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Rowdy knew this was Margaret Sneed Wanton-Klapper, from the top of her expertly styled blond hair to her dramatic red pantsuit. At first glance she seemed to be as pretentious as her name and Rowdy took an immediate dislike to her. In general, he tended to give everyone a chance, but she might be the exception.
“Are you interrogating my daughter?” Her blue eyes flashed with anger, and he felt like she was looking for something to be mad about.
Rowdy gave her a crooked, disarming smile. “No, ma’am. Just making conversation while I drink my juice.” He picked up the glass, pointedly, and took a sip.
Margaret looked at her daughter. “Cora, isn’t there a class you’re late for, or something?”
“We’re on Christmas break, remember?” Cora rolled her eyes at the woman’s glare, and glanced back at Rowdy. Then she picked up her glass of juice and shuffled out of the kitchen.
As soon as Cora was gone, Margaret Sneed Wanna-Klap-her— Rowdy smirked at the internal thought— turned back to him. “What’s this about?”
“Mrs. Dodd’s little dog Cookie is missing.”
The woman snorted. “I’m well aware. Georgette’s assistant called me whining about it. The little bastard was always barking like an obnoxious twit, so I’m not surprised he’s gone. I sent Mrs. Dodd an estimate three days ago for a solid six-foot fence. Since it’s her dog being the nuisance, I expect her to pay half of the cost.”
Rowdy’s brows twitched and he had to consciously not laugh. “If you’re the one bothered, shouldn’t it be your expense?”
The woman waved a hand. “That’s not what my lawyer says. There’s some kind of ‘gentleman’s agreement’ when it comes to shared fence.”
Hm. Maybe she needed a new lawyer. Rowdy knew what she was talking about, but it was an agreement between farmers with livestock to share the cost of fence maintenance. That wasn’t his place to advise, though. “So, you haven’t seen him?”
Margaret flicked a freshly manicured hand. “I just hear his constant yapping. Now that you mention it, though, it has been a little quieter. Good. Maybe he’ll stay gone.”
“You wrote Mrs. Dodd a pretty harsh email last year.”
Margaret rolled her eyes and planted a hand on her slim hip. “I did. She had no business blocking our street that way. I sat in my car for two hours and it didn’t matter who I complained to. All these people showed up for her little gala to prove how benevolent they are, and they didn’t care that they were inconveniencing others.”
Wow. What a royal bitch. He made sure none of what he was thinking showed on his face. “Well, I don’t think it was anyone’s fault. The valet company didn’t show up. I assure you, this year things will be run differently.”
One corner of Margaret’s lips turned up, and there was definitely an edge of maliciousness to it. “If that dog is missing, her pride and joy, the gala may not even happen. And I would be fine with that.”
Hm. Wasn’t that an interesting observation for her to make. “Do you mind if I look in your backyard? Since you have an adjoining fence, I just want to make sure he didn’t try to slip through somewhere.”
She waved a negligent hand. “Break a leg,” she murmured. And he wondered if she didn’t mean that literally. Had she seen him limping up to the front door and had to make a dig? She seemed the type.
“Thank you,” he said simply. “If I see anything, I’ll let you know.”
“Don’t bother. I’m going out for lunch. Greta will show you out when you’re done.”
The housekeeper showed up out of nowhere, like she’d been waiting just beyond the doorjamb for Mrs. Wanton-Klapper to call her. “If you’ll follow me,” the woman said softly.
Rowdy downed the rest of his juice and followed the older woman through a back sunroom, then to a door. “You can come back in this way.”
Rowdy stepped out into the back yard. It was as manicured as Mrs. Dodd’s, but it seemed less welcoming. Granted, it was almost Christmas and all of the flowers had gone dormant, for the most part. There were lights strung along the front of the house, but none on the back. Everyone else had done some decorating for the holidays, but the Wanton-Klapper house didn’t seem especially joyful.
He thought about the teenager, Cora. She’d seemed depressed, and he had to admit, if he lived here with that woman, he’d be depressed as well. He felt like she had some information.
Rowdy walked the perimeter of the yard, looking for anything out of the ordinary. He especially checked the base of the fence, but he didn’t see anything worth noting. There were cameras on the house, and one pointed somewhat conspicuously into the Dodd’s back yard. Rowdy had a feeling Margaret wouldn’t follow through with the fence because she wouldn’t be able to snoop if she did.
When he let himself inside the house, the housekeeper was unloading the dishwasher. She wiped her hands and started to lead him out of the kitchen, but Rowdy held up a hand. “Mind if I ask you a few questions?”
The woman’s gaze flicked to the hallway, but she shook her head, then pulled her sweater tighter around herself. “No, sir.”
Rowdy shook his head. “You can just call me Rowdy. Mind if I call you Greta?”
She nodded once.
“There are cameras on the back of the house, and one pointed toward the Dodd’s back yard. Do you have access to those?”