Divas, Diamonds & Death: a Danger Cove Pet Sitter Mystery (Danger Cove Mysteries Book 15)

by Sally J. Smith

  A lot of the kids in town referred to this unfortunate woman as Dumpster-Diving Dottie. She couldn't keep a job, and now it looked like she couldn't even take advantage of a windfall. Maybe Dottie just needed a bit more help than others.

  She wasn't even very good at panhandling. A while back Tino and I had noticed her, Doogie, and her anything helps sign hanging out on a street corner. After we'd eaten lunch at The Apple Tree, we'd ordered a turkey sandwich to go and taken it over to her. She opened it up, took a sniff of it, declared it, "freakin' diet food," and tossed it into a nearby trash receptacle, not even offering it to Doogie.

  As we walked away, she'd hollered after us what a couple of cheapskates we were, and, "What? You can't spare a twenty or so for a poor homeless woman and her little mutt?"

  It bothered Fran that by Dottie putting herself at risk of arrest, she was also risking poor little Doogie. And pups at risk were what Fran was in the rescue business to avoid.

  Dottie handing the dog over to the shelter was the best thing she could have done for him. I knew it, and Fran knew it, which was probably why Fran had taken him from her without even blinking an eye.

  I was glad to see her turn him over as other homeless folks had done for their pets in the past. Someone would come and take him to a forever home and lavish love and puppy toys on him.

  Dottie looked more angry than sad. "Now you take care of him, Frannie, else I'll come back here and kick your butt." And with that, she turned, took hold of her grocery cart, and began to move away.

  At some point in the conversation, Sabrina had apparently returned and had been eavesdropping because she asked, "Is that true?"

  "What?" I said.

  "The town raised money for that miserable woman to have a place to stay whilst they were getting back on their feet?"

  I nodded. "We try to watch out for our own here in Danger Cove."

  "That's so nice," she said and sounded as if she meant it. "A town where the people are that kind would be a good place for someone to settle down if she wanted to step out of the limelight. Don't you think? I mean clean air, lots of nice, attractive people..."

  Fran narrowed her eyes, and I could tell she was biting her tongue. "I'm taking Doogie up to the main house. Poor little guy smells like a trash can, ya know," Fran said. "Think when you and Tino get back on dog wash duty you might give him a good rinse?"

  "I will," I said.

  She walked away with Doogie, passing Tino on the way.

  Tino smiled at her and took a second to scratch the top of Doogie's head. "Hey there," he said, his Latin accent trilling the R. He'd only been eight years old when his mother brought him and his sisters to the U.S. from San Salvador. It hadn't been an easy road for a single mother with three young daughters and one little boy. But Tino, at twenty-eight, only one year older than I and in the middle between his three sisters, had grown into the kind of man Jimmy John called "a real stand-up guy."

  "I've always wanted to someday trade this security guard uniform for a real police badge," he'd once told me.

  And I hoped his dream would come true.

  "Hey, chica," he said, dropping an arm around my shoulder and kissing the top of my head. "Wait'll you hear what's been going on over at the psycho's RV."

  "Don't you mean psychic?"

  "Maybe. Or maybe I really do mean psycho. Either way, you're going to find this fascinating."

  CHAPTER FOUR

  "I went up to the lady's RV when I heard about the intruder to make sure everything was okay. The nephew, Paco…" He stopped and looked at me to see if I knew who he was talking about.

  "The younger guy in the black suit?"

  "Yes." He went on. "He was there with another man, older, in a tan suit."

  "That was Carlos, Sabrina's ex-husband. What was he doing there?"

  "Well, when I walked up he was coming out of the RV and had the little pig in his arms."

  "Oh, no, Rosie?" I thought back to what the ex-husband had said about hating Rosie, and I was suddenly afraid for her. "He didn't leave with her, did he?"

  "No. Are you kidding? Paco, he started yelling like a linebacker, which was really good because this other guy was holding the little pig like a football. You know, pigskin?"

  "Tino, this is serious."

  "Paco yelled for me to help, and I did. Between the two of us, the older guy—you said, Carlos?" I nodded. "He handed the pig over to me and started to leave."

  "But Rosie's safe?"

