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

by Sally J. Smith

  Jimmy made a noise. I was pretty sure he was growling. "Leave the kid alone, why don't you, Lester. He's a good kid. What's wrong with you? He wouldn't have called it in if he took the collar."

  Marshall turned toward the ocean and looked up at the sky in an overly dramatic pose before turning back. "Maybe," he said. "But I'll be keeping an eye on you all the same."

  Tino sighed and said under his breath, "There's a big surprise."

  Marshall took a step closer to Tino. "What's that, Mr. Morales? You got something to say to me?"

  "Rosie! Rosie!" It was Sabrina Ramirez coming across the beach in long strides, the shapes of two men behind her—one, the bigger one, was likely Evan the bodyguard and the other her nephew, Paco. She reached us and took Rosie from me, holding her against her chest like a mother cradling a newborn in her arms. Tiny little kisses showered the piglet's head and face. Rosie's mouth was open—I thought it was a smile—and that was probably the only reason Sabrina didn't kiss her on the mouth this time.

  She reached out one hand and grasped Tino's. "Oh, young man. Are you the one who found her? I can never fully repay you, but Paco will take your information and a reward will be coming your way. We'll be leaving in the morning."

  "Leaving?" Marshall said. "But the diamonds are missing. Don't you need to stay until they're found?"

  Sabrina laughed. It seemed as if now that she had her Rosie, she didn't have another care in the world. "Diamonds?" She released Tino's hand and waved hers above her head. "You'll have to send them to me if you find them. I have obligations, contractual obligations. I'm in high demand, you know."

  "Yeah, but didn't you tell us earlier the collar was worth thirty grand? Thirty grand and you're not even hanging around to find it?" It was obvious he was stumped.

  "If I have my Rosie," Sabrina said, "I have everything I need."

  "Detective Marshall!" The call came from up the beach a ways. "Detective, come quick."

  We all turned around and watched Officer Fields running, well sort of running—Fred Fields was a little out of shape for a police officer due to his extreme fondness for pastries. He'd apparently been canvassing up the beach.

  The urgency in his call as well as the fact a guy in his shape was moving that fast made us all head down the beach toward him, all except for Sabrina, Evan, and Paco, who stayed where they were, hovering over Rosie. Jimmy John even reached down and picked up Vader to carry as he hurried after the police officer.

  "This way," Fields said when we'd almost reached him, and he waved at us before turning and jogging back the way he'd come. "Hurry."

  We followed him about another fifty or so feet around an outcropping of big rocks.

  The beach was dark there, the surf close to the boulders.

  Fred Fields stopped and switched on his flashlight. We all stopped a few feet from him and looked across at what the beam of light revealed.

  As I stared in disbelief, my stomach churned with the adrenaline rush.

  "Madre de Dios," Tino breathed beside me as he made the sign of the cross.

  "Who is it?" Fields asked, looking down at the dead body on the sand.

  It was a man dressed in a three-piece tan-colored suit with a long-tailed coat. In the flickering beam of the flashlight, his hair was indistinguishable from the dark stain of what appeared to be blood on the sand.

  "It's Carlos Ramirez," Jimmy John said.

  "Sabrina's ex-husband?" Tino asked.

  "Yeah," I said. "Don't know much about him except he seemed like a bit of a jerk."

  "Jerk, eh?" Marshall said. "Looks like somebody overreacted a little. Doesn't seem like a guy should get killed for being a jerk."

  Jimmy John cleared his throat. "Well, Lester, if anyone ought to know about a thing like that it'd be you."

  Marshall made a little choking sound but didn't say anything.

  There didn't seem to be anything else to say. We all just stood and stared at the dark silhouette of the dead body hidden among the rocks on Two Mile Beach.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  "What the hell?" Castilian accent a thing of the past, Sabrina came up behind us. "Is that…oh, no, it can't be." She turned to her nephew, holding Rosie out to him.

  Paco took charge of Rosie, and Sabrina took the opportunity to crumple to the sand like a rag doll.

