by Marie Celine
Rick Ruggiero was standing beside the fountain giving an impromptu history lecture on the fountain’s mallard ducks to a family of five. The youngest was a handful and chased gaily after the ducks. The ducks didn’t seem to mind. In fact, a particularly aggressive iridescent green-headed male mallard seemed to delight in chasing the youngster back.
Kitty interrupted the manager long enough to ask for directions to the grooming salon and soon found herself wandering down a long, broad hall past the heated indoor swimming pool, whose signage indicated that it was for pets and their guests. A lone collie paddled about while its probable owner slurped an icy drink. She hurried past the rear of the kitchen and then out to an atrium off which were a hair salon for people and a pet grooming parlor. Inside the parlor, Barney sat like the supreme ruler of all he surveyed atop a wooden table that looked like it might have been an authentic Chippendale. He was licking his paws the way he did after a particularly fine meal. Lunch must have met his royal approval.
Fred was resting, comfortably by the look on his face – drooping eyelids and a lolling tongue – in a claw-foot tub on the travertine floor. An olive-skinned woman with generous curves snapped off a pair of elbow-length latex gloves and rested them on the side of the tub.
‘Can I help you?’ She sniffled and plucked a cotton handkerchief from her pants. Rows of lotions and potions lined the glass shelves behind her. There were little bottles of resort-branded shampoos and conditioners for pets.
‘My name’s Kitty Karlyle. I’m here to pick up my pets. These guys,’ she said with a grin. ‘Though I’m not sure the two of them are ever going to want to leave the way you’re treating them.’
The woman grinned back, wiped her nose then sprayed a soft warm jet of water over Fred’s back and haunches. ‘Yes, of course. I’m Lina.’
Kitty nodded. Sure enough, the woman’s nametag read Lina Dolofino. The name sounded Greek and by the look of her she could be of Mediterranean descent with that gorgeous skin and thick, dark wavy hair parted down the middle – as wavy as Kitty imagined the Mediterranean Sea to be on a windy day – with large hazel eyes, thick lashes, voluptuous lips and a pronounced nose that on her looked regal, like she could have been a Greek goddess. A diamond pendant hung from her neck on a slender gold chain.
‘They’ll be ready in a minute. I need to give Fred a good dry. You can take a seat there and wait if you like.’ She sniffed again and indicated a plush wingback chair in the corner. ‘Sorry, I’m allergic to the chamomile in the shampoo.’
Kitty scooped up Barney and rested him in her lap. She was going to give the guy some love and attention whether he wanted it or not. Wearing black pants and a black shirt, Kitty couldn’t begin to guess how the groomer kept her clothing hair-free. ‘Fred sure seems to be enjoying himself.’ She watched Fred lick at Lina’s fingers. She would have said something but Lina didn’t seem to mind.
‘Believe me, I enjoy it as much as the animals do.’ She grabbed a plush white bath towel with the hotel’s name in red letters running the length of it and proceeded to rub Fred down.
‘Hey,’ Kitty spotted two large poodles stretched out on a rug in the next room, which seemed to serve as an office, ‘aren’t those Victor Cornwall’s dogs?’ The collars were different – simple but sturdy Little Switzerland Resort and Spa bands of red and blue – but the poodles sure looked identical.
‘Yes.’ She made the sign of the cross. ‘I heard about his death. I was giving a Shih Tzu a teddy-bear cut when one of the waitresses popped in and told me. There was quite a commotion, though the manager tried to keep the news quiet.’ She shuddered. ‘I was horrified.’
‘Tell me about it,’ Kitty replied.
The groomer’s brow went up.
‘I found the body.’
She gasped. ‘Are you all right? I’d be mortified.’
Kitty shrugged. ‘I’ll be OK. I mean, I’m doing better than Mr Cornwall.’ She pointed to the poodles. ‘They seem to be holding up and they were hovering over the body when I – that is, my friend Fran and I – found the body.’
‘That’s Mercedes and Benz.’ The groomer rolled her eyes very slightly but Kitty hadn’t missed it. ‘I’m taking care of them until his wife shows up.’
Lina took a look at the damp gloves at the edge of the tub and spotted a hole through which she ran her pinkie. ‘I go through a thousand of these a day, it seems.’ She tossed them into a trash bin where they joined several previous pairs of castoffs. ‘Latex and cat claws don’t mix.’
