We ambled toward the back of the store. I’d snagged a box of eye drops when I spotted Lenny and Pickles in the oral hygiene aisle. Odd, I would have thought after Pickles’s loss yesterday they would have left town with their tails tucked between their legs.
Lenny looked like he was on the back end of a weekend bender with a bad case of bed-head, wrinkled clothes, and a puffy, red face. He was so busy filling his handheld shopping basket with mouthwash, he didn’t notice our approach.
“Hey there, Lenny.”
He jumped at the sound of my voice like a package of pop rocks dropped into a glass of soda.
“Are you following me?” he groused.
I held up the eye drops. “Nope.” I wanted to ask him why he was so paranoid. “What’s with all the mouthwash?” I asked instead.
He pulled the basket to his side, out of my direct line of vision. “It’s on sale. I like to stock up.”
Wow. Six containers’ worth? Who did he think he was kidding?
I’d read an article once about a recovering alcoholic who drank mouthwash to get smashed. I had a strong suspicion Lenny might fall into that category. That sure would explain his behavior, the minty fresh breath, and lack of alcohol bottles in his car.
Missy stretched her thick neck sniffing the air toward Pickles who sat next to Lenny’s feet. Pickles tilted his head and returned her greeting.
“Sit, girl.” Missy looked up at me as if I was punishing her. She just wanted to sniff her friend close up. I pointed to the floor. She obeyed, but I could tell she was miffed.
“How’s he doing?” I asked.
Lenny frowned at his pooch. “He’s depressed.”
I hated to break it to him, but he didn’t appear any better. “I’m sorry to hear that. Look, I hope you don’t mind but I talked to Dr. Darling about Pickles’s possible condition.”
“What condition?” He asked with all the warmth of a junkyard dog.
“His depression. It’s the real deal. The doctor gave me a pamphlet explaining treatment options. I have the brochure at the boutique if you’re interested. I thought you might find it helpful.”
“I don’t need your help,” he barked.
I held up my hand. “I’ll let you get back to your . . . shopping.”
If he wasn’t drunk yet, he was about to be.
Missy and I skedaddled to the next aisle. As I reached for a container of hand sanitizer, the hair on the back of my neck bristled. I felt someone behind me. I turned around to find Lenny sneering at me.
A little unnerved to find him following me, I said the first thing that came to mind. “I’m surprised you’re still in town. I thought everyone left yesterday.” Antagonizing him wasn’t the smartest plan.
“The police arrested Gia. I thought I’d stop by the station and tell them what I know.”
He didn’t fool me for a minute with that phony, helpful smile plastered to his broad face. He was truly giddy about Gia’s plight.
“I thought she’d been taken in for questioning. That’s not the same as being arrested.”
He shrugged. “It’s only a matter of time.”
“Didn’t you already give a statement at the dog park?”
“Sure. But they didn’t ask what I knew about Gia and Richard.” He brushed past me harder than he needed to as he moved down the aisle toward the cold remedies.
“So, where were you when Richard was shot?” I know, I know. The smart move was to walk away. But today I was living on the edge. He was the only suspect I didn’t have an alibi for.
He stopped and slowly faced me. He glowered with squinty eyes. “You know, you keep asking me questions like you’re investigating. You sure you’re not with the cops?”
I forced a laugh. “Nope. Just curious. I found him, you know.”
“I heard.”
“One more thing. I don’t remember seeing you after the argument between you and Gia.”
“Unless you were standing in the line for the men’s john, you wouldn’t have.” His offhanded tone didn’t ring true.
I whistled. “That must have been some line.” There were two areas with portable bathrooms—by the spectator section, and the other in the food area adjacent to the parking lot. I wondered which line he’d been in.
“You know, I passed the bathrooms by the racetrack a number of times. I don’t remember seeing you.”
He dropped a bottle of cold medicine into his basket. “I was in the line by the food.”
Which was closer to where Richard was shot. Another flimsy alibi that was all too easy to shoot down.
