“What is it?” he asked.
As I had a lot lately, I related the story of the orphan kid and his plea to his pet ferret.
“Wow,” Lyle said. “I made a great guess, didn’t I?”
“You sure did. And the thing is, once ferrets have the taste of blood, they lust after it. They become real killers, and it’s nearly impossible to stop them.” That part I made up. Vampire ferrets? Move over, bats.
“No! Wow.”
By this time, I’d managed, by sidling slowly as we spoke, to move around enough to make it nearly to the inner hall, with Lyle facing me in the kitchen. The table and chairs were between us.
Time to make my move.
Screaming at the top of my lungs, I grabbed the nearest chair and flung it on the floor in front of me, blocking Lyle’s ability to grab or stab me easily. Then I fled down the hall.
“Bitch!” he shouted. I dared a glance back and saw his shadow move. Bicycling had made his legs limber enough to leap over obstacles as pitiful as a kitchen chair.
I screamed again and headed for the closed door to the den.
I hadn’t locked it again earlier. What was the use, with all the party guests gone? I’d intended to confront Yul with the room’s contents again first thing tomorrow morning.
Now, I was grateful I’d had so much foresight. Not that I’d envisioned how that act would aid my future. I hoped.
Lyle grabbed my arm again as I reached the door, all but wrenching it from its socket. In the dimness, I watched him raise the knife in his other hand.
“No!” I shrieked, and aimed a kick at the spot most strategic for subduing a menacing male.
Lyle’s turn to scream as I wrenched free and threw open the door. I flicked on the lights and was thrilled to see furry movement along the floor. I heard shrill, excited squeals and shouted, “Sic him, ferrets. Kill!”
“No!” Lyle shouted. “They’re at Animal Control.”
“Not now,” I taunted triumphantly, hoping that the plastic still hiding the Hummer hole in the room was as easy to unfasten as he’d implied. Otherwise, if Lyle didn’t flee based on my tale of ferret vampires, I was toast.
But these ferrets were apparently scared by the sudden commotion. They dashed toward us as we scuffled at the door. “No!” Lyle shouted again. He stood still, brandishing his knife at his small, squealing assailants. I prayed for their safety.
“Get him!” I shouted as the ferrets still scampered in confusion. One headed toward Lyle. I held my breath. Would he hurt it?
It climbed onto his sports-shoe-clad foot. He sliced down with the knife. I launched myself at him to knock him off balance. The ferret ran up his leg.
Lyle screamed, shook the small animal off, and fled down the hall.
In time for me to hear what I’d hoped for—the familiar voice of Noralles: “Police!”
Chapter Thirty-two
A LOT OF people besides pet-sitters work on Sunday. Some even work in the middle of Sunday night.
Cops, for example. At three in the morning, they were all over my home, along with the Scientific Investigative Division people, collecting evidence to prove my allegations against Lyle.
It helped that he actually had done as he’d said, and planted evidence against Yul in the bedroom the former obese waiter Stanley Smith shared with the lovely reality show diva Charlotte LaVerne. Lyle had been smart enough to wear his gloves earlier to minimize fingerprints. But he’d taken them off before confronting me in the darkened kitchen. His prints were all over the knife he’d brandished at the ferrets and me.
Right now, I sat outside on a deck chair overlooking my swimming pool, singing out answers to the many questions Detective Noralles slung at me.
Jeff sat beside me in another chair, holding my hand. No matter what he’d done in the past, what he’d hidden, he had come through in the latest pinch. He’d hied over here as quickly as his Escalade could carry him, using his cell phone to alert Noralles on his way. He’d rallied with the cops outside before they’d broken in to end the felonious fracas inside, for they’d heard my screams and Lyle’s, and probably the ferrets’, too.
“So after you got him to admit killing Chad Chatsworth, what happened, Ms. Ballantyne?” With my permission, Detective Noralles was recording my statement.