The groomer grabbed a bright green, bristly rubber mitt and, to Fred’s delight, gave him a firm rubdown.
‘Victor Cornwall was married?’ She hadn’t even considered that. He didn’t seem the marrying kind. At least not the reliably faithful kind. And his behavior toward her and Fran had strongly backed up that opinion.
‘Yes. I mean, that’s what I heard around the resort.’ Lina grabbed a spray bottle and spritzed the Lab with something citrusy, then snatched a blow-dryer from the counter. ‘Not that you’d know it by the way he hounded it up around here.’
‘I take it you didn’t care much for the man.’
Her smile was elusive. ‘He was a guest. One never speaks ill of a guest.’
Kitty nodded. Of course.
A twinkle flashed in the groomer’s eyes like twin flashbulbs. ‘But just between you and me, he was a real shmendrik.’
‘A what?’
‘A jerk. King of all jerks, actually.’
Kitty laughed. ‘Sounds like the right title to me.’ King Shmendrik. She liked it. From what little she’d seen of the man – alive – the title fit like a glove or, in this case, crown.
The groomer turned the blower on Fred. He woofed at the warm air the way dogs always seemed to do. Barney, on the other hand, stiffened. ‘Again,’ she cleared her throat, ‘just between you and me,’ she said, waving the blower at Kitty, ‘I hear she’s a real piece of work.’
‘I hope she likes dogs,’ Kitty quipped, struggling to calm Barney as the warm air wafted over them.
‘Me, too,’ said Lina, snapping off the blow-dryer. ‘All done.’
Kitty reached into her purse. ‘How much do I owe you?’
Lina shook her head. ‘It’s all included in your stay.’
‘At least let me give you a tip.’ Kitty pulled out her wallet.
Lina laid her hand atop Kitty’s to stop her. ‘No, really. That’s not necessary.’ She leaned closer. ‘To tell you the truth, I’d pay to do this job. I love the animals. They are so special … so innocent and precious.’ She smushed Barney’s face in her hands and gave him a kiss.
Kitty laughed as Barney squirmed in her arms. ‘Then let me buy something.’
Lina laid a gentle hand on Barney’s face and he quietened down. ‘We do have a full line of all-natural pet care products. Everything from haircare products to toothpaste.’ Lina massaged her fingers.
‘Where are they?’ A blinged-out blonde in glossy red heels came strutting into the salon. She pushed past Kitty and squared up with Lina. ‘You’re the dog washer?’
Lina stole a glance at Kitty, then nodded to the woman. ‘I’m the in-house groomer, yes. Mrs Cornwall?’
The intruder folded her arms across a chest that must have cost a Beverly Hills bundle. Her short, stylish bangs were a blonde that could only have come from a very expensive bottle. ‘Where are my dogs?’
The two poodles began yelping and Fred suddenly jumped toward the woman. Lina clapped her hands firmly and all three dogs quieted down.
‘Wow, you really have a way with animals,’ Kitty said admiringly.
‘It’s nothing.’ Lina shrugged off Kitty’s compliment. ‘When you’ve worked with animals as long as I have you develop an understanding.’
‘Like Doctor Doolittle.’ Kitty smiled. ‘I loved those books when I was a girl.’
‘Me, too,’ Lina said.
‘Lovely – you’ve shared a moment,’ snapped the woman. ‘Now, where are their leads?’
‘Of course,’ Lina said with a calmness that Kitty didn’t think she could have mustered. ‘I’m afraid the dogs did not come with leashes.’
The woman merely glared bug-eyed at her. Lina gulped. She went deep into her office and returned with two nylon ribbon leashes, one blue, one red. ‘You can use these if you like, Mrs Cornwall.’
The woman laughed. ‘Not for long.’ Lina motioned for the poodles to sit. She gently clipped the leashes to the collars. ‘All set.’
Mrs Cornwall was frowning. ‘What am I going to do with these two?’
Kitty noticed she had the lower lip of a Hapsburg. ‘You don’t like dogs?’
Victor’s widow looked at Kitty as if she’d just now realized she was in the room. ‘Who are you?’ A chill Arctic wind accompanied her words. And though shorter than Kitty by a good two inches, she still managed to look down her nose at her. Quite a trick.