Suddenly, Lenny’s bloodshot eyes lit up. “I’m not the only one still in town,” he chirped, pointing over my shoulder. “There’s Richard’s girlfriend.”
Not surprisingly, Fallon Keller made a beeline to the first aid section. Her face was still rockin’ a number of cuts and bruises. She looked in our direction and froze. A weak smile tugged at the corners of her mouth.
I smiled back and waved. She lowered her head and then ducked behind an endcap of sunscreen.
“What do you think she’s still doing here?” Lenny asked.
Other than buying bandages? “I think she’s worried about Zippy.”
“Why would she care?”
“She doesn’t believe he’s safe with Gia.”
Speaking of safe. It dawned on me as Lenny and I watched Fallon sneak around the drugstore that it was possible they were both still in town for reasons altogether different.
The filmmaker’s camera.
I PAID FOR MY items and left Lenny and Fallon in the store. After my sparring match with Lenny, I felt positively energetic. I parked in front of the boutique and unloaded Missy. Since it was Monday, Betty wasn’t scheduled to come in until one.
I unlocked the shop then propped open the front door. Missy waddled inside. She turned, double-checking I was right behind her.
“I’m coming. Go lay down.”
She headed to her bed behind the counter.
I moved as quickly as possible. In a matter of minutes, I tugged the last tote out of the Jeep. That’s when I saw Fallon a block away, heading in my direction. I tried to get her attention, but she slipped inside the bank without noticing me.
I stood smack-dab in the middle of the sidewalk and weighed my options. As much as I wanted to pepper her with questions, it was time to get my behind in gear and restock the merchandise. I trudged inside the store and kicked the door shut behind me.
I lined up the totes against the wall across from the register. I removed the lids and tossed them in a pile.
I grabbed an armful of dog sweaters to hang on the sale rack in the back. I was absorbed in the task when the door opened. Mr. TV strolled inside. He wore perfectly pressed chinos and a green button-up shirt. No blazer. No cameraman. Interesting.
I stepped out from behind the rack. “Hello.”
He removed his aviator sunglasses. “Good morning.” His cheerful tone caught me off guard. He examined a couture dog dress prominently displayed toward the front window. “Are all of the clothes made by local designers?”
“Some of them. If you’re looking for something specific, I’d be happy to help you find it.” It dawned on me that I didn’t know if he had a pet.
A half smile tugged at his mouth. “Nice shirt.”
“I like to make a statement.”
“I noticed.” He tucked his glasses in his shirt pocket. “I didn’t realize until I’d arrived, Laguna Beach is very dog-friendly.”
You’d think a guy like him wouldn’t need small talk before getting to the point. “More registered dogs than kids. But as the king of research, I’m sure you already knew that.”
I returned to unpacking and pulled out the last of the dog clothes from the storage container. One down, three more to go.
“How long have you been in town?” I asked.
“Not long. Have you heard from Detective Malone today?” he asked.
I guess small talk was over and we’d mo
ved on to the main event.
“Nope. Contrary to what you may believe, we’re not in each other’s back pockets.”
“That’s good. Otherwise your fiancé might find that objectionable.”
I carried the tote full of chew toys, balls, and other play items to the display baskets up front. “I guess he would.”
I dropped to one knee and made quick work of unloading the storage container. He stood nearby, watching quietly. I tossed the last stuffed animal in its appropriate basket.
“Where’s the rock you were wearing yesterday?”
My heart skipped a beat. He was observant; I’d give him that.
I looked up and lied through my teeth. “I dropped it off for its annual inspection and cleaning.” I stood. “I’m sure you didn’t stop by to talk about my engagement ring.”
He nodded. “I wanted to give you a courtesy heads-up. I’m picking up the story where Olivia left off.”
“Okey dokey.” I picked up the tote and carried it back to where the other empty containers sat.
MacAvoy followed me. “You don’t seem to understand what that means.”
