High Jinx

by Shannon Esposito

  Table of Contents

  Cover

  A Selection of Previous Titles by Shannon Esposito

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  A selection of previous titles by Shannon Esposito

  The Pet Psychic Mystery Series

  KARMA’S A BITCH

  LADY LUCK RUNS OUT

  SILENCE IS GOLDEN

  The Paws and Pose Mystery Series

  FAUX PAS *

  HIGH JINX *

  * available from Severn House

  HIGH JINX

  A Paws and Pose Mystery

  Shannon Esposito

  This ebook is copyright material and must not be copied, reproduced, transferred, distributed, leased, licensed or publicly performed or used in any way except as specifically permitted in writing by the publishers, as allowed under the terms and conditions under which it was purchased or as strictly permitted by applicable copyright law. Any unauthorised distribution or use of this text may be a direct infringement of the author’s and publisher’s rights and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly.

  This first world edition published 2016

  in Great Britain and the USA by

  SEVERN HOUSE PUBLISHERS LTD of

  19 Cedar Road, Sutton, Surrey, England, SM2 5DA.

  Trade paperback edition first published 2016 in Great

  Britain and the USA by SEVERN HOUSE PUBLISHERS LTD.

  eBook edition first published in 2016 by Severn House Digital

  an imprint of Severn House Publishers Limited

  Copyright © 2016 by Shannon Esposito.

  The right of Shannon Esposito to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs & Patents Act 1988.

  British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data

  A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the Biritsh Library

  ISBN-13: 978-0-7278-8602-6 (cased)

  ISBN-13: 978-1-84751-704-3 (trade paper)

  ISBN-13: 978-1-78010-765-3 (e-book)

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents

  are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

  Except where actual historical events and characters are being described

  for the storyline of this novel, all situations in this publication are

  fictitious and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead,

  business establishments, events or locales is purely coincidental.

  This ebook produced by

  Palimpsest Book Production Limited, Falkirk,

  Stirlingshire, Scotland.

  ONE

  I cringed as my 1976 VW Beetle shuddered and belched a black plume of smoke before falling silent in the driveway of the Beckleys’ thirty-million-dollar mansion.

  ‘Drama queen,’ I huffed.

  Buddha, my faithful seventy-pound bulldog mix, licked my arm from the passenger seat. I wrapped him in a full body hug and kissed him between his alert brown eyes. ‘Made quite the entrance, didn’t we?’ Shaking off the embarrassment that seemed to be my fate on Moon Key – a private Gulf coast island for the rich and insanely rich – I grabbed my yoga mat from the back seat. ‘Let’s go meet our client.’

  As we approached, I eyed the monstrous home with trepidation. An elaborate stained-glass front door sat beyond flat marble steps. Royal palm trees stood guard like sentries beside the steps and a half-moon balcony hung over the entrance. It seemed like a good place to ambush visitors. I imagined ninjas falling gracefully from their perch to thwart salesmen, thieves and lowly doggie-yoga instructors.

  A short-statured man with a shiny, polished head, clad in a white moisture wicking shirt and red track pants emerged from the front door. Hopping down the steps with the confidence that comes from living in a multi-million-dollar mansion, he approached us. Definitely not ninja material. His smile was too bright, his demeanor too welcoming and there was no place to hide a sword.

  ‘Hello.’ His eyes flicked from me to Buddha – who, to my horror, had a sling of drool about to drop on the man’s spotless pavers – and then over to my old Beetle slumped behind us. I had to give the man credit for his composure. He only twitched a little as he asked, ‘And you are?’

  I cleared my throat and tried to exude confidence. ‘Elle Pressley. I’m here for a doga lesson with Flavia and Athena. Selene set it up.’

  ‘Ah.’ He glanced behind him and then, coming to some decision, held out his hand. The crinkles in the corners of his bright eyes held a touch of humor. ‘I’m Michael, Selene’s other half. Not the better half, according to her.’

  I shook his hand, relaxing under his non-judgmental demeanor. ‘Nice to meet you.’

  ‘Well, come on then. I’ll take you around to the back kitchen. My mother-in-law practically lives in there while we’re on Moon Key. People think I’m obsessed with running, but to be honest I’m just trying to avoid weighing three hundred pounds because that woman is most definitely obsessed with cooking.’

  I laughed politely as Buddha and I followed Michael Beckley around the left side of the mansion and down a beautiful, curving stone path that cut through tropical gardens. Mini palm trees provided shade on the path with their lush, full fronds, while other plants had been carefully layered throughout to give texture, color and scent to the walk. Silver saw palmettos, fountain grass, elephant ear lilies and bright pink cordyline; various blooming hibiscus and orange bird of paradise … the variety was overwhelming, and I kept stopping to touch or smell each one. Michael was kind enough to wait and not be put off by my awe and reverence of his landscaping. However, awe and reverence quickly turned to embarrassment as I realized Buddha was tugging at the end of his leash, and I turned to find he’d shoved his muzzle into a decorative fountain, helping himself to a slobbery drink.

  ‘Sorry,’ I mumbled, giving his leash a tug. ‘Buddha, come here.’

