The Telltale Turtle (The Pet Psychic Mysteries) (8 page)

Charlie talked about the couple as they drove toward the house. The husband was a successful stockbroker with little time for his wife. The wife spent her time spending his money and getting a tan. Something had made the husband suspicious and he'd wanted to know if she was cheating. He wouldn't give any other details to be sure Charlie did his job.

"If she's cheating," he concluded, "she's really careful about it. I haven't seen her within ten feet of another man for the last six months. But she's in and out of that spa all the time. I think he might work there. I've checked out the staff. Tom Wilson, the spa owner, seems like my best lead so far. If the poodle's heard anything about Wilson, or any other name, that would be helpful."

"I'll do what I can."

As plans went, it worked fairly well. They pulled up close to the impressive iron fence and Mary Catherine jumped out to see what she could get from the dog. It was a large, black, standard poodle, probably about fifty or sixty pounds.

Luckily, it had stopped raining just before they got there. A light haze hung over the area, imprinting the air with the strong scent of the sea.

"Get anything yet?"

"Not yet." She was too busy thinking about how damp and uncomfortable she was to wonder what the poodle was thinking.

Baylor, on the other hand, was asking why she was standing in the rain, talking to a dog. Mary Catherine tried to explain, but the cat fluffed up his tail and hissed at the poodle, who barked back at him.

"What was that?" Charlie asked. "Did you get that?"

"That was ego. Two animals used to being dominant in their households warning each other off. Nothing more, I'm afraid." "

"Did you question the dog?"

I tried. But I need to get on his wavelength first. I have to know how he thinks."

There was nothing from the poodle but thoughts about how handsome and exceptional he was. He cocked his head when she questioned him a little about his life. He made it clear right away that he resented the intrusion into his private thoughts.

"He's going to be difficult," she told Charlie coming back to the truck. "I don't know if he ever thinks in terms of anything except what affects him."

"Maybe you could play on that. Maybe this impacted him in some way.

"I'll try." She sighed, already fed up with the animal. Most animals were self-centered but this one was exceptionally so. He couldn't seem to think of anything but what he was going to eat (it was never enough, never as good as he wanted it to be) and what color his nails were going to be painted.

"Hey!" a woman yelled as she ran out to see what was going on. "Are you trying to hurt my dog?"

Tommy cried out as he pushed himself against the side of the box that held him until he finally flipped over on his back and lay there helpless.

"What is it?" Mary Catherine reached through the open window, hearing the scratching in the container. She turned him over and looked into his tiny face.

The turtle repeated over and over again that he knew that voice, while the poodle barked, demanding attention. He knew that voice.

Hi Mary Catherine!

My name is Joe and I have a parrot named Jinks. He can look at pictures in magazines and tell me what he sees. And he's right more often than he's wrong. He saw a picture of a dog and made barking noises. He saw a picture of a couple hugging and asked me for a hug. He frequently copies things he sees on television. He saw a man get cookies from the cabinet and flew in there, demanding cookies.

Do you think he's gifted?

"I ASKED YOU A question," the woman inside the fence with the poodle reminded her. "I'm gonna call the police. What were you trying to do to my dog?"

Mary Catherine ignored her, trying to concentrate on what Tommy was trying to tell her. "You know her?"

Tommy was too terrified to respond. He kept flipping his tiny body over and trying to get out of the box. She could tell he believed the woman was a threat.

She looked at Charlie, not sure what to tell him. She wasn't sure she could trust him and didn't want him to realize the case he was investigating might be involved with Ferndelle's death.

She apologized to Tommy as she lifted him from the box, but she had to be sure he was right about the other woman. The turtle reacted immediately. There was no question in her mind that he recognized the woman on the other side of the fence. Animals were very specific about humans. Tommy not only recognized the woman, but said she was there when Ferndelle was killed.

Mary Catherine was stunned, but managed to recover when the woman demanded again to know what she was doing. "I'm sorry. I thought your dog was trying to get out of the fence. That happens to me all the time and I wanted to save you the bother."

"That's very nice of you." The other woman still sounded suspicious. "Don't I know you from somewhere?"

"I'm Mary Catherine Roberts, the Pet Psychic." She put out her wet hand.

"Okay." The tanned woman in the red tank top and shorts reached across the fence and shook it. "I know you! I listen to your show all the time! This makes sense now. Who else would stop during a thunderstorm to save someone's dog? I'm Charlene Tate. It's a pleasure to meet you."

"I'm pleased to meet you too. You have a lovely dog. His name is Jacques, right?"

Charlene giggled. "That's right! You really are psychic! I was just telling Colin-"

"Yes?"

"Oh, nothing." Charlene recovered her mistake. "Thanks for stopping. I'm really glad I got to meet you"

Mary Catherine got back in the truck and pushed her hair out of her face. She didn't need an animal for this one. Charlene had given it away by herself. Of course, Tommy's insistence that the woman was on hand when Ferndelle was killed didn't sound good for Colin.

"Did you get anything from the poodle or the woman?" Charlie pulled the Suburban into the street. "I couldn't hear what she was saying."

"The dog was only passing thoughts about his food and his grooming. Some dogs are like that. They don't think much beyond themselves. If his owner had been killed, it might be different."

