Raiders of the Lost Bark

by Sparkle Abbey

  I drained my glass. The champagne was refreshing, but now I had the munchies. I shimmied my way toward the center of the venue. I noticed a small round table full of empty champagne flutes and set mine down with the others. I looked in the opposite direction, and spotted Red standing behind a food bar, directing traffic and barking out orders. With a perfected tempo, appetizers were quickly being pushed out to the hungry masses. A tray for the humans, and a tray for the pets.

  If I had to put together a suspect list, he’d be at the top. He turned to shout at a short somber brunette with orthopedic shoes. She looked like she was about to cry. Or stab him with the large knife she clutched in her hand. I took my earlier declaration back. She looked like the prime suspect in a murder investigation.

  Betty reappeared at my side, her face bland. “We’ll need to find someone else to start our RV tour. You’re bad news, buttercup.”

  I wasn’t sure how I felt about her delivery that I was considered trouble. “Do you know the lady talking to Red?” I pointed toward the food bar.

  Betty’s face lit up. “Sure. That’s Pepper. Let’s go talk to her. I’ve got some questions.”

  That was Pepper Maddox? I wasn’t so sure I wanted to introduce myself to the person I supposedly got fired while she was holding a chef’s knife. “Maybe later.”

  Betty grabbed my elbow and dragged me toward the table. “Or now works too,” I mumbled.

  “Pepper,” Betty shouted as her target started to walk in the opposite direction. Betty’s thin voice couldn’t cut through the excited chatter of the crowd. Pepper and her knife vanished out the backside of the snack shack.

  As we reached the table, Red looked up. His eyes widened. “You.” He pointed his finger at me.

  I guess his mama didn’t have the same rules of decorum as mine. Never point your finger at someone, and never rest your elbows on the table.

  “Why aren’t you under arrest?” he bellowed. His deep voice commanded attention. A few people turned to see who he was talking to.

  “Probably for the same reason you’re not. An argument isn’t a motive for murder.”

  He crossed his tattooed arms. Even wearing an apron, the image he presented was intimidating. “You’ve got a smart mouth.”

  “You’ve got an anger management problem.” Pushed up against a wall, I usually came out swinging. This was one of those times.

  His face reddened. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  We had a larger audience now. I couldn’t walk away, knowing people might think I had something to do with Addison’s death.

  “Let me refresh your memory,” I said. “I walked into the kitchen just as you slammed a baking sheet on the counter after Addison reminded you she was in charge. If I remember correctly, she banished you to peel potatoes and onions.”

  “She was an arrogant hack who let her title go to her empty head.” Red pulled out an iron hook from under the makeshift bar he stood behind. “Maybe if she’d treated people nicer, she’d still be breathing.”

  Yikes. Why were the police wasting their time on me, when Red was practically begging to be on the suspect list?

  Chapter Ten

  I’M NOT GONNA LIE. When Red pulled out that iron hook, I expected him to leap across the table and take a swipe at me. A desperate move, I know. The snack shack tent wasn’t a very private place for a murder.

  Instead, he dragged out a large iron triangle from the same place he’d found the hook. I realized he was about to ring the dinner bell. All Betty’s talk about horror movies was getting to me.

  Betty settled next to me. “Don’t back down, Cookie. He’s just trying to scare you.”

  “The last thing I need is your help.”

  “Pfft.” She grabbed another glass of champagne from the tray.

  Red strode outside the tent. He struck the inside of the triangle for a solid twenty seconds. “Now that I have your attention,” he shouted to the hushed crowd.

  All previous signs of anger had vanished. Standing before us was a poised and happy chef. If I hadn’t seen the transformation myself, I’d have never recognized him.

  A toothy smile split his lips. He wasn’t what I’d consider a handsome man, but he looked less threatening when he smiled. “Dinner tables have been set up behind the kitchen. Follow the pathway lighted by paper lanterns. Service will begin in twenty minutes.”

  The hungry campers and canines quickly filed down the pathway, chatting excitedly about what could be on the dinner menu.

