Raiders of the Lost Bark

by Sparkle Abbey

  “No.” He crossed his arms and watched me. “You’re right.”

  I paused. “About?”

  He rubbed the back of his neck. “I could have handled the case involving Hayden Stone and the Dachshund races better. I should have told you I was working on a case in town that you were entangled in.”

  I tossed the paper towel on the counter. With my arms crossed, and chin set at a stubborn angle, I faced him. “Innocently entangled in. Malone had asked me to keep Betty out of trouble. And then when I straight up asked you what was going on, you lied.”

  “And because you got your feelings hurt, you put the case, my life, and your life in danger.” His words crackled with pent-up anger.

  I opened my mouth to deny it, but I couldn’t. As much as I detested liars, here I was standing before him, lying by omission, knowing that I was keeping the fact that Addison had been blackmailing me to myself.

  “We’ve both made mistakes.” I pushed past the hurt and struggled to let my guard down in order to begin rebuilding the trust. “Where do we go from here?”

  A sad smiled pulled at his mouth. “I don’t know.”

  He shoved his hands in his front pockets. I couldn’t remember another time when he looked so uncertain. To steal a line from Betty, I was kinda digging it.

  He cocked his head to the side. “So do you want to talk about why Betty’s pushing us together?”

  I smoothed my braid nervously. “Not really. But we should.”

  “How bad is it?”

  I made myself look him in the eye and forced the words past the lump in my throat. “I have motive for Addison’s murder. Blackmail.”

  He blinked, leaning back onto the counter edge. “I don’t understand. Blackmail how?”

  I grabbed the paper towel and twisted it, needing to do something with my hands. “Addison’s father was James Rae.”

  His eyebrows rose. “The Olympic athlete?”

  “He was also the judge Mama is rumored to have slept with in order for me to make it into the Miss America finals.”

  He didn’t say anything, but he didn’t need to. His face showed his surprise, and then awareness. He moved closer, until we stood side by side, close enough that I could feel his body heat.

  “So it’s true.” The sympathetic understanding was almost my undoing.

  I cleared my throat. “It’s worse than her just sleeping with someone as a way for me to win a contest. She had feelings for him. They were lovers, and Addison had letters.”

  “Between your mother and her father.” His voice sounded so calm compared to mine.

  I spilled my guts. It felt good to get the whole sordid affair off my chest.

  “Are you going to read the letters?” he asked once I’d finished.

  I wrapped my arms around my waist. “I thought I would. But now that I’ve seen them, I can’t. I don’t want to. I’m going to burn them, like I promised.”

  “And the police don’t know about this?

  “I haven’t told them.”

  “This isn’t good, Mel.”

  “I know. You know how I feel about lying. And that’s all I’ve done for the past month.”

  He stood quietly, processing the information. “You haven’t found any photos?”

  “Nothing. I think they might be on the USB drive I saw in Addison’s backpack.”

  “Do the police still have her personal items?”

  I scoffed. “No. The police finally released Addison’s belonging to her agent, who dumped them off at the headquarters tent complaining the police didn’t give her everything, and what they did give her she wasn’t interested it. She’s a real piece of work.” I thought about the contents with a new perspective. “I want to look through that box now that I know what I’m looking for.”

  “That’s a good idea.” His sharp eyes studied me. “Can we set aside our issues and concentrate on getting you out of this mess?”

  I nodded, my heart pounding against my chest. “I can do that. Since Betty’s already over-shared, did she tell you there may be a jewel thief among us?”

  “A murderer and a jewel thief?”

  “Um, one more thing. The program director, Hudson Jones, has disappeared.”

  He ran his palm over his face. “Can’t you two ever go anywhere without some type of disaster happening?”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  THE SUN GLARED down on us from the cloudless blue sky. It was going to be another unseasonably hot one. Grey and I found Betty chatting with Craig Sutton and his black-and-white Lhasa Poo, Codi, near the snack shack. When we approached, Betty gave me the thumbs-up. I wasn’t sure if she was telling me she’d found my brooch, or if she was asking if Grey and I were on again.

