Marshmallow sat under my folding chair, scrunched down in my Hello Kitty bag. Nevertheless, his protruding fur tickled my ankles. I shifted my feet as I listened to the meeting.
Onstage, Tammy stood addressing the dozen or so folks who had shown up. Everyone else besides me sat in the first two rows to pay better attention to her speech.
Despite Tammy’s glittery short-sleeved top, she had a serious expression on her face. I tuned in to the last half of her sentence. “. . . a new fundraiser,” she said, lifting up a cardboard box.
A man with a bald patch on the back of his head spoke up in a loud bellow. “Is that candy we’re selling?”
“It’s chocolate,” Tammy said. “Rich in antioxidants.”
A woman gasped. “But not dark chocolate—it’s milk. What’s the cacao content?”
Tammy shrugged. “This is what I could get on the fly.”
Another woman waved her maroon-manicured hand in the air, and Tammy called on her. “I don’t understand. I thought we were doing a dog show fundraiser. My kids were ecstatic about your original idea.”
Tammy shuffled some index cards in her hands before speaking. “We ran into some difficulty securing the right kind of performance dogs.”
“Didn’t you say you could rent some cute Chihuahuas and have them trained in no time?” Maroon Nails said.
Tammy fanned her face with the index cards. “No time left for any more questions. Sorry, we have to go over our budget this evening, so I’m turning the stage over to our treasurer.”
A lady wearing a peach chiffon dress and pearls stepped onto the stage and swapped places with Tammy. I didn’t bother listening to the numbers and percentages she spouted.
My mind remained on the school fundraiser Tammy had mentioned. The old one involving dogs. Had Tammy wanted to use Russ Nolan’s pups for it?
After the meeting adjourned, I waited for all the parents to leave before heading over to Tammy. She continued to look down at the index cards in her hands. I wasn’t sure if she was analyzing the speech she’d given or merely avoiding an onslaught of questions from upset PTA parents.
I tapped her on the shoulder. “Hi, Tammy.”
She startled. “Mimi? What are you doing here?”
I thought of the first school-related thing I knew and babbled. “Um, my sister’s a teacher. But she’s at a different place . . . er, for now.”
Her eyes focused on me. “I see. She needs a job.”
“Well, she did just get a pink slip.” My thoughts strayed to my sister. Poor Alice. She loved her job. And although I wanted to help her fight to keep her position at Roosevelt Elementary, maybe it wouldn’t be a bad idea to have a reserve plan.
“Sometimes the school will retract those . . . but I’m besties with the principal here. Your sister can mention my name as a reference.”
It’d be a great backup for Alice. “That would be a lifesaver. Thank you so much.”
Then I refocused on the murder case. I took a deep breath and gambled on my next words. “One more thing. I happened to be talking with Lauren’s assistant. She mentioned you had a phone conversation with Russ Nolan about Kale.”
She crinkled the card in her hand. “Well, that’s not surprising. I complained to him about Kale’s health.”
I gestured to the stage where she’d spoken during the meeting. “Were you working with him for that doggie fundraiser you spoke of?”
Tammy sighed and slipped the index cards into her distinctive metal-studded bag. “I tried to, and it would have been the event of the year. Kids and puppies—what could be better? Russ Nolan promised me top-notch dogs and even sold me on the idea by showing me Kale, who seemed in prime health at the time . . .”
“So did you confront Russ about your dog’s medical condition?”
“Yes.” She stood up and folded her chair with a snap. “I even asked whether I could return Kale.”
I collapsed a nearby chair. “What did he say?”
“No refunds.”
We took the chairs to the back and placed them in the storage rack. “That’s rough,” I said.
“I canceled the dog show when I discovered Kale’s poor health. Even if I couldn’t give the puppy back, I thought Russ Nolan would help with some of the medical bills at least.”
“And he wouldn’t?”
We put away more chairs.
“Didn’t do a single thing for me. So I filed a lawsuit to get him to pay up.” Tammy’s eyes clouded. “I actually went over to his house to tell him . . .”
