by Sparkle Abby
“First off, we don’t know if they’re unloading it because it was used in a crime,” Malone bit out. “Secondly, we don’t know who they’ve pissed off that might come after her.”
“You think people may think she’s associated with them because of the car?” I asked.
“Yes.”
“So, what can we do?”
“You can talk her into giving it back,” he suggested.
“I can try, hon, but I doubt that’s going to happen.”
“One more thing.” He began to pace. “I don’t even believe I’m going to say this.” He stopped and looked at me.
“What?”
“I’d like for you to keep an eye on April, er, June, whatever the hell her name is.”
I couldn’t believe my ears. Malone was asking for my help?
“Caro?” He took me by the shoulders and raised my chin with the touch of his knuckle, so I had to look him in the eyes.
“Yes.” I might have said it a little breathlessly.
“Do not investigate. Do not question people. Do not put her or yourself in danger. Do you understand?”
I nodded.
He dropped his hand from my chin. “All I’m asking you to do is to keep an eye on her, and let me know if anything comes up. Keep me informed. Okay?”
“Okay.”
Needless to say, the idea of Malone asking for my assistance amused me to no end. As I walked back to the house, I wondered if that meant I could be classified as “Deputy Lamont” and if I could get a badge.
I didn’t think encouraging April Mae to steal from a Laguna Beach business counted as “keeping an eye on her.” Or at least, I didn’t think Malone would think so. Nevertheless, that’s the situation I found myself in at one o’clock the next day.
April Mae and I had decided midday would be the best time to retrieve Grandma Tillie’s brooch from cousin Mel. We hoped the Bow Wow Boutique would be busy as it would be easier for April Mae to get in and out unnoticed.
I hoped her skills weren’t too rusty. She’d assured me picking the lock and grabbing the brooch would be no problem. My only role was to be the distraction.
We’d parked down the block quite a ways. I’d insisted on driving. It wasn’t that I didn’t trust April Mae’s black pimpmobile, but the honest to goodness fact was there was no way the car would not attract attention.
I went in first. I’d dressed for the occasion, since I knew what I had on would be reported in great detail as the story was told and retold.
My favorite Escada jeans, paired with a brand new ecru Vera Wang silk T-shirt, and a brilliant orange Ferragamo scarf flung around my neck as an accent. I knew it clashed with my hair, but I didn’t care. It had been a Christmas gift from my cousin, Mel, a few Christmases ago, and I knew she would recognize it in an instant. I needed to give her plenty to process to make sure her attention stayed on me.
You cannot believe how nervous I was. My hands shook as I pushed open the shop door. A bell jangled as I opened it, announcing my entrance. Mel was with a customer. I recognized the well-known plastic surgeon, Jack O’Doggle. He didn’t have a dog, so he was undoubtedly shopping for a gift. I had to hand it to Mel, she’d made a huge success of the Bow Wow Boutique.
There was a good crowd of people milling around. All the better—the more people who saw me, the fewer who were looking elsewhere.
I walked through to the back of the store where Mel had the dog carriers and pet car seats. I could feel everyone’s eyes on me. I kept my head high and eyes straight ahead.
I seldom was glad for all the time I’d wasted learning about posture and carriage, but I’m telling you, sometimes all the years of beauty pageant training comes in handy. There was a titter as I walked through. Whispered comments. I tuned them out.
I positioned myself so I could look through the merchandise and still be seen. I wanted to be in plain sight but didn’t want to be able to see April Mae, because I didn’t want my face or body language to give away her movements. With luck we’d complete our mission on time, and the realization the brooch was missing would go undiscovered until we were well away.
I picked up a black Italian leather carrier and turned it over in my hands. The leather was soft and supple; the price was more than most folks’ car payments. I put the carrier back down and reached for an open straw carrier rimmed in pink silk roses. Cute. It reminded me of Diana, and I wondered if Mr. Wiggles would fit in it. It was definitely small.
A suede dog sling with cheetah faux fur trimming was next. The African feral’s fur made me think of April Mae’s hair, and I snickered to myself. I’d convinced her that a hat would be a good idea for our foray into crime if she was to get in and out without drawing attention to herself. When she’d shown up at my door, her colorful locks had been stuffed into a baseball cap.
I had to trust she could slip into the store unnoticed.
I glanced at my watch furtively. We’d agreed on ten minutes. Little Miss Petty Thief swore ten minutes was plenty of time.
I leaned down to check out a rolling dog traveler (think suitcase on wheels with mesh so the dog can breathe) and was startled by a face looking at me from the other side. I jumped, banging my head on the display table.
“Hi, Darby.”
“Hi, Caro.” Darby pushed her blonde curls out of her face.
“How did it go with Mandy Beenerman and Nietzsche?” I’d referred Mandy and her Lhasa Apso to Darby. I think I mentioned it before—Darby has Paw Prints, the pet photography studio next door to Mel’s boutique. Darby was also Mel’s greatest defender and her best friend. Oh, and Mel had recently helped clear Darby of a murder rap. Makes for some heavy-duty loyalty.