  I introduced Grey to Craig and Codi. Codi’s soft ears perked up on high alert, sussing out if we were friend or foe. She looked adorable with a bright red bow on her collar. I bent down and held out my hand.

  “Hi, Codi. I love the gold bone hanging from your collar.”

  After a thorough palm inspection, she didn’t reject me, but she wasn’t one hundred percent sold on me either. I got one lick before she stepped back and watched, reserving judgment. Smart dog.

  “She loves that bone,” Craig said. “We picked it up in England last year.”

  “Do you travel often?” Grey asked.

  He shook his head. A big smile spread across his friendly face. “Not as much as we’d like. Got to stay close to the grandkids.”

  I straightened and took a step back. Codi relaxed and sat next to Craig’s feet. “We saw you coming back from the groomer yesterday,” I said.

  His face reddened. He yanked off his Dodgers ball cap to run a hand through thick silver hair. “Ah, we were in a bit of a hurry to get back to the coach. Mrs. Sutton and Codi watch their favorite soap at one-thirty every afternoon without fail. They love their shows.” He settled the hat back on his head.

  Betty grabbed my arm. “Cookie, Craig hasn’t seen your brooch. I gave him your cell number in case he finds it later so he can call you.”

  Really? She just passed out my number to random strangers? He looked harmless, but there was a killer on the loose. A little discretion would be a good course of action.

  “I was just telling Betty that I’ve also lost something this week. My watch. A Bremont MBII. The wife gave it to me for our thirtieth wedding anniversary.”

  I whistled softly. That watch ran about six grand. “Oh, no. When did you have it last?”

  “I believe it was the night of the campfire.” Bored, Codi climbed on Craig’s leg, begging for attention. Or to continue their walk. Who knew how long Betty had been bending his ear? Craig bent down and patted Codi’s head.

  I turned to Grey and explained, “That was the night Addison died. The police showed up at the campfire to talk to me. It was rather chaotic.”

  Craig shook his head sadly. “It’s too bad what happened to that little girl. It doesn’t matter how many people didn’t like her. She didn’t deserve to die that way.”

  “What way is that?” Grey prodded.

  “I heard she was stabbed.” He rubbed his chin. “But that doesn’t make sense, since there wasn’t much blood at the scene.”

  I knew Addison hadn’t been stabbed, but had been smothered, possibly with a pillow, because I had seen the police officer’s notes. How did Craig know about the blood? Before I could ask, Grey had transformed into FBI mode.

  He relaxed his shoulders, then shoved his hands in his pockets. I watched as his facial muscles relaxed, presenting a nonthreatening appearance. “I didn’t realize you were at the crime scene.”

  “Oh, we’re parked in site eleven, across from the spa.” He pointed behind him. “I could see inside the tent before it was quarantined off. The wife and I heard raised vo
ices just before one-thirty. But it didn’t last long. That’s when their show is on, you know.” He looked down at Codi. He pulled a treat from the pocket of his jeans and held it out for his pooch. “The wife turned up the volume. There was a great fight scene between Nikki and Victor, and she didn’t want to miss a word.”

  “Are those two still at it?” Betty asked, bright-eyed.

  Grey shot her a look to keep quiet.

  “What? It’s not like you’re a cop. I just wanted to know about Victor and Nikki.”

  “Later,” I mouthed. Betty sulked, but pressed her lips together.

  “Could you tell if it was a man and a woman? Two women?” Grey continued to question him.

  Craig thought about it before replying. “It sounded like two women, but I can’t be certain. It could have been a man and a woman. It was hard to tell with Victor and Nikki arguing at the same time. They’ve been at it for twenty years.” He shared a conspiratorial smile with Betty.

  I lifted my hand to shield the morning sun from my eyes. “So your RV faces the back of the spa tent, right?”

  He nodded.

