by Judi McCoy
“How about if you send a couple of your men inside to help Tomas start the fire?” Ellie asked Wheeling. “That will warm things up and give people a reason to stay. We’re going to tell the family Arlene has a personal message for them and ask them to remain as a show of respect.”
Wheeling tipped his head at Levy, and the detective took off to do, Ellie hoped, what she asked.
“Okay, now what?” Wheeling ground out.
“Jeez, put a lid on it, will you?” ordered Viv. “This isn’t going to be easy for any of us. Ellie has a plan, which she’s told you about, but there’s no guarantee it will work.”
“Since it’s about the most ridiculous plan I’ve ever heard, there’s definitely no guarantee it will work.” The detective loomed over them, his large frame standing firm against the Atlantic wind. “Look, Ms. Engleman. I’m going along with this dog and pony show for one simple reason: because Captain Carmody told Agent Bond you were an okay sort who knew what she was doing. That’s the only stamp of approval you have here, and it’s fading fast. Let’s get a move on, and not waste any more of my force’s time.”
Ellie smothered a snarky comment and gazed up at the crowd on the terrace, where she saw women hugging their jackets close, while men circled around them as if protecting them from the wind. If they stayed out here any longer, someone was sure to invite themselves inside. When that happened, the entire throng would troop through the door and she’d never get to act three.
“Okay, fine,” she said, standing. She opened the gate to the dog pen and released the five dogs. “You guys know what to do,” she whispered, bending down to scratch her boy’s ears. “Take your places.”
The dogs scampered up the steps, moving guests out of the way. Rosa saw the canine commotion and nodded to the caterers, who began clearing trays and dismantling the bar. Julio and Tomas stood in the doorway and refused anyone who wasn’t one of the select few to come into the house.
Evan McCready hugged Arlene, then clapped his hands. “We’d like to thank you all for coming. Please follow the police escort down the stairs and around to your cars. The kitchen entrance is for the family only.”
People on the deck grumbled a variety of complaints. Some needed to get warm, others wanted a restroom, and a few were just plain rude, but Tomas and Julio held firm and, with the help of the officers, managed to get the nonguests moving in the right direction.
Dr. Bordowski and Uncle Mickey, who’d been huddled near a bar setup, headed toward the stairs, but Terry and Maria blocked their escape. “Ms. Millman wants you both to stay. She considers you family,” said Terry.
The doctor and pharmacist appeared confused, but did as they were told and followed almost-aunts Connie and Elsie through the terrace door with Rudy, T, and the Bostons on their heels.
Chapter 19
Ellie followed the group into the living room. Once the dogs had settled into a five-pooch throw rug in front of the fireplace, she gave the nod and the girls blocked the exits with the police close behind.
“I have more men outside making sure the gawkers leave, just like you asked. They’ll wait in their cars until something interesting happens,” said Wheeling, walking behind her. “And ‘interesting’ better happen soon.”
“Give me a minute,” Ellie told him, scanning the room. The impressive fireplace, with its brightly burning gas logs, took up almost one entire wall. Tomas sat on the hearth, guarding Myron, who perched on his stand like a king surveying his subjects. Viv stood on the opposite side of the fireplace, chatting with Mickey and Dr. Bordowski as if they were old friends.
The four R cousins huddled on the sofa, with Aunt Miriam and Aunt Connie sitting across from them on rattan chairs. Uncle Scott, Faith, Christian, and Aunt Elsie were clustered near the foyer doorway to the right of Ellie and Wheeling. And she found Detective Levy posted in a far corner, taking everything in.
“Excuse me.” Cousin Faith, a tall, thin blonde wearing Donna Karan, sneaked up on her from the side. “We really need to be going. What’s so important that Arlene can’t say it in a phone call or a text message?”
“Give her a chance to gather her thoughts. This won’t take long,” Ellie assured her.
Aunt Elsie trundled over with Coco in her arms. “Here’s my darling,” she said, holding the dog to her cheek. “She can’t wait to be included in your daily walking schedule.”
