A Catered Birthday Party Part 25

"The dog? Your wife?" Bernie asked. "Which?"

"Both."

"No. You are saying that, not me," Bernie pointed out.

"You really are crazy," Richard said. He turned to Sean. "Your daughter is nuts. Do you know that?"

Sean didn't bother to suppress a smile. "She does elicit that reaction from some people."

"I think it's interesting that Annabel and Trudy are both female," Bernie said.

"I don't have to listen to this," Richard cried. But he stayed put.

Bernie continued, "From what I've heard, you have lots of problems with the female s.e.x, but then I guess that's what happens when you get greedy. What did Annabel think of your running around? She can't have been happy about you s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g Joanna, then moving on to Melissa. And I'm not even going to talk about Joyce," Bernie said, taking a random shot. "No wonder her husband wanted a divorce."

"Is that what Joyce said?" Richard asked, his voice tight with suppressed emotion.

"Yes," Bernie lied. "It is."

"Really?"

"Really," Bernie repeated, feeling a small stab of guilt at what she was saying. The operative word here was small.

"You go ask her about her business," Richard said.

"You mean selling Avon?" Libby asked.

"Her other business. The one she was trying to develop."

"You mean the dog treats. We already know about those," Bernie said.

"I think it was too much for her, Annabel using another one of her ideas. I think it flipped her out."

"So Annabel stole the idea for the Puggables?" Libby asked.

"I wouldn't say steal," Richard said. "I'd say she was inspired by the dogs Joyce made."

"Inspired?" Bernie asked. "That's not the word Joyce used."

"I have no doubt of that. Annabel and I tried to work out something with her. We tried to come to some sort of understanding. But she wanted an immense sum of money-which we didn't have at the time. The agreement we were trying to work out fell apart. Annabel felt guilty. She tried to make it up to her, but I don't think Joyce ever forgave her. Not really. She's someone who can hold a grudge for a long time."

"Does she hold a grudge against you?" Libby asked.

"Yes, she does," Richard said. "We hardly speak. That's why I find her allegations about me so absurd."

"Interesting," Bernie said. "Then why were you over there?"

Richard blinked. "What do you mean?" he asked.

"Exactly what she said," Libby replied.

Richard's face froze. "I don't understand."

"We saw you, you know," Bernie informed him. "We were three-quarters of the way down the street when you pulled up to Joyce's house. Boy you made good time getting there. Was Joyce in this with you? Is that why you hightailed it over there? Or did she need some consolation? I'm told that grief and fear do that to some people-you know, awakens their s.e.x drives. Tell me. I'm curious. Inquiring minds want to know."

"You'd better be careful what you say," Richard hissed.

"Or you'll what?" Bernie countered. "Kill me too?"

"Something much worse," Richard said.

"Oooh," Bernie said. "I'm scared."

"You should be," Richard said, and he turned and stomped down the stairs. "My lawyer will be in touch."

"Nothing like p.i.s.sing people off, I always say," Sean commented as soon as he heard the door slam.

"What do you think he'll do?" Libby asked her dad.

"Get in touch with his lawyer."

"What could he sue us for?" Bernie demanded.

Sean shrugged. "Who knows? Lawyers can always find something."

Libby turned to her sister. "Really, Bernie, you didn't have to be so harsh."

"Harsh? Richard Colbert comes barging in here screaming and yelling about his dog and I was harsh?" Bernie cried, stung by her sister's criticism. "We're talking about someone who might have poisoned his wife in cold blood." Fixing her gaze on her dad, Bernie continued, "And as long as we're apportioning blame, Richard wouldn't have come up here if it wasn't for Trudy going missing."

"That's true," Libby acknowledged.

"Dad, where is the dog?" Bernie demanded.

"Yes. What is going on here?" Libby asked. "Please explain."

"I don't know where Trudy is," Sean told his daughters. It was the principle of the thing. He didn't like being interrogated by anyone, but especially not by his daughters.

Bernie raised an eyebrow. "What a big fat lie you just told."

"I don't lie," Sean bl.u.s.tered. What had happened to the whole respect-your-father deal? He would never have talked to his dad this way. Ever. He wouldn't have been able to sit down for a week if he had.

"That's true," Bernie said. "You don't lie. You evade, omit, and confabulate." She continued, "Now I know you had the dog. I'm guessing that's why Samantha came up here, right? She took the dog and she wanted to speak to one of us. Only you were here instead."

"Why would she take the dog?" Sean asked.

"I guess we'll have to ask her," Libby said to Bernie. "Maybe we should call her up."

Sean crossed his arms over his chest. "Be my guest. Question your father's integrity."

"Spare me," Bernie said.

"Go ahead. Dial."

Bernie sighed. "What's the point? She'll just say what you told her to."

Sean certainly hoped that was the case. "You have no patience."

"Patience?" Bernie echoed. "What does patience have to do with anything? Next you're going to tell me that all will be revealed in time."

"Well, it will."

"When?" Libby demanded. "Can you give us a time frame here?"

Jeez, Sean thought. She sounds just like me. "I can't tell you," Sean answered. "Honestly. I would if I could, but I can't."

