The Girl With the Dachshund Tattoo

by Sparkle Abbey

  Darby and I exchanged a look. Man, I hated that I felt like I was tattling on my grandmother. “She drove off the same time as Gia. We had to make a choice.” I shrugged. “Is Zippy okay?” I inserted, to stave off the reprimand I felt coming, and to make sure an innocent dog hadn’t been forgotten.

  “He’s fine. Don’t do this again,” Malone ordered.

  I bit the inside of my check to keep from smiling. I wasn’t sure which “this” he was talking about. There were a few choices. Although, I didn’t think Malone was asking me a multiple choice question. “Do what?”

  “Follow a murder suspect. You’re not the police. You could have been hurt. Or could have gotten someone else hurt.”

  Darby nodded solemnly. Her blond hair caught the sunlight, casting a glow around her head. “We know. We’re very sorry. I also have more photos from today’s event if you’d like them.”

  I kept my trap shut and let Darby handle the apology. Her Midwestern sincerity was hard to resist. Plus, she had potential evidence. Evidence was a surefire way to get on Malone’s good side.

  He walked to Darby’s side of the car and opened the door. “Get out of here and go home. Get me those photos first thing tomorrow.”

  Darby scrambled inside. Malone didn’t bother opening my door. Instead he glowered at me, silently communicating to keep my nose clean, then strode back to his shiny Camaro.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  IT DIDN’T TAKE long for Darby and me to return to Laguna Beach. Funny story, Detective Malone followed us the majority of the way, much to Darby’s chagrin. I was proud of her. Other than repeatedly checking her rearview mirror, and sitting perfectly erect in her seat, she didn’t let the fact the Malone was tailing us freak her out. I had to wonder if that was his way of ensuring we followed orders.

  While Darby concentrated on not committing a traffic violation, I worked at piecing together the day’s events. I couldn’t pinpoint what it was, but I felt like we were missing something.

  “Mel, I need to stop by the studio really quick. I’ll only be a couple of minutes. I want to download my photos for today. Once I do that, I can drop off the memory card to Detective Malone. Now that there are two murders, I’m sure he’d like them as soon as possible.”

  I smiled at her. “No problem.”

  Darby’s photography studio was conveniently located right next door to Bow Wow Boutique. We pulled up to the shop, and, lo and behold, there was Betty’s Mini Cooper—parked haphazardly in front of the boutique.

  “I can’t believe it.” I yanked my bag from the backseat. Betty had some explaining to do.

  “Be gentle with her.” Softhearted Darby grabbed her messenger bag and got out of the car.

  She walked to her studio. I, on the other hand, headed for the boutique with brisk steps. I opened the door and entered. Betty was preoccupied, digging through a stack of chew toys.

  I carefully set my bag on the floor. “Hello.”

  Startled, Betty jumped a mile high, dropping a handful of toys. “Don’t sneak up on an old woman like that. You want to give me a heart attack?”

  I waved away her dramatics. “If anyone around here has a heart attack, it’ll be me. What are you up to?”

  She jutted out her chin. “I had an errand to run.” She sounded like a petulant child.

  “I noticed that when you hot-rodded away from the dog park. Had you stuck around, you would have learned Malone found your gun.”

  A triumphant smile danced along her mouth. “I told you that filmmaker had it. I guess that wraps up that.” She resumed her search, dumping the toys onto the floor.

  “Not by a long shot. Malone wants to talk to you. You left without a word to anyone. Don’t you realize that makes you look guilty?”

  Betty scooped up the toys and dropped them back into the bin. Apparently, she hadn’t found what she was looking for.

  “Look, Cookie. No offense, but I got stuff to do. You head back to the park without me. I’ll meet you there.”

  I sighed. “Not happening. There’s no way I’m letting you out of my sight. Besides, my Jeep won’t start. You’ll have to take me back.

  “Then how’d you get here?” Skepticism dripped from her question.

  “I hitched a ride. Why won’t you tell me what you’re up to?”

  Betty remained stubbornly silent.