“Great. Thanks for the recommendation. Nietzsche’s a beautiful dog.”
From then on, Darby was on me like white on rice. Every move I made, she was there. Eyes narrowed, watching my every move. Always between me and the display case. I risked a glance at my watch again. Time was up.
I took my exit slowly, stopping at a display of cleverly arranged new arrivals on my way toward the front door.
With my hand on the door handle, I glanced back to see where Mel was.
Our eyes met, and I worked hard to keep my face neutral. If there was even a hint of triumph or humor in my expression she would rush to the display case. I needed her to feel safe, to think Darby’s vigilance and her watchfulness had thwarted me.
All those years in teen pageants, smiling and saying, “I’m so thrilled for Suzy,” or “I’m so happy to be Miss Runner-Up,” paid off.
Poker face. Poker face. No emotion. I held her gaze and waited a full beat.
Mel doesn’t have a poker face. Her dark eyes blazed with, “I am not going to look away first.”
Okay, cuz. I tried to look defeated. I broke eye contact and looked at the floor, purposely dropped my shoulders, and then I was out the door.
I made myself walk down the street without rushing. Once out of sight of the boutique, I hurried to my car. I opened the driver’s side door and slid in. April Mae was slumped down in the passenger seat.
“And?” I asked.
“I got it!” she screamed. April held the brooch aloft and then dropped it into my hand. “Are we a team or what?”
“We rock!” I shouted back.
“Let’s get outta here before they come after us.”
I put the car in gear and headed it toward home grinning like a dog with a brand new bone.
I spent the rest of the evening curled up with my pets and some popcorn, watching an old movie and admiring Grandma Tillie’s brooch which I’d propped up on my bookshelf. I’d have to figure out a plan to keep it safely in my possession. Mel would not let this pass. If I knew anything, I knew that. For now, it was enough that I had it back.
Amidst my m
usings about keeping the family heirloom from being stolen again, I also mulled over the idea of April Mae and the gargantuan black Cadillac parked next door. Malone had seemed dead serious (pardon the expression) about the mob being active in Laguna Beach.
I yawned, and Dogbert and the two cats followed suit. Thelma and Louise both snuggled a little closer. I thanked my lucky stars that I dealt with the lighter side of life with people and their pets, and didn’t see the seamier side Malone dealt with every day.
Sleep did not come easy. My mind raced like a hound on the hunt. The more I thought, the more I worried about April Mae and her dogged pursuit of finding information about her sister’s killer.
Chapter Seventeen
The next day Kitty’s death was back in the news. I’d caught a teaser from morning anchor Maggie Rameriz about an update as I came in from a quick morning outing with Dogbert, but then they’d gone to break.
I waited, slipping off my shoes. Maybe there was a break in the case. The young anchor came back from commercial.
“We have some new developments in the murder of a Hollywood publicist. An unnamed source at Laguna Beach City Hall has leaked some information about the investigation, and now that leak is causing controversy. Police say speculation about the crime will cause unnecessary concern. And now let’s talk to Dave McAndrews who is at the Laguna Beach Police Department.”
They went to a live shot in front of the municipal complex which included City Hall, the police station, and the fire department. That explained where all the news vans had gone. I was happy for our neighborhood and sorry for Malone.
The live reporter continued, “Here the police work twenty-four/seven on the case following up on every possible lead, leaving nothing to chance, but they have no real suspects. The last thing they want is someone who they say is spouting off pure speculation or unsubstantiated rumors.”
“What are those rumors?” the anchor asked from the newsroom. I was glad she’d asked. I wanted to know too.
“Our source tells us the police are following up on the idea the publicist’s shooting might have been a mob hit.”
“That is a surprise, Dave.” The picture returned to the anchor in the studio. “Well, folks, we’ll keep you informed as we learn more about this development.”
As I turned off the TV and went to shower and get dressed for the day, I wondered if their source was the same “cousin of someone who works at the police department” as the guy April Mae had talked to at the gas station.
Later that evening, April Mae was seated on my patio while I watered the flower pots I’d lugged home from the Laguna Gardens Nursery. Chrysanthemums were great fall flowers in southern California, and the Santana yellows and Santana whites I’d picked up were already in full bloom.
April Mae wore a yellow top paired with orange and white flowered shorts. I don’t mean this in a critical way, but she kind of looked like a lawn ornament in the midst of my colorful garden.
“Caro, I got a copy of Sissy’s will in the mail today, and I hafta tell ya, you coulda knocked me over with a feather duster.” She held up a thick stapled packet of legal-sized papers.
“The attorney told you the day of Kitty’s funeral you were her main heir. What surprised you?”
“Well, first off. She left me her house and most all of her money. I don’t know how much that is going to end up being but . . .” April Mae swallowed hard. “Caro, I’ve never had a house. I never thought I ever would.” Big tears filled her eyes.
“Oh, sugar.” I left my flower watering and went over to give her a squeeze. “Don’t cry.” I’d traded one kind of waterworks for another.
“I’m sorry. I just can’t believe she would do that when she never even met me. I could be a no account loser for all she knew.”