  Tino nodded. "I held on to Carlos, but Paco said to let him go. But then he laid into him again, screaming something about an ultimate betrayal. How this Carlos guy, his own uncle, ruined Paco's parents' lives in some sleazy business deal. Paco knocked him down."

  "He did?"

  "And then Carlos gets up and starts yelling that Paco's ignorant and hasn't got a clue about what really happened."

  "And then what?"

  "And then the other one comes, the big man…"

  "Evan. The bodyguard?"

  "And he takes Carlos by the arm and marches him away."

  * * *

  By four in the afternoon things were winding down.

  Sabrina finished her readings and interviews and asked Jimmy John and Tino to escort her to the coach so she could rest.

  Both men looked a little surprised at the way she hooked her arms with theirs and waltzed them across the big grassy area in front of Fran's place then up the driveway toward where the motor coach was parked.

  As they walked away, I heard Tino remark, "That's a really cool RV you have, Miss Ramirez. I never saw one like it before."

  "Did you call my motor coach an 'RV'?" She laughed. "Why, young man, thank you so much. I had it made especially for me and my Rosie, you know. Customized to my most…special…needs." Without even turning around to look, I knew Sabrina was batting her eyes at him and simpering. Her voice had lowered at least an octave and gone all breathy.

  Also, without looking I absolutely knew that Tino's face had gone bright red. And that the choking sound I heard had come from Jimmy John.

  After about ten or fifteen minutes Tino came back to help me clean up and put away the tubs and hoses and shampoos we'd used for the dog wash station.

  "So what'd you think about Sabrina's,"—I laughed—"RV?"

  "What? Isn't that what it is?"

  "Sure, if that's what you want to call a motor coach she's probably spent a cool million or so on."

  "Whoa." He stopped in the middle of lifting an empty tub. "A million dollars? People really do that? Spend that kind of money on an RV?"

  I shrugged. "It's where she lives when she's on the road. Guess she wants to be comfortable."

  We finished and walked back over to the main house where Vader had stayed while we finished with the dog baths.

  Fran and Jimmy John were standing under the overhang on the front porch, and from the level of their voices, they weren't happy.

  "Now come on, Fran. Don't be weird," Jimmy was saying.

  "Me? And I was thinking you were the one being weird—I mean, what else would you call going out on a date with another woman?" That was a screech if I'd ever heard one, and her accent was so prevalent, she sounded like a character straight out of a Coen brothers movie.

  Tino and I both stopped mid-step at the corner of the house.

  "Aw, Fran." Jimmy's voice was laced with exasperation. "It's not a date."

  "Really? If I was going out to dinner alone with a handsome television star who asked me to help him relieve his 'tensions,' what would you call it?"

  He didn't answer her, and while we couldn't see them, it was pretty simple to figure out just exactly what was going on as the sound of footsteps crossing the porch preceded the squeak, then slamming, of the screen door.

  After a few beats, we heard Jimmy John sigh. "Aw, hell."

  That was when my cell phone rang. "Dang it!" I reached for it, but Jimmy John's head was already poking around the corner of the porch. It was him calling me.

/>   "What're you two doing? Eavesdropping?"

  "Uh," Tino began.

  "Sorry, Jimmy John. We didn't mean to intrude. It was just that you two were pretty much yelling."

  "Yeah, well." He walked over to the steps and came around to meet us. "Lizzie, you and Tino got anything going on tonight?"

  "No," I said.

  Tino shuffled his feet. "I picked up a shift at Two Mile Beach tonight. You know BS 24-Hour Security was lucky enough to pick up a short-term subcontractor stint from the state just to patrol around the there during summer vacation. Keep the kids off the lighthouse property at night. Don't you know how terrible it would be if someone manages to have any fun out there?" When Jimmy just gave him a look, Tino added. "What do you need, Jimmy?"

  "My granddaughter," Jimmy John said. "Well, it's not me who needs her."

  "Who? Who needs me?" I was suddenly suspicious.

  "Sabrina." Jimmy shrugged.

  I put it all together. "Honestly, Jimmy John? You're going out with that woman?"