  Michael chuckled as Buddha trotted happily back to me, his dripping tongue dangling from his wide mouth. I smiled down at him, despite my embarrassment, glad this man had a sense of humor. ‘Come on, boy.’ I decided not to stop and admire anything more lest Buddha decide that he now needed to empty his bladder on any of the perfectly kept foliage. I imagined alarms would sound and those ninjas would swoop down upon us for such a crime.

  The path opened up to an equally amazing backyard, the main attraction being a rectangular pool of sparkling dark blue water in the middle of impeccably cut emerald grass. Four bordered landscape beds filled with date palms, bromeliad, various blooming annuals and ground cover were equally spaced around the pool. Tall, graceful coconut palm trees studded the perimeter of the yard and beyond that lay the seawall and private boat slip complete with a docked yacht big enough to blot out the sun.

  A loud crack sounded on the other side
of the bushes. Jerking my head in that direction, I could have sworn I saw a head peeking over. It was gone in an instant. I glanced at Michael as he eyed the bushes, his face hardening. What was that all about?

  I ran my hand self-consciously over my sales rack T-shirt, wiping at the dog hair, as Buddha and I were led to French doors set off to the side of a large stone lanai. Massive pots full of cacti had been placed on either side of the door. More unwelcoming guardians.

  He opened the door and peeked in. ‘Yiya, you still alive in there?’

  A slew of angry foreign words echoed from inside, along with a sharp yipping. I assumed it was Greek since Michael had called her yiya, which in my understanding meant ‘grandmother’.

  Michael grinned at me. ‘She’s not my biggest fan. Selene was supposed to marry a good Greek boy.’ He winked at me and opened the door further, making a sweeping motion with his arm. ‘No sense of humor, that one. Anyway, she’s all yours. Good luck.’

  I smiled back at him. ‘Thanks.’ I stepped into the kitchen with Buddha by my side and was instantly overwhelmed by delicious smells. A plump Chihuahua wobbled toward us, tiny nails clicking on the floor, yipping a high-pitched warning. Buddha sat down and licked his lips, a sign that the little dog was making him nervous. I rested a hand on his head and tried not to make eye contact with the tiny canine guardian. My rule was not to make eye contact with small angry dogs or large drunk men.

  ‘Athena! ’Nough!’ An elderly woman in a wheelchair rolled herself away from her work at the counter and moved toward us, waving a hand at the dog. The dog leapt into her lap and stared at us with the same slightly yellowed, dark brown eyes of her owner.

  The woman stuck out a weathered, trembling hand. Her voice also trembled and held a thick Greek accent. ‘I am Flavia. Nice to meet you.’

  I bent to take her hand but Athena bared her tiny teeth, her ears flattening on her head. I pulled my hand back and heard an immediate rumbled response from Buddha beside me. He’d never been aggressive toward another dog before, but he’d never seen me threatened by one, either. Loosening my grip on his leash to let him know I didn’t feel threatened – dogs apparently translate tightened grip with fear energy and get protective – I stood back upright and smiled. ‘Nice to meet you, too, Flavia.’

  ‘Sorry.’ Flavia wrapped her hand around Athena’s chest and pulled her close, chastising the little dog in Greek.

  ‘It’s fine. She probably just needs some time to warm to us.’ Changing the subject to a more pleasant one, I asked, ‘What are you cooking? It smells amazing.’

  A smile wrinkled her cheeks as she pushed a lever on her chair and turned toward the oven. ‘Dis, I make spanakopita for lunch.’ She glanced back over her shoulder and eyed me suspiciously up and down. ‘You eat, no?’

  ‘Yes, I eat.’ I grinned. I liked this woman. ‘Maybe we should do a little doga first, Flavia. So Selene doesn’t feel like she’s paying me to eat lunch.’ I slipped off my flip-flops at the door and walked deeper into the massive Mediterranean-style kitchen. The brick floor felt cool on my soles. Now that I was paying attention, I noticed the whole kitchen – from the low-slung double oven to the marble counters with cut-a-ways beneath them – was designed for wheelchair access. The Beckleys must’ve designed this kitchen just for her.

  ‘Bah,’ Flavia motioned with a pot holder, ‘I get plenty exercise cooking. My daughter, she worries for nothing.’

  Burying a smile, I continued surveying the custom kitchen with awe as I worked to convince her to let me earn my keep. This was my first lesson out of the studio at the Pampered Pup Spa & Resort – where I taught doga classes thanks to my best friend, Hope, getting me a job there last year – and I intended to give Selene and Flavia their money’s worth. Especially because Selene had offered an obscene amount of money for a thirty-minute lesson.

  ‘You might, but Selene did tell you I teach doga, right? It’s actually yoga for dogs, so really, I’m here for Athena. To help you help her get a little exercise.’ My gaze wandered up to the thick, exposed wood beams hanging low across the ceiling. They’d been stained a rich chocolate color and contrasted perfectly with the rough-textured white walls.

  A loud burst of laughter startled me and I quickly glanced at Flavia. She had her hands perched on the wide hips spread under a flowered apron. Her grin almost completely hid her eyes. ‘Fine. We do this doga.’

