A beaming Maggie led the way back down the hall to Kat’s office. As we entered, Tara rose from the chair in front of the desk. “Have you heard the morning news?” were the first words out of her mouth.
We all shook our heads in unison. “Well.” Tara let out a giant breath. “It’s Dudley Simmons. He was in an auto accident in LA this morning.”
Kat, Maggie, and I all let out a collective gasp. “He’s not dead, is he?” Maggie asked bluntly.
“No, he’s not dead,” Tara said crisply. “He does, however, have four broken ribs, a shattered shoulder, a concussion, and a sprained ankle. I called his publicist as soon as I heard the broadcast,” she said. “He said his recovery would take a good three to six months, possibly longer.
“So that means no event next Saturday.” Kat said in a matter-of-fact tone. “Well, it is incredibly bad news, but we’ll deal with it.” She started to pace in front of her desk, something she always did when concentrating. “We can still have the adoption event at the store, if you don’t mind. I know it will probably attract less of a crowd, and we’ll lose the added revenue we would have gotten from Mr. Simmons’s sales, but …”
“Hold on. Not so fast, Kat.” Tara held up her hand. “All is not lost. I also called a few people I know who work in the publishing industry, and guess what? I found a replacement author!”
“You did!” Kat let out a squeal. “That’s amazing, Tara.”
“It certainly is,” I said. Having worked in the advertisement industry, I knew just how difficult it could be to get a celebrity replacement on such short notice. “I realize we shouldn’t be fussy, but … is it someone of equal magnitude as Dudley Simmons? Someone who’ll be easily recognizable?”
“Absolutely, if you’re a fan of television shopping and Shopping Your Way, which most people nowadays are.” She paused and spread her arms wide. “It’s Ulla Townsend.”
“Ulla Townsend? Really?” Even I, not a fan of online or television shopping, knew who Ulla Townsend was. She’d been born and raised right here in Deer Park, had gone to college in California, and then started out as a weather girl before graduating to a small cable shopping channel in Houston. It wasn’t long before her sharp tongue and acerbic wit had landed her on the nationally popular Shopping Your Way show, based out of Charleston, South Carolina. The woman had quite a following. Last I’d heard, she had over one million followers on Twitter and just about as many on Facebook. As my father would have said, “She could sell snow to Eskimos.” As a former marketing executive, I could appreciate someone who knew how to utilize strategic thinking. Not only was she a brand champion, but she knew how to hone into the right customer base for whatever product it was that she was selling. And it seemed that no matter what she sold, from clothing to cosmetics, right on down to small tools, people just couldn’t resist the appeal of Ulla Townsend. “I know she’s a popular shopping channel host, but she wrote a book too?”
Tara nodded. “Her autobiography. It’s only been out two weeks and it’s already number two on the New York Times Best Sellers list. Isn’t that fantastic?”
“It certainly is,” Kat said. “I have to say, Tara, you are definitely a miracle worker. How on earth did you manage to get someone as popular as Ulla Townsend on such short notice?”
Tara’s eyes crinkled up as she said, “Well, to be honest, I had sort of an inside track. My cousin is one of the producers of her cable show. As soon as I heard the news about Dudley, I gave Wendy a call. She was more than happy to get the ball rolling.” She reached for her tote bag, which she’d tossed on the floor beside her chair. “I’ve got to get back to the store. Her agent is faxing over some paperwork for us to sign, but I wanted to tell you as soon as possible. I’ll be in touch with the details!” With a quick wave and a smile, Tara hurried out the door.
Kat stood for a minute, brows pulled in. “Well, it’s not quite what we expected,” she said at last. “But maybe it will turn out better in the end. What do you girls think?”
“She is pretty popular,” I said. “She’ll definitely attract a large crowd.”
Kat turned toward Maggie, who’d remained silent ever since Tara had mentioned the host’s name. “Mags? What do you think?”
Normally docile, Maggie now whirled around to face Kat. Her eyes were blazing, and her hands shook as she balled them into fists and rested them on her hips.