She was right. It was an incredible thing to do. “You know what? It is a big deal.”
“The other part that surprised me was what she left to some other people.”
“Really? Like who?”
“One of them is her business partner, Franklin Chesney. I can imagine she’d want to leave him something, but here’s the crazy part. She left him a picture. Says he can pick it out.”
“A what?”
“A picture. You know one of her pictures on the wall. Sissy sure had a lot of them.”
“Then there’s this woman, Tonya Miles. She also gets to pick out a picture and a pair of shoes.”
“Shoes?” There had to be a story behind the footwear bequest.
“Yeah. Then the rest of her pictures she left to the Laguna Beach Art Museum. And the rest of everything else goes to me. Well, me and the cats.”
“Wow.” I’d thought it was nice Kitty had remembered her new found sister in her will, but she had more than remembered her.
“Look. I got this by mail.” She tapped the papers. “A guy came to the door, and I had to sign for it. From the letter it looks like all the other people listed got a copy today too.”
“Sounds reasonable, hon.”
“I called up that lawyer guy and asked him if that meant I get the cats too. He said yes. So I have a house, and I have two cats. I tell you, I am in high cotton.”
She looked like a kid at Christmas. A house and two cats. We should all be so happy to have those things.
“You are, sugar. You surely are.” Yep, the woman had no idea.
“Tomorrow, I’m going to see Sissy’s partner, Franklin, at their PR firm. I have some questions for him. Where is Century City?”
“Not far. Maybe an hour away, depending on traffic.” Looks like I’d be calling first thing in the morning to see if I could reschedule my morning appointments. This was the kind of outing I was sure even Malone would agree I should not let April Mae go on alone.
We headed to Century City early before the traffic was too heavy, so it wasn’t a bad drive. April Mae seemed a little overwhelmed by the congestion and by the impressive office building.
Franklin Chesney was with a client when we arrived at the Bardot and Chesney PR offices. In all the time I’d been neighbors with Kitty and had worked with Franklin and his Corgis as clients, I’d never been to their office. Franklin had a small apartment in Westwood. I’d always worked with his dogs there.
Space in this part of town was pricey. It confirmed what I’d thought—the firm had been doing well.
We checked in with the receptionist, Cherise, and then took a seat. Cherise, though not a young woman could have been a model herself. She seemed to be having a problem with an impatient client. When he turned, I recognized Clive, the grief-stricken artist from Kitty’s funeral.
“I don’t have all day to wait,” he snapped at her.
“You didn’t make an appointment,” the receptionist said in a firm but pleasant voice.
Now why couldn’t we find someone like her for our office?
It wasn’t but a few minutes when she looked up and made eye-contact with us. “You can go in now.”
We thanked her and stood. Clive had switched tactics, apparently realizing being a stinker was not very effective. He’d put away his petulant attitude and had now applied himself to charming Cherise.
Though full of himself, he truly was a handsome guy. I hadn’t realized it the night at the Pet Art Exhibition at Montage because his allergy symptoms had made him so miserable. Face it, a bright red nose isn’t a great look for anyone.
His longish dark hair just brushed his shoulders, and his very vivid blue eyes (definitely contacts) set off his classic features. Super straight teeth made for a Hollywood smile. Though this was the first time I’d seen him smile. There was something dark and brooding about him, and I guessed it was a quality many women found attractive.
Cherise excused herself and ushered us down the hall to Franklin’s office.
“Hello, Caro. So nice to
see you.” Franklin stood as we entered.
“Franklin, this is April Mae, Kitty’s sister.” I made the introductions, and he shook April’s hand.
“The long lost sister, the one we didn’t even know about. Please have a seat.” He indicated the chairs in front of his desk and then dropped into his own. He still looked exhausted.
“How are you holding up?” I asked.
“Not too bad.” Franklin moved some papers on his desk, but I’m not sure he even knew what he held.
“I think we met at the funeral, but I was pretty upset, and I don’t much remember anybody I met.” April, who’d been studying the floor, spoke softly. She’d been all confident bluster but now, faced with her sister’s colleague, she seemed intimidated by Franklin and his formal manner.
“Kitty was not only my business partner, she was my best friend.” Franklin looked directly at April Mae. He seemed a little confrontational. I wondered if he’d expected to inherit more than the bequest he’d been given.
“I got a copy of my Sissy’s will in the mail and a letter from her lawyer. You’re supposed to come by the house and pick out a picture.” The pixie’d found her voice.
“Yes, I got a copy of Kitty’s will, too. I have to say I was surprised.” There it was again. That slight edge to his tone.
“I stopped in to find out when you’d like to come by.”
“You could have just phoned.”
“It seemed more personal to stop in.” April Mae looked at me for confirmation. The excuse sounded lame even to me. In reality, we’d wanted to see his reaction and ask some questions.
“I see.”
“You let me know when, just give me a ring. You can come anytime, you hear.” April Mae slid a paper with her phone number across the desk.
“Thank you.” There was a sub-text to his words, but I couldn’t figure out what it was. Was he irritated by April’s down home expressions? Was he maybe just so busy that he was hoping we’d move on?