  The look she gave me let me know she wasn’t falling for my crap line, but she would humor me nonetheless. I really liked this woman. My heart ached for a moment as I wondered what it would be like having a grandmother, but I quickly shook that thought off. No use wanting something that would never happen. That was a sure-fire way to be miserable.

  Flavia untied her apron with precision slowness and tossed it on the counter, revealing a black Mumu and a large round pennant hanging around her neck. It was blue with a wide-open eye painted in the center and it was startling. Athena watched me suspiciously from beneath it. ‘What you need me to do?’

  ‘Well …’ I cleared my throat, trying not to stare at the blue eye in the center of her chest. It was unnerving. Focus, Elle. Selene hadn’t mentioned her mother being in a wheelchair, but luckily I’d brushed up on teaching chair yoga before I came, since she’d mentioned they’d recently celebrated her mother’s eightieth birthday.

  ‘Just follow along as best you can, let me know if anything hurts so we can modify it and just have fun.’ Smiling, I slid my mat from my shoulder and unrolled it with a flick of the wrist. Buddha immediately flopped down on it, stretching out his back legs in his version of cobra pose.

  I grabbed a chair from the table and slid it beside the mat. ‘Let’s start with our hands and then we’ll move on to Athena’s paws. First, roll the wrists like this.’ I demonstrated, watching her expression for any signs of pain as she followed along. I led her to switch directions. ‘Good, Flavia. Now let’s start there with Athena.’ I patted my leg and Buddha pushed himself off the mat and came to sit in front of me.

  ‘You can teach Athena to listen like that?’ Flavia grunted.

  I glanced down at the little dog. As soon as I made eye contact, her lip raised. She definitely considered herself the queen of this castle. Pressing my own lips together, I shook my head and held out my hand for Buddha’s paw, which he happily plopped in my palm. ‘Flavia, I have a feeling Athena would never let anyone tell her what to do.’

  ‘You are right about that,’ she chuckled. She picked up the tiny paw – which I now noticed had sparkly tangerine nails – and followed my lead as I massaged Buddha’s paw. ‘I think dis is why she live so long. She’s twenty-seven, you know.’

  My eyebrows rose as I appraised Athena. I knew smaller dogs lived longer, but that was an unbelievably long time. She didn’t look a day past ten, though her white face hid any gray that might have crept into her fur. Still, that had to be a record. ‘That’s extraordinary. You must cook for her, too.’ My stomach growled. I was having a hard time ignoring the scent coming from the oven. We switched paws.

  She nodded once. ‘She eat what I eat. But she is too ornery to die, I think. God knows she would cause trouble in heaven.’ Chuckling to herself, she patted the dog’s back affectionately.

  I laughed. ‘I don’t doubt it. OK, Flavia, let’s stretch our arms and shoulders. Please, don’t force anything. Lift your arms only as high as is comfortable.’ I led her through a few minutes of stretches and shoulder rolls and then moved to stand on my mat with Buddha seated in front of me. ‘The pup’s turn. Place your hands right under Athena’s armpits like this.’ Hinging at the waist, I demonstrated on Buddha. ‘Then using your body to support her, pull her against your chest and lift her into a stretch.’ I pulled Buddha against me and he rose with me, his two front legs up in the air, his belly exposed. His long, wet tongue caught me on the chin before I could raise my head, making me laugh.

  We went through about ten more minutes of stretches with the dogs and then, since we couldn’t finish with sava
sana, I tried to lead Flavia in a few minutes of meditation with her eyes closed. She was having none of it.

  She waved me off. ‘OK. We finished.’

  I opened my eyes and watched her twirl her wheelchair around and head back to the business end of the kitchen. ‘Time for lunch.’

  ‘Finished,’ I repeated, nodding from my mat. I smirked at Buddha. His squinty-eyed pant looked like he was as amused as I was. I stood and moved the chair back to the table. ‘Anything you need help with, Flavia?’

  ‘You can come get the Caesar salad,’ she called.

  My stomach rumbled in anticipation as I retrieved the large wooden bowl of creamy, crouton-filled salad. Flavia had dispersed Athena from her lap perch and replaced the little dog with a tray full of steaming spanakopita.

  ‘This is really lovely of you, Flavia.’ I hadn’t had authentic Greek food since Hope had taken me to The Greek Garden in Clearwater two years ago. And even then, I’m not sure that was entirely authentic. There was no feta to be found.

  Flavia plopped a piece of the spinach pie in a dish by the table – which Athena proceeded to gobble up with little growling sounds – and waved her hand at me as she rolled by the table with another piece of the pie on a dish. ‘Is nothing. Everybody has to eat.’

  When I realized where she was headed with that dish, I tried to stop her. ‘Oh, Flavia, he doesn’t do well …’ Too late. Buddha only sniffed the piece of spinach pie once before woofing it down in two bites. ‘… With people food,’ I finished under my breath.

  I smiled and shoved a forkful of salad in my mouth. I would pay for that later. As I chewed, Flavia maneuvered her wheelchair to the table and made the sign of the cross over herself before picking up her fork. She rolled her shoulder. ‘Ah. Much more loose. I like this doga.’ Her smile lit up her eyes.