Charlie watched the turtle continue to flip over in the box. "What's up with him? Is he afraid of the dog? What about Charlene? What did she say?"

Mary Catherine didn't respond. She had to throw him off. Maybe he needed information about Charlene's indiscretion but she had more important things on her mind. She didn't plan to allow Charlie to ask too many questions until she had answers to what had happened when Ferndelle was killed.

"You know something," he accused.

"I know her name is Charlene Tate."

"You know her name? You really can talk to animals. I didn't tell you her name, did I? I was careful to keep that from you. I don't know any other way you could've known. Her name isn't on the mailbox. How did you know?"

Mary Catherine clicked her seat belt in place. She could've told him the conventional truth, but she was enjoying his amazement. "You're babbling, Charlie. You already knew I talk to animals. Why are you so surprised?"

"It's one thing to think it could be true. It's another thing to know it's true."

"I'm sorry. He didn't have much to say except his owner's name. As I explained, you don't always get the answers you want from animals. Charlene thought we were trying to steal Jacques, the poodle."

"Maybe not, but this opens a whole new realm of possibilities. You could talk to animals that have seen bank robberies and col lect the reward for telling the FBI where to find the people responsible. You could collect rewards for missing jewelry or Brinks trucks."

"I've never considered doing anything like that." She hated to disillusion him, but she'd never stoop low enough to ask animals to help her collect rewards.

"I know it wouldn't work in every case," Charlie continued. "There wouldn't always be an animal that saw what happened. But there could be some kind of animal in a lot of cases. What about mice and rats? Do you talk to spiders and flies?"

"You're getting carried away. I don't talk to insects. They seem to have a different brain function that I can't understand."

"We could go into business together. It would be a great collaboration. We could make some serious money in finder fees"

This conversation was going nowhere, as far as Mary Catherine was concerned. "I think we'll forget about lunch. It's getting late. I need to go home."

Baylor was happy to hear she'd finally come to her senses about Charlie. He couldn't understand her fascination with him. He didn't even have great fur.

Something in the tone of her voice finally penetrated Charlie's ravings. "Sorry. I didn't mean to get carried away."

"Carried away?" She shook her head. "You're way past that. We're talking being swept out to sea by a tidal wave now. I want to go home."

"Let's talk. Let me buy you lunch. It's the least I can do. I'm sorry if I spouted off. I'm just amazed at what you can do."

"You mean you're amazed by the possibilities of what you can do with what I can do."

"I've never met a real psychic. I've known a few fakes who claimed to be psychic. It kind of blew me away. But I'm okay now. I won't mention it again. I know a great little seafood place in Wrightsville Beach."

"I'm vegetarian, for obvious reasons." "

I have a cousin who's vegetarian. He eats fish and chicken."

She sighed and rested her head on her hand. "Just take me home, please."

"Okay. That was wrong too. Of course you don't eat anything you can talk to. That makes sense. What about salad? You eat veggies, right? I know a good salad bar. We could go there."

Baylor warned that Charlie was trying to kidnap her. Mary Catherine told him she would handle the situation. "I'm tired and wet, and I've lost my shoe," she said to Charlie. "I want to go home. We can talk later."

Charlie looked at her. "Are you sure? I have a lot of ideas. I think one or two of them could work. Think about your clinic. You could use the extra money to help all the animals."

She was happy to see that, despite his rambling, Charlie had brought her home. As soon as the SUV stopped, she got out, grabbed Tommy, and all but ran for her front door. Baylor trotted quickly behind her, turning back to hiss at Charlie.

"I'll call you," Charlie yelled out, unable to park with all the cars in front of the clinic. "This is going to be fantastic!"

With the door closed behind her, Mary Catherine leaned against it and closed her eyes. She opened them to find jenny staring at her. "I can't explain right now. But if a man who looks like Jimmy Stewart comes in after me, call the police."

She went up the stairs to her apartment, leaving the vet frowning. "You should be so lucky," Jenny shouted up at her.

Mary Catherine showered and changed into a flowing, apricotcolored caftan. She dried her hair, but hid it beneath a flowered turban when she saw it was frizzy. She made a face at herself in the mirror as she put on some eye makeup and a little lipstick. "There. Right as rain."

Baylor, who'd watched her grooming process, disagreed. She never took enough time, according to him. Good grooming took hours and many times required a nap in the sun before finishing.

"That's good for you, since you don't do much of anything else." She opened the door to go back downstairs. "Humans can't lie around all day."

The cat expressed his opinion: no wonder humans never look as good as cats.

She was about to answer when Bruno started barking downstairs. His loud bellowing echoed through the building. One of the birds they'd rescued, a toucan named Fred, seemed to be answering the dog's message with one of his own. Jenny was yelling as well. Distracted by the ruckus, Mary Catherine hurried down to see what was wrong.

An older man, dressed in threadbare jeans and a faded flannel shirt, was leading a goat on a rope. He was explaining his situation to Jenny as she tried to quiet the other animals.

Mary Catherine caught part of Bruno's frantic message. Apparently the dog had never seen a goat before and likened it to seeing an alien from another planet. She assured him the goat was from the same world, but Fred wouldn't be pacified. He claimed to have a prior experience with a goat that wasn't very pleasant.