  "Don't start. Fran's already beat me up about it." He sighed. "Lizzie, it's no big deal. The woman's all upset about her ex-husband showing up and stirring things up. She just wants to go somewhere nice and quiet and sort of"—he stopped and screwed up his face like he was looking for the perfect word—"unwind."

  I did my best to keep a straight face. "And Fran's too busy to join you?"

  He frowned.

  "Oh," I went on, "not busy. Just too tired?"

  He still said nothing.

  "Oh, of course. Her name wasn't on the invitation."

  He pursed his lips.

  "Was it?"

  He shook his head.

  "Jimmy John," I began then switched to—"Granddad, the Critter Communicator's looking to get a special kind of message across to you. If you know what I mean."

  "Nah." He waved me off. "It's not like that. She just asked me because she wants to hear all about my exploits from back in the day when I was with the network."

  "Oh," I said. "Right. I bet she does."

  "That's enough of that, Lizzie."

  I'd said what I had to say, so I asked. "Why did you want to know my plans for the night?"

  He hurried to say, "She needs a pig sitter."

  Tino laughed.

  "Me?" I drew back in surprise. "What about those two guys who follow her around? Paco and Evan?"

  Jimmy John shrugged. "How should I know? She didn't mention them. All I know is she doesn't want to leave little Rosie all by herself in the coach while she's out…"

  "Unwinding?" I couldn't help being a little snarky.

  "Can you stay in the coach with Rosie until Sabrina gets back or not?" Jimmy had lost his patience with me.

  "Do it, Lizzie. You need to see the RV." Tino couldn't seem to help himself. "Man,"—he turned to Jimmy John—"did you believe the inside of that RV?"

  Jimmy gave Tino a puzzled look. "RV? Son, an RV is what you take on a camping trip. An RV doesn't have a jetted tub or custom-design monitored security system or perfumed silk sheets—"

  "Silk sheets? Jimmy, how do you know she has silk sheets? Or that they're perfumed?" I blurted out.

  He had the grace to look ashamed. "Not quite as bad as you think, Lizzie, but she did take the time to show off the place to me. She said, just in case I was really tired when we came back from dinner."

  I narrowed my eyes to slits. "You better watch out, Mister. She's got you on her radar."

  "You think?" Jimmy, the very soul of irony, scratched his jaw. His face was mostly still unlined in his late seventies, grey eyes still sharp and steely, a full head of short-cropped grey hair, firm jawline, humor and confidence in his expression—my granddad was still a fit and virile man. And nobody knew it better than Jimmy John Jones himself. "I can't imagine why she'd be interested in an old guy like me."

  "Yeah." I punched his arm. "I just bet you can't."

  * * *

  Rosie turned out to be nothing short of an utter delight. Before I went over to the "RV," I'd gone into the main house, spent a while with Fran trying to calm her down—which I did by showing her the day's tally for donations, adding up to over $5,000. No wonder her mood improved. Then I picked up Vader, the world's most brilliant pug.

  Vader and I showed up at Sabrina's door a little before six.

  She opened it wide and stood back for us to enter. "Welcome." Sabrina swept one hand with long lavender nails before her, and we stepped up into the coach.

  It was a sure thing I'd failed to keep my jaw from gaping. I took a long look around the place. Tino and Jimmy John hadn't been exaggerating. The inside of the motor coach was nothing short of opulent. Fit for a queen or at the very least a TV celebrity.

  Rosie lounged in her own little bed. It was round and soft and raised two or three feet off the floor by brass legs with heart-shaped feet. The quilted top of the purple cover was embroidered so elaborately that the ladies of the Danger Cove Quilting Guild would have drooled over it.

  Rosie looked adorable in a tiny purple PJ top with pink rosettes. Her ears perked up when she noticed Vader, her little eyes bright and focused.

  Vader began to squirm. I set him on the floor, and he promptly took the three padded steps from the floor to where Rosie reclined on her luxurious bed.

  They sniffed each other all over then cuddled up together.

  I thought it was the sweetest thing I'd ever seen.

  But Sabrina didn't seem to think so. She took two quick steps and laid her hand on Vader's small head, closing her eyes. "Well, all right, I suppose," she said, the sibilant S resonating in her speech. "But you need to know I'll be keeping an eye on you, young fellow."