“What do I think?” she rasped. “I think that anything that woman’s involved with ends up a disaster. I hope you’ll forgive me, Kat, but I absolutely refuse to have anything to do with the event if Ulla Townsend is involved.”
And with that, Maggie turned on her heel and barreled out of Kat’s office, slamming the door behind her.
Chapter Two
After Maggie’s dramatic exit, Kat and I just stood there, rooted to the spot, staring first at the closed door and then at each other. I finally found my voice. “Goodness. What was that all about?”
Kat looked mystified. “I have no idea. I’ve never seen her act like that before.”
I rubbed at my forehead. “She’s got definite issues with Ulla Townsend, I can tell you that much. It almost sounded like she knew her personally.”
“It’s possible. They both grew up here in Deer Park, and they’re around the same age.”
There was a knock on Kat’s door, and then Viola Kizis, one of our other volunteers, stuck her head in. “Maggie wanted me to tell you two that she’s got a terrible migraine and she won’t be able to finish her shift today. But not to worry—I told her that I could fill in.”
Kat and I exchanged a quick look, and then Kat said, “Thanks, Vi. I appreciate that. Maggie was going to help me take Irene’s animals over to the clinic, so if you wouldn’t mind—”
“No need to bother Vi,” I cut in. “I can help you take the animals over.”
“Are you sure? I know you were looking forward to having some time off.”
I waved my hand. “Of course I’m sure. Anything for the animals. Besides,” I added with a grin in Vi’s direction, “I have the feeling Vi’d rather stay here and take care of her back.”
Vi’s eyes narrowed. “How’d you know my sciatica was acting up?”
“Easy. You grimaced a couple of times, plus you keep rubbing at your lower back.”
Vi pulled her hands away from her back and clasped them in front of her. “Ever the detective, aren’t you?” she said with a smile.
“Yep, that’s me.” It had been a relatively easy deduction. Vi’s sciatica was always acting up in some way, shape, or form, but the lively seventy-year-old rarely let it stop her from doing exactly what she wanted. “So, now that’s settled”—I faced my sister and rubbed my hands together—“let’s get moving, shall we? Besides, I’m dying to drive the new van.”
* * *
It was a few minutes before noon when we pulled the shelter van into the parking lot of the Deer Park Animal Clinic. The lot was deserted save for the white van that had DEER PARK ANIMAL PATROL printed in big red letters across both sides. Our new van, courtesy of a generous donation from one of the shelter’s biggest benefactors, Petra Littleton, was almost its twin, except it had FRIENDLY PAWS ANIMAL SHELTER printed across the sides in navy letters. I slid the van in beside it and switched off the ignition. Kat and I clambered out, and we each hefted a carrier out of the back. We were halfway up the back steps when the door opened, and Donna Blondell smiled at us from the doorway.
“I thought that was you guys,” she greeted us. “The new van looks great.”
Donna was a Deer Park native like Kat and myself, an attractive blonde in her early forties. She described herself as “an animal lover right out of the crib.” She’d gotten her degree at the College of Veterinary Medicine at North Carolina State University, graduating at the top of her class. She’d worked for a while in Raleigh and, after her father passed, had taken her inheritance and opened her own practice in Deer Park. Donna’s parents had left her fairly well off, which enabled her to do a l
ot of charity work for people who couldn’t otherwise afford to give their pets the best medical care. She also did all the shelter exams and neuters gratis, which was a big boon to us. She gave me a broad smile as she peered inside the carrier I held.
“Ooh, a Ragdoll, right?” Donna wiggled her fingers at the cat through the bars of the carrier. “She’s gorgeous.”
“Yes, she is. Her name’s Annie Reilly.”
“That’s quite a moniker. There’s another cat and the rest are pups, right?”
“Correct. The other cat’s a Maine Coon—Princess Fuzzypants. She’s got the sweetest face and the most gorgeous long red hair. Then there’s a purebred Rottweiler named Lenny, and a Cocker named Jerry, and the mixes are George and Kramer.”