  Jimmy John handed Vader over to me while he and Evan bent to her aid, fanning her and lifting her head. I was at a bit of a loss myself and couldn't think of anything appropriate to say except, "It'll take her forever to get all that sand out of her hair."

  Beside me, Tino said, "Really, Lizzie?"

  Once my granddad and Evan got Sabrina on her feet, Lester Marshall shooed us all away from his crime scene that had probably been ruined by crabs and shifting sand before we even arrived at it, but that didn't stop him from ordering us all around and being obnoxiously overbearing.

  Several other officers arrived, and the police separated us then herded us back out to the parking lot, Rosie, Vader, and all, and took statements from each and every one of us, including Sabrina, Paco, and Evan.

  Officer Fields came in after a while, carrying a good-sized piece of driftwood in his gloved hands. He walked up to Lester Marshall and said, "We think this is the murder weapon, Detective." He rolled the wood over and showed Marshall a couple of places stained in what might have been blood. Fields hefted it to demonstrate its weight. "You hit somebody with this a couple of times, he won't be getting up anytime soon if at all."

  Marshall had a look at the driftwood and nodded before glancing up at me in time to catch me staring at it too. He took hold of Officer Fields by the upper arm and maneuvered him away from where the rest of us had now congregated.

  "Keep your voice down, Fields," he ordered. "Anyone of these here could be our killer. Let's not show our hand just yet."

  Just as I was thinking he'd never let us leave and I might have to put in a change of address to the lighthouse, Detective Lester Marshall announced, "All right, people. You're free to go for now." He turned toward Sabrina, who'd been weeping off and on ever since she saw the body on the beach. "But let's not leave town."

  Sabrina cast sad eyes at him, and even the hardcore detective softened. "For now, ma'am. Please?"

  Another guard from BS 24-Hour Security had arrived during the long interrogation, driving Tino's Hyundai. So when the police finally finished with us Tino drove me home, leaving the BS 24-Hour truck for the other security guard to take back.

  The sun was up by the time Tino and I arrived at my apartment.

  "I know we're both dead tired, but I'm hoping you'll go out with me later on and check into a few things. I feel like the drug I was given was the start of this whole thing, and that makes me involved." I said, gathering a snoozing Vader into my arms.

  "It doesn't make you involved, not like how you mean it, but I get it. You aren't going to be able to stay out of this, are you?" He looked at me with those dark eyes that always seemed to cut through layers and see how I truly felt, like Superman's X-ray vision.

  I shrugged.

  "Sure," he said. "I'll go out snooping around with you—but later—after we both get at least a few hours' sleep."

  I nodded, yawning. "Why don't you just stay at my place?"

  He gave me a small smile. "Any other time, under other circumstances, I'd sweep you into my arms and carry you into the apartment with all the charm and seduction of Don Juan. But now, after what's happened, I'm just going to say, 'Thank you,' and come inside."

  I walked Vader on the grass in front of my apartment building, grateful for the cleanup bags attached to the back of the Hazlitt Heights sign. Then Tino and I went up one flight of stairs to the eight-hundred-square-foot, two-bedroom apartment that I'd originally shared with my friend, Caroline McDougal, before she married the world-famous Mr. Jupiter. That hadn't worked all that well for her.

  It felt good, right, walking into my apartment with Tino. It wasn't the first time he'd be sleeping there. Tino had
used the unoccupied second bedroom for a while when we first started dating, but had moved on over to my bed lately.

  There wouldn't be any romance at the moment though. I could barely keep my eyes open and headed straight for the bedroom. Vader was of the same mind and went straight to his bed, curled up, and was snoring before I even crossed the room.

  "I'll be there in a sec," Tino said. "Just getting a bottle of water."

  "Bring one for me too, please."

  I closed the shutters to darken the room, pulled off my shoes and jeans, and hopped into bed, lying there for a few minutes letting myself relax into the mattress. I felt like someone had used me for a punching bag. I was that tired.

  Tino walked into the room and handed me a bottle of cold water. He looked upset. Finding a body on the beach wasn't exactly a fun way to spend an evening. Had to say, that upset me too.