“I ran,” I said. “And screamed. And then I confronted him in the middle of the house, where I defended myself by kicking him in … er, the genitals.”
I heard both Jeff and Noralles suck in their respective masculine breaths, sensing their sympathy for Lyle, but hey, it had been either him or me.
A chilly November wind wafted over us, but it wasn’t what made me shiver.
“And then what?” Noralles asked.
“Then is about when you came in and hollered ‘Police!’”
While Noralles helped take Lyle into custody, I’d taken custody of the ferrets and secreted them in a dog crate I used for Lexie, upstairs in my apartment.
And then we all pretended they’d never been there.
Jeff’s hand was warm in mine, which helped me recount the ugly stuff I’d suffered through that night.
He was kind enough not to say “I told you so” or call me stupid for ignoring his warnings and heading into the prowler-occupied house.
He did, however, tell me I couldn’t always rely on animals and the element of surprise to save my life. “You’d be a lot better off not getting into these predicaments in the first place,” he said.
I couldn’t disagree. It’d happened twice now, though. Hopefully, I’d never learn if my luck would hold a third time.
When Noralles, SID, and the balance of the official team finally bailed out later in the morning, I called the Universal Sheraton and asked for Charlotte LaVerne’s room.
“Who is this?” demanded a sleepy, irritable female voice.
“It’s Kendra, Charlotte,” I said, and proceeded to relate all that had just transpired.
“Kendra, are you okay?” she shrieked, then followed it up with, “We’ll be right there. Don’t go anywhere, okay? Oh, Kendra, that’s terrible. That’s wonderful. See you in a few.” She hung up, and I figured that if she’d been here, I’d have been subjected to one of her more hysterical hugs.
The former Stanley Smith and she arrived half an hour later, looking disheveled, as if they’d just been awakened and had tossed on their clothes. Sure enough, Charlotte hugged me. I’d already been brazen enough to make coffee in my own former kitchen, and we all grabbed mugs and adjourned to the garish black-and-white furnished living room to talk.
“Then it’s over?” Charlotte exclaimed when I’d finished.
“Looks that way,” I said, eyeing Jeff. He’d stood as we’d spoken, leaning against the wall with arms crossed, even as he continued to hold his cup in one hand and lift it now and then to his lips. His expression stayed inscrutable. Was he mad at me? I hoped not. For this moment, I truly wanted a truce.
A while later, we all promised to stay in touch and share info. And then I went up to my apartment with Yul to retrieve his ferrets.
“Sorry, Kendra,” he said as I handed them over, taking them out of Lexie’s crate. My dog was fascinated by the little ferrets, standing up with her paws against Yul’s legs. They clearly wanted nothing to do with her, though, staying on their master’s chest and shoulders.
“They’re illegal here,” I reminded him. “As if you didn’t know.”
“Yeah, but I have a thing for them,” he said.
Although I’d mentioned all that Lyle had divulged about Yul’s mysterious past, I hadn’t waited for the subject of the revelation to respond. Yul said now, “What Lyle told you was true, to a point. I purposely made myself over. I grew up in L.A. without much ambition, but being a restaurant server in Beverly Hills gave me ideas. So, I went on a diet, did some bodybuilding, and started auditioning. Then I met Charlotte. I know what it looks like, since I haven’t made it in Hollywood yet, but my intent is to be a valuable part of her reality sh
ow production company.”
“No need to explain to me,” I said, though I was glad he had. “But what’s with that strong-and-silent image of yours?”
“A habit I’m trying to break. Not the strong part, but the silent. I became good at keeping my mouth shut while waiting tables. Listening is a whole lot more valuable when you want to learn something. But now I think I have stuff to contribute, too, so I’ll be sure to talk about it more.”
“Good deal,” I said, then finished, “And the ferrets?”
“I’ll take care of them,” he said with a sad sigh.
“You do that. Oh, and from what Ike Janus said, I should actually have the insurance money to repair the den soon. After that, maybe we can fix it up to be more ferret friendly.”