  I tugged my hair frustrated. “Of all people, you should know that I won’t judge you. Trust me enough to tell me what’s going on. Where have you been running off to? Are you in some type of trouble?”

  She brushed past me, heading for the counter. “It’s not what you think.”

  I grabbed my backpack and followed her. “That’s the point. I don’t know what to think. Is it money problems? Do you need some cash? Besides the wad of dollar bills you have stashed inside your purse? You should put your money in the safe until you can make a bank deposit on Monday.”

  “You keep your money, Cookie. Stop worrying about my cash and start worrying about yourself.” She pulled her purse off the shelf from under the counter.

  I sighed. The time had come to fill Betty in on my financial stability. I leaned against the counter blocking her only escape route. “I need to make a confession.”

  “What are you gonna tell me? That you’re hiding a kid?” She cackled at her lame joke.

  I grabbed her delicate hands and held them firmly in mine. “Look, there’s no need for you to worry about money. I have enough for both of us. If you’re in some type of dire financial situation, I’d be happy to help. Consider it a loan if it makes you feel better.”

  “I don’t know what you’re babbling about, but I have plenty of money.”

  “So do I,” I reassured her.

  “Sure thing, Cookie. Whatever you say.”

  She tried to pull her hands away, but I held tightly, careful not to apply pressure to her bruise. “I’m part of the Texas Montgomerys.”

  She narrowed her eyes and thought about what I was saying. “You mean oil?”

  I shrugged, unwilling to go into details. “Among other things.”

  She whistled. “You’re loaded.”

  I released her hands and straightened. “My family is wealthy. I’m blessed to be a Montgomery. The point is, I care a lot about you. If you need anything, please know you can count on me to help you out.”

  “Really? Anything?” She peered into my face.

  “Absolutely.” I nodded.

  “Okay. Come to my place.” She whizzed past me.

  I blinked. “Right now?” I should be happy she was taking me up on my offer. I hadn’t expected her to bite so quickly. I thought I would have had to work a little harder to convince her.

  “You got something better to do?”

  “I still need to pick up the Jeep. We left all the merchandise at the park. Malone wants to talk to you, and Grey and I have a date tonight.”

  “Then we better get crackin’.”

  I texted Darby informing her she was free of me. I slung my backpack over my shoulder and followed Betty to the door wondering where we were going and if we were about to do something illegal. We locked up the shop and headed toward her car.

  “What were you rummaging around for in there?” I motioned to the boutique.

  “You’ll find out,” she assured me. I wasn’t reassured by the secretive look she wore.

  Confession time. I’m a grown woman, but I was afraid to get in the car with Betty. I didn’t have a phobia about tiny cars, but I didn’t exactly feel safe riding in them. The majority of my fear came from Betty’s horrible driving. The last time I’d ridden with her, I hadn’t been sure we’d survive the experience.

  I hesitated, my hand on the passenger door handle. “Do you think I could drive?”

  She looked at me over the top of her Mini Cooper. “Do you know where we’re going?”

  “Not yet. But I can follow directions.”

  She opened her door. After a throaty laugh, she said, “No one drives my car
but me. Get in.”

  I’m not Catholic, but I crossed myself. Insurance. At least I had my seatbelt fastened before she backed out of the parking space at record speed. She slammed the car into drive and stepped on the gas. I grabbed the Oh-Crap handle above my head, flashing back to our last memorable drive together.

  “Do you think you could stay off the sidewalk this time?” I squeezed one eye shut and cringed as she narrowly avoided clipping a parked Land Rover.

  She gripped the steering wheel like she was a NASCAR driver. She turned her head and looked me. “You’re too wound up. You gotta learn to relax.”

  “How? You drive like a manic.” I gasped in terror. “Watch the road.”

  My life flashed before my eyes. I was going to die and miss my dinner with Grey. It was suddenly clear what I needed to do to make it up to Grey.

  Betty ran a yellow light, turned onto Pacific Coast Highway, and headed north. She gunned it coming out of the turn, slamming me against the door.

  “Did you get your license out of a box of Cracker Jacks?”

