Barking with the Stars

by Sparkle Abbey

  The taller one—in my head I was calling her “Curly Sue” because she had great naturally curly brown hair—adjusted her glasses and turned to the smaller Asian woman. I’d dubbed her “Tiny,” well, because she was not only short, but petite in every way from her stature to her movements. Tiny head nods. Tiny lips barely moving as she spoke. A tiny but long-fingered hand deliberately tucking short, tiny hair behind her ears. Hopefully I could learn names soon.

  Curly turned to Tiny. “Purple doesn’t have any relatives. She talked about being raised by her grandfather for most of her life in that interview with Rock Talk several years ago.”

  “That’s right,” Tiny agreed. “I imagine Mandy will be the one to make all the arrangements.”

  “We should get in touch with her so that we can pass the information on to our members.” Curly Sue pulled out her smartphone and swiped something open. “I have her private number. I could text her.”

  “I also have it.” Tiny was not to be outdone.

  The two seemed to know a lot about Purple and her personal life. But I guess that goes along with fame. But members? What did they mean by members? The whole fandom thing had seemed a little creepy to me. Were they members of a Purple Fan Club? I’d not seen these two dressed up in Purple’s signature look. Or had I? But then again, how would I know, right? Not when everyone wore face-covering wigs!

  Paul, the police spokesperson, took the podium on the platform of the staircase. It was only maybe four or five steps up but it separated him from the mob. I’m guessing maybe a Tania idea. In the background she politely moved people so they weren’t blocking exits.

  The clamor of sound turned to silence as Paul tapped the microphone, making sure it was on.

  “If I could have your attention,” he began.

  Knowing what he was about to share, I felt the weight of the words I knew were to come. The words that would confirm to fans who had only been speculating, their very worst fears.

  Chapter Six

  “SOMETIME AFTER ten o’clock last night someone entered the hotel room of the celebrity known as Purple. There was a struggle, and she was fatally injured.” The officer stopped and looked at the crowd.

  “There was no forced entry. We believe the victim knew her killer.”

  A collective gasp shot through the room.

  He waited for the room to quiet before continuing. “Anyone with any information about this incident is asked to call the Laguna Beach Police Department at this number.” He paused as people scrambled for pen and paper and then gave the number. “Or Orange County Crime Stoppers. You may also submit anonymous tips via our website. Thank you.”

  As soon as he finished, Callum MacAvoy waved his hand. “We understand that you already have a person of interest in custody. Is that true?”

  “We do have a lead, but I’m sure you understand, I’m not at liberty to talk about that.”

  He had to be referring to Geoffrey. I wondered how that tidbit had leaked so quickly. There had been only a handful of people in the room at the time. And I knew I hadn’t told anyone other than Diana who I absolutely knew would not have passed on what I’d told her.

  “What was the cause of death?” asked a reporter from another television station.

  “The coroner has not yet ruled on cause of death, but we believe the cause to be blunt force trauma.”

  “Are we in any danger?” asked a girl I recognized from the entourage the night before.

  “We don’t believe so,” he answered, “but if you see anyone acting suspiciously, you should report that to hotel security immediately.”

  Paul did a great job of stating the facts and then simply repeating them as reporters and fans alike wanted to know more.

  By the third time through, I couldn’t take any more. I needed some air. Reaction, I told myself. Shock. I’d been busy with Lavender. I’d been worried about Mandy. It had all caught up with me. I felt like I’d been awake for forty-eight hours. Like this morning was days ago.

  I moved away from the crowd and slipped outside to the courtyard. People were still going about their business, eating lunch, heading for the beach, but there was a different subdued feel to the atmosphere. I found a table in the shade, sat down, and kicked off my shoes. A hotel staff person offered me a mineral water, and I accepted.

  I don’t know how long I sat, letting the sounds of people talking, dishes clattering, and children giggling wash over me, but I could tell when the press conference ended because a flood of people swept past me. I watched groups of fans come through the courtyard and either head up to their rooms or go through to the beach.

  My phone buzzed and I checked it to see that Diana had sent me a text. The Barking with the Stars committee wanted to meet as soon as possible to discuss the turn of events. She wanted to know if later today or tomorrow morning worked for me. Also, she wanted me to call her when I got home. I responded affirmatively to both.

  As I dropped my phone back in my bag, Tania walked by. She spotted me and stopped.

  “How are you doing?” she asked.

  “I’m okay,” I lied. “How about you?”

  “The hotel is not at all happy with a murder onsite when they are just barely opened.” She shook her head.

  “Inconvenient, huh?” I took a sip of the mineral water.

  Tania nodded ruefully. “It seems so cold, but the truth is I didn’t know her. I feel very sad for her family, though. Those who cared about her.”

  “I guess she didn’t have any family. Only child. Parents deceased. Raised by her grandfather, who is also gone.” I held the cool water bottle to my forehead, hoping to stop the ache between my eyes.

  “That must be very lonely,” Tania observed. “I have one sister, two brothers, and many cousins.”

