4 Yip/Tuck

by Sparkle Abbey

  I pulled out a couple of stools from behind the counter and patted the one next to me. “According to Stacie, Tova’s pretty upset.”

  “I’m sure she is.”

  “It sounds like Malone was pretty hard on her. You know how it goes. Friends, lovers, and acquaintances are the first to be questioned.”

  “And family,” she muttered.

  “Darby, I don’t have a good feeling about this.”

  “You don’t know anything sinister happened.”

  I gave her a look. “You saw Malone. He’s a homicide detective. He didn’t hang out here asking about the leashes just to annoy me. No, there’s more to this. I think someone strangled Dr. O then dumped him on the bench outside my shop. I thought everyone liked Dr. O. It seems that’s not the case. By the way, Stacie said Jack didn’t like dogs.”

  Darby wrinkled her nose. “As horrendous as that sounds, that doesn’t lead to murder.”

  “Why would he have a dog leash wrapped around his neck?”

  She blushed. “Maybe he and Tova are into that type of stuff.”

  I looked at Darby surprised. What had Darby been watching? Or reading? “That’s possible. There’s one way to find out.”

  “Mel. You have that tone in your voice. The one that sounds like you’re going to do something you shouldn’t.”

  “I’m not going to do anything. I’m just telling you I have a bad feeling. Dr. O’Doggle was a healthy guy. I’ve seen him run marathons. He works out at the gym daily. He has his scrubs tailored for goodness sakes.”

  “So someone killed him for his scrubs?” Darby rolled her eyes. “Just because people look healthy doesn’t mean they are. Back in Nebraska, when I was a junior in high school, Ben Wright was a running back for our football team. One day during practice, he just died. He had a heart problem no one knew about.”

  “I stand by my statement that by the look on Malone’s face, there’s something he’s not sharing.”

  “He doesn’t have to share. He’s a cop.”

  “But I have a vested interest. Jack was found dead in front of my store.”

  “That doesn’t mean you’re automatically involved.”

  “No. But Malone’s already asked for my help,” I said, triumph ringing in my voice.

  “He wanted information. Not your help.”

  “I have all kinds of information: Jack O’Doggle wasn’t as loved as I thought. He was in trouble over unethical business practices. You know what else I know? It’s possible he was about to pop the question to Tova. But he hated her dog.”

  “Is she strong enough to strangle him with a dog lead?” Darby mused.

  “I think the real question is, how’d she get him to wear the leash in the first place?”

  Chapter Ten

  MY NEXT interview for the part-time position was in less than thirty minutes. Darby and Fluffy went back to the studio while I hoped and prayed Betty Foxx was the assistant of my dreams.

  I set out her application and the bottle of antibacterial hand sanitizer on the counter. I arranged a couple of chairs in the back of the shop by the coffee bar. As I straightened stools behind the counter, the door opened.

  “Is anyone here?” An older female voice rang out.

  I turned toward the door. “Hello, can I help . . .”

  Holy Moly.

  I didn’t mean to be unkind, but my first thought was please, please, please don’t be Betty.

  “Hi, there. Are you Melody? I’m Betty Foxx.”

  Of course she was. She stood barely five feet in her white sneakers and silk, animal-print pajamas. She radiated attitude with her Dreamsicle lipstick eyebrows. Oh, yeah. I was longing for Vera White right now.

  “Let’s get this over with,” I muttered under my breath. “I’m Melinda. Melinda Langston. Have a seat. Did you bring a résumé?”

  She followed me toward the two chairs I’d set up earlier. “What’s a résumé going to tell you that isn’t already on my application? Either you want me or you don’t. Don’t let my age fool you. I come with experience.”

  As Grandma Tillie would say, she was a straight shooter. Being a straight shooter myself, I appreciated that about her.

  I waited for her to get comfortable. She folded her hands on top of the black patent-leather purse on her lap. “Do I have the job?” An infectious eagerness lit up her face.

  I glanced down at her application and held back a chuckle. “I have a couple of questions first. I see you’ve worked retail.”

  “I sold cosmetics for years. Before you were born.”