“Oh. The day we met.” I remembered her showing up in her sleek SUV as I stared at the police-sealed house.
She cast her gaze at the floor. “Sadly, it was too late by then. And, of course, now I’ll never get a penny to help pay for the surgery.”
“Sorry, Tammy.”
“No matter. I will rise up.” She flung her metal-studded bag over her shoulder and held out a box of chocolates to me. “Want a bar? It’s to better kids’ education.”
“Okay.” I paid for two dollars’ worth of charity.
Tammy strode out the door, her chin lifted high.
“Poor Tammy and Kale,” I said to Marshmallow. “And she sure needs that surgery.”
“She was in a lot of pain,” Marshmallow said. “Told me about it when I met her in the shop that first time.” I remembered their back-and-forth barking and meowing.
“I hope she gets better soon.”
We walked back to the Prius, and Marshmallow paused near my car’s rear tire. He looked up at me. “I believe Kale’s feeling a little better. Through the doggie grapevine at the pool party, I heard that Tammy gave her special shots to numb the pain.”
I shook my head. “Will that really be enough to fix the leg problem?” Poor Kale—and the rest of her siblings. They all deserved better than to deal with bad health problems caused by an unscrupulous breeder.
CHAPTER
twenty-two
AS I UNLOCKED my shop the next morning, the phone was ringing off the hook. I let it go to voice mail. The caller didn’t leave a message, but then the phone rang again.
I hesitated to pick up. Could Detective Brown have somehow concocted a solid scenario that involved my favorite mug as the murder weapon?
Better to face the music now than later. I took a deep breath and picked up the phone. A male voice—but not the one I was expecting—spoke.
“Magnus?” I said.
“Mimi. Good thing your shop’s listed on Yelp.”
What would make him want to call me? “Do you need my professional grooming services?”
“I need to see you, that’s for sure. If you want to bring along supplies, feel free.”
I didn’t have to check my wide-open calendar to know I was available. “When did you want to come over here—wait, did you say ‘bring along’?”
“Yes, you can stop by my place right now.”
“This very minute?” I’d barely opened the store.
He cleared his throat. “As soon as possible. You can come with your tools and clean these dog biscuit crumbs off my puppies.”
Uh-oh. Magnus knew I’d snuck onto his property.
I fumbled the phone. It clattered against the countertop.
When I retrieved it again, I heard Magnus say, “Everything okay over there?”
“Fine. I’ll be at your place soon.”
Should I call up Josh to let him know where I’d be, just in case? But then he’d ask me probing questions, and given his lawyer skills, I’d probably confess to sneaking into the warehouse.
If Josh had been unenthusiastic about my peeking into Russ Nolan’s police-sealed house before, I doubt he’d be pleased to learn I’d actually trespassed now. I decided to let sleeping dogs lie. Instead, I screwed up my courage and took my very awake cat with me as I headed to Magn
us Cooper’s house.
When Marshmallow and I approached his front door, a cool breeze raised goose bumps on my arms. Having grown up with temperate SoCal weather, anything under seventy degrees felt nippy to me.
I rang the bell while Marshmallow stood sentry beside me. Magnus opened the door, and his face looked set like stone.
Lifting my basket of grooming supplies to chest level, I shielded myself.
Magnus didn’t invite me in. He crossed his arms, blocked the doorway, and said, “What were you doing in the nursery?”
Should I tell him about the doggie eyewitnesses? Maybe if I could put a more believable spin on it . . . “I thought the dogs might have extra evidence in regards to Russ Nolan’s death.”
Magnus glared at me. “I washed them clean of his filth. There shouldn’t be anything tainting them from that house. Why are you so interested in Russ Nolan anyway?”
I sighed. “The detective on the case has me pegged for the murder.”
Magnus guffawed. “Why would he think a slip of a girl like you could be a threat?”
