Claws for Alarm

by Cate Conte

  “Did she say why she was here in the first place?”

  “When she first called me, she said she would be here on other business but wanted to see the café.”

  “When was this?”

  I thought back. “About two weeks ago, maybe a little less?”

  Ellory wrote that down.

  “Who else was involved in this fundraiser?” he asked.

  “Jillian had gotten Peyton Chandler and Marco Moore to be guests of honor. Peyton is a big animal person. They both are.”

  “So she had a relationship with them.”

  “I guess,” I said. “I don’t really know how connected they are, but she seemed to know them pretty well. She probably worked mostly through their agent.” I thought of the four of them outside of the café the other day, having that serious conversation. None of them had looked happy then either. Not to mention the Peyton/Jillian argument I’d heard on the back porch.

  “Who is that?”

  “Chad Novak. I think he was at the hotel this morning.” I suddenly remembered I hadn’t told Ellory that. “I saw him on the stairs inside.”

  “Was he staying there?”

  “No idea. Jillian was.”

  He cocked his head. “How do you know that?”

  “She told me,” Grandpa said.

  Ellory drummed his fingertips on the table. “Interesting. You’re sure?”

  “That’s what she said. Why?”

  “Because she wasn’t registered as a guest,” Ellory said.

  I looked at Grandpa. “That’s weird. She was dressed like she’d just gotten out of bed. Bare feet and everything. You think she was under a different name?”

  “Could be.” Ellory made a note.

  “Check Jo Sabatini. They work together at the League. Maybe she reserved rooms for everyone?”

  “I will. Any other names come to mind?”

  I shook my head. “She didn’t mention anyone else by name. But…” I had to tell him. He’d find out anyway. “She got her packages delivered to Stevie’s house. The boxes of…” I winced a little bit. “The leashes and collars. She was picking them up from Stevie’s when I went there yesterday. I did wonder why she didn’t get them delivered to the hotel if she was staying there.”

  “I have no idea.” He closed his notebook and offered me a small smile. “See? And you thought you had nothing new to tell me.” He stood.

  Grandpa and I stood with him.

  “I’m going to see how Craig’s doing,” he said, an unspoken order to wait here.

  I sank back down into my seat. Grandpa went to pour us more coffee. My phone buzzed on the table. I glanced at it. Another number I didn’t recognize. I almost let it go to voice mail, then decided this really wasn’t the day to do that and wearily picked it up. “This is Maddie.”

  “Maddie, hello.” I recognized that breathy voice immediately, but she still introduced herself. “This is Peyton Chandler.”

  I sat up straighter in my chair, as if she could see me. “Peyton. How … how are you?” I assumed she’d heard, but couldn’t be sure.

  “Well, I wish I could say I was fine, but how can we be fine after what happened? How are you holding up? I hope it’s okay that I called. I asked Chad to get me your number.”

  I wondered where he had gotten it. “It’s perfectly fine. Thank you for calling.” I paused, not sure what else to say.

  There was an awkward silence—apparently Peyton didn’t know what to say either—then she said, “Would you and Val like to come out to my boat and talk today? We have a lot of loose ends to discuss.”

  I wasn’t entirely sure what she meant by that. Maybe Jo and the rest of the League’s team had already reached out to her about keeping the fundraiser on the books? Now I was intrigued. “Sure. I mean, I’ll have to ask Val, but I’m sure it will be fine.”

  “Okay. That would be great. Say four o’clock?”

  I agreed, then hung up and looked at Grandpa, who was patiently waiting for me to tell him what that call was about. “Peyton Chandler,” I said.

  He nodded. “I gathered.”

  “She wants me and Val to go over to her boat later.”

  At this, he arched an eyebrow. “For what?”

  “To discuss the ‘loose ends.’” I took the coffee cup he handed me. “You think Val will be up for it?”

  “Up for what?” Val asked, walking into the kitchen.

  “There she is,” Grandpa said, going over to give her a hug. “How did that go?”