Donna started to laugh. “Someone was a Seinfeld fan, huh? Well, let’s get the rest of ’em in here. It’s Amanda’s day off, but she said she’d be glad to come in and lend a hand.” Amanda Winfield was the other vet in the clinic, a cheerful, curvy brunette. She’d recently graduated Duke University—cum laude—and Donna had wasted no time in snapping her up for the clinic. We finished hauling in the rest of the carriers, and then Kat asked Donna and Amanda what time we should pick them up.
“Let’s see. I’ve got a surgery scheduled for Laurie Rubin’s tomcat Rufus at three, so … how about two thirty?”
“Sounds good,” I said. “I have to say, I’m surprised to hear about Rufus. Laurie always said she’d never get him neutered.”
“Just between us, I think she got tired of everyone accusing him of fathering half the stray kittens in the neighborhood,” Donna said with a chuckle. “No matter what prompted her decision, it’s the right one. Not only does neutering help control overpopulation, but it also helps eliminate the risk of contracting or spreading disease. In many cases, it also helps to calm the cat down.”
“I’m not sure if it was the procedure or just the fact that now he’s got a real home, but Toby shows no signs of wanting to wander anymore,” I said. “Although he has been displaying a different sort of behavior lately.” I told Donna about my cat’s aggressive tendencies toward the plastic mouse.
Donna waved her hand dismissively when I was done. “It’s probably just a phase he’s going through. I wouldn’t worry about it, but keep an eye on him. Let me know if he exhibits any other signs of unusual behavior, like biting.”
“Will do.” I set Kramer’s carrier down on the floor and turned to Donna. “Tara came by to see us earlier.”
“I know; she dropped by here too. That’s great about Ulla Townsend, isn’t it? My apartment is filled to the brim with stuff I really didn’t need but bought just because she recommended it.”
“The fact she’s a Deer Park native will be a big publicity draw too,” I said. “She said that her cousin is one of Ulla’s producers.”
“Wendy—yeah, she is. She’s been assigned to Ulla’s show for, oh, the past year, I think. She’s a real go-getter. In addition to her duties as a producer, she also handles publicity for all of Ulla’s shows.”
“And speaking of publicity, I’ve got to get new posters made and new press packs sent out.” I slid my sister a sidelong glance. “Oh well, so much for my day off.”
“I appreciate all your hard work,” Kat said. She reached out and gave my arm a pat. “When the event’s over, you can have two days off in a row, to make up for it.”
I swatted at my sister’s arm. “I’ll hold you to that, Sis. Don’t think that I won’t.”
“Oh, I know you will.” Kat’s pretty face suddenly darkened. “I just thought of something. Simmons’s publisher was donating a percentage of the day’s sales to the shelter. I wonder if Ulla’s publisher will do the same?”
“I think Ulla’s book is published by Axiom, which was also Simmons’s publisher, but I could be wrong,” Donna ventured. “You can check with Tara. If it’s a different publisher, believe me, she’ll fight tooth and nail to get you the same deal.” Donna paused and then added, “Tara loves animals, you know. Had a slew of ’em growing up. I think if she had a stronger stomach, she’d have gone into veterinary medicine too, but she faints at the sight of blood. I’m sure a lot of her determination is motivated by wanting to do right by the shelter.”
“I’m sure Tara will do her best. In the meantime …” I rubbed at my belly. “It’s after twelve and my stomach is growling. You know what that means.”
Kat’s stomach was growling too, so I didn’t have to ask her twice. We said our goodbyes, and ten minutes later I was pulling into DuBarry’s crowded parking lot. I slid the van into the last available space, and we climbed out and hurried into the building.
Back in the day, DuBarry’s had been known as a down-home type of bar/meeting place. Recently, however, it had undergone a radical makeover so that it was now more of a bar/upscale eatery. The main room was wide open, with tables scattered all around. The bar was a shining block of mahogany wood, accentuated by droplights and a long mirror. Padded stools in gold and purple flanked it. The lighting was dim but cozy. Up until a few weeks ago, it had only been open from three PM until two in the morning, but thanks to a new manager, it was now open at eleven-thirty to accommodate the lunch crowd. I thought it was a smart move: their business had more than doubled. The bar did just as brisk a business in the afternoon as it did in the evening, and the lunch menu now included fare designed to appeal to all ages. We walked up the steps eagerly, but our faces fell once we entered the foyer. The dining room looked packed, and there were at least a dozen people waiting for tables. I made my way over to the hostess podium. I recognized the hostess, Marissa Stevens. She’d recently adopted a gray and white cat from our shelter, and she smiled widely as I approached. “Hi, Syd! How are you? How are plans going for the shelter-slash-book-signing event? It’s next Saturday, right? I already asked my manager for the day off so I could go.”
