie tromping toward his phone.

  “Are you here already, Jenny?”

  “Aye, Charlie. Across the street from your house as we speak. MacGregor is about to go pack. Do you mind looking after Rocky?”

  “Of course not. Josh and I will be right over.”

  “What is this?” I asked MacGregor, eyeing a new dusty blue vase on his bookshelf beside an original Dickens.

  He kissed my forehead in the exact spot where the pain still lingered. “It caught my eye when I stopped in at your co-op to see your display. Couldn’t resist it.”

  “You know I would have given it to you.”

  “I enjoyed buying it.”

  Okay, I was now officially swept off my feet. If Charlie and Josh hadn’t arrived at MacGregor’s a minute later, our departure for Portland would have been markedly delayed.

  “Have you forgotten that I’ve been helping look after Rocky for the past month,” Josh said as I gave him detailed feeding instructions.

  I frowned, rubbing my forehead. Although MacGregor’s kiss had definitely eased the pain, the headache wasn’t completely gone. I was glad he would be doing the driving. “I’m sorry, Josh, I just have a lot on my mind. I know Rocky will be in good hands.”

  “Are you okay, Jenny?”

  “You don’t look so well, lassie,” Charlie said. “What’s bothering you?”

  “Just a lot of information swirling around in my head, I think. Once it starts to come together and make some sense, I’ll feel a lot better.”

  Charlie raised an eyebrow but didn’t ask for details. He knew how my mind worked and how I had to leave information alone to allow it time to steep. “Is there anything you need from Josh before you head out?”

  “Not a bad idea. Let’s sit down for a minute.” They followed me into MacGregor’s living room where I was beginning to feel very at home.

  “Are you sure they didn’t know you followed Al that day?” I asked.

  Josh looked at me. “Mark and Al? The day of the shooting? I don’t think so. I got home way before Al did.”

  An image of Matthew and Josh driving off to the ferry popped into my mind, Matthew’s gaze vigilant from behind the wheel. “Could Al have seen you in his rear view mirror?”

  “It’s possible, I guess. I hung way back though.”

  Still, even if he just saw a kid on a bike, he might have suspected it was Josh.

  “And you stayed out of sight once you got there, right?”

  “Right. He got there a couple minutes before I did. For sure.”

  “What was happening when you arrived?”

  Charlie interrupted, putting his hand on Josh’s shoulder. “Sit down, laddie and relax. Then tell us from start to finish what happened.”

  “Why? Is this important? Have you figured something out?”

  Charlie looked over at me, then answered Josh. “Not yet, but when Jenny asks questions, I know enough to help her find the answers.”

  Josh blew out his breath, gave Rocky a couple pats on the head, and leaned back in his chair. “Okay. First we heard some gun shots off in the distance. But I could tell they weren’t too far away. I was in the kitchen getting some orange juice. Al was at the table drinking a beer. Mom was still at work.”

  “How many?” I asked.

  “How many beers?”

  “Gun shots,” Charlie answered.

  “I don’t remember. Three, four maybe. Anyway, about a minute later, Al’s cell phone rang. It was Mark Simpson. Al hung up, stuffed his phone in his pocket, grabbed the keys to his pickup, and ran out the door.”

  “Did you hear enough of the conversation to know where he was going?” I asked.

  Josh thought for a minute. “I think I asked him what was up. He mumbled something about helping Mark handcuff some guys he busted. Oh, and then, just before he slammed the kitchen door, he told me to stay put.”

  “But you didn’t,” Charlie said.

  Josh shook his head. “I waited until Al had backed out of the driveway and was about a block away, jumped on my bike—”

  “With or without a helmet?” I asked. Must have been a mother’s question instead of a detective’s. Maybe not.

  “Without. I hardly ever wear one. I followed him, keeping a long ways away. He went straight for three blocks, I think, then turned left for a couple, then right for about four blocks, then another left for a block.”

  “What was the closest you ever got to him?” Charlie asked.

  Josh shrugged. “A block maybe?”

  “City block?” Charlie asked.

  “Yeah. Not real long or anything, but I doubt he coulda recognized me.”

  He wouldn’t have had to. All he would have needed to know was that a kid on a bike was following him, a kid who rarely wore a helmet.

  “I mean, I was real careful,” Josh said. “I stayed so far back that I lost him a couple times. He was going pretty fast in that rusted old pickup of his. Once he made that last turn, I lost him. I thought he’d kept going straight but I heard another shot from somewhere on the left so I started looking down streets as I passed them. That’s when I spotted his truck. He’d turned left and gone about half a block.” He reached out and stroked Rocky’s head that seemed to have found a permanent resting spot on his leg. “You don’t think they’re after me because they think I overheard them talking about the station and stuff, do you? You think it has to do with the shooting.”

  Charlie and I looked at each other. “I’m not sure,” I said. But suddenly I felt even more anxious to get on the road.

  Chapter 25

  “Where are we?” I sat upright, my eyes blurry as I gazed out the car window.

