Rachel Alexander 03 - A Hell of a Dog

don’t go in without me.” He took my face in both hands and kissed me hard and fast on the mouth, then headed down the stairs. I headed up.
    Sky barked even before I knocked. I could hear Cathy telling him, “Leave it.” A moment later she was standing in the doorway in her unbleached, organic nightshirt, her eyes red and puffy, a disappointed look on her face.
    “It’s only me,” I said, wondering if I should break her heart the rest of the way before I asked my questions or after. “Can I come in?”
    Five minutes later I was across the hall, and Chip was slipping the passkey into the lock on Martyn’s door.
    “Don’t touch anything,” I said. “Just stand here in the doorway with me.”
    “What are we looking for?”
    “An open window.”
    “It’s closed,” he whispered.
    “Why are you whispering?”
    “It seemed appropriate.”
    “I didn’t think this is where it happened. I just wanted to make sure before the police get here and seal off the room. And one more thing,” I said, bending down and looking under the neatly made bed. “Okay, we can go.”
    “What were you looking for under the bed, the traditional prowler?”
    “Keep your day job,” I told him. “A tennis ball. A scented one.”
    “Sky’s? You mean Cathy was with him?”
    “Yes, but not this morning. Still, if the cops found Sky’s ball in there, they’d put her through hell.”
    “Okay, so Cathy had a thing with Martyn, is that what you’re saying? And then what? He—”
    “Don’t even say it. No matter what this looks like, you know Martyn didn’t do this himself.”
    “But you don’t think Cathy—”
    “No, but the only one I know didn’t do it is you.”
    “You don’t know that. You fell asleep in the bathtub, remember? I could have slipped out.”
    He was right. He could have.
    What did I know about this man, anyway? Had I ever seen him take out the garbage or scramble eggs? Did I know if he hung up his clothes or threw them over the dresser for the wife to hang up, the way Jack had? Or if he had to have his dinner on the table the second he walked in the door the way my brother-in-law did, tap, tap, tapping on his stomach to show Lillian how hungry he was? Or if he used the force majeure clause as an excuse to break the contract he’d made with Ellen?
    But then I thought, no, I did know him. Okay, I didn’t know if he helped with the dishes or if he handled money well. But I knew how seriously he took his marriage vows—hell, if he was breaking them, wouldn’t he have tried to break them with me, years ago?
    “Did you?” I asked. “Did you slip out and push Martyn to his death?”
    “No.”
    “I didn’t think so. Let’s get out of here.”
    We headed for the stairs.
    “It’s a schlep, but we have to walk.”
    He started down. I grabbed his sleeve and pointed up.
    “The roof. We can’t take the elevator because the cops are going to question Jimmy, and he’d tell them we went up there.“
    “Why would Martyn have gone up there?”
    “I wish I knew. I wish I knew a lot more than that”
    We walked for a while in silence.
    “Rachel, why were you looking for Sky’s tennis ball in Martyn’s room?”
    “Just to double-check. I don’t know if Sky was with her, but if he was, he wouldn’t have gone without his ball.”
    “That’s not what I meant. Couldn’t they have been in her room? Martyn didn’t have a dog to worry about.”
    “It seems the females go to the males, just like in dog breeding.”
    With dogs, the bitch does the traveling, often by plane. The stud dog stays home, where he feels calm, confident, and relaxed. At home, feeling his oats, the stud dog is less likely to disappoint, more likely to perform.
    Partway down the hall on five was the door to the roof, locked up tight, just as it had been when I’d photographed it on Sunday. There was a sign, too. It said No Entry. I wondered if I was right, thinking that this was where Martyn had been when he fell.
    Chip reached for the door.
    “Wait. Let me do this. This is the last place in the world you want to leave your prints.”
    I took two dog bags out of my pocket and put them on as gloves. Then I used the passkey and pushed the door open with my shoulder. There was a narrower flight of stairs behind the door, this one not carpeted. The door up top was a fire door. You could open it from the inside, but not from the outside without a key. I pushed it open with the side of my arm, and we walked out onto the tar