‘Kitty Karlyle.’ She held out her hand.
‘Eliza Cornwall.’ The woman’s fingers barely brushed over Kitty’s hand. ‘If you must know, I despise dogs. I loathe animals of any sort.’ She tugged at their leashes. The corner of her mouth turned up as she said, ‘Unless I’m wearing one around my collar.’
‘I don’t understand,’ said Kitty.
‘Mink? Ermine?’
Ewww, thought Kitty. What was next, baby seals?
‘Victor, rest his soul, loved his dogs. After my husband became successful financially he got caught up in this whole dog-show competition thing.’
She shook her head as if passing judgment. ‘The time he wasted travelling from dog show to dog show, all for the sake of a blue ribbon or a trophy or two. I’ll never understand what he saw in the activity.’
‘Like the BKA Championship?’
Lina looked up.
‘Yes,’ said Mrs Cornwall. ‘How did you know? He was quite proud of that win.’
‘I saw the ring the night we met.’
Mrs Cornwall nodded and shook her head. ‘He was always showing off that ring.’
‘It meant that much to him?’ asked the groomer.
‘Winning always meant everything to Victor.’ Eliza Cornwall’s smile seemed to hold secrets. ‘And now he’s gone and left me with these two brutes.’
Kitty was stunned. Mercedes and Benz? How could anybody not love those two poodles? OK, so their names were ostentatious. That wasn’t their fault. Blame that on Victor Cornwall. The dogs looked absolutely adorable. Certainly not brutish at all. ‘What will happen to them now? They’re beautiful dogs,’ said Kitty, reaching out a hand to pet the nearest one. ‘If I didn’t already have a dog and cat and one tiny apartment I’d consider adopting them.’
There was a pregnant pause in the air.
‘I could take them,’ suggested Lina.
Eliza chuckled. ‘You couldn’t begin to afford them, my dear.’ She pulled up the slack on the poodles’ leashes and they stood. ‘These are quite expensive champion show dogs. I’m not about to let them go for nothing.’
Lina’s cheeks reddened.
With those words, Mrs Cornwall marched off with the dogs prancing beside her.
‘Wow, a real piece of work, isn’t she?’
Lina agreed as she straightened up the salon. ‘Yes. I hear she and Victor were married for a dozen years. Of course, he spent ten of those in jail. He’d been out less than a year till now.’
Maybe that had made living with the guy more palatable. ‘And now he’s dead.’
‘Yes, now he’s dead.’
A young couple holding hands hovered at the entrance to the salon. A humongous Saint Bernard with a curly pink ribbon atop its head stood between them.
‘Mr and Mrs McKee?’
They nodded in unison. It was time for Lina’s next appointment. Kitty gathered up Fred and Barney and left her to it. It wasn’t long before she caught up with Eliza Cornwall arguing with the resort manager outside the kitchen.
Kitty paused and hovered near a gilt-framed painting depicting Little Switzerland in the nineteen twenties, hoping to eavesdrop. She pretended to admire the heavy-handed painting while craning her ears.
‘I don’t care. I simply must get in my husband’s room,’ Mrs Cornwall was insisting.
Ruggiero held his hands together as if in prayer. ‘But, the police have said—’
‘I don’t care what the police said. Victor was my dear, dear husband.’ She wiped a nonexistent tear from the corner of her eye.
Kitty moved a squirming Barney up to her shoulder and let go of Fred’s leash. He seemed happy standing there. Maybe he admired the painting more than she did.
‘I simply must have access to his room. As his widow, it’s up to me to see that everything is in order.’ She laid her fingers on Rick Ruggiero’s upper arm like the spider reaching out to the fly. ‘You understand, don’t you, Mr Ruggiero?’ She batted a pair of thousand-dollar lashes.
He swallowed hard.
‘I’m all alone. I have to handle everything now.’ She sighed heavily. ‘I will need to go through his personal effects.’ She sniffled. ‘And it is all so very difficult.’
Good grief. Kitty stifled a groan. Were all men such suckers?
‘I-I’ll see what I can do.’
Eliza Cornwall pecked his cheek, leaving a smear of lipstick that Kitty suspected Ruggiero would wear like a badge of honor for the rest of the day.
Kitty’s phone rang and she reached quickly into her purse. Vic’s widow turned her way, glaring suspiciously.
