Sunny opened the door herself, a confused look on her pale face. Cornflower blue eyes searched us suspiciously. In the crook of her arm rested a Maltese with a diamond collar and a pacifier in its mouth.
I stifled a giggle. Just when you thought you’d seen everything on Moon Key.
“May I help you?” She was soft-spoken and seemed to hold herself in check with good southern manners.
Devon did a double take on the dog and then composed himself. “Hi Ms. Spillman. My name’s Devon and this is Elle. We’re helping Talia Hill try and track down her missing dog and were wondering if we could have a chat with your ... male friend. We think there’s a chance he could help us. Is he available?”
She was nodding amicably, but there was something stiff about her smile. “Of course, anything we can do to help. I’m a huge dog lover and can’t imagine what Miss Hill is going through. You can join me in my afternoon tea. I never miss tea time.”
We followed her into the great room. “I’ll go grab Valentino and have my butler bring us some tea. Make yourselves comfortable.”
Her furniture looked like it came from an old haunted house. Victorian era, maybe, with all the ornate dark wood scroll work and hard, mustard yellow embroidered cushions. I wasn’t sure it was possible to get comfortable in here. Instead I opted to check out the view through the floor to ceiling windows.
Unlike the other mansions I’d visited here on Moon Key, Sunny’s was situated caddy-corner on the lot. So part of the Gulf was visible, but the main attraction was the huge banyan tree towering over a gorgeous beige bricked area beyond the pool. It was large enough for eight patio tables, with marshmallow-soft cushioned furniture beneath bamboo umbrellas, and some kind of guest or boathouse, surrounded by lush green scrub. A tropical paradise. She must have a lot of friends to need that many patio tables. Turning back to the grand room, I thought briefly about asking her if we could move our chat out there but, hopefully, we wouldn’t be here that long.
I was pretty sure she was blushing as she walked back into the room followed by the younger man in an obvious state of post-shower dampness. The butler was close behind carrying a silver tea set on a tray.
“Valentino, this is Devon and Elle. They’re trying to help Talia Hill find her stolen dog.” I glanced at Devon to see if he’d caught the fact that she’d used the word stolen instead of missing, as Devon had, but his gaze was locked on Valentino.
Strolling over, Valentino shook Devon’s hand then mine, which he held captive longer than necessary in a practiced manner of flirtation. I dropped my gaze uncomfortably.
He released me. “Of course. A terrible tragedy. I’m not sure how I can help.” He slid onto the sofa beside Sunny, resting an arm comfortably around her. She shifted closer to him; her dog nestled on her lap, beady black eyes watching us from above the pacifier. After we’d taken a seat across from them, the butler handed us each a piping hot teacup. I breathed in the scent of mint and lemons.
“Thank you.” Devon’s tone was conversational. “We believe an envelope, connected to the dognapping, was left in Talia’s mailbox sometime this mornin’. A witness saw you driving past her house, so we thought you might’ve by chance noticed someone near the mailbox or on the street? I know it’s a long shot.”
“I see.” Valentino chewed on the inside of his cheek and closed his eyes. He shook his head slowly. Scooting to the edge of the loveseat, he sighed and picked up his teacup. “I’m trying to recall any cars or people in that area as I drove by. I think there were two golf carts and oh yes, a black Mercedes.”
My heart sank. That wasn’t very helpful. Those were a dime a dozen on the island. Just then, I noticed he was holding his teacup in his left hand. And he was about the right height for the killer. Maybe our hunch was right. The hair on my arms stood up. My chest tightened. I stood up abruptly.
Devon glanced at me, eyes narrowing with concern and then followed suit. “We appreciate you taking the time to speak with us.”
“Yes, thank you.” I walked over and shook both of their hands again to make sure. Yep, Valentino was left-handed. He was the right height, and he was seen in the vicinity of Talia’s mailbox this morning. He also looked strong enough to kill Diggs with one blow to the head. Was he the killer? Did Sunny put him up to smashing the statue? She sure does seem like the type of woman who gets what she wants. I couldn’t get out of there fast enough.