  My gaze returned to her perfectly applied eyebrows. Grandma Tillie drew on her eyebrows too. That was normal for their generation. Of course, Grandma Tillie used brown eyebrow pencil not orange lipstick.

  “Do you have any more recent experience?”

  She threw back her shoulders and narrowed her sharp, gray eyes. “No. I got married. We had two girls right away. My job was to raise them. I’ve outlived my parents, two brothers, and my husband. My daughters think I need a keeper. Always reminding me to brush my teeth and wash my face. I’m not a child, and I refuse to be treated like one.”

  Definitely not a child, she couldn’t be much older than eighty. I wondered if her daughters knew she was traipsing around in public clad in her designer PJs and a single strand of pearls.

  “Do you live in Laguna?” I asked.

  “That’s an asinine question. Where else would I live? Do you live in Laguna?”

  I chuckled. “For a few years now. I haven’t seen you around.”

  Her shoulders visibly relaxed. “My cat died ten years ago. I live with my oldest daughter. She doesn’t like pets, so I don’t have a reason to come in here. Until now.”

  “But you want to work here?”

  She waved her hand in the air. “Sure, why not? You need help, and my daughter wants me out of her hair.” She pointed a thin, wrinkled finger at me. “I think we can help each other out.”

  I was about explain she lacked the experience I needed when Tova Randall bounced into the shop upset.

  “Melinda?” she called out in a shaky voice.

  “By the coffee bar.” I smiled at Betty. “Sorry. This won’t take but a second.”

  Tova made a beeline for me, tissues wadded in her fist. “Melinda. Do you have a minute?” she croaked, tears in her voice.

  “Does it look like she’s got a minute, tootsie? She’s about to hire me,” Betty said wryly. “Zip up your shirt before you catch a cold.”

  I coughed back a laugh. I enjoyed Betty’s spunk.

  Tova fingered the zipper of her blue, velour jogging suit. Suddenly, she froze. Her red puffy eyes huge. She pointed at Betty’s face. “You have—”

  I jumped up, sending Betty’s application floating to the hardwood floor. “Tova, I’m in the middle of something. Can you come back?”

  “This is important.” She sniffed, dabbing her runny nose, looking at Betty’s eyebrows, horrified.

  I picked up the paper. “What I’m doing is important too.” I glanced at Betty, who was giving me a Grandma Tillie look. It was the same don’t-disappoint-me look Caro and I got when we were trying to one-up the other.

  “It’s about Jack.” Tova’s voice was barely above a whisper.

  “I’ll meet you at the Koffee Klatch in thirty minutes.”

  Tova couldn’t stop staring at Betty. “Okay. Thirty minutes.”

  I ushered Tova out the door, Betty right behind me. Once Tova was gone, Betty leaned close and said, “She’s had a boob job. I can tell. She’s one of those high-maintenance types like my oldest daughter. You really going to meet with her?”

  Great. Even Betty thought I was an idiot. “Yes.” Once I handed Tova Dr. O’s last gift, hopefully I’d stop feeling guilty for being difficult last night.

  Betty nodded and straightened her pearls. “Then you need someone to watch the store.” She clapped her hands together and headed for the counter. “Let’s call it a trial run. I know I’m cranky, bu
t I’m honest, hard-working, and loyal, too. If you don’t like the way I handle the place, you don’t have to hire me. If I pass muster, the job’s mine. Do you have an apron or a name tag?”

  It was only for an hour at the most. How much trouble could Betty Foxx get into? Besides, once her daughters realized she was loose, I had a feeling Betty’d quickly find herself on a short leash.

  “Do you have a problem handling cash?” I asked.

  Chapter Eleven

  I WAS momentarily insane. That’s the only plausible explanation. If Betty hadn’t distracted me, I wouldn’t have agreed to meet Tova. I’d only get myself deeper into the trouble that swirled around her. Instead, I could have had a courier service deliver Dr. O’s gift. Better yet, I should just refund it to Dr. O’s credit card and put the booties back on the shelf.

  I popped over to Darby’s studio and filled her in on my temporary employee and my meeting with Tova. Darby agreed—I’d lost my mind, but I was doing the right thing. She also promised to keep an eye on Betty. Then I ran home to let Missy out.

