Girl's Best Friend Page 14

  I’m so sorry for the pain I’ve caused you. Please know that this was unavoidable. You have done nothing wrong. It’s all me. I am weak but I’m no thief. I’ve returned your money and I’m sending you a thousand apologies for all the pain and distress I’ve caused. I didn’t mean to fall in love with someone else. These things just happen. Our love burned strong, as bright as fire. But all fires fade and turn into ash. Well, that’s it. I’ve now found a new spark. And speaking of which—you’ll find your savings in an envelope in your favorite hiding spot. Please forgive me but I couldn’t bear to face you in person. I am a coward and you’re probably better off without me.

  I hope you can cherish the good times. I know I will. And it’s just a sad reality that all wonderful things must come to an end.

  With fond memories,

  John

  Isabel looked over my shoulder and asked, “Did you get to the part where he claims I’m better off without him? Like he’d done me a big favor by leaving me for another woman!”

  She blew her nose again. Loudly.

  I didn’t answer her because I was too focused on the letter. “You definitely had a favorite hiding spot?” I asked. “He didn’t make that up?”

  “I’ve had lots of favorite hiding spots,” said Isabel. “And I’ve been to all the ones I can remember. I’ve searched this house high and low: the secret passageways, the safe on the second floor, the trick bookcase in Glen’s living room, the—”

  “There’s a trick bookcase in this house?” I asked. “How cool!”

  Isabel smiled. “There are lots of cool things in this house, Maggie. You’ve just got to look closely. And I have. It seems that the one thing this house doesn’t have is my money. I’m wondering if John changed his mind and decided to keep it after all. Perhaps he even sent a letter in retraction and I’ll find that in another fifteen years.”

  I read the note a second time, this time really studying it.

  “It’s probably time to give up,” said Isabel. “I don’t know why I even bothered. I’ve been fine without the money and I will continue to be fine. I should burn his note. It’s better than dwelling on the past. More honorable than searching for something that’s maybe not even—”

  “Hold on,” I said, interrupting. “I think I know where it is.”

  Chapter 24

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  Once I thought about it for half a second, John’s clues became obvious, but I guess Isabel was too close to recognize them.

  So I pointed them out to her. “See how he writes about a spark and fire?”

  Isabel nodded. “Yes, so what?”

  “And then it burns out.”

  “Gibberish,” said Isabel.

  “No, I think there’s more to it. I think it’s a clue. He’s not just talking about your romance—or not only talking about that. It’s a metaphor.”

  Isabel sniffed. “I’m not really following.”

  “Think for a second. He’s dropping hints.” I read what I thought was the most important line out loud: “ ‘All fires fade and turn to ash.’ ”

  “I still don’t see it,” said Isabel.

  “Then answer me this—where else do you find ashes but in a fireplace? And considering that the ones in this house are no longer functional … where better to hide something important?”

  Isabel grabbed the letter and scanned it. “There are fireplaces on all four floors. Can you tell which one he meant?”

  “No, but there’s only one way to find out.”

  We checked Isabel’s first, but it wasn’t there. “I suppose that would have been too easy,” said Isabel, frowning into her empty fireplace.

  “You’re right,” I said. “And it can’t be in mine, either, because Finn and I use our fireplace to hide stuff. So let’s try Glen’s.”

  “All right.” Isabel stood and lifted up one of the couch cushions.

  “What are you doing?” I asked.

  “Looking for the key to that padlock I put on the basement door. I know I put it under a cushion somewhere. Or did I hide it in a kitchen cabinet?”

  “Um, I think maybe we’re better off using the front door,” I said.

  “Oh, okay.” Isabel blushed. “I suppose I’ve done enough sneaking around for this lifetime.”

  Isabel was so excited, she beat me up the steps. We knocked on Glen’s door, but he didn’t answer.

  “I suppose he’s not home,” Isabel said, and she turned to me with a gleam in her eye. “Are you sure you don’t want to sneak in through the wall? It’s kind of fun.”

  “It’s tempting,” I said. “But let’s try Chloe’s place first.”