“He’s definitely a suspect,” Devon said, as we pulled up to the bungalow. We’d decided to go back home to feed the dogs while we waited for Salma to arrive at Talia’s. It was going to take her awhile to get through the causeway traffic, even with a siren.
The dogs greeted us with epic tail-wagging at the door. I was really proud of Petey for not jumping on us, though. That had taken work, since he could’ve been in the Guinness Book of World Records for the most enthusiastic dog in the world.
“Good boy,” I praised him as I let him give me chin kisses. “Okay, outside boys.”
Devon had gone over and opened the sliding glass doors. It was turning out to be a beautiful day with temperatures hovering in the low seventies. I glanced around the living room but didn’t see the nurse. “I’m just going to check on Mom. Be right out.”
I peeked into the bedroom. The nurse was sitting beside Mom’s bed, holding a bowl and spoon, her chin set in obvious frustration. A picture was flashing on the TV screen but it was muted.
“How’s she doing?” I asked, though I could tell by the look the nurse shot me, things weren’t going well.
The nurse placed the bowl on the night stand and stood up. “She’s refusing to eat, and she needs something in her stomach before I can give her the medication. Maybe you can talk some sense into her.” She raised her eyebrows at me as she left the room.
I took the seat she’d vacated and stared at Mom. She kept her eyes glued to the muted TV. I reached over and turned it off. “Mom, what’s going on? Why won’t you eat?”
She rolled her head toward me, her eyes flashing defensively. “I am not refusing to eat. I’m refusing to eat that tasteless liquid she’s trying to pass off as soup. I need some real food.”
I picked up the bowl. It looked like chicken noodle soup with homemade noodles and smelled delicious. My stomach cramped, reminding me it was lunch time.
“Mom, this is real food. This is what people eat. You’ve been living on nothing but sugar for so long, you’re going to have to give your taste buds time to adjust to real food. Meanwhile, you’re just going to have to eat what the nurse feeds you, so you can take your medication and recover. Your body needs proper fuel.”
“Don’t you lecture me, Elvis. You can just take me right on home if you’re planning on treating me like a child.” A coughing fit interrupted her and she winced, grabbing her chest. “It’s my life and I’ll eat what I darn well please.”
I was too tired to point out that eating what she darn well pleased was the reason she was here in the first place. I stood up with the bowl. “Fine, what do you want to eat?”
“A peanut butter and jelly sandwich would be fine. That’s not too hard, is it?”
The nurse was in the kitchen putting Saran Wrap over the glass bowl of leftover soup. She glanced up as I came in. “Any luck?”
“No.” I sighed. “Not with the soup. I’m going to get her a sandwich and then you can give her the medication. I’m sorry she’s so difficult.”
She gave me a sympathetic smile. “Don’t worry. I’ve dealt with grumpy patients before.”
I pulled the almond butter out of the pantry. She wasn’t going to be happy about the peanut butter substitute, but she’d get over it. “So, you’ll stay?”
She laughed. “Yes, of course.”
“Thanks.” I unwrapped the whole wheat bread, knowing she’d throw a fit because it wasn’t white bread, but it was all we had. Oh well, I don’t think I’ve ever made her happy in my life anyway, why start now. When I was finished I held the plate out to the nurse. “Do you mind
?” I just didn’t have it in me to deal with her impending tantrum.
“It’s what I’m here for,” she said, seemingly regaining her good cheer during the break from my mother.
Devon was outside throwing a tennis ball for the dogs. I watched as Buddha ran after Petey. “His leg seems to be better. He’s not limping at all. I guess those acupuncture and massage sessions are working.”
Devon grinned at me. “Or he was faking to get out of the daily runs you were making him go on.”
I laughed at first. But then I crossed my arms and stared at my dog, watching him happily roll around on his back in the grass. My eyes narrowed. Thinking back, I did only notice him limping when I’d get my bike out. “He couldn’t be that ... calculating. Could he?”
Devon laughed as he chucked the ball. “Indeed, I think he could.” His phone vibrated in his jean’s pocket. Pulling it out and glancing at the screen he said, “Salma’s there. Time to go.”
I brought Buddha with me. I wasn’t used to spending so much time without him, and I needed him for emotional support. I was getting nervous about what the letter would say this time. What if he’d hurt Ginger as revenge for the botched ransom exchange?