  I could practically feel my teeth grinding to dust, my jaw was clenched so tightly. I was afraid I’d cry out like a school girl every time the passenger tires blipped onto the shoulder, but I held it inside, lest she mock me for the remainder of our time together.

  “I’m a fantastic driver.”

  “No. You’re not. You switch lanes as often as a mother changes her newborn’s diapers.”

  “I like to make time.”

  “I like to arrive at my destination alive.”

  Betty slammed on the brakes and hung a left into a gated community. She rolled up to the security gate and punched in the security code. I flashed a sideways glance. She was definitely full of her own secrets. This wasn’t just any gated community. The cheapest mansion behind the gilded gate was a measly twenty-five million. In order to live here someone had to vouch that you weren’t a fraud or criminal, and have a substantial amount of cash in the bank.

  We wove our way through the meticulously kept neighborhood where even the soaring palm trees that lined the quiet streets were prestigious. The residential speed bumps were the only thing slowing down Racecar Betty.

  She finally found the long driveway she was looking for. She pulled through and parked next to the bungalow hidden behind the huge mansion in the front.

  “Who lives here?” I had to pry my fingers from the handle.

  “Me.”

  I did a double take. Someone else was secretly loaded. “Okay then. I see you don’t need my money.”

  “Nope. My daughter’s husband has plenty of dough, and they pity me, so they’re always paying me off. Enough about those losers. I need your help.” Betty opened her door and jumped out. “Now I don’t let just anyone in here. Swear on your Grandma Tillie’s brooch you won’t tell Valerie I let you inside. She’ll take it personally, and I’ll have to deal with her sniveling for weeks.”

  I climbed out of the car. I stretched my leg, working out the muscle cramp from being sandwiched inside her tiny clown car. “I won’t say a word.”

  I followed her up the stone walkway to an adorable stucco guesthouse with flower boxes in the windows. Charming and inviting. I was a little nervous as to what waited on the other side of the door. Betty paused with her palm on the handle. A pathetic whining came from inside.

  I gave her a long assessing look. What had she gotten herself into? “Is that coming from inside your house?”

  “Yes. Now, don’t dawdle. Come straight inside and shut the door. You have to move quickly. Got it?”

  No, I didn’t get it. “Whatever you say.”

  She unlocked the door and practically shoved me inside. My mouth dropped open.

  Holy cow. Betty’s cute little dream house looked like she’d hosted a frat party. Garbage, clothes and shoes littered the tile entryway and front sitting room. An overstuffed recliner had been knocked on its side, and two of her potted plants had been demolished.

  “What the hell happened to your house?”

  “Raider.”

  I tore my eyes off the mess and looked at Betty, more concerned than I’d been five minutes ago. “What or who is a Raider?”

  A large Saint Bernard with used tissues and food wrappers stuck to his face bound down the hallway and into the sunlit room. He jumped onto Betty, knocking her to the floor. He licked her face over and over, slobber dribbling down her shirt. Raider’s slobber. Not Betty’s.

  “Him.” She wrapped her arms around his thick neck and buried her face in his fur, giggling.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  “YOU HAVE A DOG? Since when?”

  I straddled the massive beast and pulled him off Betty. Good grief he was strong. He thought I was playing and knocked me on my butt.

  “Sit,” I ordered. He walked over me and pranced his way back to Betty.

  “I found him last week.” She pushed him back as she gathered her feet under her.

  I scrambled to my feet and helped her stand. “He’s a stray?”

  “No. He’s my dog. And before you get all crazy, I’ve already had Dr. Darling look him over and give him all his vaccinations.”

  That explained Betty’s secret visit to Daniel.

  “I read up on Saint Bernards on the Internet. They’re supposed to be slow and lazy. But he runs around like a furry freight train destroying everything in his path.”

  “I can see that. Betty, he can’t be more than eighteen months old. He’s still in the puppy stage. I’m sure as he gets older, he’ll calm down, but for now he’s going to have a lot of energy. Is this why you’ve been disappearing?”

