Nonstop Spaniels (Novella)

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Authors: Linda O. Johnston
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Ideman.
    One day, when we were both in the cat house changing the litter containers and playing with some of the kitties, Ricki thanked me yet again. She’d been doing that a lot since Spencer’s arrest. “I don’t know what I’d have done without you, Lauren.” She looked relaxed in her HotRescues volunteer outfit.
    “You’d have been fine,” I assured her. “You were innocent.”
    “That doesn’t mean I wouldn’t have been arrested,” she said, teasing a lion-toned kitty with a toy that resembled a feathery fish, of all things. As she leaned over, her dark ponytail slid forward, and the cat, whose name was Raja, took a swipe at it with her left paw. We both laughed.
    “Will you still intern at the PetForYou veterinary clinic?” I asked.
    “Frank is now looking for an even better situation for me,” she said, smiling. “He told me that, after all I’d been through, I deserve it.”
    “You sure do,” I agreed, and went back to playing with a black cat named Omni.
    • • • 
    As the time passed, I kept in as close touch with Antonio as I could. I could hear the laughter in his tone a lot when I called him. He apparently found my frustration amusing—which might have been why he didn’t tell me much.
    At least, not until he invited Matt and me to join Brooke and him for dinner on Saturday night. Our dogs were invited, too.
    It wasn’t the first time this group had gotten together for what appeared to be a double date. We chose a nice steak joint not far from HotRescues—one that, of course, had an outside eating area so the dogs were welcome. That was generally our number one criterion when we decided to try a new restaurant.
    This place had a reputation, though, of being a little more formal than our usual hangouts, so the guys had both worn nice shirts and sport coats. I hadn’t had time to return home to change, but I always kept a snazzier outfit at HotRescues, just in case. I wore slacks, but a dressier pair than usual, and a blouse also with a jacket over it. Brooke was most appropriately clad in a slinky black dress, and I watched Antonio’s dark eyes as they stared at her appreciatively.
    Three dogs accompanied us, since Matt had taken the time to go home for Rex and his change of clothes. Brooke’s Cheyenne and my Zoey sat at our feet on the concrete patio. None of them seemed inclined to lie down yet in the crowded eating area, since there were lots of people around us whose food had been served, so doggy noses remained happily in the air.
    We’d given our orders and were sipping on wine from a bottle that Antonio had selected for the table. All our discussion had been small talk, and I was getting antsy.
    “Okay,” I finally said to Antonio. “Tell us what’s going on, Detective.” I assumed it was good stuff, or he wouldn’t have ordered such a nice wine.
    “I was wondering how long it would take for you to start pushing me,” he said, smiling.
    Brooke nudged him with her shoulder in gentle rebuke. I, in turn, glanced toward Matt, whose expression was amused. And when Matt looked amused, his great-looking features got even more handsome. And sexy. I suddenly looked forward to some alone time later.
    After we got some answers.
    Antonio took a sip of wine. Since he was a cop, I’d have expected him to order hard liquor or beer instead, but he didn’t fit into any kind of mold. “Here’s what’s going on,” he finally said.
    Murder suspect Spencer Quivara remained in police custody, without bail. He continued to give the impression of being a young guy who got in over his head when he started trying to help his girlfriend Ellie out at PetForYou.
    On the other hand, he didn’t really have to do more than help with bookkeeping. If he’d been genuine, he would have reported to the board about how Dr. Dan Ideman was stealing a lot of the shelter’s donations for his own use. Apparently Ideman thought he was entitled since a percentage of the veterinary clinic’s profits

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