  “The other night, I noticed the back of the tent was loose. There was a hole just big enough for someone to squeeze through.” I pointed at Grey. “Don’t ask me how I know that.”

  “I wouldn’t dream of it.” His sarcasm wasn’t lost on me.

  I worked to keep my tone light. “I was curious if you’d ever seen anyone sneaking in and out of the tent.”

  He shook his head. “I can’t say that I have. Although, now that you mention it, after lunch, there was a young teen loitering around the back of the tent. Do you think he had something to do with Addison’s death?”

  “It’s possible. Do you remember what he looked like?” I didn’t recall seeing a teenager among the campers.

  “I just saw him from behind. Smaller size for a guy, thin. Wore a ball cap.”

  I pushed the bangs off my forehead. I looked at Betty. “You’ve met everyone here. Sound like anyone you’ve met?”

  She shook her head. “Sorry, Cookie.”

  Craig redirected the conversation back to me. “I noticed you were taking pictures at the campfire. Did you happen to take one of the s’more layout? Our youngest daughter is getting married next year and the wife thought the gourmet s’mores were a good idea for the reception.”

  “Sure.” I pulled out my cell phone and scrolled through my pictures. “Do you like this one?” I held the phone out for him to see.

  He nodded, a wide smile on his face. “Yes. That would be very helpful. Thank you.” He gave me his cell phone number and I texted him the photo.

  Once he was assured he’d received the picture, he said good-bye with the promise we’d talk more in the afternoon. After The Young and the Restless.

  Once Craig and Codi were out of earshot, Grey asked, “Can I see your pictures?”

  I shrugged. “Sure.” I handed him my phone.

  He positioned me in front of him as a shield from the sun so he could see the screen better.

  “Betty, I don’t remember ever seeing a teenager. Have you?” I asked.

  “Not one. Do you think he has bad eyes?”

  “It’s possible.” I looked over my shoulder at Grey. “I thought it would be fun to have some snapshots of the event to display at the store,” I explained.

  “Um-hm,” he responded absently as he looked at the photos.

  “Cookie, did you get a picture of me and Asher?” Betty stood next to Grey so she could see, too. “He travels with his wife’s ashes. I think he might have had something to do with her death.”

  Grey snapped to attention. “What did you say?” I recognized that tone. He was on alert.

  I spun round. This wasn’t going to end well. Betty had no idea who she was divulging information to.

  “Cookie and I came up with a plan to find the brooch. We decided to convince everyone to give us a tour of their rig so we could snoop in their private stuff to see if they had the pin without looking suspicious.”

  Grey closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “Fast forward to the part about his dead wife.”

  “She doesn’t know whose ashes he has. She’s making assumptions,” I interjected.

  Grey shot Betty a stern look. “You need to listen to Melinda on this one.”

  “Oh, sure. Take her side.” Betty pouted. “Are you going to let me finish my story or not?”

  Grey lowered the phone, giving her his undivided attention. “Please, continue.”

  “Thank you. So, like I was saying, I was in charge of snooping and Cookie was in charge of keeping Asher occupied. I found an urn hidden in the back of a drawer. He admitted to Marsha Thompson his wife died a few years ago. But when Marsha asked how she died, he wouldn’t tell her. We think he’s hiding something.”

  “Have you shared this theory of yours with anyone else?”

  “Just Cookie.” Betty wiggled her orange eyebrows, which seemed to be melting off her face. It was hot. We needed to get out of the sun.

  “Good. Don’t.” He returned to swiping through the photos again. “Mel’s right. You have to be careful—” His body tensed. “Who’s that?”

  “That’s him.” Betty exclaimed.

  I looked at the blurry photo of her and Asher. “Asher Knoxx. I don’t think he killed his wife, but I’m not sure I trust him. We’ve caught him in a lie or two.”

  Grey’s blue eyes pinned me with a look that conveyed we were going to talk about this later. In greater detail. “Trust your gut. Stay away from him.”