"Can't, or won't?" Bernie challenged.

"Both," Sean admitted. "It's for your own good."

Bernie snorted. "Ha. I don't believe that for one minute. If you're going to make up an excuse, at least make up a good one."

But what Sean had told them was true. The less they knew the better.

For a few seconds he debated about explaining that to them but decided that would bring up a whole host of other questions he didn't want to answer. Sean almost wished he were back in the Mini Cooper with Samantha. That was actually easier than this. He watched Libby chew on the inside of her lip while she thought. Never a good thing.

"She can't be at Clyde's," she mused. "For one thing, Mrs. Clyde is allergic to dogs, and for another, I don't think Clyde would do something illegal."

"Never," Sean managed to get out without dissolving in a fit of laughter.

Libby turned to her father in alarm as another idea occurred to her. "Tell me you didn't get Marvin involved in this."

"I'm telling you I didn't get Marvin involved in this."

"I'm serious, Dad."

"So am I.I wouldn't do something like that." Aside from everything else, Marvin would probably lose the dratted dog when he took Trudy out for a walk. Sean raised his hand. "I swear. There. Is that good enough for you?"

Bernie tapped her nails on her thighs. "Well, she's got to be somewhere. Is she with Amber or Googie?"

Sean remained silent.

Bernie answered her own question. "No. That wouldn't work. Neither of them could have left the store and both of them live in places that don't allow pets. So that leaves only one person."

Sean put his poker face on as he waited for Bernie's conclusion.

"The dog's in Ines's house, isn't she?" Bernie asked.

"No," Sean lied. "She's not."

Bernie inspected his face. She was pretty sure her dad was lying, but when he got like this she could never be absolutely certain. "This was a bad idea, Dad," Bernie said. "A very bad idea." When she got hold of Samantha she was going to wring her neck. She had enough drama in her life without this.

Sean leaned forward slightly. Never defend. Always attack. That was his motto. It had served him well over the years and he wasn't about to change it now.

"I'll tell you what's a bad idea, Bernie. Saying what you said to Richard. Now that's a bad idea. You obviously haven't learned anything from your encounter with Rick."

Bernie looked unrepentant. "I was just trying to shake him up."

"And you certainly did that," Sean agreed.

"So what's the problem?" Bernie asked. "You always said that was a good thing to do, to get things moving."

Sean took in a deep breath and let it out. He knew he had said that in the past. And it was a good thing to do. But it was one thing having his men doing it and another thing having his daughters do it. Not that he was going to say that. Even he knew better than that.

"Next time, just leave that kind of thing to me," he told her instead. He judged that to be a fairly neutral comment.

Evidently Bernie didn't think so, given the look on her face. She put her hands on her hips. Her mouth fairly quivered with indignation. "After everything that's happened? After all the criminal cases we've been involved in, you don't think I can take care of myself?" she cried. "How can you say something like that?"

"Of course I think you can take care of yourself," Sean told his daughter. "I raised you, didn't I? I taught you the three deadliest judo moves, didn't I?" Much to his wife's dismay, he could have added. "You and your sister have done a great job solving the cases we've taken on. Better than some of my men. I guess I get a little overprotective from time to time. You know, your mom would come back from the other side and kill me if anything happened to either of you. And I'd deserve it."

Bernie felt all her annoyance and anger flow out of her. She went over, bent down, and gave her dad a hug. Libby did the same.

"Nothing is going to happen to any of us," Bernie said. "I promise."

Libby nodded. "And I second that promise. Let's stop arguing."

Sean grinned. "Works for me."

Suddenly he felt better. The truth was, he hated being the bad guy to his girls, and had ever since they were little. He'd left that role to his wife, much to her chagrin. He was the one who'd given them candy before meals and let them drive his car around the parking lot when they were twelve.

His wife, Rose, had called him a pushover when it came to them. And he was. And always would be. Not that any of his men or the civilians he dealt with over the years would have believed that about him, but fighting with his daughters just upset him. It was as simple as that. He leaned back as his daughters settled themselves on either side of the sofa across from him.

When they'd both gotten comfortable, Libby putting her feet up on the coffee table and Bernie folding her legs into a lotus position, he said, "I think it's time that someone talked to Melissa."

"Richard's probably talking to her already," Libby observed.

"I'm counting on it," Sean said.

Bernie gave him a quizzical look.

Sean explained, "Now that you've stirred up the pot, so to speak, we might as well take advantage of it." He looked out the window. It had begun to snow. Big fat flakes. They reminded him of Ivory Snow, the detergent his mom had used. "How about some tea?" he said to Libby. After this afternoon, he could certainly use something warm and soothing. "And a piece of your coconut cake wouldn't be so bad either."

Libby c.o.c.ked her head. "You never eat coconut cake, Dad. You always eat white cake with chocolate icing."

Sean folded his hands in his lap. "Well, I've decided that today is a day for trying new things. Having a piece of coconut cake is one of those new things."

"Maybe we should see Joyce on the way over to Melissa's," Bernie suggested.

Sean nodded his a.s.sent. "Sounds like a plan to me."