  “About a half hour north of Portland,” MacGregor answered.

  I reached for my water bottle and gulped down half of it. “Why did you let me sleep all the way?”

  “You obviously needed to, lassie.”

  “Terrible company, I turned out to be.”

  “That you did, darlin’.” He looked over at me with that impish smile he gets when he means the opposite of his words. “You didn’t sleep last night?”

  “Not a lot. My mind kept going around and around, thinking, analyzing— Kind of like Hamlet. “

  His face was still lit with amusement. He didn’t mind that about me. In fact, he seemed to find my over-analytical, borderline neurotic brain charming. “So, now that you’re awake, where exactly are we going? Are we checking into a hotel or going straight to see Dori Arellano?”

  I pulled my notebook out of my purse and gave MacGregor the directions that Charlie had given me to Dori Arellano’s home.

  “So, how is your case going?” I asked.

  “What case?”

  I stifled a laugh. “The one you’re helping Charlie with.”

  He didn’t look up from the road, but I saw the surprise on his face. He didn’t realize that I knew he was helping Charlie and he was wondering who had told me. I refrained from telling him that Josh had mentioned it more than once. But the truth was, no one needed to tell me. The more secretive he and Charlie were, the more suspicious I became. Something else he
failed to realize—during this cautious exchange he had basically admitted that he did not want me to know about it.

  “A wee bit more slowly than we’d like,” he finally answered.

  “And when do you think you’ll be telling me about it?”

  “When it’s prudent to do so. Charlie has been working hard on Josh’s case though.” He quickly, but not so cleverly, changed the subject. He must have taken Charlie 101 as well, the class that taught aspiring PI’s how to avoid unpleasant subjects. Or maybe he’d simply been hanging out with Charlie long enough to recognize when he wanted me to stay out of something. ”He asked me to fill you in on some details on the way down.”

  “He’s too busy to tell me himself?”

  “Actually, you’ve been busy and he didn’t want to take any time away from your tasks at hand.”

  Not sure I was buying that, but I decided to let it pass. “So, what has he discovered?”

  “Apparently there have been a lot of crime reports where not much evidence or stolen property is recovered. It’s usually when there’s a drug bust involved or high-end jewelry is reported missing. He thinks Mark Simpson’s band of cops is doing more than just skimming off the top.”

  “How would he know that?”

  “Because the people who have been robbed report the crimes. It’s not just a case of busting the bad guys and keeping some of the loot. The cops know who was robbed and they’re not recovering the jewelry. At least, they’re not returning it to their rightful owners. That puts this on an entirely different playing field.”

  “No integrity.”

  “Precisely.”

  “I’m surprised you and Charlie aren’t protesting my involvement with this case too.”

  MacGregor glanced over at me, meeting my eyes for an instant before giving his full attention to the bridge we were crossing. We both knew that any answer he gave me would be an admission that he and Charlie did not want me involved with this other mysterious case the two of them were working on.

  “We’re wise enough to know we can’t keep you out of this one, not with Josh involved.” Full on admission. I appreciated his honesty, despite its circuitous route.

  “Anyway,” he continued to brief me, “A lot of these thefts that involve jewelry seem to be happening shortly after people have purchased the jewelry. It’s almost as if these cops have been tipping off the thieves, setting them up to steal, and then raiding their place. It’s no small operation, McNair. This is happening in several areas up and down the coast.”

  “You think they tip off the thieves? How?”

  “Charlie has a theory. He thinks they’re patrolling high-end jewelry stores. They see when someone comes out; they watch them get in their car, take down their license plate numbers, find out where they live, and leak it somehow.”

  “Wow. It is a bigger operation than we thought. No wonder they’re so nervous about Josh overhearing their conversations.” If that was what they were worried about. “You know, I think I want to see Grace Wallace first.”

  “Josh’s mother?”

  “Right.” I gave MacGregor directions to the diner. Forty five minutes later we were sitting in the parking lot, no cop cars in sight.

  He wanted to go in with me but I did not want her to be intimidated. I needed her to talk.

  Her eyes opened wide when she saw me. I sat at the far end of the counter facing her. Quickly she grabbed the coffee pot and filled my cup, whispering, “Is he okay?”

  I nodded. “He’s fine. But he misses you.”

  Her shoulders slumped as if in defeat. “I miss him so much.”

  “This can’t go on much longer, Grace. Wherever he goes, the cops seem to find him. At least most of the time. And I don’t mean the good cops.”

  “But I didn’t tell anyone anything. After you told me not to. Not even Al. “

  “That’s good, but there must be some kind of network because they found him, even at my place.” I didn’t know that for a fact, but it was worth throwing it in.

  “He’s missing so much school.” Not exactly top priority but it was a point.

  “He’s home schooling,” I told her. “Even so, this is no way for a teenage boy to live.”