  We went downstairs and tried Chloe, who was at home cooking chili. “Can I help you?” she asked, answering the door in a gravy-stained apron.

  “Isabel lost something,” I said. “A long time ago. And we think it might be in your faux fireplace. Mind if we check it out?”

  “Um, I guess not,” said Chloe. She stepped aside so we could go in. “Good thing I just cleaned up.”

  I couldn’t tell if Chloe was being sarcastic or not, but her apartment looked pretty messy to me. We had to step over piles of books and a couple of electric guitars on our way past the living room. And Isabel tripped on a drumstick in the hallway, but luckily I caught her before she fell.

  When we finally got to the fireplace in Chloe’s bedroom, Isabel knelt down in front of it.

  “It’s painted shut!” she cried, shaking the handle.

  “Let me try.” I turned the handle and banged the upper left-hand corner, but the door didn’t budge. “Um, do you have a chisel I can borrow?” I asked Chloe. “And a hammer?”

  She tilted her head and stared. “But I just painted that last week.”

  “It’s an emergency,” I said.

  “I’ll pay to have it repainted,” said Isabel. “And if Maggie’s hunch is correct, it won’t even be an issue.”

  Chloe sighed and untied her apron. “Okay then. I’ll get the tool kit.”

  A moment later, I was banging away at the chisel, carefully so as not to damage the door (or my fingers). The seal broke pretty quickly, and the thick red layer of paint peeled away, revealing layers of blue, green, and gray. I chipped harder and the flakes scattered to the floor like confetti.

  “You sure you know what you’re doing?” asked Chloe, staring down at the mess.

  “Um, not exactly,” I said as I turned the handle and pulled. The door was jammed, of course. I gritted my teeth and yanked harder. The door swung open with a loud creak.

  “Well done!” Isabel clapped.

  “Let’s not speak too soon,” I said, reaching into the cold, dark space. I felt something lumpy stuck to the top of it—a large envelope of some sort. I pulled it free. It was covered in ash and stuffed full of something. I handed it to Isabel, figuring it was hers to open.

  She peered inside and gasped, hugging the envelope to her chest. “Oh my.”

  “Don’t leave us in suspense,” I said.

  With tears in her eyes, Isabel nodded. “It’s there. I’ll need to count it, but from the looks of it, well, John wasn’t as bad as I’d thought.”

  “Um, what’s going on?” asked Chloe.

  “It’s a long story,” I replied, sitting back on my heels. “But let me put it to you this way: we just solved your mouse problem.”

  Chapter 25

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  As I lay in bed that night, I thought about Isabel’s life and how it linked to mine in ways I’d never before realized. If she’d found her money fifteen years ago, or if John hadn’t taken it from her in the first place, she never would’ve had to divide her brownstone into four apartments.

  That meant my family wouldn’t live here. We’d be in some other building—probably far from Garfield Place—and my life would be completely different. I’d never have known Isabel, or Preston, either. And with no dog to walk, Parminder never would’ve mistaken me for a dog walker.

  Which meant I never w
ould have become a dog walker. I’d just be plain old Maggie Brooklyn—a twin with a not-so-secret crush, three great friends, and one frenemy.

  Or maybe not even that. My parents might have moved to an entirely different neighborhood. Then I’d never have even known Ivy or any of my real friends.

  It was crazy to think about how much of what really mattered—all the important stuff—kind of happened at random.

  My life as a giant Connect the Dots, a picture in perpetual motion.

  But Isabel had rented my family an apartment and here I was, wasting time marveling over what could’ve been and not coming any closer to finding Kermit.

  I walked my dogs as usual over the next couple of days, and I noticed some ominous new signs around the neighborhood. A yellow Lab puppy was taken from outside the Tea Lounge on Union Street. Someone stole a Rhodesian ridgeback from the corner of Fifth Avenue and Second Street.

