Beaglemania by Linda O. Johnston

possibly in the back. The cops found me with him and assumed I’d been the one to stab him.”
    “But you didn’t, of course.”
    “I didn’t. I had a motive, though.”
    Mona nodded. “His threats. If the cops look at that as the motive, though, it would fit everyone here. The animals, too.”
    I returned her smile. “You going to tell them that?”
    She sobered immediately. “Probably. I’m scheduled to talk to a detective. He’s meeting me at my office, and I’m already running late. Oh, well.” She didn’t sound at all repentant.
    “Is his name Garciana?”
    She nodded.
    “I take it you didn’t sneak in here in the middle of the night and stab that miserable excuse for a human being, did you? If you admit it to Garciana, you’ll get me off the hook.”
    “Even if I did it, I’d never admit it, Lauren. Not even to save you.”
    We were both joking. Darkest humor.
    Even so, someone had done it. Right now, everyone I knew who was connected at all to Efram was a suspect, no matter who the cops leaned on.
     
     
    “Some detective has been calling you,” Bev told me when I returned to my office.
    “Garciana?”
    “Yes,” she confirmed.
    I reached into the pocket of my jeans for a card I’d gotten from Kendra at lunch. It had information on the lawyer she had suggested I contact if I needed guidance in dealing with Efram’s murder investigation. I glanced at it. The name was Esther Ickes.
    “Thanks,” I told Bev. At my desk, I called Esther right away. She was in her office and told me that Kendra had given her a heads-up that I might be in touch.
    “I’d suggest that we meet, maybe . . . How’s one o’clock Monday afternoon?” It was Saturday now.
    “Fine, unless I have to speak before that with the detective who’s been calling me. The one who asked me questions last night, when I found Efram’s body, left me a message.”
    “Don’t talk to him any more without my being with you,” Esther cautioned. “Go ahead and return his call, but let him know you’re now represented by counsel.”
    “So I’ve ‘lawyered up’?”
    Esther sounded both amused and kind. “That’s right.”
     
     
    I’d have stayed at HotRescues that night if it had been in the best interests of our animals, no matter what had happened there with Efram.
    But I’d been in touch with our security company. Though they’d done a crappy job last night, allowing Efram to get in—and his killer, too—and not staying in touch with me as they should have, they were still under contract with HotRescues. Without admitting any responsibility, they had checked out our on-site cameras and offered to send even more patrols to the area that night.
    Plus, I figured the cops would still have a presence in the area.
    Before I left, Pete Engersol and I went through the facility enclosure by enclosure, making sure everything was clean and secure, that every animal’s records indicated they’d eaten when they were supposed to, and that they all had plenty of water. Then I’d walked through again and headed home.
    My place was in Porter Ranch, not far from the Granada Hills location of HotRescues. It was a pleasant house in a gated community, a good place to have brought up my kids. I knew my neighbors, at least to wave to and to give treats to their pets as they went for walks in front of my house when I happened to be home during the day. That was now a rarity, especially since my kids were both away at college.
    I’d had pets at home before, when the kids were younger—dogs, hamsters, cats. The last, a Boston terrier that Tracy had especially loved, had died six months ago. I’d been here alone then. Grieved deeply over poor Bosley. Hadn’t wanted to grieve again that way, so although I’d considered adopting a pet from HotRescues, I’d not done so. I had definitely empathized with the people who’d adopted Elmer that day, though.
    Tonight, alone here after all that had happened, was the first time I really regretted