  He went around the bed, pulled off his work boots, slipped out of his clothes, and laid them across the back of a chair. I'd lain back down on my side and was watching him, admiring his smooth brown skin and toned muscles.

  He came to bed and got in but didn't lie down right away.

  That troubled look was still on his face.

  "It'll all look different in the morning, Tino," I said. "Murder is an ugly thing to happen in our little town." I didn't add that it seemed to be happening a lot lately, but, brother, did I think it.

  He shook his head but didn't look at me, which was when I knew it was something else bothering him.

  I glanced at the clock. Almost six in the morning. If we were going to get any sleep at all, we needed to get serious about it.

  "What's up?" I asked.

  He didn't hesitate. "That letter on your kitchen table."

  "Letter?"

  "The one from the veterinary hospital in Portland? The one asking you to consider signing on for some clinic work when you're ready? "

  "Oh," I said. "That letter." I'd left it lying open on the table.

  "When were you going to tell me you're moving away?"

  "Moving away? I'm not moving away."

  "But the letter said—"

  "Are we really going to talk about this now?"

  "Yes," he said. "I think we are. Am I wasting my time with you here?"

  Okay. Have it your way—start this up when I'm so exhausted I can't even think. "Gee, Tino, I don't know. Are you wasting your time with me here?"

  He looked at me. And I could see the exhaustion, the confusion, and something else—disappointment, maybe—in his dark eyes. "I'm pretty darn serious about us, Lizzie. About you and me. I was thinking we had a future together. Heck, Mamá's already picked out the hall for the wedding and is working on a vegetarian menu for the reception, just for you."

  I laughed, sort of—the sting of his earlier words not completely taken away by his ever-present humor. "And now you think you've wasted your time?"

  He shrugged. "After seeing that letter, I don't know what to think."

  My juices started to churn, and I knew we'd be up for hours if we got into this thing. It wasn't the first time he'd questioned me about my plans after I finished veterinary school, but this was the first time he'd put things in such worrisome verbiage. "It's late, Tino" I said, "or early, depending on how you look at it. We're both tired. Let's not do this now. It probably wouldn't turn out well."

  I leaned back against my pillow and pulled the covers up.

  "Sure," he said brusquely. "No problem. Whenever you want, but we do have to talk about it."

  He didn't say anything else before flipping over and lying down, his back to me, his frustration a palpable presence between us.

  As tired as I was, I didn't drop right off to sleep. The truth was, Tino wasn't the only one in our relationship who'd wondered what would happen when I finished school. It had been bothering me as well. Even Jimmy John had mentioned it several times. Doc Whitaker was well established as the town's primary veterinarian, and he didn't seem to need a partner—at least not right now. What would I do? Where would I go? And would the man I was falling in love with follow me? Was it even fair to ask him to?

  The fact that Tino had turned his back on me wasn't a promising sign. But even so, I couldn't help wondering exactly what he expected me to do—not use the degree I'd been working so long and so hard to achieve? Stay in Danger Cove and work as a technician or something less than I'd be qualified for? Not achieve my full potential? I'd never ask that of him. Not in a million years, and I was suddenly hurt he might even consider asking it of me.

  "Tino?" I said.

  "Mmm?"

  "You asleep yet?"

  "No." His reply was soft. "What is it?"

  "Not much," I said. "Just that I'd appreciate it if you wouldn't read my mail."

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  I woke up a little after 10:30. The morning sun slanted through the slats in the shutters. Tino lay asleep on his side, facing me now, one arm thrown over my middle. I smiled. He was so cute, so warm, so Tino.

  I wanted to be with him for as long as these feelings we had for each other lasted. Could he leave Danger Cove? His mother and sisters were a huge part of Tino, and I felt always would be. How could I beg him to choose between leaving with me or staying with them? No more than I'd expect him to beg me to stay and forego what I'd already worked years for? I prayed silently that by the time I had "Doctor" in front of my name something would happen so that he and I wouldn't be faced with that dilemma, that something would change and neither of us would have to make that hard decision.

