Paws off the Boss, Casey Griffin [ereader for textbooks TXT] 📗

broken glass. He assessed the reception area, this time from a new angle. Piper didn’t know what was so tough to figure out. Brick fly through window; brick hit fish tank; tank go splash. Seemed simple enough to her.

She knew she wasn’t irritated with him so much as the near head-wound experience. Even now, nerves shook her hands. But so far, Officer Tucker had proved himself less than empathetic or even mildly concerned. Maybe there were more important crimes to solve or wrongdoers to vanquish. He acted like this was the equivalent of hoodlums spray-painting a garbage can. Well, maybe it was. But it was her garbage can.

He took out his phone and typed a few words, probably searching for the nearest coffeehouse for a post-investigation latte. Consulting his notepad again, he wandered back to where she watched from the side.

“So, you didn’t see anyone when it happened? No one you could identify?”

“No,” Piper told him. “Like I said, I was busy studying.” Or staring off into space, imagining what was beneath Aiden’s suit.

He checked his notebook. “And you said you arrived at approximately nine thirty?”

“That’s correct.”

“Did you see anyone when you arrived? Anyone loitering around the building, watching the place? Maybe a car you noticed parked in the lot or on the street?”

“Not that I can remember.” Piper’s skin crawled at the thought of being watched, and she thought of her altercation with Barney Miller. Of course, she’d mentioned his name first to the cop, but she never actually saw the culprit.

She could hear Marilyn in the back, soothing the dogs in that “keep calm and carry on” way of hers. Piper had called her right after she got off the phone with the police. The dedicated manager came right away, concerned for her “guests,” as she called them. She liked to think that they were only staying for a short time before someone came to adopt them.

The bell above the entrance door dinged as someone entered. Piper was trying to read Officer Tucker’s notepad upside down. She figured it was the other cop, so she didn’t turn around.

Then Officer Tucker said, “Sorry, sir. You can’t be in here.”

Piper had been anxiously awaiting the crack CSI team to arrive and bag the evidence, unveil invisible footprints, search for microscopic clues, so when she spun around, he was the last person she expected to see.

“Aiden?”

“You know this man?” Officer Tucker asked.

“It’s all right!” Marilyn called, walking up to the front. She was dragging a piece of cardboard with her. “He’s the owner.”

“The owner,” Piper repeated. “The owner of what?”

“The property. What else? Be a dear and help me with this, won’t you?” Marilyn handed her the cardboard. “We can use it to board up the window once the officers are all finished.”

Piper numbly took the board, gaping at Aiden. “You own this property?” She almost sounded indignant, like they were possibly lying to her.

“Thank you for coming, Mr. Caldwell.” Marilyn shook his hand. “But you needn’t concern yourself at an hour like this.”

“It’s no problem at all. I just thought I’d come by and take a look.”

“Well, how about I make us all a pot of coffee?” Marilyn hurried off to the kitchen.

Once she left, Aiden turned right back to Piper, his expression full of concern and surprise. “I didn’t know you would be here.”

“I come here to study sometimes.”

“Sir,” Officer Tucker interrupted. “May I have your full name for the record, please?”

Both Piper and Aiden spoke at the same time. “Aiden Caldwell.”

Piper’s eyes never left him. She stared at him like he’d claimed to be the king of England. “You’re the new property owner?”

The officer cleared his throat to get attention. “I’d like to ask you a few questions too, Mr. Caldwell. If you have some time.”

“Certainly,” Aiden replied but then refocused on Piper. “That’s why I came to the center in the first place,” he told her. “My company recently bought this land. A few weeks ago, I came to renew the lease and discuss some business with Marilyn. That’s when I met Sophie.”

Officer Tucker’s pen hovered readily over his notepad. “And who’s Sophie?”

“My dog,” Aiden told him, and then to Piper, “If I’d known you were here, I would have come sooner. Were you hurt?”

“No. I’m fine.”

“That’s good.”

“Do you two need a minute?” the officer asked. However, it didn’t sound like he was offering so much as making a point.

“Oh, but the ladies were hurt,” Piper said, suddenly.

