Free Doggie Day Care Murder by Laurien Berenson

already was. But still she had to make the offer. What a trooper. What a friend.
    â€œI’m just standing here,” I said.
    That wasn’t strictly true. I was also keeping an eye on Candy. The paramedics were going to be too late to help Steve, but his sister looked like she could probably benefit from their services.
    â€œWhy don’t you wait out front?” I said. Alice looked like she could use some fresh air. “When the police get here, you can show them where to go.”
    Alice disappeared. That left me and Candy alone in the back half of the building. Well—and Steve—but I wasn’t counting him.
    Candy hadn’t moved at all for several minutes. She was making a small mewling sound that seemed to come from deep within her throat.
    Skirting the doorway to Steve’s office as widely as possible, I tiptoed down the hallway to her. “Are you okay?”
    Stupid question under the circumstances, but it was the first thing that came to mind.
    Still mute, she shook her head.
    â€œIs there anything I can do? Someone you want me to call?”
    â€œIs he . . . dead?” she whispered.
    I hadn’t checked. After one look through the open doorway, I hadn’t gone any closer. But something, presumably a bullet, had opened up Steve’s cheek. And then there was the blood. Lots and lots of blood.
    â€œYes,” I said gently. “He’s dead. Do you want to sit down?”
    Candy took me literally. It was as if her bones had suddenly stopped supporting her. Back still braced against the wall, she simply slid down it until she reached the floor.
    I sat down beside her.
    â€œHow did this happen?” she asked.
    â€œI don’t know.”
    â€œSomeone must have broken in. A robber. We don’t keep a lot of money here. What did they want?”
    â€œI don’t know,” I said again. It was the only thing I could think to say.
    Candy lifted stricken eyes to mine. “Last night, last time I saw Steve . . .”
    Saw Steve alive , she meant. Neither one of us needed to say it.
    I nodded.
    â€œHe and I had a fight . . . an argument over something stupid. How terrible is that? And now I’ll never have a chance to fix things. . . .”
    Candy’s slender body began to shake. Then she was alternately sobbing loudly and gasping for breath. I wrapped an arm around her and pulled her close. It was warm in the hallway, but her skin felt cold and clammy against mine.
    Twenty-four hours earlier, we had been strangers. But right now, at least for the moment, I was the closest thing to comfort she had.
    The wait for help to come seemed interminable, but Alice told me later that the first police car arrived in under ten minutes. It was followed shortly by an ambulance. Moments after that, the building was swarming with activity.
    I handed Candy off to a sympathetic EMT and joined Alice out in front of the building. The people who handled this type of thing for a living had arrived. They would know what to do. Our part in the calamity had ended.
    â€œMa’am?” An officer came running out of the office after me. “I’m going to need to get your information. And could you wait here until the detectives arrive? They’re going to want to ask you some questions.”
    â€œI don’t know anything,” I said.
    â€œWe still need to talk to you.”
    The officer took out a pad and wrote down Alice’s and my names, addresses, and phone numbers. Then we went and sat in Alice’s car and waited some more.
    I called Sam and told him I’d been held up. There was no point in going into details over the phone. Later, after I’d put some distance between myself and everything that had happened, it would be easier to talk about.
    Authorities continued to arrive. Marked and unmarked police cars pulled in next to ours, followed by a coroner’s van.
    â€œI know things like this have happened to you before.” Alice