Kitty looked at the number on the display, which she didn’t recognize and normally wouldn’t answer. But in this case, with Eliza eying her, she picked up. Ruggiero, and then Mrs Cornwall, stumped off.
‘Hello?’
She almost wished she’d never answered.
TWELVE
Jack was on the line. Kitty was both relieved and delighted to hear her fiancé’s voice. But when she heard Elin Nordstrom’s laughter in the background her happiness quickly faded. ‘Jack, where are you? I’ve been trying to reach you for hours.’
It felt more like days.
‘I’m at the hotel, calling from a phone outside the conference room. I can’t talk long. Tell me what’s going on. That was a long and twisting message that you left on my voicemail.’
Kitty quickly filled him in, trying to stick to what mattered. Trying not to hear the laughter in the background. What kind of law enforcement conference was this anyway? Shouldn’t everyone be all dour and professional? Looking at grim crime-scene photos?
‘Look,’ Jack was saying, pulling Kitty out of her reverie, ‘I wouldn’t worry too much. Chief Mulisch seems like a good guy who knows his stuff. And as far as suspecting Fran goes, well, you said it yourself – Victor Cornwall had thousands, maybe millions of potential enemies if you look at all the people whose money he’d taken and lives he’d ruined in his career.’ She heard a muffled whisper in the background as Jack continued. ‘It’ll sort itself out. You and Fran focus on having a good time. Remember, you’re on vacation.’
‘It’s a working vacation.’
He cleared his throat. ‘Emphasis on vacation. Focus more on that. You’ve got an entire crew there to worry about the work part. Let them do their jobs and let the police do theirs.’
Silence hung over the line for a moment as if underscoring the distance between them.
‘I suppose so,’ Kitty replied finally, though she hardly felt that way. She’d seen how Chief Mulisch had looked at Fran. Did they still lynch people in Little Switzerland? ‘When will you be home, Jack?’
‘The conference is over on Sunday and we’ll be driving back Monday unless we stay over for a meeting in Berkeley that day. You can hang on until then. I’ve got faith in you. Oops, gotta go.’
Kitty pressed her ear to the phone. Was that Nordstrom she heard calling Jack?
Jack came back on the line. ‘Can you believe it? The lieutenant’s volunteered us to play a hostage couple in a search-and-rescue training session. What a pain,�
� he said with a laugh. ‘I’ll call you later this evening, OK?’
Kitty agreed and rang off. A couple? ‘Ooh, that woman.’ A passerby glanced her way and she urged Fred to move. This weekend couldn’t be over soon enough for her. She never thought she’d miss Hollyweird, but the quicker she and Fran and her pets got back to LA the better she’d feel. Better still when Jack got back from Sacramento.
She ran into Vic’s friend coming out of her own suite as she was going in. This was the man who’d been with Vic when they’d all first met. She’d noticed him again that morning in the bistro when she was having coffee with her parents. And he hadn’t seemed too upset about his friend’s death. In fact, he’d seemed to be having quite an amusing conversation with a man Kitty recognized as being one of the New-Age/New-Pet organizers judging by the smile on his face at that time.
‘Excuse me.’
‘Hello,’ Kitty took a step back, ‘Mister—’ What on earth was he doing in their room? Was Fran OK? She pulled Barney close. Fred didn’t seem bothered by the guy at all. She peered over the man’s shoulder, trying to see into her room.
‘John Jameson.’ He held out a solid hand and Kitty juggled Barney one-handed to keep up with her end of the social contract convention. ‘I hope you don’t mind. I came to check on you and Fran. After what happened I wanted to be sure you two ladies were OK. Finding Victor like that must have been quite traumatic for you both.’
Kitty said that it was. ‘I suppose it’s been even harder on you. You and Victor are – were obviously very good friends.’
Jameson laughed. ‘You could call it that.’
What did that mean? ‘In fact, when I first saw the two of you together I thought you might be brothers.’
‘Really?’ He appeared genuinely surprised. ‘No one’s ever said that before.’ He laughed again, though this time it degenerated into a cough and he lightly pounded his chest. ‘Sorry about that. Old smoker’s cough. A nasty habit I’ve been trying to quit.’
‘So you and Vic aren’t related?’
‘Only in a business sense.’
‘Why were you both here at the resort? Was that business?’