  By the time I arrived at the Koffee Klatch, the place was full of regulars. Tova and Kiki had found a spot on the purple overstuffed sofa. Kiki nibbled on a dog treat while Tova, who had zipped her top, stared bleakly out the picture window. There was a small pile of used tissues stacked haphazardly on the table in front of her. Eew.

  I grabbed a chai for fortification before joining them. I took a deep breath then dropped on the couch with a sigh.

  “Here.” I held out the blue Bow Wow bag.

  Tova faced me, her perfectly sculpted face serious. “Why did that lady have lipstick on her eyebrows?”

  I rubbed my temple. This meeting was going to be a chore. “I don’t know. It didn’t come up. Take the bag. He wanted you to have it.”

  “I know. I told you that last night.” She set the bag on the floor by her feet without looking inside.

  “You did. I’m sorry I was so stubborn last night. I’m also sorry about Doc.” I genuinely meant it, even if my tone was businesslike.

  She shredded a clean tissue. “Thank you.”

  I inhaled deeply, reaching for patience somewhere deep inside. “So, you mentioned something about Doc,” I prodded.

  She smoothed her hair with a shaky hand. “I know you and I aren’t exactly friends,” she started.

  I gulped my tea, burning my tongue. I pried the lid off to cool it quicker. “No, we’re not. But I have a bad feeling that’s not going to stop you from asking me for a favor.”

  Kiki finally noticed me. She abandoned her treat and bound across Tova’s lap to greet me.

  “Hi, girlfriend. How ya doin’?” I scratched behind her ear as she licked the air around my face. She was one cute pocket-puppy.

  “Are you and that Detective Malone friends?” Tova’s soft breathy voice barely reached me.

  I smiled at the absurdity of her question. I’m sure Malone called me many names. “Friend” was not on the list. “No.”

  “Oh. I thought since you helped him with Mona Michael’s murder, that you two were, I don’t know . . .” she motioned absently.

  “BFFs? Not likely.” I set my cup on the table. “Tova, What do you want?”

  “There’s a photo of Jack and me on Balboa Island in his office. I want you to help me get past that barracuda office manager of his so I can get it. I deserve it.”

  Maybe her eyes were red from something other than crying. “Have you been drinking?”

  Tova flinched. “What? Of course not.”

  I couldn’t believe it. She wanted me to cover for her while she stole from her dead boyfriend’s office. Of all her non-friends, why did Tova Randall want my help?

  I stood, ready to get the heck out of Dodge. “I don’t think so.”

  “Is this because of the lawsuit?”

  Yes. “You accused me of infecting Kiki with fleas. You threatened to sue me if I didn’t reimburse your costs. Tova, bless your heart, you’re crazy.”

  Tova grabbed Kiki and stood too. Her little dog wiggled in protest. “Wait. I’ve told you, I’m sorry about all that.”

  I stared at her in disbelief. “No. You’ve never apologized.”

  She had the decency to blush. “Well, I’d give you back the check, but I’ve already cashed it. Fifteen hundred dollars doesn’t go very far these days.”

  I looked around. No one was paying us any attention. “You’re the one who came up with that amount, which I gave you. Kiki didn’t get fleas from Bow Wow,” I reminded her.

  “I know. I’m sorry. I am truly sorry.” Tova’s green eyes stared at me in earnestness.

  Good grief. Who knew I was a sucker for a decent apology? I was getting soft.

  “Melinda, please, just come to his office with me,” Tova begged quietly.

  “Why can’t you go alone?”

  “I’ve been to his office. It’s closed.”

  That kinda made sense, him being dead and all. “Closed forever?”

  She shook her head “Jack recently brought on a second surgeon. I think he called him a junior partner.”

  Tova motioned for me to sit again. I was rooted in place. I knew the smart move was to walk out of the Koffee Klatch and go back to the shop. But that nosey part of me wanted to know more. Plus I felt sorry for Tova.

  I sat back down.

  Tova shot me a million-dollar smile and returned to her seat too. “I stopped by Jack’s office this morning to retrieve the photo. The door was locked. Gwen Lawson, the office manager, could see me through the glass doors. She just ignored me, pretended I wasn’t there.”