Yul’s gloom was immediately gone. His smile displayed gleaming white teeth that I figured were part of his make-over. “Really?”
“As long as you don’t let anyone know,” I cautioned. “And if you get into trouble with them, you’ll need to indemnify me and hold me harmless.” Okay, so I was still a lawyer. His eager verbal agreement was probably worth the paper it was written on. If I got into trouble as an accessory, then so be it.
After all, those endearing little critters had saved my imperiled life.
A SHORT WHILE later, I gathered up Lexie, and she and I adjourned with Jeff to his house, where Odin greeted us all with gusto.
Did I join Jeff in bed? Well, sure, but just to sleep. Really. We had a lot to discuss, but that wasn’t the time to do it. Or anything more recreational.
Besides, Amanda’s presence still dominated the place … even though she wasn’t there, nor did I hear her key in the door.
The next day, the media went mad over the latest development in the Chad Chatsworth murder. I had to duck dozens of reporters, but that failed to keep my name out of the news.
I talked to Darryl, who chewed me out but good for putting my butt on the line that way.
Sitting outside on Jeff’s back porch for most of the day when not pet-sitting, I watched both dogs romp in the backyard while Jeff stayed inside to do admin work for his P.I. firm on his computer.
I took calls on my cell phone from others I knew, like Avvie Milton, who called to say how glad she was that I was okay—and that I could keep her keys for now since Pansy needed pet-sitting services again next week. And Bill Sergement, Avvie’s boss and lover who was also my onetime boss and lover, called, too. He was also happy to hear I was all right.
Then there was Borden Yurick, Sergement’s former partner. “Did the legal research you did at my office lead to all this excitement?” he asked.
“In a way, though I was mostly researching a couple of quasilegal matters.”
“Quasi?”
“Well, as you know, I can’t actually practice law till I get my license back.” I took a swig of bottled water, then told him of the excellent outcomes I’d helped to reach in Marie Seidforth’s and Jon Arlen’s matters.
“Do you really think a public easement established by the Spanish that long ago would have any effect today?” Borden asked skeptically.
“It doesn’t matter, as long as the parties think so, or that the government or the former settlers’ descendants could have a claim. I got them to at least start talking, hopefully negotiating a mutually satisfactory solution.” With a little potential romance tossed in to sweeten the situation.
“Without litigation?”
I heard what I thought was an accusation in the other lawyer’s voice, but refused to get defensive. “Hell, yes,” I said. “I may be a temporarily defrocked litigator, but these days I like the idea of trying to work things out peacefully.”
“Even if it keeps you from getting a fee?”
I sighed. “Sure, Borden, though someday—”
“You’re my kind of lawyer, Kendra,” he interrupted, sounding gleeful. “When you get your license back, I want you to come work for me. Okay?”
I hesitated. I’d feared this offer was forthcoming and wasn’t sure how to respond. I didn’t know how I’d practice law now, but it definitely wouldn’t be like life at the Marden firm. “We can talk about it,” I said carefully.
Borden laughed. “How about you can practice whatever kind of law you want, bring in your own clients, and help me with those I bring in? I’ll make you a full partner—in a limited liability partnership, of course. That way, our ability to harm each other economically, or be harmed by my retired friends who’ll help us out, will be minimized.”
Hey, that actually sounded enticing. Still …
“And if I want to continue pet-sitting on the side—which takes up some time?”
“Fine.”
“I’ve kind of liked researching people’s problems with their pets and helping them hammer out amicable solutions. Animal dispute resolution, so to speak. What if I become a … pet advocate?”
“Fine.”
Too good to be true. But hey, Borden had reportedly left the Marden firm because he’d lost his marbles. And if that worked in my favor, what the hell?
“I’ll come and talk to you about it,” I told him. “See what we can work out.”
“Fine,” he said yet again. “And when is it that you get your law license back?”
“If all goes well, in less than two weeks,” I told him.
Did I dare hope, this time, that all would go well?