  Meanwhile, the days were getting shorter. All the telltale hints of summer—joggers in tank tops, sunbathers on the Long Meadow, kids tearing through sprinklers—had disappeared. Tank top by tank top. Blanket by blanket. Splash by splash …

  Even the dog beach got less popular—something that seemed eerily foreboding but was probably just a sign of the season. Still, it left me feeling prickly. Restless, too.

  Something had to be done—soon.

  Discovering the secret passageway in our building, decoding John’s note, and tracking down Isabel’s life savings—it made me realize something. I’d already solved a bunch of mysteries without even trying very hard.

  That meant I could track down Kermit, too. All I had to do was work harder. Somehow flip the metaphorical switch in my brain from stalled to overdrive. I started by making a list of what I already knew.

  1) Milo is innocent. Kind of. He doesn’t know anything about Kermit, anyway.

  2) Jane might be guilty, but if so, she isn’t working alone.

  3) Dr. Reese tried to operate on Preston for no real reason.

  4) Beckett’s dog, Cookie, died in surgery. Or so Dr. Reese claimed …

  5) According to Beckett and his mom, Cassie’s dog, Bean, looks exactly like Cookie.

  Meanwhile, I’d never even laid eyes on Cassie, although I’d been walking her dog for almost a month. She’d never returned my call from last week. Was it because she was hiding something? I had to find out, so I picked up the phone and dialed her number. As luck would have it, I learned that Cassie’s cable was out. She told me she’d be home the next day waiting for the repairperson.

  As soon as school got out, I headed to her apartment.

  When Cassie opened the door, I noticed not just her but the brand-new, larger-than-life portrait of Bean hanging on the wall behind her. In it, Bean was chilling out in a pile of leaves, looking peaceful and even friendly, wearing a bubblegum pink coat with a matching bow.

  “Do you like it?” Cassie asked.

  “It’s something,” I said to be polite. “I’m Maggie, by the way.”

  “I figured.” Cassie smiled to reveal dimples as she shook my hand. She was pretty—short and chubby with curly red hair and large green eyes. “It’s nice to finally meet you in person.”

  “You, too.”

  “Isn’t it amazing?” she asked, pointing to the painting. “I found this artist online. She works out of Montana and had to paint from pictures, but she really captured Bean’s essence, I think.”

  If she really wanted to capture Bean’s essence, she probably should’ve painted a picture of Bean with someone’s pant leg between her teeth, but I kept this observation to myself.

  Obviously Cassie loved her dog to the point of being oblivious to her flaws. It was sweet.

  “I almost went with a picture of Bean on a blanket in the sand with the ocean behind her. But the last time I took Bean to Coney Island she bit a lifeguard, so I don’t think she has the best associations with the beach,” she went on.

  Just as I’ll bet half of Brooklyn has bad associations with Bean, I thought, and since she expected me to say something, I told her I liked the fall leaves. “It’s very, um, seasonal.”

  “So true,” said Cassie. “Maybe I should have one made for the winter, too. You know, Bean playing in the snow.”

  “Does she like the snow?” I had a hard time imagining Bean liking anything.

  “I don’t know. This will be our first winter together. But I do look forward to buying her a winter wardrobe. Do you think she looks better in red or pink?”

  “Um, I haven’t given it much thought, but why go with a solid? I have a friend who’s an amazing knitter. I’ll bet she could make Bean a lovely striped sweater.”

  “A custom outfit,” said Cassie. “That’s a fabulous idea! I like the way you think, Maggie. In the meantime, can you take Bean out? It would be just my luck to leave and miss the cable guy, when I’ve been at home waiting all day.”

  “Of course,” I said. “That’s why I’m here!”

  “I’ll get her new leash.” She opened up the closet, rifled through a pile of bags on the floor, and handed me a garish purple thing. “Isn’t it cute?”

  “Adorable.” I clipped the leash to Bean’s collar, ignoring the slight snarl on her lips. “Hey, I was wondering about something … ”

  “Are you going to ask me why I’m obsessed with my dog?” asked Cassie. “I know it’s a little weird. My boyfriend broke up with me and I bought her a week later, but I don’t think those things are necessarily related. You know?”

