Free Chihuahua of the Baskervilles by Esri Allbritten

loss, and fussed over a dog together, but now Thomas seemed determined to undermine his wife’s success, even if it meant ruining a business that benefited him.
    Looked at that way, anyone who profited from Petey’s Closet would want Charlotte to divorce Thomas. Presumably she wouldn’t have listened to Ellen, Cheri, or Ivan, but she was certainly listening to Petey.
    Michael wondered how Angus was doing at the Baskerville house.
    *   *   *
    Angus rolled over carefully. The cot Charlotte had provided was not big, but at least it had a thin pad. Still, whichever shoulder he lay on ached after a while.
    Angus had couched his offer to spend the night in terms of ghost watching, and Charlotte Baskerville had accepted eagerly. He even had his little digital camera, in case the ghost decided to show itself.
    After a quick trip to the motel, he’d returned with the essentials: toothbrush and paste, razor, and a change of clothes. Now he lay on the cot in plaid boxers and a white T-shirt, wide awake.
    He had managed to sleep for a little while, but had woken when he heard heavy, irregular footsteps in the hall. He opened his door a crack. The hall light was off, but he could still see Ivan walk carefully to his room, one hand on the wall.
    That had been shortly after one o’clock. No sooner had he gone back to his cot than he’d heard a door open somewhere in the hall, and then the sound of someone quietly knocking on a door. Peeking out again, he saw Cheri standing outside Ivan’s room, a robe wrapped around her.
    She tapped again, and the door opened. Cheri murmured something and slipped inside Ivan’s room with a giggle. Angus waited until it became obvious that Cheri wasn’t coming out immediately. Then he tiptoed quietly into the hall and put his ear to Ivan’s door.
    He heard the sound of voices—Ivan’s low and ponderous, Cheri’s light, with lots of laughing. Was that the clink of bottle and glass? He pressed his ear closer but the heavy wood let no more sound out.
    Finally he went back to his room and lay on his back for a change. He was just starting to get drowsy when he heard a door open again. He rose quickly, took two large steps across the room, and went into the hall.
    Cheri closed Ivan’s door carefully, then turned and saw Angus. “What are you doing up?” she asked, her expression pouty.
    “Bathroom.” He took a few steps toward Charlotte’s end of the hall. It was the opposite direction from the guest bathroom, but put him directly in Cheri’s path to her bedroom. She took a few steps toward him. Was she weaving?
    “Other way,” she whispered, pointing back toward the stairs.
    “Sorry, what?” Angus whispered. He put a hand to one ear and bent over.
    She obligingly stepped closer. “You’re going the wrong way . It’s there.” She pointed again.
    Angus sniffed. “That’s quite the strawberry breath you have.” Was it covering something, like vodka?
    “It’s my toothpaste. Good night, Mr. Ghost Man.” She giggled.
    “Good night.” He walked the correct way down the hall, glancing back briefly. Cheri opened her door with no sign of difficulty, and her steps didn’t seem unsteady.
    With a sigh, Angus went into the bathroom, switched on the light, and closed the door. One side of the counter held someone’s personal toiletries, and he remembered that the guest bathroom was also Ellen’s.
    As he took a leak, he thought about mousy Ellen. She seemed to be lowest on the totem pole, always opening doors and showing people around, yet Petey’s Closet was built on her designs.
    That wasn’t strictly true. It was built on Ellen’s designs plus Charlotte’s networking, marketing know-how, and money. Presumably they were partners. Ellen was simply the kind of person who opened doors and fetched things, whereas Charlotte was not.
    Angus flushed the toilet, then opened the door and checked the distance to his room before turning off the light. Second door along.
    He switched off