  ‘I know, but I don’t know what to do.” Realizing the coffee decanter was shaking in her hand, she set it on the counter. “If I tell—”

  “I don’t think there’s any other option. Unless you give me enough information to catch them in the act of whatever it is they’re doing.” I did not tell her how much I already had discovered. I couldn’t trust her not to tell them either inadvertently or not. If that happened, they would shut down their operation or move it and we’d never catch them.

  “I don’t know if I can do that.”

  “Think about it. I’ll come back tomorrow or call the diner. I need some help here, Grace. If I’m going to keep your son safe, I need your help.”

  She nodded and I felt as though I’d made some headway. Mother’s guilt had long arms that tended to stretch all the way to the heart.

  I was relieved to make it back to the car before any cops pulled into the parking lot.

  “Any luck?”

  “I hope so.”

  MacGregor watched me for a minute, obviously waiting for me to explain. I shrugged. “I think she’s ready to help us. We just need the right trigger.”

  “Which is?”

  I looked up at the cloud-laden sky. “Hopefully the Universe knows because I sure don’t.”

  MacGregor reached over and squeezed my hand. “Just one of the things I love about you.”

  I considered requesting a detailed account of the other items on his list, and an explanation of his meaning of the word “love” as used in that sentence. But I was on a mission here. Distractions like MacGregor’s words of affection were not going to help. Maybe after all this was over, I would suddenly become brave and ask him.

  Instead I said, “How’s this for a plan? We check into a hotel and then have some lunch.” I glanced at the clock on the dash board. No wonder my stomach was growling. “I didn’t have a chance to make a reservation, but I’m sure we’ll be able to find—”

  “I did.”

  “Really?” Okay, this was not good. He was too perfect. And if anyone knew that perfection was overrated, I did. Aside from that, it only made me feel more insecure. “Where?”

  “A lovely bed and breakfast on the river.”

  I cringed.

  “You don’t like bed and breakfasts?”

  “Love them.”

  “You’re allergic to rivers?”

  “Love them.”

  “Then—?”

  “Do you have any flaws? Besides snoring, that is?”

  He laughed and tucked my hand neatly inside of his. “You can spend the next several years finding out.”

  I think I swooned just before he kissed me. Or maybe it was just after. Now I was selfishly anxious to get this mission completed so that not only could Josh get on with his life, but so I could as well.

  After a pleasant lunch, we made our way to Dori Arellano’s home which was not far from Grace’s diner. As I recalled, Dori also worked at the diner. There was a beige Toyota in the driveway.

  MacGregor knew the drill. He didn’t even ask to come in with me. “Do you know what you’re going to say, lassie?”

  “I’ve no idea,” I told him as I closed the car door.

  The house was dark, blinds down, no lights shining through windows. I made my way down the walkway to the front door, reaching inside my purse to turn on my miniature tape recorder. The door opened after my second knock. Her eyes were red and swollen, her hair unwashed. She wore a pair of black jeans and a crumpled shirt and no make up. She was still in mourning.

  “Mrs. Arellano?” I asked.

  “Yes?”

  I was prepared to tell her I was a minister who led healing groups, but when standing there face to face with her, my intuition took a different tack. “My name is Jenny McNair. I’m a
private detective.”

  Her eyes opened wider as they met mine. “What—? What do you want?”

  “I’m investigating your husband’s death.”

  “But why? He was shot by those thugs when they raided their house. What is there to investigate?”

  “May I?” I asked, stepping through the threshold as she stepped back. “I’m so sorry to disturb you like this. I know this is a very difficult time for you.”

  “Yes.” She sighed, releasing a week’s worth of toxic energy. “I miss my husband terribly.”

  “I understand he was a very kind person.” A bit of an exaggeration from what Josh had told me.

  “Yes. He was a kind kind man. And he loved me very much.” She attempted to sniff back tears but it was a losing battle. “I still don’t understand why a private investigator would be involved with this.”

  “Because there are some things that aren’t quite right. I’m sorry to bring this up, but we’re aware that your husband and his partner were involved in an illegal operation.”

  Her eyes filled with fear. “How do you— Why do you think that?”

  I put my hand gently on hers. “We don’t think it. We know it, for a fact.” Why was I telling her this, when I had not told Grace? I suppose, because if I had learned anything, it was to listen to my intuition. Maybe it knew we were on the final stretch.

  She didn’t question my knowledge. Guilt struck me for taking advantage of a vulnerable woman in mourning, but the thought of Josh never being able to live a normal life, kept me going.

  “How long has it been going on?”

  “A long time. I don’t know. A few years. It’s gotten worse. It started out with just taking stuff from a bust or a few things here and there, but then they started going after really expensive stuff—jewelry, sound systems, computers, stuff like that that belonged to good people, you know? And they knew who those people were. That’s when Bob wanted out.”

  Ah, the motive. My intuition had not led me astray. The direct approach had produced results.

  “He knew it was wrong. He didn’t want to do it anymore. He was the sweetest man. He just wanted to give me a good life. That’s all. But he wanted out.”

  It was beginning to come together. “Did he tell his partner that?”