“I don’t know. And I’m really sorry about visiting the puppies without your permission.” Holding my grooming supplies out, I said, “Please, let me make it up to you. I can groom your dogs.”
He uncrossed his arms but didn’t move.
“Must I do everything around here?” Marshmallow said. Purring, he sidled up to Magnus and did a dramatic shiver.
Magnus blinked at my cat for a moment. Then he stepped aside and waved us in. “Come inside, but only so your cute kitten can warm up.”
“Thank you so much.” I rubbed my arms and entered. In the photo area, I noticed Zel trying to catch two puppies running around.
Rushing over to the pen, I said, “Let me help you. I can also groom their fur. Sometimes the brushing calms them down.”
She gave me a frazzled smile and said, “All yours, Mimi.”
After I set my basket of supplies down, the puppies circled me out of curiosity. Speaking in a calm voice, I crouched down to their level. As I stroked them, they started acting more at ease. I massaged their little bodies and smoothed their fur with gentle motions.
Magnus nodded from the sidelines, and his niece seemed amazed by my dog-whispering skills.
“All done,” I said when I’d both tamed and groomed the dogs.
“Wow,” Zel said. “Can you also help me ready them for a photo shoot?”
She pulled out an Eiffel Tower backdrop. Then we positioned the dogs. The girl we dressed in a tulle skirt, while the boy wore a beret on his head. In between them, Zel laid down a velvet pillow with fake plastic rings attached to it.
“Aw,” I said, as Magnus grabbed his Nikon. He started snapping pictures of the mock doggie proposal.
At the end of the picture-taking, Magnus turned to me and gave a thumbs-up. I’d gotten back into his good graces.
Marshmallow, in the meantime, had gotten bored and started wandering around the house. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him leap onto the top shelf of a bookcase. He perched there, peering at a framed photo.
“Take a look at this,” he said, tapping it with his paw. Of course, the frame toppled right over.
“Oops.” I hurried to Marshmallow’s side and righted it while he jumped off the tall bookcase. Maybe Marshmallow wanted to distance himself from his guilt.
I examined the frame with care. No cracks in the glass or dents on the metal border. Then I noticed the actual picture and did a double take. “Is this Bogart?” In the shot, Magnus’s pride sire was dressed in a fancy bow tie, a glass of bubbly at his side.
Magnus came over to survey the photo. Then he turned to Marshmallow, who’d positioned his paws beneath his face and was looking up with wide innocent eyes. “It’s okay,” Magnus said. “I have tons of these postcards lying around.”
“Postcards? What do you mean?” I said.
Magnus took me to a spinning rack set on a side table. “We don’t just print calendars. We do postcards, greeting cards, and all sorts of stationery. Bogart is one of our top stars.”
I spun the card carousel and spied a familiar picture. Bogart with a gold medal draped around his neck. The same photo Tammy had shown me when she’d talked about Kale’s birth father. “Could Russ Nolan have bought one of these?”
“If so, not from me personally. But he could’ve ordered online or walked in and purchased one from my niece.”
Zel glanced my way. “What does this Russ Nolan look like?”
I described Russ Nolan to her, including his distinctive stubble beard.
“Nobody came in looking like that. Maybe he ordered online. I can go through our records.” She turned to Magnus. “Can you take care of the puppies while I check?”
“Sure. I should let the puppies rest anyway. They’re probably tired.” Magnus whisked them away to the warehouse while Zel sat down at the computer.
After some clicking, she pulled up a detailed spreadsheet. “Could this be him?”
She pointed to an “R. Nolan,” who had ordered several postcards a few months back. A familiar address appeared next to his name.
Soon, I heard Magnus’s heavy tread returning, and I spoke to him. “Looks like Russ Nolan did order some postcards.”
Magnus chuckled. “Maybe he wanted to see what high-quality Chihuahuas look like.”
“If only.” I shook my head. “One of my customers told me he used them as headshots to advertise the prized sire of his pups.”
Magnus banged his fist against the desk, making the computer keyboard jostle. “Not only did that man change the breeding records—he even used my own photos against me.”