Epilogue
OKAY, I HAD to insert an epilogue. I mean, I figure anyone interested in these latest exploits might also be interested in whether I passed the ethics exam.
Of course, anyone who’d read this far would already anticipate the answer. Hell, yes. I knocked the top off it.
And got my law license back at last.
Did I accept Borden’s offer to join his firm? Absolutely. I mean, what lawyer worth her litigator’s skills wouldn’t want to practice law in a way that was fun?
Freedom! Flexibility! A senior partner who might be a modicum mad, but hey, who of us hasn’t had a fleeting urge to chuck all that’s onerous and start over again, smelling the roses along the courtroom corridors? Metaphorically, of course.
So what came next? I won’t spoil it for you, other than to say I now had a corner office at the former restaurant on Ventura Boulevard.
And with the sensible solutions I’d helped Fran Korwald, Marie Seidforth, and Jon Arlen achieve, I was certain I’d found a new calling, especially when I could leap into a courtroom to argue in a lawsuit, too.
Pet advocacy. Not just for the pets, but for their owners as well. Animal dispute resolution.
Would solutions always come so easily and work out so well? They would if I could help it, though realistically I knew I’d have a few failures now and then.
Did I intend to give up pet-sitting? Hey, I’d been having the time of my life learning all about potbellied pigs and pythons as well as cats and dogs. Scaling it down, though, might be obligatory once I plunked on my advocacy hat and took up tilting at legal windmills for my new breed of clients.
Then there were Yul’s ferrets. I pretended that the two in my house weren’t there, at least for legal purposes. When I popped in now and then to see how my tenants were getting along, I included their pets in my social call. After all, the ferrets had helped me deal with a damned difficult situation with Lyle. And they’d actually never given me any trouble, notwithstanding how I’d maligned them with a vicious reputation as minivampires.
They still resided in my now fully restored den. Yes, Ike Janus finally got his insurance company to come through.
As to the five ferrets who’d been arrested, I intended to exercise my pet advocacy on their behalf. Lyle had set those poor ferrets up for a fall. They’d stay incarcerated until his trial, since they remained extraordinary evidence. But at least they’d been exonerated as killers. When they were no longer needed around here, I’d ensure they were handled appropriately by a ferret rescue organization.
And if, someday, Yul happened to find five extra fe
rrets hunting for a home … Well, if Charlotte and he were still my tenants, we’d see. But my inclination was to plead ignorance.
What would I do about Jeff Hubbard, P.I. and sometime secretive S.O.B.? That remained the chief conundrum of them all. Especially since Amanda came crying back to him yet again when I was present, claiming the stalker remained on her trail. Maybe it was true. Maybe not. But if I kept Jeff in my life, I’d still have Amanda to contend with. And I’d no doubt she intended to try to keep Jeff in her life any way she could.
Could I handle it? Did I want to?
Well, I didn’t have to decide everything at the same time I commenced this newest chapter of my life.
And when it came down to it, Jeff wasn’t the only one in this fledgling relationship who hadn’t tossed onto the table every little skeleton from the past.
So, as long as Odin needed pet-sitting, and Lexie and he remained pals, and as long as I needed the services of a premier P.I., preferably gratis, I decided to keep on seeing him.
For now, at least.
“Hey, Kendra, are you through daydreaming yet?” demanded Darryl. I’d brought Lexie to the Doggie Indulgence Day Resort to play, so I could enlighten Darryl about the latest events in my life, and he’d had to leave me in his office while he greeted a new canine client.
I stood up from the comfortable chair facing his cluttered desk, and Lexie bounded into the office after him. “Sure am,” I told him. “You got any more customers here with legal problems relating to their pets?”
“Do I ever!” he said. “Come on into the kitchen for a cup of coffee, and I’ll tell you the latest.”
It was a lulu, and I couldn’t wait to meet the poor pet owner and sink my teeth into his doggy dilemma.
Nothing to Fear But Ferrets Page 24