Cupping the dog’s chin, Ellie grinned at the snowwhite teacup Poodle. “Coco is a cutie.” She spotted Aunt Connie. “But what about Greta?”
“Be thankful Connie left her at home. That dog is a menace. She spent the day jumping on the kitchen counters to look for food.” Elsie gave her Poodle a kiss. “Coco was so traumatized she had accidents all day long.”
Ellie held back an eye roll. She was going to have her hands full with—
“Ms. Engleman? I believe you have something important to do right now,” Wheeling said, breaking into the conversation.
She graced the detective with a frown. “Sorry, Elsie. We’ll talk later. Why don’t you take a seat and get comfortable? This should be quick.” Turning, she said to Wheeling, “Where is Agent Bond? Viv left a message on his cell, telling him to be here.”
“He’s here. You just don’t see him,” Wheeling said, his tone snarky. “Now let’s get this show on the road.”
Ellie scoured the room for Arlene, whom she found standing near the entry to the back hall with Vanessa, Evan, and Rosa. “Wait here, and please don’t do anything until I give the signal.”
She aimed for the McCreadys with her fingers crossed. “Are you ready to play your part?” she asked Arlene when she reached them.
“I’ll do my best.” Arlene looked at her parents. “Can you stand nearby for moral support?”
“We’ll do whatever you need us to,” said Vanessa, taking her daughter’s hand. “Come on. Let’s get you settled. Then we’ll move out of the way.”
Ellie heaved a deep breath. Things were taking shape, just as she planned, and her time to act was drawing near. She’d tried to talk Viv into handling this end of it, but couldn’t get her to agree. After checking her pocket for M&Ms, she crossed the room with the McCreadys and took her spot next to Myron.
Arlene stood ready on the other side of the parrot’s perch and Evan clapped his hands. “Excuse me, everyone, but my daughter would like a few minutes of your time.”
Arlene cleared her throat and glanced at the family crowd. Most of the group had closed ranks, while Viv followed the plan and edged Dr. Bordowski and Uncle Mickey to the center of the room.
“I’d like to thank all of you for coming tonight. I know the weather’s been lousy and traffic is terrible this time of year, so if anyone wants to stay over, please feel free to do so.”
“Elsie and I can’t, dear,” Aunt Connie announced. “There’s no one home to take care of Greta, but thank you for offering.”
Arlene tossed her a smile, then said, “I’ve asked you here because I need your help. I’ve thought and thought about the night Martin was murdered, and since all of you were here, I assume you’ve been thinking about it, too. It was an epic event for our family, and when I learned the truth of Martin’s business dealings, well, there was no way I could leave things as they were.”
“No one here thinks you took part in his illegal activities,” said Miriam. “We’d never believe that of you.”
Arlene inhaled a breath. “Thanks for the vote of confidence, but there’s more. When the police decided the killer was someone at the party, I simply couldn’t accept it. Who here would want Martin dead?” She glanced at Detective Wheeling. “The officers gathered evidence as best they could, but when they arrested Tomas, I felt positive they had the wrong man. And that’s why I asked for assistance from another source.”
She focused on Ellie. “Ms. Engleman has become a friend and a confidante, and she kindly offered to put my mind at ease by performing her own investigation of that night.”
“I thought you said sh
e was a dog walker,” cousin Christian reminded them. “Now you’re saying she works with the police?”
“Not exactly, but she does have investigative experience, and a lot of good ideas about how to find the real killer.” She gave a nod. “I’ll leave the rest of this talk to her.”
Ellie swallowed a nervous chirp. There’d been so many disasters in her life when she performed before a crowd that she’d stopped counting. But just as she’d done for Flora Steinman this past fall, she put her fear aside and came to the aid of a friend.
“Please bear with me while I conduct a little experiment,” she began. “Myron—”
“Is a parrot,” quipped one of the R people, grinning. The guests broke out in laughter. “Don’t tell us you think he was the killer.”
“No, but he knows who the murderer is,” Ellie shot back.