  I wished I could pretend Tova wasn’t here. Sitting next to me. Begging for my help. “Tova, I know you’re upset. Doc . . .” I decided to drop the formality. “Jack was their boss; they’re upset too. Give them a couple of days. I’m sure they’ll let you in, and you can get whatever it is you want, assuming he has no relatives who have to be consulted, first.”

  “This can’t wait,” her breathy voice rose. “Gwen hates me. She’s always hated that Jack and I were together. She made up stuff to keep him away from me.” Tova’s mouth was set in determination.

  I didn’t want to help her. My rejection must have been obvious, because she kept pleading.

  “That is all I have left of Jack. Pictures. The day I gave him that photo was the day he told me he loved me for the first time. It’s the only copy. Gwen will relish throwing it away. If you were me, you know you’d demand that photo.”

  I rubbed the side of my face and sighed. She was right.

  “You’re going to keep asking for my help until I say yes, aren’t you?”

  She nodded, eyes hopeful. “Yes, I will.”

  I’d already experienced Tova’s stubborn doggedness when she wanted something. It was draining. Last time I eventually paid her off to get her out of my hair. I could feel myself relenting.

  “Tell me exactly what you want me to do.”

  “Just go there with me. They’ll let you in. Talk to Gwen about Jack. Ask her questions, whatever you want, while I sneak to Jack’s office to get the photo. It’ll take five minutes. I promise if you help me get my picture from Jack’s office, I won’t bug you anymore.”

  “Ever?” My eyebrow arched until it disappeared under my bangs.

  She nodded enthusiastically. “Yes.”

  She was seconds away from bouncing up and down in her seat like an excited preschooler. There was no way she could keep that promise.

  “What time do they open tomorrow?”

  She shook her head. “It has to be today,” she insisted. “The office is closed Saturdays. Can’t we go now? They close in a few hours.”

  After deliberately replacing the top on my tea, I stood and grabbed my drink. “I’ll help you, but on my terms. If you don’t like it, that’s fine with me. I’ll happily walk away, and you’re back on your own.”

  “Okay. Whenever you say.”

  “I’ll meet you there in an hour.”

  Tova jum
ped up, scaring poor Kiki. “Thank you.”

  “Don’t make me regret this.”

  What was I thinking? The minute I hopped into my Jeep, I regretted agreeing to help nitwit Tova. I had a feeling my impulsive nature was about to get me into trouble. Again.

  Chapter Twelve

  BEFORE I POPPED over to the studio to talk to Darby, I wanted to check on Betty. Granted, I’d been gone for less than an hour, but I felt badly I hadn’t given her any real training other than a brief explanation on how to run the cash register and credit card machine. I’d also pointed out the bathroom in case she wanted to freshen up. Or fix her eyebrows.

  When I got to the boutique, Betty insisted she was fine. She’d certainly kept busy. Somehow, she’d managed to find the last box of Christmas decorations in the backroom.

  Blinking colored lights hung precisely from numerous shelves, Santa hats perched on the heads of select dog and cat statues, and a Christmas tree, decorated with a combination of traditional ornaments and moderately priced collars, bows, toys, and other merchandise, stood off to the right. Somehow, Betty had managed to create garland from dog leashes. Every customer would have to pass the tree to reach the register. It was genius. Her retail background was a goldmine.

  Confident the store was in capable hands, I let Betty know I’d be next door for a few minutes then darted over to the studio, where I found Darby alone.

  Her last session had ended. She bustled around the studio, putting away her props. I rushed over to help her with a large basket of pet toys.

  “Weren’t you wearing a dress earlier?” I asked as we shoved the heavy basket onto the metal shelf.

  “I changed into jeans for the photo shoot with Shar Summers. I wanted some outdoor shots of her and Babycakes. You would have hated it.” She laughed. “They wore matching pink sweaters and boots.”

  Shar had a bad habit of dressing her Chinese Crested in over-the-top outfits that matched her own—fur, feathers, or Swarovski crystals, it was all fair game. I guess she thought it was cute to dress like her dog.