Feline Fatale

by Linda O. Johnston

  “I already am,” she said dryly. “And … well, I’m afraid I’m still under suspicion about Margaret’s death. I don’t know that I should take on anything like a campaign like this till it’s resolved.”

  I didn’t disagree. But I also wondered if suspicion was being cast on Wanda to keep her preoccupied and not wholly centered on the pet issue. If so, was the actual killer involved, or one or more of the anti-pet folks?

  “You may be right,” I said. “By the way, how’s Lady Cuddles today? Home in her apartment, as she should be?”

  Wanda’s gaze suddenly grew anxious. “She was before. And I certainly hope she still is.”

  “Me, too.”

  They left soon afterward. I was worried about Wanda, and Darryl, too. And their relatively new relationship. They were both clearly upset by this whole situation. And its outcome was absolutely unclear.

  So was Wanda’s position as a possible murder suspect.

  Well, I hoped to help out with both.

  Before I left the office to start my petsitting, I called Brody Avilla.

  “I’ll have at least an initial report for you tomorrow, Kendra. I promise.”

  “That’s great,” I said. After the meeting today, I’d hoped to have some other possible suspects for him to look into—pro-pet people who might have hated Margaret.

  But of those who’d come to my office, most had stayed fairly quiet.

  That meant my original suspects, those on the board, had the best likelihood of wanting to do away with their pet-hating counterpart. Them, Margaret’s ex-husband, Paulino Shiler, and that contractor Rutley Harris.

  I hoped that the info Brody gave me on them tomorrow would tell me exactly who the killer could be.

  Chapter Sixteen

  NO DANTE THAT night at my place. Nor did I go to his. He had another early morning meeting to mull over, and I had petsitting duties first thing.

  We talked, at least. He expressed concern over what I was up to. He said he’d talked to Brody, too. No surprise. But he’d spoken with his longtime friend after I had, and he assured me that Brody would report some interesting information to me … tomorrow.

  So, Lexie and I headed for bed.

  And, yeah, I thought about Dante. Probably even dreamed of him, though my conscious mind wouldn’t admit it when I woke.

  The next day, I took Lexie again to Doggy Indulgence—partly to check on Darryl. She accompanied me on part of my petsitting route first, though. Getting to Doggy Indulgence too early could mean I’d miss seeing my old friend again.

  He was, indeed, there when Lexie and I strolled in just before I prepared to head for my office. He stood near the front desk, engaged in conversation with Kiki.

  I hated to interrupt them—mostly because I didn’t want another confrontation, or even a dirty look, from the bleached-blond actress wannabe who was so good with animals but so awful with people. I admit I was getting even cattier where she was concerned, and she seemed to get nastier the longer I knew her.

  Even so, as Lexie lunged toward the main room’s zone where other dogs were already engaged in supervised feigned fights over toys, I approached. And heard, even though their voices were muted, that Kiki and Darryl were arguing.

  “But you know I can do it,” she said. “You used to be so receptive to my ideas. Before …”

  Her voice trailed off, and I could only imagine the ending of what she’d begun. Before what? Before the first of the year?

  Before he’d become involved with Wanda?

  That could imply Kiki had some kind of crush on Darryl. I hadn’t seen it before, but maybe it arose only after he became unattainable.

  I decided to rescue him, though I was certain my long, lanky friend could take care of himself.

  “Good morning,” I said brightly.

  The look Darryl leveled on me didn’t seem especially relieved. In fact, he looked a little annoyed. “Hi, Kendra. Excuse us for a minute, will you?” I thought he was talking to Kiki at first, but then I realized he was still looking at me.

  Not only didn’t he want me to save him from a difficult conversation, but he wanted me to butt out.

  I attempted not to allow my feelings to be hurt. And my curiosity not to be stoked—too much. “No problem. I just wanted to say hi. Lexie’s here for the day, so I’ll see you later.” I started to leave. Slowly.

  Even as I heard the conversation again heat up behind me. I thought I heard Darryl utter the words, “Like I was saying, things are different now.”