  “It went fine. I didn’t have anything different to tell them than Maddie. But I got my phone back.” She held it up with a weak smile. “So, what will I be up for?”

  “A visit to the marina. Peyton Chandler called and asked us to come over later,” I said.

  “She did? Why?”

  “No clue.” I spread my hands wide. “But I think we should go see.”

  “Do you really think that’s a good idea?” Ethan, who had come in right behind her, chimed in. “This whole thing is kind of a mess.”

  “She’s probably just going to tell us she’s leaving and wants to say goodbye. She was really kind to offer to help, so I think we should go. It will be fine.” I looked at my sister.

  “I agree. I’ll go,” she said. She reached over and patted Ethan’s hand. “Don’t worry about me. Besides, I need a distraction. I don’t want to go upstairs and pretend to take a nap and keep seeing … Jillian’s body.” She shivered a bit. “Come get me when it’s time to leave.”

  Chapter 24

  I went upstairs to find Lucas. My head was kind of spinning and I needed to sit down for five minutes. He was in my room with Ollie and JJ, sitting on the bed. He looked relieved when I came in and reached for my hand. “Hey. All okay?”

  I nodded, flopping down next to him and closing my eyes. “As okay as I guess it can be.”

  “The cops find out anything else?”

  “No. I told them about the agent being at the hotel. It’s weird.” I sat up. “Jillian told Grandpa she was staying there, and she was dressed this morning like she was. But she’s not registered as a guest.”

  “You think she was staying with someone?”

  “I have no idea. Peyton Chandler just called and invited me and Val to her boat later.”

  “You’re kidding.”

  “Nope.”

  “For what?”

  “I don’t know. I guess we’ll find out when we get there. She mentioned ‘loose ends.’ And Jillian’s other person from the League called earlier. She wants to still try to have the event. I wonder if that’s why Peyton is calling.”

  “They want to have it still? Jeez, nothing like mourning their colleague, huh?”

  “I know, right? I can’t figure out why this is so important to them.”

  “Well, it’s a good story, right? Soldiering on in the face of a tragedy and all that?”

  I dropped my arm over my eyes. “You’ve been hanging around with Becky too much.”

  * * *

  That afternoon, we took Val’s car to the marina. As she drove, I rested my head against the back of the seat. “How are you doing?” I asked finally.

  She stared straight ahead. I could see how tense her jaw was from the side. “I don’t think I’ll ever get that vision out of my mind.”

  “I get it.” I sighed and turned to look out my window. The island looked … normal. People were going about their business, laughing, dragging beach chairs and kids around, eating ice cream. A perfect island Sunday. Even if the news had broken already, the tourists were going to be too busy having fun to worry about it—if they even tuned in long enough to hear. “I’m sorry.”

  “Why are you sorry?” In a very uncharacteristically Val gesture, she reached over and squeezed my hand. “It’s not your fault. And you actually got close enough to … well.” She cleared her throat. “I’m sorry for you too.”

  Wow. Val was not the touchy-feely, talk-about-emotions type. This event had had some effect on her.
I squeezed her hand back. “Thanks. Hey, is Ethan okay?”

  “I think he’s more shaken up than I am,” she said with a little laugh. “And that’s saying something. But he’s fine.”

  “Understandable. But he seemed pretty serious about you not coming out here today and distancing yourself from this.”

  “I know. He’s just being protective. I was really rattled this morning, Maddie. I know you have a thicker skin than me, so you probably don’t get it.” She slowed as we came to a cluster of cop cars at the top of the street leading to the marina. Apparently it was true—no one was getting in unless you had specific business. Apparently the whole island was coming to gawk at Peyton Chandler’s boat. And probably at Peyton Chandler.

  “I don’t know why people think that. I am not ever going to be okay with finding a dead body. And what’s going on?” I craned my neck to try to see around the flashing lights, a feeling of dread starting to build in my stomach. Had something happened here too?

  Val must’ve been thinking the same thing. Her hands were clenched on the steering wheel, knuckles white. A cop came over to the car, leaning close to the window.

  “Help you?” he asked in a bored tone.