I sucked in a breath well aware of what it meant, but I knew there wasn’t anything I could do about it. Most of all, there was no way in hell I was about to confess to someone I hardly knew that Grey and I had broken up last night.
I stacked the empty totes inside one another. “Am I supposed to be surprised that you’re taking up the charge to end illegal gambling at wiener races?” I asked with more than a hint of impatience in my voice. I knew I was being awful, but I didn’t know any other way to get him to leave.
His jaw tightened. I’d struck a nerve. “That includes Hagan Stone.”
I shrugged. “Congratulations. The story has Pulitzer written all over it.”
He crossed his arms. Frown lines edged the corners of his eyes. “Your boyfriend is up to his elbows in this mess.”
He had no idea. “Look, I get it. You have a job to do. Like I told you yesterday, Grey is a big boy. He can take care of himself.”
“What about you?”
I squared my shoulders. “What about me?”
“If your name comes up, I can’t overlook it.”
I blinked. I had to have heard him wrong. He thought I was involved somehow?
I side-stepped the lids on the floor and stood in front of MacAvoy. I locked eyes with him. “I wouldn’t expect you to. But let me be perfectly clear. It won’t.”
An adversarial silence filled the air. Missy must have noticed the coldness in my tone. She waddled out from behind the counter to check out what was happening. I motioned for her to come to me.
“If you’ve gotten everything off your chest, I’d like to get back to work.”
Without a word, he slipped on his glasses and left.
I squatted next to Missy and absently scratched her back. “That man is a pain in the butt. I wish he’d go back to wherever he came from.”
I pushed out a frustrated sigh. I’d basically declared war on MacAvoy. Stupid move on my part. A sensible person would apologize. I could be sensible. It just wasn’t going to happen today.
Chapter Thirty-One
I NEEDED A DISTRACTION. Who better to distract me than Darby? I retrieved my purse from behind the counter and pulled out my cell. I paused. Why call when she was probably right next door? I shoved my phone in my back pocket and popped outside to see if her studio lights were on.
From the sidewalk, I could see the closed sign hanging on her door.
“Darn.”
I spun around and bumped into Fallon Keller, knocking her drink out of her hand. Pink lemonade flowed down the sidewalk.
“Geez, I’m sorry. I keep running into you don’t I?”
Fallon held out her hands to protect herself from further abuse. “You don’t seem to watch where you’re going.”
I cringed. She was right. “Did that spill on you?” I quickly snatched up the cup, lid, and straw.
She inspected her purple knit blouse and white capri pants. “I don’t think so.”
I grabbed her by the elbow, ushering her toward the boutique. “Let me replace that. I have bottled water and soft drinks.”
She allowed me to lead her inside the shop. I left her up front by the interactive toys.
“What would you like?” I tossed the garbage in the trash behind the counter. Missy lifted her head long enough to confirm I was back.
“Water is fine.” Fallon tucked her purse under her arm. “I saw that reporter leave your shop.”
“He was checking out the store,” I fibbed. I break up with Grey, and suddenly I’m a proficient liar. The irony wasn’t lost on me.
I hurried toward the office, grabbed a cold bottle of water from the mini-fridge, and returned with her drink. “Feel free to look around. Watch out for the storage containers. I’m still unpacking from the weekend.”
She gripped the bottle with one hand, but didn’t open it. “I saw you at the drugstore. You were talking to Lenny.”
I glanced at her and said, “We were discussing Pickles.” A half-truth. I had questions of my own and didn’t want to scare her off before I got the chance to ask them.
Her eyes darted around the shop. “He was really mad after the race.”
I smiled. That was an understatement. “Were you able to see Zippy yesterday?”
She nodded. “He was with the ladies at the front desk. They promised to watch out for him.”
Sally and Lorraine worked the information desk at the police station. Not only were they missing a sense of humor, they carried guns. If they said they’d look after Zippy, they meant it.
Fallon moved thoughtfully around the front of the shop. “I checked out your booth at the race. I saw a medium-sized animal-print pet carrier. Do you still have it?”
