next-door-neighbor’s yard, pulled out a key, and unlocked the front door.
“And I can’t keep imposing on my nephew to do it,” she said, raising her voice. “He’s got much more important things on his mind.”
Hearing her voice, a little white ball of fluff charged toward them.
Instinctively, Jane knelt to greet the dog.
The Maltese, festooned with pink bows, leapt into her arms and began to lick her face.
“It would appear that Marshmallow likes you,” Ruby declared.
“Marshmallow?” Jane twisted her head back so that she could speak without ending up with the dog’s tongue in her mouth. “Your nephew is Tom?”
“Unless I decide to disown him.” She eyed Jane curiously. “You know him?”
Putting the dog down, Jane got to her feet. “We’ve met. Because of Marshmallow in fact.”
“Now that’s interesting. Very interesting,” Ruby murmured.
Jane wondered what had brought the sudden smile to the older woman’s lips.
“So you’ll take the job?”
“You haven’t told me what you want me to do.”
“Walk her, play with her, feed her.”
“How many times per day?’
Ruby cocked her head to the side, thinking. “How often do you do most dogs in the neighborhood?”
“Two or three times a day.”
“Let’s make it three,” Ruby declared with a smile.
Jane did some quick calculations regarding her schedule. “How would around nine, around one, and around six work?”
“Whatever you say, my dear.” Ruby grinned, a mischievous twinkle dancing in her eyes. She pressed the key into Jane’s hand. “I’ve got to run. Why don’t you take some time and show yourself around?”
With that and a quick pat to Marshmallow’s head, Ruby left.
Jane scooped by the cheery, wriggling Maltese and snuggled her for a minute, and then locked the front door. Safety 101 was to never leave a door unlocked behind her. Someone creepy like Graham the handyman might wander in after her.
Putting Marshmallow down, she surveyed the foyer, noting the collection of antique silver spoons hanging in a case on one her right. She sniffed the air. It was stale. No wonder the poor dog enjoyed her walks so much.
“Okay, Marshmallow,” Jane said, staring into her adorable eyes, “show me where the good stuff’s hidden.”
“You didn’t tell me you know that girl,” Ruby said, bustling into her dining room where Tom had set up his surveillance equipment.
Instead of answering, Tom scowled.
“If you’ve met her, you must know she’s not your thief,” Ruby continued, undeterred by his silence or dark mood. “So why this elaborate set-up?”
Tom concentrated on the monitor, watching Jane’s progress through Mrs. Ciafonne’s home on the cameras he’d set up after he’d convinced his aunt to help him catch the neighborhood burglar.
To his surprise, or relief, she hadn’t made a beeline for the bedrooms where valuables might be stored. Instead, she wandered through the house, taking time to play with the dog, in search of the kitchen.
“Thomas,” Ruby said sharply, “you haven’t answered me.”
“She’s had access to all the houses and no one thinks twice about her walking in and out of them.”
“But you’ve met her,” Ruby countered as though that alone was reason enough for Tom to know Jane was innocent.
“She’s got motive. She’s desperate to open a Doggie Daycare.” As he imparted that nugget of information to his aunt, he watched Jane begin to systematically go through the kitchen cupboards.
“You can’t fault the young woman for having a dream.”
Tom glanced up at his aunt, who was observing him intently. “I don’t. But knowing that her ex-boyfriend stole her savings does give me reason to think she may have a better motive than others. Plus, it’s been pointed out that these thefts began not long after Jane got her start in this neighborhood.”
Ruby pursed her lips disapprovingly. “By who? That other dog walker? The most disagreeable woman
“And I can’t keep imposing on my nephew to do it,” she said, raising her voice. “He’s got much more important things on his mind.”
Hearing her voice, a little white ball of fluff charged toward them.
Instinctively, Jane knelt to greet the dog.
The Maltese, festooned with pink bows, leapt into her arms and began to lick her face.
“It would appear that Marshmallow likes you,” Ruby declared.
“Marshmallow?” Jane twisted her head back so that she could speak without ending up with the dog’s tongue in her mouth. “Your nephew is Tom?”
“Unless I decide to disown him.” She eyed Jane curiously. “You know him?”
Putting the dog down, Jane got to her feet. “We’ve met. Because of Marshmallow in fact.”
“Now that’s interesting. Very interesting,” Ruby murmured.
Jane wondered what had brought the sudden smile to the older woman’s lips.
“So you’ll take the job?”
“You haven’t told me what you want me to do.”
“Walk her, play with her, feed her.”
“How many times per day?’
Ruby cocked her head to the side, thinking. “How often do you do most dogs in the neighborhood?”
“Two or three times a day.”
“Let’s make it three,” Ruby declared with a smile.
Jane did some quick calculations regarding her schedule. “How would around nine, around one, and around six work?”
“Whatever you say, my dear.” Ruby grinned, a mischievous twinkle dancing in her eyes. She pressed the key into Jane’s hand. “I’ve got to run. Why don’t you take some time and show yourself around?”
With that and a quick pat to Marshmallow’s head, Ruby left.
Jane scooped by the cheery, wriggling Maltese and snuggled her for a minute, and then locked the front door. Safety 101 was to never leave a door unlocked behind her. Someone creepy like Graham the handyman might wander in after her.
Putting Marshmallow down, she surveyed the foyer, noting the collection of antique silver spoons hanging in a case on one her right. She sniffed the air. It was stale. No wonder the poor dog enjoyed her walks so much.
“Okay, Marshmallow,” Jane said, staring into her adorable eyes, “show me where the good stuff’s hidden.”
“You didn’t tell me you know that girl,” Ruby said, bustling into her dining room where Tom had set up his surveillance equipment.
Instead of answering, Tom scowled.
“If you’ve met her, you must know she’s not your thief,” Ruby continued, undeterred by his silence or dark mood. “So why this elaborate set-up?”
Tom concentrated on the monitor, watching Jane’s progress through Mrs. Ciafonne’s home on the cameras he’d set up after he’d convinced his aunt to help him catch the neighborhood burglar.
To his surprise, or relief, she hadn’t made a beeline for the bedrooms where valuables might be stored. Instead, she wandered through the house, taking time to play with the dog, in search of the kitchen.
“Thomas,” Ruby said sharply, “you haven’t answered me.”
“She’s had access to all the houses and no one thinks twice about her walking in and out of them.”
“But you’ve met her,” Ruby countered as though that alone was reason enough for Tom to know Jane was innocent.
“She’s got motive. She’s desperate to open a Doggie Daycare.” As he imparted that nugget of information to his aunt, he watched Jane begin to systematically go through the kitchen cupboards.
“You can’t fault the young woman for having a dream.”
Tom glanced up at his aunt, who was observing him intently. “I don’t. But knowing that her ex-boyfriend stole her savings does give me reason to think she may have a better motive than others. Plus, it’s been pointed out that these thefts began not long after Jane got her start in this neighborhood.”
Ruby pursed her lips disapprovingly. “By who? That other dog walker? The most disagreeable woman
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