  Raider ran down the hallway and brought back a Kong chew toy and dropped it at Betty’s feet. She patted his head lovingly. “Look around, Cookie. He’s destroyed my place. If Valerie sees this she’ll insist I get rid of Raider.”

  I looked around. “She may have a point this time. He’s chewed your furniture, dragged your garbage throughout the house.” I picked up an empty box of dog treats. “Did you take this yesterday?”

  She grabbed the box from my hand. “I’ll pay for it. He eats a lot, and he’s never satisfied with one treat.”

  At the word “treat,” Raider left his toy and trotted into the kitchen. He barked. I held back my laughter. Betty shuffled to the kitchen and pulled a handful of treats out of a plastic container on the dining table. Was this the same woman who ordered Luis to put Barney on a diet?

  “Last night he ate my favorite animal-print lounge suit. He doesn’t like to be alone so I come home every couple of hours to check on him. I’m exhausted.” She tossed him the treats. He dropped to the tile and immediately chomped on his snack.

  “Separation anxiety,” I said.

  “No. I think he doesn’t like to be left alone.”

  “That’s what I said.” I looked around the room. “You need help.”

  “That’s why you’re here. I thought we could take shifts—”

  “Oh, no. This is not my area.” I held up my hand. “I can’t help you in the way you need. You need to train him. Now. Teach him who’s the alpha dog. If you keep him, and he continues to jump on you, he could injure you.”

  “What do you mean, ‘if I keep him’? Why wouldn’t I?”

  “Think about it for a second. When he’s full grown, he’ll weigh two hundred pounds. More, if you keep overfeeding him treats. He could knock you over with his tail. Besides, full grown, he won’t fit in your car.”

  “I’ll buy a new car,” she said stubbornly.

  I rubbed my eyebrow. “I can’t believe I’m about to suggest this, but if you’re serious, you need to call Caro.”

  “Your sneaky cousin?” Betty slipped Raider another treat.

  I nodded. “She can help you.”

  “You’re okay with me hanging out with your archenemy?”

  Raider had left about a cup of slobber on the kitchen tile. Good grief, Betty could slip and fall if she didn’t keep on top of his drool. “Where do yo
u get this stuff? Caro and I are not archenemies. We’re family. We’re just not speaking.”

  “It’s the same thing, Cookie. But don’t you worry. I won’t spill your secrets.”

  I found the roll of paper towels next to the kitchen sink. I grabbed a handful and mopped up the mess. “Where’s the garbage?”

  Betty pointed to the cabinet under the sink.

  “I don’t have any secrets from Caro.”

  “I thought you were a smart one. We all have secrets.”

  I wanted to argue with her, but I did have a secret, or two. Talking about secrets brought to mind Grey. I needed to get back to the dog park; I had a date in a few hours.

  “We need to get back to the park and gather our merchandise. I’ll need a jump, too.” Shoot, I might need a new battery. “Forget the kennel—get a baby gate and close him in the kitchen.”

  “Great idea. Do you think the final race is over?” she asked.

  “It’s likely. I think the participants are impatient with all the delays.”

  “I can’t believe you left our merchandise alone. Someone could take everything and wipe us out.”

  I glanced at her incredulously. “Excuse me, but I wasn’t the only one who left the premises.”

  “It’s your shop.”

  I sighed. There was no way to win. “Line up the chairs and trap him in the kitchen. Hopefully he’ll only gnaw on the legs until you get back.”

  IT WAS TOUCH AND go, but we made it back to the dog park alive. Hell would have to freeze over before I’d let her drive me again. I shuddered, reliving the terrifying journey. In an effort to keep my sanity on the drive back, I’d blathered on about how Darby and I had followed Gia, and how Malone had dragged her in for questioning.

  By the time we reached the park, it was five o’clock. The area wasn’t deserted, but it wasn’t brimming with people either. We missed the last race by thirty minutes. Darby had barely made it back in time to take pictures.

  An unknown racer named Lucky Lacey had won the heavyweight race. Barney had finished a respectable third place. Not bad for his first year. Luis immediately started to make plans for next year’s race.