  Kiki’s response: “After all I’ve done for you … well, things are about to change, unless—”

  But my shuffling had already gotten me too near the door to hear more. I turned and took one more look toward where Lexie played. I darted a stealthy glance toward Darryl and Kiki, and saw them staring each other down.

  Then I was gone.

  I HAD A court day coming up soon in an elder-law case, so I started to prepare for it after reaching my office. I’d checked with Mignon when I came in. She’d fielded no calls for me.

  Nor did my phone ring as I sat there occasionally staring at it, willing Brody to finally finish his research and let me know what he’d found.

  “Hey, Kendra,” my dear friend and boss Borden Yurick eventually said from my doorway. His usual colorful aloha shirt that day had a blue background. “I haven’t seen you all day. Just wanted to be sure you’re here and okay.”

  “Yes and yes,” I said with a smile. “And you?”

  “Yes, and hungry. Up for lunch again today?”

  “Why not?” But as I grabbed my purse from a drawer and stood to leave, my phone rang. “Mind waiting for a second while I see who this is?” If it was Brody, I’d have to beg off lunch.

  As it turned out, I still missed lunch, even though it wasn’t the guy researching possible suspects for me.

  “Kendra, this is Julie Tradeau, from the Brigadoon board. I’m … well, I’d really like to talk to you about this pet situation. And Margaret. Plus, I want to show you something. Can you come to my place this afternoon?”

  MY CURIOSITY SWIRLING, I arrived at Brigadoon less than an hour later. I had walked with Borden to a nearby sandwich place, but got mine to go. That way, I at least had a little time to spend with my sweet, grandfatherly mentor.

  I ate in the car, so when I arrived at the condos, I was full of food—and interest in what had gotten Julie to call me.

  Plus, I was worried about the ethics of this meeting. And of my acting as attorney to the association while I investigated some of its members as possible killers. I’d therefore come up with an alternate idea for its legal representation.

  I buzzed the button at the outside gate, and Julie let me through to the parking lot. I made a quick call on my cell phone, reached my friend and fellow attorney Avvie Milton, and got her go-ahead to recommend her as an attorney for the Brigadoon board. She had been my fellow lawyer at the firm of Marden, Sergement and Yurick a few years ago, and had recently left to join a boutique firm in the Valley. We had more than that in common. We’d both, at different times, been the lover of one of the firm’s partners, philandering Bill Sergement.

  After that call, I placed another—this one to Wanda, to warn her what I was up to. She was off on a doggy walk with one of her clients. She didn’t have any problem with what I proposed—as she shouldn’t, since she wasn’t on the condo board. At least not yet.

  But she, too, was curious about what Julie wanted. I told her I’d fill her in later, as long as it was appropriate.

  I had a feeling Julie might be about to impart her own suspicions on Margaret’s murder—or to set me on someone else in an attempt to take my suspicions off her. I wasn’t convinced now that Julie didn’t do it. I’d see how I felt about it later.

  In a little while, I was in Julie’s lovely unit—the site of the condo association meeting last night.

  Julie’s appearance hadn’t particularly struck me before. Her facial expressions said a lot—smiling or scrunch
ed, it seemed. But today, she seemed to want to make a big impression on me. Her hair was much lighter than its prior nondescript brown, and I recalled that she was a hairstylist to the stars. Must have used a little of that magic on herself. She’d also put on more makeup than I’d seen before. Pretty, yes, but a bit much for midafternoon. Only thing ordinary about her that day was her clothes: standard blue jeans and a navy print shirt that wasn’t tucked in.

  I remained in the business casual I’d worn to the office, so I at least didn’t feel that I embarrassed myself as we sat in her living room—looking much larger now that all the folding chairs for the meeting were removed and what must be the regular furnishings were restored. I put my big purse down beside me, then looked expectantly toward Julie, now at the other end of her big, fluffy sofa on the polished hardwood floor.