  Betty frowned as we walked with the group. “I’m feeling guilty that I left Raider in the rig.”

  I felt the same about Missy. Here was the truth of the matter. Missy wasn’t a refined diner. She snorted, grumbled, and breathed with her mouth open, which led to gas. Nasty, deadly gas. Not the best table companion for those who weren’t head over heels in love with her.

  When I imagined Raider at the table, chaos was right next to him. With Caro’s help, his behavior had improved, but he wasn’t necessarily ready to share his food bowl with other canines.

  I put my arm around her. “We’ll ask for a doggie bag.”

  She looked at me the same way I’d seen Raider look at her when she denied him a treat. “Raider might need two.”

  I tried to take her mind off her dog. “I’ll bet you fifty bucks we have lamb kabobs tonight.”

  She scrunched up her face. “Why would I take that bet? You were in the kitchen earlier. You know what’s on the menu.”

  I shrugged. “Maybe. There was an argument about what should be served tonight. I’ve got a fifty-fifty shot at being right.”

  She shook her head. “Nah. I don’t like those odds. You know something.” She paused for a minute. “Skewers would make a great murder weapon. Metal or wood?”

  I laughed lightly. “I guess we’ll have to wait and see.”

  We reached the dining area where four long tables were set up with Wedgwood casual dinnerware for twelve humans . . . and their dogs. Seating was first come, first choice. I dragged Betty to the backside of the last table.

  “I want to sit at table one,” she argued. “I’m starving.”

  “We don’t want our back to the group. We’ll sit here so we can see everyone. Who they sit next to. Watch them as they’re being served.”

  She grinned. “Smart thinking. All that time you’ve been spending with Malone has paid off.”

  Actually it was the years with Grey. Thinking about him now, I missed him terribly. The urge to call him was automatic and strong. I felt the loss of his two cents in situations like this. My negligence at accepting his advice on similar incidents over the past few years was embarrassing. I’d been too pigheaded to stop and listen. I sighed. I was such an idiot.

  Betty and I made our way to the table and chose the two open seats in the middle—Betty on the left, me on the right.

  I grabbed the pitcher of water and filled our glasses. “When you see Pepper, wave her over.”

  “You got it! Too bad we don’t have a secret code.”

  “We’re sitting right next to each other. We do not need a code. Secret or otherwise.”

  Guests slowly picked seating, some distracted by their conversation, others concerned whether their dining partners and pups got along. Veronica and Harry sat at table one with the Suttons and their Lhasa Poo, Codi. The Swansons caught sight of me with Betty, and scrambled to sit at table two. And so it continued—we weren’t anyone’s first choice.

  Table one filled quickly. Then table two. And so it went. We were passed over once, twice, three times. Until finally, a tall, handsome black man who looked like a soap opera leading superstar, slowly made his way past the first couple of tables.

  “Asher,” Betty cooed. “Yoo-hoo. Over here, Handsome.” She patted the chair next to her. Asher flash
ed her a wide smile. He tossed a charming nod in her direction and made his way toward us, one sexy stride after another. I hardly noticed the dog he carried in the crook of his arm.

  “That’s Asher?” I sputtered. “He could have fixed our RV? But noooo. We got the whole town of stinkin’ Mayberry.”

  “I’m hoping to get him to help me extend my slide-out later.” She waggled her lipstick eyebrows.

  Ugh. “Enough already. I have to sleep in there with you.”

  “We need a sign. You know, if I need some private time.”

  “You will not need private time.” Lord have mercy on my soul. Surely, He’d spare me from being barred from the RV because Betty was getting busy with a stranger.

  Asher and his pup joined us, taking the seat next to Betty. Poor guy had no idea what he was in for. Betty made quick introductions. She didn’t call me Mel, but she didn’t call me Cookie either. I was “the boss lady.” Where did she come up with this stuff?

  I quickly supplied my real name. Asher introduced us to Eddie, his short-haired, soulful brown-eyed, mixed-breed dog who sat on his lap, still as a fireplace statue.