“They’re coming along.” Obviously, the news about Simmons and his replacement hadn’t already gotten around, and I didn’t feel the need to share just yet. “How’s Jilly doing?”
Marissa’s eyes lit up. “Oh, she’s doing fabulous. She’s adjusted to her new home. I got her a little cat bed to sleep in, but she likes to jump up on my bed and snuggle on my pillow.”
I smiled, thinking that Toby often did the same thing, when he wasn’t massacring his toys. “That’s wonderful.” I gave the crowded foyer a quick glance. “It looks like you guys are really slammed for lunch today.”
“Yeah, word got around about our specials today. They’re really, really good.” Marissa frowned at the list in front of her. “I’d say it’s about a half-hour wait, maybe more. Do you want me to put your name down?”
“Yes, please.” She jotted my name on a pad, and I made my way back over to Kat. “It’s at least a half-hour wait,” I informed her. My stomach let out another loud rumble, and I gave my midsection a rub. “Maybe we should head over to Rosie’s.”
Kat wrinkled her nose at my mention of the popular diner. “It’s probably the same there. Rosie’s special today is Yankee pot roast, and you know what a crowd that draws.”
I made a face. “I guess we could try the Greek deli. I like Miklos’s gyros, but I really had my heart set on a DuBarry burger.”
“Who doesn’t want a DuBarry burger?” said a voice just behind us. Kat and I both whirled around to face Grace Topping, the owner of the millinery shop situated just up the block in what Deer Park residents referred to as “shopper’s square.” She smoothed a hand over her silver-gray bob and smiled. “I guess the two of you are here for lunch?”
“That was the original plan,” I said, inclining my head toward the hostess podium. “It looks like a half-hour wait at least, though, and quite frankly I don’t think I can hold out that long.” My stomach let out another loud rumble to punctuate my statement, and we all laughed. “I’m surprised to see you here, Grace,” I said. “You usually bring your lunch to work, right?”
“Ordinarily, yes, but today I’d planned a litt
le get-together with my cousin. She called last week and said she’d be coming here for a visit.”
“Oh, you mean MaeAnn?” I remembered the woman who was Grace’s second cousin. Despite the difference in age, they’d always been close, and I knew that when she’d moved to Georgia, Grace had missed having her around.
“None other,” she responded with a smile. “MaeAnn was going to meet me here, so I came early and got a table, but she just texted me that she got hung up visiting my Aunt Margery. My aunt rarely gets visitors in the nursing home, so MaeAnn decided to stay in Weddington a few extra days. Anyway, I was just about to give up my table, but if you two would like to substitute, I won’t have to,” she finished with a broad grin.
I rubbed both hands together. “Say no more, Grace. We’d love to substitute for your cousin.”
After I told Marissa she could remove my name from the waiting list, Kat and I followed Grace to a table set far back in the corner. Once we were seated and perusing the specials, Grace leaned forward and asked, “I heard a news bulletin about Dudley Simmons. Such a shame. Are you going to cancel next Saturday’s event?”
“Fortunately, no.” I explained Tara’s connection and how she’d been able to get Ulla Townsend on such short notice. “So, the event will be going forward after all,” I finished.
“Hmm. Well, I’m glad of that, although I am sad about not getting to meet Dudley Simmons. I’m sure you’ll get a big crowd with Ulla Townsend, though. The woman is popular.”
“You can say that again,” Kat put in. “Are you a fan?”
Grace’s jaw dropped. “Oh, dear Lord, no. I think the woman is egotistical and conceited.”
I didn’t even try to smother my grin. “Hey, Grace, don’t hold back. Tell us how you really feel.”
Death by a Whisker Page 2