  He handed me the phone. I really wanted to ask more questions. The only reason I didn’t was because Betty was standing next to him, all ears. I flipped through the pictures, wondering what Grey had been looking for. I hadn’t realized I had taken some really bad photos. I’d done a poor job of framing some of the shots.

  I found it interesting I wasn’t ever able to get a clear shot of Asher. In one photo, I’d managed to get the back of Asher’s head and Craig Sutton’s arm. There was his watch, clear as day. He was right, he’d had the watch at the campfire.

  “Look, Handsome. You don’t get to be jealous of Asher.” Betty pouted.

  Grey sighed. “You need to trust me on this.”

  She glared at me through slitted eyes. “Do you trust him?”

  I nodded without hesitation. “With my life.” I crossed my heart, knowing that would seal the deal with her.

  She groaned. “I don’t like it, but I’ll do it. You two are a real damper on my love life.”

  THE NEXT ITEM ON Grey’s to-do list was to search through Addison’s box of belongings. I was also hoping there would be word of Hudson’s whereabouts. We headed to headquarters and found a young kid, about eighteen, frantically digging through Hudson’s desk.

  “Who are you?” I shouted. Could he have been the teenager Craig Sutton was talking about?

  He about jumped out of his army green cargo shorts. He whipped around, brown eyes wide. “J-John Bradley.”

  Grey motioned for us to stay back. “What are you looking for?”

  His gaze darted around the room, as if he were looking for a way out. “I’m Hudson’s backup. He didn’t check in with Loni at the ARL, so she sent me out here to find out what was going on. I can’t find him. I was looking for a schedule of events in hopes of tracking him down.” His voice quavered as he explained.

  “Do you have ID?” Grey asked.

  Betty looked impressed. “Yeah, how do we know Loni sent you?”

  With trembling fingers, he pulled his wallet out of his back pocket. He showed Grey his driver’s license. “Are you a cop?”

  Grey ignored the question. “Why don’t you use the phone at the desk over there and call Loni. Let her know Hudson’s been missing for over
twenty-four hours. She needs to call the police.”

  John swallowed hard. He nodded rapidly. “Okay,” he said, his voice squeaking. He scampered to the desk Grey had pointed to and picked up the phone.

  “Where are Addison’s belongings?” Grey asked quietly.

  I pointed to the box under Hudson’s desk, exactly where we’d left it yesterday. The three of us wasted no time retrieving it. Grey dumped out the contents on the desk.

  It hit me again that an entire life was reflected by the items spread across the desk. Hair brush, dirty aprons, wallet, makeup, pens, books, jewelry, etc.

  Betty picked up a diamond butterfly bracelet. “Nice.” She clipped it on her wrist. “So, what are we looking for?”

  I removed the bracelet and returned it to the desk. “The USB drive,” I explained quietly. But it wasn’t there.

  I was convinced that device was the key. Whatever was on the drive was the reason Addison had been killed. The person who knew that information would lead us to who had possession of the evidence. Had Pepper swiped the USB drive along with Addison’s recipes and my mama’s letters?

  I looked at Grey. “Now what?”

  With the swipe of his arm across the desk, Grey whisked the array of personal items back inside the box. I distracted Betty by asking her to find the blue folder I’d looked through yesterday. I wanted Grey to have the opportunity to look through it.

  While she was gone, I asked Grey, “Is there anything you can do? I’ve already called the police about Hudson and they didn’t do anything. The longer he’s gone, the more I’m certain there’s foul play involved.”

  “I’ll make a call.”

  I gripped his arm. My faced warmed at the touch of his smooth skin against my palm. I jerked my hand back, embarrassed that I couldn’t hide my reaction. I cleared my throat. “Thank you.”

  His face softened. “You’re welcome.”

  “Bad news.” Betty interrupted the moment. I wasn’t sure if I was relived or disappointed. “It’s not here. Someone took it.”

  John hung up the phone. He looked at us, fear in his eyes. “Loni’s calling the police. What do I do now?”