  “Me, too. No sisters, but one brother, and tons of cousins.” Maybe that was part of my introspection. Purple had no one. I had family. I had a cousin. One who lived right here in Laguna Beach. Our mothers had both done the beauty queen circuit and we’d been expected to do the same. After learning what that life was like, we had each rebelled in our own way, walking away from those expectations. We’d shared so much with each other when we were younger. We had more in common than blood, but we were so divided today, we might as well live on different continents.

  “I’m sure the police will solve this very quickly,” I mused. “There must be security cameras everywhere.” I’d heard the crime scene techs talking about the potential for video. It was a new hotel so that surely meant all kinds of state-of-the-art technology that could help.

  “That’s a problem.” Tania sighed.

  “What do you mean?” I took a sip of water from the bottle.

  “There are video cameras in the hallway that leads to the Starfish Suite.” She lowered her voice. “But they had been disabled.”

  “What?” The police had seemed to think Purple’s murder had been a crime of passion. Someone she’d argued with, things had gotten out of hand. “How were they disabled?”

  “I don’t know any more than that.” The guilty look on her face said she’d realized she probably shouldn’t have shared the piece of information.

  “Don’t worry,” I assured her. “I won’t be talking to the press.”

  “Thanks, Caro.” Tania straightened her shoulders. “I had better get back to work. We have a large group of financial people checking in, and it will get busy at the front desk.”

  I could only imagine. A bunch of accountants or bankers here for their conference and then all the Purple fans in their various Purple outfits. What a mixture.

  As Tania walked away, I watched the flow of people to and from the courtyard, strolling between wings, and stopping to talk. If I’d been convinced before that Geoffrey wasn’t the killer, I was even more convinced after Tania’s revelation. Disabling th
e cameras changed this from an argument gone wrong to premeditated murder. Someone had known where she would be and had planned to kill Purple.

  I slipped my shoes back on and gathered my things. I had several things to take care of and sitting here was not going to get them done.

  For one, I needed to call my mother before she saw the news and made the connection to Laguna Beach. It was possible Purple’s murder had not yet hit the national news. Unlikely, though, right? I dreaded the call, not because I’d have to recall details. Mama Kat was hardly ever interested in the details. Or least only interested in them as they related to her.

  And somehow by the end of the conversation, my proximity to a crime would have given her grey hair, caused great embarrassment for her, or made it impossible for me to land a decent husband. Take your pick. There would be something.

  I promised myself that I’d take care of it as soon as I got home, but instead I let Dogbert out and then cuddled up with him on my bed and drifted off to sleep fully clothed.

  I woke up to the ringing of my cell phone. Oh no. It was Mama Kat’s ring. My brief nap had set me back. Maybe she’d already seen the news.

  It’s a terrible thing to admit, but I always have a little fight-or-flight response when my mama’s number shows up on my phone. Because of that I’d set a special ringtone that gave me a little warning.

  “Hello, Mama,” I croaked, my voice still groggy from sleep. “I’ve been meaning to call you.”

  “I would hope so,” she responded. “Didn’t you get my email?”

  I’d been so dead-dog tired with all that had gone on that I’d simply skimmed through emails, and it was likely I’d missed it.

  “Probably.” I made my way to the kitchen and poured myself a glass of sweet tea hoping it would wake me up. Dogbert followed me to the kitchen and I refilled his water bowl as I listened.

  “I need to know as soon as possible if any of those dates work for you and Sam.” I could see her on the other end tapping a nail on her desk, or fluffing a pillow while she talked. Mama Kat hardly ever just sat still.

  “This is for the barbeque?”

  “What else would it be for?” The exasperation was clear in her voice.

  The Big Texas Barbeque was her latest mission. She’d never met Sam, but she’d talked with him on the phone. He’d admitted he’d never experienced a genuine Texas barbeque. And she had decided such a serious gap in his life experience must be remedied right away and she was just the woman to do it.

  At least she’d stopped setting me up on blind dates with sons and nephews of friends. Ever since Sam Gallanos had come into my life, Mama Kat had decided there might actually be hope for me finding dates on my own. But like everyone else, including Sam, she thought it was time to get serious about what my future plans were with the handsome Greek.

  “Mama, Sam is out of town right now.” I took a big gulp of my tea and slid open my patio door. I set the glass on the table and dropped into the patio chair. “When he’s back, I’ll ask him about the dates you emailed to me. Okay?”

  She’d not made any connection between Purple’s death and me, and I thought it best to get it over with than wait until she did.

  “Mama, listen. I don’t want you to worry, but you remember the fundraiser for the therapy dogs for veterans that I told you about?”

  “Of course, a very good cause, dear.” She was probably still tapping or pacing. “I talked to Hub about it, and he said it was a good one.”

  Hub is my step-father, and the only father I’ve ever known, and I loved him to pieces. And respected his judgement. However, I was a little irritated that she’d felt the need to check it out with him rather than take my word.

  “Well, you’ll probably see it on the news but the singer who was to headline the event has been killed.”

  “What?”