I tilted my head to the side. “I haven’t unpacked it yet. Are you interested?”
She nodded. “I’d like to buy it.”
I motioned at the display of dog carriers less than a foot from where she stood. “I have one exactly like it up front by the window. To your left.”
“No,” she snapped.
I blinked in surprised at her sudden hostility.
She regained her composure and smiled shakily. “I want the one that was at the booth.”
Okay. This was interesting. What was so important that she had to have the one she saw at the Dachshund Dash? I refrained from pointing out how strange she was acting.
“Are you sure it has to be that one? It’s been in the storage bin. The carrier is soft-sided so it might be damaged.” I didn’t believe for a second there was anything wrong with that carrier.
She shook her head adamantly. “I’d rather buy the one from the race.”
It was clear from her tone she was not budging. “Whatever you say.”
I gingerly made my way to the last two full storage containers and dragged the one with the dog beds and carriers behind the counter.
I coaxed her back to a topic of my choice. “So do you and Lenny know each other well? He was surprised you were still in town.”
“I’m sure he was.” She pressed her lips together and didn’t elaborate.
I pulled out the carrier and surreptitiously looked it over. I didn’t notice anything unusual about it. I had no idea why she was so emphatic that she had this specific one.
She sidled up to the counter and placed her unopened water bottle on the glass. “Can you hurry? I’m sort of in a rush.”
Since when? I returned to the counter, but didn’t hand it to her right away. Fallon’s gaze was fixated on the carrier like a cat stalking a flashlight beam. I wouldn’t have been surprised if she suddenly pounced on me and yanked the item out of my hand.
It occurred to me she could be plotting a dognapping and the carrier was how she planned to smuggle Zippy out from under Gia’s nose.
“Wasn’t there a blanket with it?” she asked.
“That’s sold separately.” I had to admit that
was one of Betty’s excellent ideas—stick matching blankets inside all the carriers.
“I’d like that too.”
“The same one from the race?”
She nodded.
I don’t know why I bothered to ask; I knew the answer.
Something wasn’t adding up. If she was scheming to steal Zippy, it wouldn’t matter which carrier she purchased. No, I was definitely missing a piece of the puzzle.
I set the dog carrier next to her bottle. I turned slowly, keeping my eye on Fallon for as long as I could before turning my back to her. I dug though the plastic tote and found the blanket at the bottom. I also noticed a memory card. I tucked it in my front pocket. It had to be Darby’s. She was the only one—
Oh. My. Gosh. I knew who killed the girl with the dachshund tattoo. I froze, bent at the waist, breathing in the heady aroma of my own fear.
“Did you find it?” she asked.
My heart raced as I straightened. “I sure did.”
I took measured steps back to the register. All I had to do was sell her the items and lock the door behind her. Then I could call Malone.
I passed the blanket to her. “Is this what you wanted?”
Missy snored at my feet. One more reminder to keep calm and my head clear.
Her terse nod was all the confirmation I needed. I rang up the two items. “Your total is one-sixty-eight.”
She blinked. “One hundred and sixty-eight dollars?”
“I take all major credit cards.” If I could get her to pay with credit, it could be helpful to Malone.
She pulled out a card from her purse and handed it to me. The door swung open, and Lenny stumbled inside.
“You got a lot of crap in your store.” He staggered toward us.
I reined in my annoyance at his ill-timing. He was just drunk enough to get us both killed. I’d never look at mouthwash the same again. “Did you come by for that pamphlet?”
“Yeah.”
I gripped the credit card tightly in my hand, the edges pressed deep into my palm. “Just give me a minute and I’ll be right with you.”
“I’ve got plenty of time.”
Lenny stared at Fallon. She returned his stare with one equally intense. I heard Fallon’s sharp intake. I noticed her grip tightened on the soft handle of the carrier. Lenny’s gaze followed her hand.
The Girl With the Dachshund Tattoo Page 21