  Vader lifted his head and twisted it, and I could have sworn he nodded before laying it back down. Rosie scooted even closer to him.

  "Your young man is crazy about my Rosie." Sabrina whirled, throwing a red cashmere-looking pashmina in front of her and over one shoulder causing me to notice for the first time that she'd dressed for the hunt. A tight black sheath, layered over in lace and sequins, rode just above her knees. Her legs were covered in sheer black nylons with hearts and vines climbing from the ankles up. Black stiletto pumps defined her calves. The incredible diamond choker that matched Rosie's collar sparkled against her neck. Alarms sounded in my head. Oh goodness. Poor Fran. She was short and plump with unruly carrot-colored hair. And as much as I thought she was beautiful, she was nowhere near the leggy, classic beauty Sabrina Ramirez was.

  I swallowed hard then asked, "Vader?" and looked back at Vader and Rosie, who were now sleeping, both snoring softly.

  "Yes," she said. "But he's assured me his intentions are strictly honorable. He thinks of her as a baby sister." She paused. "I don't know what time to tell you I'll be back. Make yourself at home. Sleep if you're tired. Rosie won't require walking. You're here just to keep her from being lonely. Should be one of the easiest pet sitting assignments you've ever had."

  A knock came on the door, and I stepped aside so Sabrina could answer it. Jimmy John waited a few feet back from the motor coach. I was dismayed to see he'd spruced up for the hussy, wearing his summer sport coat over a snazzy rose-colored silk shirt. He'd even gone so far as to put some kind of manly goop in his hair.

  "Gee," I remarked, looking over Sabrina's shoulder. "Don't you look nice."

  He couldn't have missed the snarky tone but didn't rise to it, instead reaching a hand up to help Sabrina down the steps.

  Sabrina latched onto his arm, looking up at him adoringly. "So happy to see you," she said. "I spent a long time getting ready. Just for you. How'd I do?"

  Jimmy John shot me a quick look before saying, "You look very nice."

  She pouted. "Just nice?"

  "Well…" he started, but was interrupted as a man charged them. Jimmy John reacted instinctively, pushing Sabrina behind him with one arm and swinging with the other. He caught the man square on the jaw, laying him out flat. It was all over in less than a minute.

 
; As the dust settled around the man on the ground, Evan, the burly bodyguard, seemed to appear out of nowhere and reached down, hauling the attacker to his feet.

  "Really?" It was Sabrina. She sounded more put out than frightened. "Would you just give it up already, Carlos?"

  That was when I recognized the same man who'd caused such a ruckus earlier in the day—Sabrina's ex-husband.

  The man rubbed his jaw and glared at Jimmy John, who shook his head. "I'm real sorry, man. All I saw was someone coming at us. I didn't know it—"

  "Forget it," Carlos remarked, his accent flavoring the words dramatically. "It was my mistake."

  Evan had Carlos's arm in one of his big paws. He physically turned the smaller man. "I'll take care of this, Sabrina," he said.

  Carlos looked around in alarm as he was all but dragged around the side of the motor coach until I couldn't see the two men any longer.

  "Well," Sabrina smoothed her skirt and latched on to Triple J's arm again. "Shall we?"

  Jimmy John had a surprised look on his face. "Well, sure. I guess. If you're still up to it."

  She laughed. "Up to it? Darling, I'm more than just up to it. I'm down for it. Let's go."

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Sabrina's motor coach was indeed a marvel of modern technology. Even the toilet was computerized, and Jimmy John was totally right about the silk sheets—they reeked of Chanel No. 5. I had to admit it bothered me a bit he knew about them.

  About six forty-five, the door chimes—yes, I did say door chimes on a motor coach—rang out a mellow instrumental version of Tommy James's "Crystal Blue Persuasion," which was kind of Zen and soothing, and nothing like my friend Caroline's doorbell that pounded out "We Are the Champions."

  I hadn't been expecting anyone and didn't think Sabrina would bother to ring her own doorbell, so I had a quick look at the monitor of the security camera angled down at the door. Looked like a man holding a paper bag. Looked like someone I didn't know.

  After what had happened earlier in the day, I picked up Rosie and took her to the back bedroom area—just in case. Vader followed us in, and I shut both of them behind the closed door before heading back up front.