  “In case you’re wondering,” she began, taking a sip from a mug of coffee. She’d offered me some, too, and my cup sat on an ornately carved coffee table. “You haven’t met my husband, Ivan; he’s away on a trip.” That scrunchy look came back to her face. “He always seems to be gone when things are going on around here that I need him for.” She laughed. “But that’s the nature of the film industry. It calls, and people who work in it have to answer.”

  She seemed to await my opinion, so I nodded. “Guess so,” I said. “My only real involvement has been with the Animal Auditions TV show, and it’s filmed locally.”

  “Oh, that’s right. I love that show!” Again her smile.

  But I was starting to get irked. Why was I here?

  Before I could inquire, I saw a sleek black form emerge from one of the bedrooms and pad indifferently in my direction—the cat I’d seen here before. “That’s Smouser, isn’t it?” I asked.

  “Yes, that’s my baby,” Julie said in a baby-talk tone. Smouser slinked up to the sofa, levitated onto its back, and settled between the two of us, ignoring the humans who just happened to be there.

  I laughed, reached out to stroke her soft back for a moment, then said, “Julie, I need to get back to my law firm soon, and then I have petsitting responsibilities. So—”

  “Oh, yes, you’re a petsitter like Wanda, aren’t you?”

  I nodded. “Which makes me partial to the current board members, who like having pets around here. I want to hear what you want to talk to me about, but I also think I’d better not take on legal representation of the board, or even any of you as individuals. I could have a conflict of interest. But I have someone I can highly recommend to you, and I’ve already talked to her about the possible assignment.”

  “That’s great, Kendra.”

  “So,” I said, “why did you want me to come here today?”

  As I’d suspected, she seemed eager to talk about everyone else around, and how they hadn’t liked Margaret. “I’ve heard that you solve murders,” she said, “so I wanted to let you know what I’ve been thinking. Not that I have any real evidence, like on those TV shows and all. But I know the people around here, and you probably don’t. Except Wanda, of course.”

  She sounded utterly earnest. And serious. And innocent.

  And I didn’t buy any of it. But I did listen.

  “First, Wanda herself. You know Margaret and she were really fighting a lot about Margaret’s attempts to ban pets here at Brigadoon altogether.” She looked at me as if expecting an answer, and I nodded. “I’ve heard that the Burbank police seem to think Wanda killed Margaret, thanks to their fighting. I like Wanda, and I know she’s your friend. I’d hate to think she did it, but … well, I actually heard them arguing the very night that Margaret died. If you’re serious about learning the truth, Kendra, then don’t count her out yet.”

  “Mmmhmm,” I responded noncommittally. “Interesting. Who else is on your suspect list?”

  “Well, there’s James Jerome. Same motive, but maybe even stronger. He just loves his guinea pigs, and he’s been fighting with Margaret at board meetings since the day she was elected, midyear.”

  Since this was January, I assumed Margaret had been on the board for about six months, and Julie confirmed it.

  She next turned to the other three board members: John, Sheldon, and Rick. All pro-pet, and therefore Margaret haters.

  By then, my mind was saying yeah, yeah, yeah. And Why am I here? And starting to tune out.

  This lady was protesting too much, and quickly vaulting to the top of my suspect list. Nothing new. Nothing—

  And then she said something that made my visit worthwhile.

  “I only wish my husband, Ivan, was here to help me through this hard situation with the pets and Margaret and all. We both despised what that woman was doing. But he’s been gone for a week now. Won’t be back till Sunday afternoon.”

  This was Thursday. Margaret had been dead for a week.

  She had died last Thursday.

  “Oh, was Ivan here to help you through the difficult time when Margaret was found dead?”

  “No.” Julie stared straight at me in a manner that suggested she lied. “He left on his trip just before she died.”

  HAD JULIE TOLD the truth about the timing, or was I reading things into her words and body language that weren’t there?

  Okay, I didn’t know Ivan Tradeau. So what if he was on the pet-lovers’ side with Julie, and didn’t like Margaret? I didn’t know if he had any better motive to kill her than any other pet person around there.

  But he immediately latched on to at least the end of my suspect list.

  And gave me a good reason to call Brody. Soon.