“And who are these ladies?” Officer Tucker asked. “Do they require medical attention?”

“Why are the ladies in the coffeepot?” Marilyn called from the kitchen.

The officer’s forehead creased. “The ladies are in the coffeepot?”

“The fish tank broke!” Piper called back. “They’re our goldfish,” she explained to the officer.

“Tea then?” Marilyn sang back.

“Yes, thank you,” Aiden replied.

“Excuse me,” Officer Tucker snapped. “May we continue, please?”

Piper had answered the cop’s questions three times over, and Aiden’s sudden appearance was a lot more interesting at that moment. But Officer Tucker’s tone of voice sobered up the CEO.

“Of course,” Aiden said. “Go ahead.”

“Do either of you know of anyone with a vendetta against the rescue center? Anyone with a grudge? Disgruntled employees?”

Marilyn shuffled out of the small kitchen with a tray of four mismatched mugs and handed them out. “A grudge? Oh, dear. Do you think this was a personal attack?”

“I can’t say conclusively, but considering the note attached to the brick, I would speculate so.”

“Well, there are the neighbors,” she said. “They’ve been complaining about the noise for some time.”

“The noise?”

“We only have a small courtyard in the back, and dachshunds can be noisy for such a small breed, on account of their large lungs, you see. That’s where they get that barrel chest from.” Marilyn stuck out her own chest, mimicking it. “There are a lot of residential buildings surrounding us, and my little guests can make quite the racket during playtime.”

“Any neighbors in particular?”

“It was a whole group of them, I suppose. They petitioned for the city to do something about it. We would build a noise-reduction fence, but they’re rather expensive, and we don’t have the funds.”

As Piper thought about potential suspects, she recalled her run-in with Laura earlier that day. “There’s someone else. A local animal rights activist that belongs to a group called SFAAC.”

“Why would an activist have a problem with a dog shelter?” Officer Tucker asked.

“It’s a personal issue. I had a confrontation with her during a rally in the Presidio today.” Piper relayed the events of that afternoon, remembering Laura’s parting words.

“She threatened you?” he asked. “Did you report this to the police?”

“I didn’t really think anything of it. She’s made plenty of personal threats against me over the last few years. Just figured she was full of it. I’ve lodged previous complaints about her with the police, though.”

“I see.” The officer made another note. “Do you have a restraining order against this person?”

“No.” She scowled. “Not yet, anyway.”

Marilyn frowned, watching the pen scribble across the page. “Do you think Piper should take out a restraining order against this girl? If she’s a suspect, maybe it could be a way to prevent further harassment.”

“I can’t say for sure, ma’am. Unless you know for certain it was her. Don’t worry. I will let you know if you need to take further action,” he assured her.

She didn’t look assured, so Piper reached out and squeezed her shoulder. Marilyn mumbled something about sugar and disappeared into the kitchen again.

The officer jotted a few more notes. “Mr. Caldwell, do you have anything to add?”

“Well, the company is always receiving threats. It wouldn’t be the first time my property has been vandalized simply because of its association with my company.”

“And what company is that?”

“Caldwell and Son Investments.”

Another note. “Can you think of any reason someone would target this property specifically?”

“Well, the recent property sale would have been public record.” He thought for a moment before suddenly turning to Piper. “But what about the briefcase?”

“The one in my taxi?” Piper asked.

“You drive a taxi?” Officer Tucker asked.

“I did. Before it was stolen.”

“With my briefcase inside,” Aiden added. “Which contained the recently signed documents for the property transfer.”

Piper frowned, thinking back to the day before—although it seemed much longer ago. “You think that whoever stole my cab might have done this?”

“Or,” he said, “maybe it wasn’t a coincidence your cab was stolen with my briefcase inside of it.”

Piper wondered if he might be right. Sure, she’d been pushing her luck that day with all three jobs, but she still found it hard to believe she was unlucky enough to have her cab stolen too. Maybe it was his bad luck and not hers.

“But that still doesn’t explain why the car thief would want us to get out of the neighborhood,” she said.

“Was a report filed for this incident?” the cop asked, breaking