That seemed to quiet everyone. She locked gazes with Viv, then eyed Dr. Bordowski and Uncle Mickey, who were standing beside her. “As I said a moment ago, please give me a chance to—”
“Awwwk! Let’s get this show on the road! Awwwk! Move ’em in, move ’em out! Raaaaw-hiiiide! Awwwk!” Myron squawked the theme song of an ancient Clint Eastwood television show, ending with the exact sound of a cracking whip.
She spun around and held out a candy. If the African gray was ready to cooperate, she didn’t want to lose him.
The parrot snatched the M&M in his claw, popped it in his beak, and crunched. “Aah! That’s more like it. Awwwk!”
She ignored the tittering laughter and wisecracks from the audience and held up a finger. “Myron, remember what we talked about earlier today?” She passed him another M&M. “Marty?”
“Awwwk! Marty, I’m gonna kill you if you steal from me, Marty! Awwwk!”
The guests hushed their comments, looked around the room, and focused on Uncle Mickey. When he saw their questioning eyes, he turned pale. “Hey, that’s not me. I’d never hurt my best friend.”
“Awwwk! Don’t make me hurt you, Marty. Awwwk!”
The family gasped when they heard the phrase, repeated in Uncle Mickey’s voice. Ellie passed Myron another candy. As she turned, Mickey shook off Viv’s hand and tried to slip past her, but a yell from the hall stopped him.
“Oh, for God’s sake, please get this nonsense over with!”
Dressed in red from head to toe and carrying an easel, Adrianne marched into the living room. Pushing past Viv, Mickey, and Dr. Bordowski, she smacked the easel down in front of the cluster of dogs and unveiled her portrait.
“This is what Marty Kent was all about. I was the woman he wanted in his life.” Spinning on her four-inch spiked heels, she faced her sister. “And I’m tired of hiding the truth.”
“Awwwk! Truth be told, Marty, you’re a dead man. Awwwk!”
Ellie passed Myron another M&M, happy to hear he was still on track. As for Adrianne . . . She caught Evan’s attention and asked for help.
He rushed to his middle daughter and grabbed her forearm. “Adrianne, stop. You’re ruining everything.”
She wrenched away from him, the pupils of her eyes dilated to a glassy glare. “Me, ruining everything?” Sneering, she pointed at Tomas. “When that little grease ball killed the man I love?”
Tomas stood, his hands clenched. The canines continued to circle. “Marty was the only man I ever loved,” Adrianne shouted again, shoving the dogs aside with her feet. “And he loved this painting.”
“Awwwk! Marty loved that self-portrait. Awwwk! It held the secret to his success. Awwwk!”
Ellie gave herself a mental head slap. How could it have taken her so long to realize what the comment really meant?
Rudy rose on his hind legs and rested his paws on her calf. “The DEA is lookin’ for a record book. And we know where it is.”
“This is too much,” said Christian, standing. “You don’t need us. You need a television crew to film this circus.”
“Darling, really,” cooed Miriam. “I’m having such a good time. I’ve never been to one of those murder-nightat-the-dinner-theater plays before.”
“I’m gonna murder you, Marty. Awwwk! Keep on cheatin’ me and it’s gonna happen. Awwwk!”
The guests stared at Myron, then returned their gazes to Uncle Mickey, who tried to back away. “I didn’t kill him, I tell you! It was Sabrina.”
His confession brought the entire room alive. The Bostons yowled. Rudy and T jumped against the easel and knocked it to the floor.
Adrianne screamed and dropped to her knees. Myron swooped down from his perch and landed on her head.
Rudy and T darted in and out of the crowd, fighting Adrianne to gain control of the portrait, while the cops broke rank and ordered everyone to calm down.
Ellie held her throbbing temple. It appeared the painting was the key—it had to hold the record book Agent Bond wanted. And had she heard right? Did Uncle Mickey just announce that Sabrina Bordowski killed Martin Kent?
Sam parked a block down from the house he suspected was holding the memorial service. His ride here from downtown Manhattan had taken over three hellish hours. He hoped Ellie would appreciate the trouble he’d gone through when she saw him. Once his boss insisted that he take some vacation time, he couldn’t resist making the trip to see her in the Hamptons.