No, don’t even go there, Elle.
The short drive felt like an eternity. We were both silent, lost in thought. Devon pulled behind Salma’s car and we jumped out, anxious to end our speculation about the envelope.
Salma and the officer who’d been with her before, were standing in front of the coffee table. Talia was still sitting on the sofa in the same position we’d left her in.
She jumped up to greet us with a hug, though, her eyes wet with new hope. “He’s sent a photo of Ginger to prove she’s still alive. He still wants the money,” she said breathlessly, with obvious relief.
“That’s great news, Talia.” I hugged her again. “See, we’re going to get her back.” Then Devon and I went to have a look at the plastic encased letter Salma was holding.
My heart clenched with both joy and anger. There was Ginger. Alive. She was stretched out in grass, her head resting between her paws, her eyes turned away from whoever was taking the picture. She had a new collar on, gold with silver rivets. It glinted in the sun.
“She looks good, Talia,” I managed through the storm of emotions I was feeling. “Looks like she’s being taken care of.” There was a newspaper lying in front of her. The date was circled in red marker. It was yesterday’s paper.
“That’s the Moon Key Gazette.” Devon sounded surprised. “That means she’s still on the island.”
“Possibly. Would they be that stupid to give us such an obvious clue?” Salma answered. She handed Devon the second letter she’d been holding beneath the photo.
We read it together:
I realize it’s not your fault someone leaked the last drop off to the press. So, I’m going to give you one more chance to get your dog back. I’ve sent the photo to prove I’m not playing games. She will be returned to you alive once I have the money. This time there will be a series of instructions for you to follow. The first will be in place at eleven p.m. tomorrow evening at the Clearwater Church of the Nazarene on Main Street. There’ll be a brick on the back east corner with instructions underneath it. NO police.
“Screw that. This time I’m going to be there,” Salma said. “Whether my captain likes it or not. I’ll go as a concerned citizen. With a gun.”
“No, please,” Talia said, distress filling her eyes. “I really think we should just do what he says. I truly believe he’ll give her back to me unharmed, and I don’t want to jeopardize that.”
Salma’s mouth twisted in frustration, but she said, “Okay. Your dog, your call.”
Devon was thinking out loud when he mumbled, “I’ll ask around my sources, see if anyone has given their staff time off. If one of the board members is involved, and Ginger’s still on Moon Key, then they’d need to hide her from the staff.”
“Board members?” Salma asked.
Devon rubbed his stubble. “I’ve not had a chance to fill you in yet, but I called the glass company that made the statue of Holly. They confirmed it was safety glass, meant to shatter, but just being knocked over wouldn’t have done it. Someone would’ve had to smash it on purpose. The only folks we know of who didn’t want the statue up are the HOA board members. They could’ve paid someone to destroy it. I’m thinking maybe Diggs surprised the vandal, and he attacked Diggs with the hammer he was using. That could be the missing motivation we’re looking for. Not Diggs or Ginger, but that statue.”
Salma stared at the floor for a moment and then back at Devon. “Wouldn’t the HOA just have asked Ms. Hill to remove it? Why go to all the trouble of destroying it?”
Devon’s hands were perched on his hips. He nodded. “They did ask her to remove it. She was paying a thousand dollar fine every day it was left up.”
Salma looked surprised as she glanced at Talia. “That true?”
Talia nodded.
“Well, that actually makes sense then. The hammer was a weapon of opportunity.”
Talia was staring at them in horror. “Diggs was possibly killed because of my statue?”
I went and sat down beside Talia. “Only one person is responsible for his death and that’s the person who killed him.”
“She’s right, Talia. One more thing,” Devon said. “We just spoke with Sunny Spillman, a board member, and her young boyfriend, Valentino, who was spotted driving on this street this morning. He’s a strapping lad, the right height and is left-handed.”