  “We have an appointment at the marina,” Val said.

  “With who?”

  I resisted the urge to correct his English and leaned over. “Peyton Chandler.”

  He barked out a laugh. “Sure thing. You and the rest of the island. The marina’s closed to anyone without a boat.”

  Val looked at me, raising her eyebrows.

  I stood my ground. “She invited us. Is she okay? Did something happen?”

  Now he was looking at me like I was an escaped mental patient. “She invited you,” he said. Skepticism dripped from the words.

  “She did. Maddie James.”

  “Mm-hmm. And she invited me to sleep over later too,” he said. He stood, rapping the hood of the car with his knuckles. “You can turn around right here.”

  “We’re not leaving,” I said. “I’ll call her.”

  The cop pulled out his radio as I pulled out my cell phone. Good. I hoped he called Ellory. Ellory might not like it that we were there, but he would know we weren’t just celebrity stalkers. I hoped the number Peyton had called me on was her direct line and not some diverted number that would go to a call center. I hit REDIAL and waited for someone to pick up. As I did, I glanced in the sideview mirror at the car behind me. Then sat up straight. “You have got to be kidding me.”

  “Maddie?” Peyton had picked up. “Are you here?”

  “Peyton. Hi. Yes, sorry. We are at the top of the street but the police won’t let us through.”

  She sighed. “I’m very sorry about that. We were getting a lot of people coming to the docks to gawk at us. Someone tried to get on the boat earlier this morning. It was quite upsetting. Let me call down there. Give me a moment.” She disconnected.

  “She calling them?” Val asked.

  “Yeah.” I threw open my car door.

  “Where are you going?” I heard Val asking, but I ignored her and marched to the car behind me, knocking on the passenger-side window.

  Kevin the Chronicle photographer hit the button and the window slid down. He looked sheepish. His driver, Jenna, did not. “What are you doing?” I demanded, leaning into the car.

  Jenna shrugged. “I was in the area still and saw you pull in here. So I figured we’d see where you were going.”

  “You have to leave. This is the reason why this”—I waved my hand at the blockade—“is occurring.”

  The cop’s radio crackled. I heard a garbled voice, but couldn’t make out what it was saying. The cop glanced at me, leaned in and said something to Val, then motioned for me to hurry up.

  I looked back at Jenna. “You have to leave.”

  She smiled. “We’ll see.”

  I got back into the car. As we passed the cop I leaned over and said, “The car behind is media.”

  He sighed, muttered something under his breath, then waved us on. As we drove down the street, he moved in front of Jenna’s car.

  “What was that about?” Val asked as we pulled up to the marina gate, where we were stopped again to confirm our visit.

  I waited until they waved us through before responding as we cruised through the empty parking lot and drove up to where the yacht was moored. “Becky’s reporter. I hate to be that way, but she’s so aggressive.”

  “They won’t let her in anyway,” Val said. “Why all the cops though? Protection?”

  I nodded. “Apparently people were trying to get on the boat earlier.”

  Val shook her head. “People are unreal. But it’s extra scary given what happened.” She put the car in park and looked at me. I could see the fear still in her eyes. “Jillian was strangled in broad daylight. You know that, right? With a staff full of people around.”

  “I know.” And I didn’t really want to think about it at the moment. “Let’s go.”

  Chapter 25

  We got out of the car and walked to the dock, where we were greeted by more security people. I could see cops stationed in different spots along the dock and throughout the parking lot. This had to be three-quarters of the police force. The chief must be losing his mind.

  The security team, three burly guys wearing Secret Service earpieces—different guys than the first day we came out here to poke around with Damian—insisted on looking in our bags and patting us down. She seemed to have upgraded her security. Once they were satisfied we were clean, they shepherded us down the dock to a little ramp leading up the side of the boat. Up close, it was larger than it looked from even a few hundred feet away.

  “This thing has, like, four floors,” Val whispered as we followed the first guy. The other two had stayed behind to make sure no one else slipped past, I guess.