  “I said—”

  “I know what you said, Carolina Lamont,” she interrupted. “I simply cannot believe it. You stay far away from that investigation. Don’t even think about getting involved. The last time you were trying to be helpful, you came very close to—” She stopped. “Well, I can’t even say it.”

  “There’s more.” I might as well get it all over with at once.

  “What more could there be?” I could hear the slide from concern to hysteria in her voice. Maybe I should have called Hub and asked him to break the news to her.

  “Take a breath, Mama.” I waited and then continued. “Geoffrey is a suspect in the murder.”

  “That—” She paused, then used a word Grandma Tillie would have taken great exception to, and dropped the phone.

  “Mama?” I raised my voice. “Mama? Are you okay?”

  Well, I’d definitely underestimated this one. I didn’t really believe she was in any physical danger, but was undoubtedly on a rant or prostate with emotion. On our best days we pushed each other’s buttons, which was why we functioned best living several states apart.

  “Mama?” I waited and tried one more time. “Mama?”

  I pushed disconnect and called Hub’s cell. It went to voicemail, but he called me right back. I explained the situation, and he said he’d check on her right away. Hub was solid and I adored him and his calm.

  He ended our conversation with a caution of his own to be careful. I promised I would.

  We hung up and I sat for a few minutes finishing my tea and thinking. The events of the day were still just as shockingly surreal, and yet as I reviewed them in my mind, I still did not believe Geoffrey was capable of murder.

  My phone beeped, and I noticed I’d missed another phone call from Sam.

  Ah, Sam. What was I to do about Sam? I loved our relationship just as it was. He was smart, funny, and totally got me. Who could ask for more, right? Not me.

  Like Purple, Sam had been raised by a grandparent. His American mother and his Greek father had died when he was young. His grandparents had taken on his care and brought him along in the business world. In their case, olive imports. His grandfather had been gone a number of years, and his grandmother, who many believed had always been the business savvy behind the company’s success, had continued to run the business after his death. I’d met Yia-Yia, as he called her, and she was still a force to be reckoned with. She reminded me of my Grandma Tillie in so many ways. I grinned to myself. Could be some of the pressure Sam obviously felt to formalize our relationship came from that corner.

  I listened to Sam’s message and went inside to call him back. Just as my finger hovered over the recall button, the doorbell rang.

  Before answering I peered out to see who it was.

  Hell’s Bells!

  I wasn’t about to go into hysterics like Mama Kat, but I have to admit I did drop my phone.

  It was Geoffrey.

  Picking my phone up from the floor, I leaned my head against the door and thought through my options. I could simply not answer. I could tell him to go away. There was no reason I had to talk to him, but the truth was I wanted to hear his version of what had happened. And I didn’t think he killed Purple. That would require more backbone than Geoffrey Carlisle had.

  I opened the door.

  He went straight through to the living room and dropped onto the couch. Dogbert gave him a wary look and moved away. Thelma and Louise raised their heads and then dismissed him as uninteresting and went back to their naps. My pets had better sense than some humans.

  “Would you like something to drink? A glass of tea or something else?” My southern hospitality had been bred deep. You offer even your worst enemies food and drink.

  “Don’t you have something stronger?” He glanced around the room.

  “I have wine,” I offered.

  His expensive blue shirt was rumpled and he looked like he’d missed a shave. “I guess that will have to do.” He cont
inued to examine the room while I got out a wine glass and poured him a glass of cabernet.

  I handed him the wine glass. “Will this work?”

  I knew it would, of course. I knew what wines he liked, the amount of starch he liked in his shirts, his favorite brand of socks. At one point in my life, I’d made a point of knowing everything about him. All of his preferences.

  I’d be willing to bet he would be unable to name a single one of mine.

  “This is quite a change from what you grew up with.” He waved a hand at the room in general. “You’ve come down in the world, Carolina.”

  Of course, he would see my house that way. What I’d created was a home instead of a showplace. Comfortable sturdy furniture you could sit on, books I enjoyed, a place accessorized with things that meant something to me.

  I refused to take the bait. I’d come a long way.

  He continued to look around. “I thought the pet shrink business was booming?”

  “Is that why you’re trying to take it away from me?” Okay, I hadn’t come as far as I’d thought.

  “Whoa there.” He set his glass on the coffee table. “Who says I’m taking anything away from you? You don’t have your clients under contract and if they want to work with someone else, I assume they’re free to do so.”

  “Stop it, Geoffrey,” I bit out.

  His head whipped around and he stared at me.

  “Just stop it.” I wasn’t going to let him off the hook with the fake innocence. “I know what you’re doing. And you know what, go right ahead. My good clients know me and will stick with me. I don’t even care about that. What I am concerned about is that you have no experience, no love for animals, and obviously, no scruples. But then this isn’t your first rodeo as a cheat.”

  His bloodshot blue eyes hardened. “Come on, Carolina, you aren’t going to dredge up ancient history, are you?”

  “No, as a matter of fact, I’m not.” I went back to the cupboard and took down another glass and splashed some cabernet for myself.