  He opened his eyes and looked at me. A smile slid onto his lips, and warmth filled his heavy-lidded eyes. "Morning, chica." This was a man who lived in the moment and never held a grudge. It was one of his most admirable traits.

  "Morning, chic-o," I replied.

  He raised his hand to my face, rubbing his thumb along my jawline. His eyes smoked over. I caught my breath, always surprised at the way he could make me tingle, but before it went any further, I gave him a quick kiss. "Better stop right there, cowboy. We have work to do."

  As my feet hit the floor, his disappointed groan made me want to get back in bed with him, cuddle, and see what else might happen. But instead I said, "I'll make breakfast while you shower."

  After a really late breakfast of toasted bagels and cream cheese for me and lox and bagels for Tino, we headed out to his car for a trip to the center of town and Gino's Pizzeria.

  They'd just opened at eleven but were already busy as heck. The sign in the window said Serving Danger Cove since 1979. The Politano family made awesome pizza, wings, and other Italian specialties.

  "We're in luck," I told Tino, "Mama Politano is here. Just the lady we need. Let's see if she has time to talk to us."

  Mrs. Politano was a lovely Italian woman of a certain age with an exotic streak of gray that ran through her dark curls. As long as I'd been eating pizza in Danger Cove, which was a pretty long time, she'd never seemed to age even a day.

  Mama Politano looked up as we walked toward the register where she was clipping orders to the cook's line.

  She turned and came around the counter when she saw us. "Ah, Lizzie, good to see you." She held me back at arm's length for a good look. Mama Politano was a good friend of my mother, and when my parents had taken on their latest life challenge in the Himalayas, Mama P had promised to keep an eye on me—as had many other long-time Covians. "Still too slim, I see. Let me get you a couple slices—veggie special. You too, Tino?" she threw back over her shoulder.

  "No, Mama," I said, deferring to her insistence that Mrs. Politano was her mother-in-law. "We had a late night. Just ate breakfast."

  She put her hands on her hips and turned back to face us before wagging a scolding finger at Tino. "Late night? Tino, you're going to do the right thing and make an honest woman of our girl. Right?"

  Heat rose to my face. "No, Mama. No. Not like that. There was an incident out on Two Mile Beach."

  Her hands flew to her cheeks. "Oh, yes. I kn
ow. I heard that already. So terrible. That poor man. That poor lady, the pet talker—"

  "Critter…" I started to correct her but stopped myself. What difference did it make?

  "You were out there?" She looked from me to Tino.

  "We were," I said.

  She shook her head, obviously unable to grasp how such a terrible thing could happen in a place like Danger Cove.

  "I wanted to ask you about some food I was given last night. It came from here. But I never saw the delivery guy before. It was about eight o'clock last night when it came. Can you check to see who ordered it?"

  "Some food came to you from here, and you never ordered it?"

  I nodded.

  "Hmm," she said. "But it was still good Gino's food, yes?"

  "Well…"

  Her hands went back to her cheeks. "Oh, no. Something was wrong?"

  "Probably not. Would you mind looking at your delivery orders from last night, please?" Tino asked.

  "Sure. No problem." She went back around the counter, opened a drawer, took out a bank bag and unzipped it, then leafed through a couple dozen small receipts.

  After a minute she looked up. "We had no deliveries last night. Some takeout but mostly people ate here. Around the time you said, there were three pickup orders. One from George Fontaine. Thin crust, well done, light sauce, sausage." She waggled her eyebrows. "He came in himself to pick it up." She smoothed her curls. George was a favorite among the ladies of Danger Cove. His smooth Continental ways had seduced just about all of us. Apparently Mrs. Politano was included in that number. "Aaron Pohoke came by about that time, too. Said he was on his way home. Picked up an antipasto salad and some garlic-Parmesan bread sticks. And then there was one more. An order of my special Pesto Penne Primavera—the one you like so much, Lizzie."

  "That's it," I said. "That's what I ate."

  "Oh," she said. "Well, that clears things up. It was young Josh Wyler who came in and picked it up. I always remember him because he's skinny, like someone else we know," she gave me a sideways glance, "and I was glad to see him eating something that might put some meat on his bones."