  Betty yammered on about their earlier conversation and his offer to help her look for her lost flashlight. I realized he must have come across her when she was looking for the brooch.

  I glanced over the top of the glass I held and spotted Pepper conversing amiably with the Swansons at table two. She’d traded her chef knife for her frumpy Pekingese. I elbowed Betty.

  “I see. I see. Hold your horses.” She patted Asher’s upper arm. I’m sure it was just an excuse to touch him. For once, I didn’t blame her. “I’ll be right back,” she promised. Determination clear on her small face, Betty bolted straight for Pepper.

  Out of the blue, Asher said, “You don’t look like a killer to me, Mel.”

  Well, hell’s bells. That was an interesting way to start a conversation. I dragged my gaze from Betty who was talking to Pepper with a great deal of animated hand gestures. Apparently, Asher was not only good-looking, but believed in getting right to the point.

  “I don’t think so either. What does a killer looks like?”

  “Angry.”

  That would describe Red—the one who’d stuck a hostile finger in my face. It was an obvious answer. Jealous, desperate—those were other options.

  I offered my own opinion. “Or charming.”

  He chuckled dryly, as if I’d just told him a knock-knock joke he’d heard a thousand times. “Betty mentioned you’ve had some experience with catching bad guys.”

  “Did she?” What else had she been saying? His comments could be harmless and just his way of initiating conversation, but there was something about the hidden intensity in his eyes that my gut said there was more to it.

  I changed the subject. “So you were helping her find her flashlight?”

  “She was on her hands and knees looking round the spa when I stumbled upon her. She mentioned she dropped her flashlight.” He shrugged. “I don’t think she was looking for a flashlight. But whatever it was she was looking for, she was insistent she find it. It seemed awfully important to her. Or someone she cared about.”

  What was he implying?

  He spoke with a slight accent I couldn’t put my finger on. It was almost a mix of English and Australian. Or maybe it was fake. I was finding Asher Knox to be less attractive by the minute. There was something about him that didn’t ring true. Maybe it was because it felt like he was implying Betty and I were involved in a cover-up of some type.

  “Who’s Betty dragging over here? It looks like she’d rather not come,” he said.

  “Pepper Maddox. I’m surprised you don’t know her. She’s also a chef.”

  He looked confused. “Why would I know her?”

  “Oh. I just assumed. You and Red are friends . . . at least that’s the impression I got. Pepper was originally the head chef.”

  He stiffened. “I met him for the first time today.” He returned his attention to the two ladies heading in our direction. “Maybe Pepper will give us the inside scoop on dinner.”

  I was also hoping for an inside scoop, but not about food. Betty returned to her seat. Pepper picked a chair on the opposite side of the table. I introduced myself, Asher, and Eddie. Pepper regarded me cautiously while remaining polite.

  “This is Dim Sum.” She held up her white mop with four stubby legs. I wasn’t sure which end was the head and which was the tail. “He’s only nine months old. He’s still learning to socialize.” He turned his squished face toward her and licked her right on the lips. Pepper smiled, transforming her face from mousy to radiant. The love of a dog never ceased to amaze me.

  “Don’t you have a dog?” Pepper asked me.

  “I do. Missy. She’s a bulldog, and tends to overheat easily. She had a long day so I left her in the RV where it’s cool. Now that I have a better feel for what we’re doing, I’ll make sure she’s able to attend meals.”

  “How long have you and Eddie been together?” I asked Asher.

  He rubbed his dog’s caramel-colored head gently. “He rescued me five years ago. He’s a good-natured fellow. Smart as a whip.”

  Betty batted her eyes. “I’m sure he and Raider will become fast friends.”

  He flashed his charming smile. “You have a Saint Bernard, correct?”

  “That’s right. He rescued me, too. We already have so much in common.” She leaned into his shoulder and sighed. If I were him, I’d keep a close eye on her wandering hands. “Are you staying in an RV or tent?” Betty rubbed his arm.