“Though, he was pointed out to us by Eva Gold, the HOA president, who I wouldn’t discount as a suspect, either. She’s got a history of violent altercations with residents and doesn’t take kindly to not getting her way. My friend, Violet—” I stopped, realizing I’d just called her ‘my friend.’ But yes, I did consider her a friend, didn’t I? Not just a doga client. I felt warmth bloom in my chest. “Violet told me she suspects Eva was the one who got rid of Nell’s peacock and framed Talia’s dogs. Oh and I also overheard Eva blackmailing Sunny to get her to change her vote at a board meeting.”
Salma blinked and shook her head a little. “Blackmailing her with what?”
I shrugged. “Don’t know.”
“Do you have the addresses of these two board members?” Salma asked, taking out her notepad and pen and handing them to Devon.
Devon clicked the pen. “I don’t know the house numbers but I’ll draw you a map.”
“Thanks,” Salma said. “That gives us somewhere to start. I’ll begin by questioning Eva Gold, Sunny Spillman, and her boyfriend; see if they all have an alibi for that night. If they don’t, I can try to get a warrant to search their property. And maybe Sunny Spillman’s boyfriend will cooperate and also give us a DNA sample to compare to the touch DNA off the collar. While we don’t have a match, we do know it’s from a male.” She turned to the officer. “We have the kit in the car, right?”
He nodded. “Yes ma’am.”
“Or maybe he won’t cooperate and we have a solid suspect,” Devon added, handing her pen and notepad back to her. “Either way, keep me in the loop.”
“You, too.” She looked down at Talia. “Ms. Hill, I sincerely hope all goes well and you get Ginger back safe and sound.”
Talia’s lip trembled as she said, “Thank you.”
I glanced over at Ginger’s bed, where Buddha lay sulking beside it. I shouldn’t have done that, the tears sprung up. I had to be strong for Talia.
After Salma and the officer left, Talia said, “So what’s the plan for tomorrow night? Think you can follow my car without him spotting you?”
“I won’t necessarily need to follow you as much as stay around the area so I can follow the money. We can keep in touch through text, and the tracker in the duffel bag’ll tell me where you are. The important thing is that I’m close enough to stay on the money trial. This’ll actually be easier to do in town so that’s a positive thing for us.”
Talia�
��s phone buzzed on the end table beside her. Picking it up, she frowned. “It’s my publicist. She’s driving me crazy. I don’t give two hoots about my image right now and she just doesn’t get that.” Tossing the phone back on the table unanswered, she leaned back into the couch. “Before you came, Salma told me they’d ruled out Rose. She’s apparently now living in Germany. Living pretty well, too.” Anger flashed for a second then dissipated in the sadness.
“Well, that’s good,” I said. “The more possible suspects we can rule out, the closer we get to the truth.”
“That’s very optimistic of you, Elle.” She did smile then, though it quickly disappeared. “Sunny Spillman was pretty angry after she’d confronted me about the statue and I’d told her it was staying right where it was,” she said, thoughtfully. “I can’t imagine her being the one responsible for Diggs’s death, though.”
I pulled my hair off my neck. It was getting warm in here. “No, but Valentino? Maybe.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Sunday afternoon I had to attend the annual Christmas party at the Pampered Pup Resort and Spa. It was mandatory for staff, as Rita thought it’d be a good opportunity to sell our services to the guests. A lot of them were surprised to find out we offered pet acupuncture, mud baths and other spa treatments, even dog psychotherapy. Lord knows what went on in there. Do dogs even remember their mothers?
Rita had also roped Devon into taking candid photos at the event, since he’d done such a good job at the Halloween party. So, we were both indentured servants today.
I’d decided on a simple green, long-sleeved satin dress and wore my wavy auburn hair down around my shoulders. Devon wore a white button-down shirt with black slacks and a red tie. We were both anxious and not in the mood for a party. Tonight would be the second attempt at a ransom drop-off. And the last. If this didn’t work, there was no hope of getting Ginger back.
We walked into the lobby. I had to give Rita credit for the transformation. The giant Christmas tree had been set up for a few weeks, but she’d added a long bar to the left where a line of people currently waited for drinks. There was also a stage in the corner with a band playing live Christmas music. Hundreds of strings of multicolored Christmas lights crisscrossed the ceiling, along with twinkling white Christmas lights outlining the portraits of Priscilla Moon’s three Yorkies behind the front desk.
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