He showed his badge to the cop sitting in the first black-and-white lined up in front of the humongous home. The officer stepped out, checked Sam’s credentials, and walked by his side, giving the high sign to the police in three other cars.
Salty air blew in off the Atlantic and he hunched over, assessing the estate in the growing darkness. Ellie said she was staying in a mansion, but he thought she’d been stretching the truth. If this was the kind of money Viv came from, no wonder she had such a kick-ass attitude.
“I thought this was a memorial service. What are you guys doing out here?” he asked them.
“I’m not sure,” said his escort. “According to Detective Wheeling—he’s the lead on this case—the memorial is a cover for some crazy woman’s idea of unmasking the dead guy’s real killer. Wheeling is letting her have her way for a while. If nothing happens it was a big waste of time and manpower for the force.”
Crazy woman? So Captain Carmody had been right. Ellie was involved in another murder. What the heck did he have to do to get her to follow his rules? Frustrated, he blew out a long breath. He loved her, damn it. How in the hell was he supposed to protect her if she kept getting involved in this stuff?
His escort nodded toward the house. “Looks like something’s going on.”
Shadows danced in the front windows of the mansion. A racket—barking dogs?—filled the air, and Sam groaned. Didn’t it just figure that canines would be involved if Ellie was here?
Inside, a woman shouted and a man yelled in return.
“We’re not supposed to go in until Wheeling gives the word,” said his escort when they stopped at the bottom of the porch stairs.
Sam heard a loud squawk. Another woman’s scream rang out, and he shook his head. “Sounds to me like that’s the word.”
“I’m not sure—”
“I don’t take orders from your boss, so I’ll chance a reprimand.” He climbed the steps and flung open the door. Edging past a couple of people arguing with the cops, he followed the noise into a huge room rife with screeching civilians, howling dogs, and a shrieking parrot.
He spotted Viv, who saw him and pointed over the head of a woman she was hanging on to like a life preserver. Following the direction of her finger, he spotted a knot of humans and canines scuffling in front of the fireplace.
The closer he got to the mosh pit, the quicker he knew the identity of at least one of the wrestlers. Ellie’s back was to him, but her curly copper hair blazed in the firelight. She and the other woman were scrabbling over something on the floor while Rudy, the small mutt Viv owned, and three black-and-white dogs darted in and out between them. To top it all, the downed woman was trying to get a squawking parrot off her head.
When Ellie stood to let the two women fight it out, he finally got a good look at her. What the hell had happened to her beautiful face?
Viv’s ex-prisoner stood and held up a small notebook, her eyes filled with triumph. Ellie lunged at her, but the woman tossed the book into the fire.
A big burly guy with a face like a bulldog stormed toward the fireplace and Sam followed him.
Ellie yelled, “Tomas, turn off the gas,” and the kid standing next to the hearth made for the side of the fireplace.
When the bulldog shoved Ellie, Sam had had enough. Grabbing the man’s shoulder, he spun the guy around and clocked him, throwing him to the floor.
It was then Ellie realized he was there. Her eyes filled with tears, she made her way through the mass of mutts and fell into his arms.
He held her tight while a tall cop—Wheeling?—stooped to separate the two women. Then another guy, the one Sam had seen propped against the wall on the other side of the fireplace, stepped in, clamped his hand on the fireplace tongs, and spoke to the kid. Between them, they pulled the charred date book from the dying fire.
When the parrot hopped back on his perch, Wheeling closed in on Viv’s girl and hauled her to a stand. Pulling her out of the fray, he began reading the Miranda rights. In only a few minutes the police brought everything under control.
Ellie leaned against him, her breath ragged, her body tense, and he smothered a laugh. “I came here hoping to surprise you, but I don’t think there’s anything I can do to top this.”
Drawing away, she gulped for air. “I was just trying to help Arlene and Rosa. That’s all.” She straightened her shoulders. “I had no idea it would turn into—”
“A brawl?”
“What? No! A—”
“Riot?”
Ignoring him, she dropped to her knees, hugged her dog, and patted the others milling around her. “You five were great. You did just what I asked you to do—except for the painting. How did you know what was back there?”