  “RV.”

  “We are, too. Maybe you’d give us a tour of yours tomorrow. Cookie here is thinking about buying one.”

  I was not. But if that story got us into his RV, I’d adopt it for the greater good.

  He gracefully maneuvered away from Betty. “Not a problem.”

  “Oh, I’d love to come too,” Pepper said.

  “We can have an RV tour date.” Betty clapped her hands. “Let’s start at Asher’s rig, and end at Pepper’s.”

  “I don’t have an RV. I’m staying in a tent.”

  “Even better. I’d love to see what we’re missing out on,” I chimed in. “Is nine too early?”

  Everyone agreed that worked. Pepper and Betty were the most excited. I couldn’t tell if Asher was just humoring us, or if he found the whole idea enjoyable. I guess it didn’t matter. Our snooping tour was scheduled.

  It was time to get us back on the topic of murder and lost brooches. “So, Asher, how did you know Addison?”

  “I was a previous client.” He picked up his cloth napkin and tied it around Harry’s neck.

  “I didn’t know she had clients,” I said. “She was your pet chef?”

  He nodded. “Eddie has a very delicate digestive system.”

  “That’s probably from his life on the street.” Betty slipped a dried apple ring from her pocket and placed it in front of Eddie. He didn’t so much as twitch a whisker.

  Asher looked at her funny. “He’s never lived on the street. Addison was teaching me how to cook for him in a healthy way. His previous owner only fed him cheap dog food full of fillers and preservatives.”

  Pepper’s pale face brightened. “Do you live nearby? I’d be happy to offer my services as a pet chef.”

  I bet she would.

  “I live in Dana Point,” Asher supplied hesitantly.

  A swing and a miss. Poor Pepper. He didn’t seem interested in her “services.”

  “You said ‘used’ to be a client. What happened?” I asked.

  Asher picked up the apple ring and smelled it. Apparently it met his approval, because he handed it to Eddie, who ate it immediately. “I don’t want to malign someone who can’t defend herself.”

  There it
was again. A glimpse of pretentiousness lurking under the surface. Maybe it was his practiced facial expression or the humble tone that rang hollow. Usually, people who made those types of statements were just waiting to pick that other person apart. They just needed permission.

  “What’d she do?” Betty hung off the edge of her seat. “Poison your dog?”

  He blinked. “You have a very active imagination.”

  “You know it. I’ve helped solve a dozen murders, all because of my keen intellect.” She tapped her head.

  I kicked her under the table.

  “You’ve got to stop doing that,” Betty whined.

  “You’ve got to stop telling people you’ve help solved a dozen murders.” I smiled at Asher and Pepper. “We’ve sort of helped the Laguna Beach homicide with a couple of investigations. It’s not as big a deal as she’s making it sound.”

  “Is that so? How very interesting.” Pepper shot me a nasty look. “So you’re ‘helping’ the Laguna Hills homicide detectives now? Even though you’re a suspect? You do have a way with ruining people’s lives, don’t you?”

  If there was any doubt as to how Pepper felt about me, that was gone now. I’d hoped she’d either forgotten my part in her dismissal or had let it go. That was not the case.

  “Let me start off by apologizing. I didn’t know you were originally the head chef. Had I known someone had already been hired, I would have never recommended Addison for the job. I’m sorry.” I caught Betty’s twisted smile out of the corner of my eye. “And to be clear, we are not helping. And I’m not a suspect.” At least, not that I’d been informed of. Yet.

  Pepper narrowed her eyes. It was hard to tell if she was weighing the sincerity of my apology, or if she was deciding to shove it back in my face. She blinked away her indecision. “It’s not the end of the world. In fact, Hud gave me a better gig. I’ll be the head chef for the dog show later this year.”

  “That’s great. I’m glad it worked out for you.” I meant it, not only because it got me out of potential hot water, but because Addison’s selfishness wouldn’t rob Pepper of a new opportunity for success.