  Of course I didn’t mention my newly stirred suspicions to Julie. Instead, I thanked her for her hospitality and thoughts. And for her good wishes that I caught Margaret’s killer quickly—which of course could again have been an attempt to throw me off both her and her husband as substantial possibilities.

  I handed Julie the contact info for Avvie Milton, reminding her that Avvie would be the better choice for attorney in the association’s legal matters regarding this pet stuff. Like me, Avvie thought like a litigator. That meant she, too, would attempt to settle disputes before they got too hot and heavy … if that was possible.

  I gave Smouser a final pat good-bye, earning a soft purr and a glance from half-closed eyes. I smiled again. I liked this cat.

  I was a lot less sure about his owners.

  “Thanks for coming, Kendra,” Julie said as she saw me into the hall.

  My mind was awash with what I needed to do next: Return to my car. Call Brody from there. Head back to my office, for at least a few minutes, to tend to some unfinished business that shouldn’t wait till tomorrow. Hurry off to do my petsitting.

  Call Dante.

  See if we were able to get together tonight. And—

  Oh, hell. Just as I was about to enter the stairway, I saw a dash of golden-yellow fur. A ginger cat.

  Lady Cuddles had done it again.

  Chapter Seventeen

  THIS SCENARIO WAS starting to feel much too familiar.

  Especially when the anti-pet Bertinettis just happened to show up. They lived in another building toward the back, upstairs near James Jerome—as well as the unit Lady Cuddles called home. Why were they here, so close to Julie Tradeau’s digs?

  “Look, it’s that creepy little cat again,” huffed Teddy.

  “And look who’s after it … again.” Ruth glared straight into my face.

  I glanced at her for only an instant as I continued my dash down the zigzagging hallway after the fast feline.

  I caught up with Lady Cuddles just as she jumped onto the sill of a window leading out to yet another balcony. I grabbed her and stuck her beneath my arm. Good thing I was wearing a jacket atop a long-sleeved shirt on this chilly January day, since the annoyed, meowing kitty stuck out her claws and raked me with them. I wrapped her close, tucked into my arms, talking to her soothingly. She must have recognized me, since she quickly relaxed.

  I headed down the nearest stairway, hoping I could avoid seeing the Bertinett
is again. No such luck. They stood in the downstairs hall, apparently awaiting me.

  “What are you going to do now with that creature, Kendra?” Ruth demanded.

  “Take her home, of course,” I said sweetly.

  “But you don’t belong here,” Teddy reminded me.

  “Yes. What if you do something you shouldn’t, like steal the cat?” said Ruth.

  I’m a professional petsitter as well as a lawyer, I wanted to remind them. Plus, unlike them, I was a pet aficionado. And I was worried about this cute, elusive kitty. I wanted to ensure she got home safely and that every measure was taken to keep her enclosed there—for her sake and Wanda’s, as well as for mine.

  Instead, I said, “You’re welcome to come along, of course. Supervise me on behalf of the residents of Brigadoon. Whatever.”

  “I think we’ll do just that,” Ruth said.

  So the three of us—four, if you counted Lady Cuddles, now nestling in my arms—exited this building and headed for the one in the middle rear, where her owners, the Gustins, had their unit.

  “Since you’re here, would you mind opening the door?” I asked as we reached the entry to that building. Otherwise, I’d have to wait for Wanda.

  I shifted Lady Cuddles while I reached into my large purse and pulled out my cell phone while the Bertinettis merely watched. Wanda was in charge of this wayward kitty, so she’d need to know anyway. Plus, she really should come back here both to let me into the unit, and to check with me to try to ensure that Lady Cuddles was enclosed in it securely this time.

  I pressed in the number that called her automatically, and she answered right away. I quickly explained the situation.

  “Oh, Kendra, no! Fortunately, I’m already in Burbank. I’ll be there in about ten minutes.”

  Time I was afraid I’d have to spend with the Bertinettis hovering over me, but what choice did I have? Unless, of course, I wanted to turn Lady Cuddles over to their kind custody and care … not!