the Davenport, she again passed Rudy’s and Bitsy’s leads to Randall and made quick work of returning her charges to their homes. “Thanks,” she told the doorman when she returned to claim the pups. “I figured you’d understand.”
“Of course,” he said, his expression Yoda-like. “You didn’t want Miss Bitsy to be reminded of her master. Mr. Chesney is still up there, you know.”
“Did he tell you his sister was flying in today to oversee damage control?”
Randall tipped his hat to a tenant and reached under the counter. “Here you are, Ms. Shelton,” he said, handing her a package with a Bergdorf logo.
Ellie remembered the pencil-thin woman from yesterday. She seemed to be the leader of the group of troublemakers who’d argued with Kronk when he asked for IDs before allowing people into the building.
Ms. Shelton nodded her thanks, then gazed at the pups with a sneer etched on her snooty face. “Isn’t that the dog owned by that—that pervert?”
“If you mean Rob Chesney, then yes,” answered Randall.
She gazed at Ellie. “And you’re his dog walker.”
The tone in her voice made Ellie sound like a criminal. “I am. Do you need someone to take care of your pet?” She grinned when the woman’s expression segued to one of horror. “My rates are reasonable. Just ask Rob.”
“Me? Own a dog?” Ms. Shelton shook her head and her fall of straight blond hair swung rigidly across her pashmina-clad shoulders. “I should say not. Filthy creatures.” She tapped the counter with a manicured nail and returned her focus to Randall. “I take it you gave management our demand?”
“It’s taken care of,” he assured her.
“Then we should hear something soon.” Ms. Shelton stomped to the elevator on her four-inch Manolos and stepped inside.
“Demand? What demand?” Ellie asked when the door closed.
Randall heaved a sigh. “It’s something I was hoping you wouldn’t hear about. A group of tenants signed a petition and asked me to hand-deliver it to the consortium that manages this complex. It’s about Mr. Chesney.”
She lowered her voice. “What do they want to do with Rob?”
“They want him evicted, of course. Claim a person of his ilk isn’t welcome in their building. They’re also annoyed over the way Kronk handled the security check after the murder. They claim he treated them badly, and they tried to blame that on Mr. Chesney, too.”
Ellie’s mouth dropped open in shock. “That’s ridiculous. I was here, and Kronk only did what management ordered him to do. You know Kronk. He’s not the most tactful guy in a difficult situation, but I thought he did an okay job.”
“Boris Kronkovitz has no tact in any situation,” Randall said, frowning. “But I was very careful to go over the handling of the tenants with him when I left for the night. I think they’re merely using him as an excuse to see Mr. Chesney out.”
“Great. Just what Rob needs.”
“I agree.” He rested an elbow on the counter. “But I’m sure it will take some time for management to make a decision. If you come up with something that might delay his removal, let me know and I’ll pass it along.”
Ellie, Bitsy, and Rudy left and walked north to their next stop, a building that was smaller and less ostentatious than most on the Upper East Side. Because there were only five dogs on her list, the run was usually quick and uneventful.
It was only after she arrived to pick up Pooh and Tigger that she began to worry. Sara Studebaker, a woman near Ellie’s age, lived here with two adorable West Highland White Terriers, the same breed as Sweetie Pie. She and Sara sometimes held conversations about their dogs or whatever was going on in their lives. She knocked, let herself in, and found it odd that Sara wasn’t there to say hello. Stranger still was the fact that Pooh and Tigger were missing.
She called the dogs’ names, then Sara’s, and got no answer. Concerned, she walked down the center
“Of course,” he said, his expression Yoda-like. “You didn’t want Miss Bitsy to be reminded of her master. Mr. Chesney is still up there, you know.”
“Did he tell you his sister was flying in today to oversee damage control?”
Randall tipped his hat to a tenant and reached under the counter. “Here you are, Ms. Shelton,” he said, handing her a package with a Bergdorf logo.
Ellie remembered the pencil-thin woman from yesterday. She seemed to be the leader of the group of troublemakers who’d argued with Kronk when he asked for IDs before allowing people into the building.
Ms. Shelton nodded her thanks, then gazed at the pups with a sneer etched on her snooty face. “Isn’t that the dog owned by that—that pervert?”
“If you mean Rob Chesney, then yes,” answered Randall.
She gazed at Ellie. “And you’re his dog walker.”
The tone in her voice made Ellie sound like a criminal. “I am. Do you need someone to take care of your pet?” She grinned when the woman’s expression segued to one of horror. “My rates are reasonable. Just ask Rob.”
“Me? Own a dog?” Ms. Shelton shook her head and her fall of straight blond hair swung rigidly across her pashmina-clad shoulders. “I should say not. Filthy creatures.” She tapped the counter with a manicured nail and returned her focus to Randall. “I take it you gave management our demand?”
“It’s taken care of,” he assured her.
“Then we should hear something soon.” Ms. Shelton stomped to the elevator on her four-inch Manolos and stepped inside.
“Demand? What demand?” Ellie asked when the door closed.
Randall heaved a sigh. “It’s something I was hoping you wouldn’t hear about. A group of tenants signed a petition and asked me to hand-deliver it to the consortium that manages this complex. It’s about Mr. Chesney.”
She lowered her voice. “What do they want to do with Rob?”
“They want him evicted, of course. Claim a person of his ilk isn’t welcome in their building. They’re also annoyed over the way Kronk handled the security check after the murder. They claim he treated them badly, and they tried to blame that on Mr. Chesney, too.”
Ellie’s mouth dropped open in shock. “That’s ridiculous. I was here, and Kronk only did what management ordered him to do. You know Kronk. He’s not the most tactful guy in a difficult situation, but I thought he did an okay job.”
“Boris Kronkovitz has no tact in any situation,” Randall said, frowning. “But I was very careful to go over the handling of the tenants with him when I left for the night. I think they’re merely using him as an excuse to see Mr. Chesney out.”
“Great. Just what Rob needs.”
“I agree.” He rested an elbow on the counter. “But I’m sure it will take some time for management to make a decision. If you come up with something that might delay his removal, let me know and I’ll pass it along.”
Ellie, Bitsy, and Rudy left and walked north to their next stop, a building that was smaller and less ostentatious than most on the Upper East Side. Because there were only five dogs on her list, the run was usually quick and uneventful.
It was only after she arrived to pick up Pooh and Tigger that she began to worry. Sara Studebaker, a woman near Ellie’s age, lived here with two adorable West Highland White Terriers, the same breed as Sweetie Pie. She and Sara sometimes held conversations about their dogs or whatever was going on in their lives. She knocked, let herself in, and found it odd that Sara wasn’t there to say hello. Stranger still was the fact that Pooh and Tigger were missing.
She called the dogs’ names, then Sara’s, and got no answer. Concerned, she walked down the center
Similar Books