  The guard paused at a door, pulled out his keys to unlock it, then swung it wide. “Go ahead, please,” he said.

  I stepped through first, Val on my heels. I heard the door shut behind us as Esther appeared, seemingly out of thin air. “Hello again. Right this way, please.”

  She led us up a short flight of stairs to a room that literally took my breath away. It was probably the size of our whole downstairs floor, designed for an airy, light feel—all white couches and chairs in various sizes and shapes, creating a rectangular sitting area in the middle of the room, with recessed lighting and light wood accents. Peyton waited on one of the couches. She matched the room in her breezy white sundress, but aside from her outfit she looked very unlike herself. Her hair was piled on her head in a bun and she wore no makeup. This made her look older, which I guess is the point of makeup. But it was weird to see her look … normal.

  And today she looked sad.

  “Girls,” she said, rising and coming forward to hug me, then Val. “Please, sit.”

  I was kind of afraid to sit on one of the white couches for fear I would get it dirty. Then I noticed Rhiannon curled in a ball on one side of the smaller couch. Much like JJ, she opened one eye, surveyed the situation, then went back to sleep. I sat down next to her. Val chose one of the chairs. Peyton sat back in her original spot where she had a good view of us both.

  “Can I get you anything?” she asked. “Lemonade? Water?”

  “Lemonade would be great,” I said. Val nodded her assent.

  “I’ll ask Chandi to prepare a tray,” Esther said, and left the room. The white carpeting muffled her footsteps into silence.

  “Thank you for coming,” Peyton said. “I’m sorry about the police and all the … fanfare. I really hate drawing attention to myself.”

  That made me almost giggle out loud, considering the size of her boat, but I managed to swallow it. “No problem. It must be scary for you, to have people trying to access your home.”

  “It is,” she said. “Where I usually dock, people are used to me. Plus there are usually other boats much bigger with much more important people on them, so I’m a small fish. But
here…” she trailed off, knotting her fingers together. She almost seemed uncomfortable with her own fame. “I wish people wouldn’t make such a big deal.”

  “People love Hollywood,” Val said. “And you and Marco are so well known.”

  Peyton didn’t comment on that.

  “We do get a fair amount of celebrities here but none of them show up on a boat like this,” I added. I didn’t want her to think our island was deprived of famous people. “Anyway, how are you both doing?” I wondered where he was, but it was a ginormous boat. He could be anywhere. Some boats this big had amenities like concert halls, underwater viewing areas, entire spas, and Olympic-sized swimming pools. You could probably go a month without bumping into anyone else who lived here too.

  “Shocked,” Peyton admitted. She glanced up as Esther returned with a tray. “Thank you, Esther.”

  Esther placed the tall lemonade glasses and a plate of cookies—homemade, from the looks of them—onto the table, then sat on the other lone chair. “What a terrible day,” she said to me.

  “Horrible.” As images of Jillian threatened to creep back in, I sipped my lemonade to distract me. It was delicious. Definitely not from a bottle in the market. “How did you find out?” I asked Peyton.

  “The police. I’m assuming they found my number in Jillian’s cell phone. We actually … spoke this morning. I know she was meeting you two to discuss the event.”

  I nodded slowly. “The hotel staff were hoping you’d be there for the meeting,” I said. “They were disappointed when I said you weren’t coming. So you two were … close?”

  “We’ve known each other for years,” she said, which didn’t really answer my question. “I met her on a movie set ages ago, when they were supplying some shelter dogs for a part. We discovered we were both animal people. Have a cookie. Please. Esther baked them this morning.”

  Val and I each took one. “Yeah, animal people usually stick together,” I said lamely, not really sure what else to say, then took a bite of my cookie. It was amazing. Better than Ethan’s, and that was saying something. “This is delicious,” I said.

  Peyton nodded. “Aren’t they? In any event, I know there’s been a flurry of activity on the League’s part. Jo reached out this morning. So I thought it best to confer with you two directly.” She leaned forward, resting her forearms on her knees. “Jo and the team want to keep going with the fundraiser.”