  “No, that’s not it,” I said, although that kind of explained a lot. “You mentioned you haven’t had Bean that long, so I was wondering, when did you get her?”

  “It’ll be a month in three days,” she said. “Which reminds me, I’m throwing her an anniversary party and you’re invited. Your dog, too.”

  “I don’t have a dog.”

  “You don’t? That’s so sad!” Cassie cried. She really seemed upset by the news.

  “My brother’s allergic, but it’s no biggie, because I’m used to it. Not having a dog, that is. That’s why walking them is so much fun. Plus, our landlady has a dog that I help take care of and he feels like mine.”

  “But still … ”

  “Where did you find Bean?” I asked, finally getting to the point.

  “From a local breeder,” said Cassie.

  “Do you remember the name?”

  “I think so.” Cassie squinted, like she was struggling to think. “Bertha something.”

  “Not Brenda?” I asked.

  “Yes.” Cassie snapped her fingers. “Boutique Breeds by Brenda. I don’t know how I could’ve forgotten.”

  Just hearing the name out loud gave me the chills. It struck me that Cassie got her dog very soon after Beckett’s dog, Cookie, went to the farm. I already suspected Dr. Reese of something fishy. Could her twin sister be involved, too?

  “What’s Brenda like?” I asked.

  “Don’t know. I never met her,” Cassie replied.

  “So she wasn’t there when you got Bean?”

  “Bean was delivered by messenger, because Brenda doesn’t have an actual storefront in Brooklyn.”

  “So how did you find out about her?”

  “I saw a flyer hanging up at a pet store. Beastly Bites on Seventh Avenue? I went in there to buy a dog but it turns out they just sell food and supplies. Not actual animals, unless you count the frozen mice they sell as snake food. I’m not really sure—”

  “So you saw the flyer?” I asked to get her back on track.

  “Yes.” Cassie nodded. “On the bulletin board by the front. And I called the number. Brenda answered and I asked her what kinds of dogs she had and she asked me what kind of dog I wanted and I told her a Maltese. And she said I was in luck because they were expecting a bunch of Maltese puppies the following week.”

  Cassie was so sweet and sincere—a true animal lover. I’d crossed her off my list of suspects almost as soon as I’d met her, but her story still sounded suspicious. “Did
you ever speak to Brenda again?” I wondered.

  “Sure,” said Cassie. “I called her as soon as I found out Bean wasn’t actually a puppy.”

  “What?” I asked.

  “At her first exam, my veterinarian told me she was at least a year old, so I called Brenda to get the story. Brenda was as shocked as I was. She said I could return the dog for something else, but she didn’t have any other Maltese puppies in stock and she didn’t know when more would arrive. And of course, I’d never think of exchanging Bean. I just wanted an explanation.”

  “Which she couldn’t give you.”

  “Right,” said Cassie. “It’s a mystery. But like I said, Brenda gets her dogs from breeders all over the country, so I figured it was an innocent mistake.”

  “Uh-huh.” I didn’t say so, but it sounded to me like Brenda was the opposite of innocent.

  Chapter 26

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  Bean and I did a quick loop around the block. After dropping her off, I ducked into Beastly Bites and spotted the pink flyer immediately. BOUTIQUE BREEDS BY BRENDA was printed across the top in bold black letters. I looked around to make sure no one was watching, then ripped it off the wall and stuffed it in my pocket. After buying some extra poop bags and dog biscuits, I headed out.

  Since I was so anxious to continue investigating, I took Milo and Preston for short walks. And when I finally got home, I found Finn and my parents in the living room.

  “What’s everyone doing here?” I asked.

  “I left the office a bit early but it’s already past six,” said Mom.

  “So sorry,” I said, glancing at my watch for the first time all day. Luckily I was only ten minutes late, and no one seemed to mind so much.

  “Could you set the table for dinner?” asked Dad.

  “Sure, in a minute. I just need to make a quick phone call first.”

  Before I could make it to the cordless, I noticed Finn reading what looked like some sort of invitation.