The quality of the postcard prints was such that I’d mistaken them for real photographs at first glance. I bet Tammy had been likewise bamboozled.
How had she felt after realizing she’d been hoodwinked? Mad enough to commit murder? At least angry enough to have filed a lawsuit.
I left Magnus and Zel peering at their computer, the two of them grousing about copyright and how to insert watermarks on their pictures.
“Great detecting,” I told Marshmallow once we’d gotten outside. “Now to get more info on that lawsuit . . .”
We strolled through the neighborhood while I made a quick phone call to my favorite lawyer. Josh picked up on the first ring.
Had he been waiting for a call from me? My nerves sparked.
“Mimi,” he said. “It’s so good to hear from you.”
I loved the smile in his voice, and even though he couldn’t see it, I grinned right back at him. “Sorry to bother you at work.”
He half chuckled. “How else would you get ahold of me? I feel like I’m even sleeping here nowadays.”
“That bad, huh?” I shuffled my feet along the sidewalk.
“Actually, yeah.” He lowered his voice. “Someone was let go yesterday, and they’re talking about more cuts soon.”
“I guess your firm needs clients, just like my grooming business.”
“That, or a giant infusion of cash.”
“Ah, rich clients, then, not money-sucking pro bono ones like me.”
“So this isn’t a social call?”
“I wish.” Spying a scraggly weed growing in the crack of the pavement, I toed it with my sneaker. “Do you happen to have access to legal documents?”
“What do you mean?”
I stomped on the weed. “One of the puppy owners filed a lawsuit against Russ Nolan. Her first name’s Tammy. Do you think you can follow up on it?”
He gave a loud exhale. “It’ll take some digging around, but I have a few friends at clerks’ offices. Once I locate the right courthouse, I can give you more details.”
“Thanks, Josh. I really appreciate it.”
“Sure. But don’t hold your breath. I’m juggling quite a bit over here.
”
I lifted my shoe. The weed sprang up, undamaged.
My phone vibrated as I got another call. Seeing the ID, I groaned. “Josh, I’m going have to hang up.”
We said goodbye, and I switched over to the new caller. “Detective Brown,” I said, “how may I help you?”
The detective didn’t waste any time with chitchat. “I hear dispatch mentioning a disturbance in Russ Nolan’s old neighborhood. Are you involved?”
“What? No!”
My tone of indignation must have appeased him. “Better not see your name mentioned in the report,” he said. “I’ve half a mind to drive down there, but I’m currently on assignment elsewhere.”
“This doesn’t involve me, Detective.”
His voice turned gruff. “See that you stay out of trouble, Miss Lee.”
I hung up, wondering about the disturbance he’d mentioned.
Marshmallow glanced at me. “What’s up, pussycat?”
“There’s something happening at Russ Nolan’s right now.”
“Interesting.” Marshmallow purred like he’d gotten hold of some rich cream. “That’s not too far from here, right?”
“We could take a quick look . . .”
He nodded. “Curiosity never killed this cat.”
We hopped in the Prius and drove over to the other neighborhood, and I noticed a police car sitting in front of Shirl’s house. I eased my own car past her home and parked a bit down from Russ Nolan’s place.
We took cover from the convenient shadow cast by a large PODS container near Russ Nolan’s house and checked out the commotion next door. Shirl stood in her doorway, brandishing a rolled-up newspaper in a furious motion. Meanwhile, a policewoman in the driveway was chatting up a young woman I recognized as Nicola.
I leaned toward them to catch their conversation. Nicola brushed off her white power suit. “It’s all right, Officer. My friend and I just had a misunderstanding.”
The policewoman glanced back and forth between Shirl and Nicola. Between the professional-looking young lady in a sleek bun and the older, grumpy woman in an oversize sweater and drawstring pants, I knew which party the law would side with. “Please have a more agreeable conversation,” the officer said, “using quieter voices.”
Mimi Lee Gets a Clue Page 18