“I still wanted to help Teddy.” There were tears in Ruth’s eyes.
Which was when a knock finally sounded on the outside door. “Police,” called a brusque voice. “Open up.”
The look on Teddy’s face suggested he was weighing whether to shoot first and open up second. But he quickly realized the futility of that … for him. It wouldn’t have done us any good, either.
Soon as he lowered his weapon an iota, Dante rushed forward to grab it, and him, just as the door splintered open and the Burbank police, in gardening gear, poured in with their weapons drawn.
Ruth melted onto the floor, sobbing hysterically. “He killed Margaret,” she shrieked. “My husband’s a murderer.”
OF COURSE THE statements given by Dante and me to Detective Candace Melamed, who arrived a few minutes later, contradicted Ruth’s last allegations.
“Not that I’m certain,” I told the detective as we stood out on the patio, where she used a more obvious recording device to take my statement, “but I think you’ll hear on the recordings your nifty little device made that Ruth pretty much admitted her guilt; that last claim was probably an attempt to shift suspicion back on her husband, the way she’d started before.” I also mentioned how fascinating I found it that Ruth, whom I now believed to be the killer, had accused Wanda so quickly right after she’d found Margaret’s body.
This was the first time I saw the detective in something other than a formal suit. Today, she wore a Burbank PD T-shirt over jeans. I assumed it might have been her day off.
Her icy blue eyes looked almost warm for a change. Why not? I’d solved her case for her and had promised that she could take credit.
“I know you were narrowing your suspicions down on these two,” she told me. “Why did you think it was them—or one of them?”
I described my thought processes on the scenario about the key to Margaret’s unit—and the Gustins’, too.
“It wasn’t a certainty, of course,” I admitted. “In fact, it was a pretty sketchy reason to suspect them. But when the contractor Rutley Harris admitted losing a couple of keys to units around here, that made me really consider that incident with Teddy and focus on the Bertinettis more strongly than anyone else I was wondering about.”
I didn’t bother to mention that had I not obtained a confession from one Bertinetti or the other, I’d planned to try my scenario on Ivan Tradeau. He had, after all, once used a barbecue spit as a prop in a film he worked on. But now, he was exonerated. And Ruth had apparently used the spit simply because it was convenient.
“I’m glad you came through on this, Kendra,” Detective Melamed said as she prepared to let me leave. “Ned Noralles’ vouching for you notwithstanding, I really stuck my neck out here, letting you play your little games with the police department’s tacit approval.”
I thought the approval was a little more than tacit, but I didn’t tell her that. Plus, the credit she’d been searching for would be all hers. I’d even say so to my reporter friend Corina Carey.
I waited in the winding hallway while Candace took Dante’s statement. I saw a bunch of crime scene sorts going in and out of the Bertinettis’ unit, and some of the same condo residents who’d been around Margaret’s unit stood outside the tape barrier, exchanging gasps and comments and nods of their heads.
One of them was James Jerome, who came up to me and asked what was going on.
“I think Margaret’s killer has been apprehended by the cops,” I said, then added, good lawyer that I am, “allegedly.”
“Was it Teddy or Ruth?”
“I think they’ll have to sort that out,” I said tactfully, although I knew the answer: the wronged wife. Even so, Teddy was a possible accomplice after the fact, and he’d definitely held Dante and me at gunpoint. There were certainly charges that could be brought against him for that.
Wanda joined us, too. “Is it over?” she asked almost fearfully.
“I think so,” I said. “At least as far as you’re concerned.”
“Kendra, you’re the best,” she said, and hugged me.
I noticed then that the Gustins were among the people milling in the hall and mulling over what was going on.
As Dante and Candace Melamed reentered the hall, I turned toward them … which was when I saw a yellow streak stream past, through the open door of the Bertinettis’ unit.
“Lady Cuddles!” I shouted. And then I started laughing.
Chapter Thirty-two
SINCE IT WAS a crime scene, the cops had to be the ones to round up and boot Lady Cuddles from the Bertinettis’ condo unit. They seemed none too pleased that the elusive little kitty had once more potentially messed up parts of their investigation.
“But she helped to solve Margaret’s murder,” I reminded Candace Melamed when the detective was ultimately the one to carry the kitten into the hall and hand her to me. “Did you thank her?”
Candace glared through her glasses with her again chilly blue eyes, then smiled. “Don’t press your luck.”
Standing beside Wanda were the Gustins, and I handed their sweet, if slippery, pet back to them—without telling them, just then, about the stolen key. Some condo residents in the hall laughed and cheered. I figured they were among the pet-loving contingent.
I wondered what would happen to the pet-haters, with three of their most vocal supporters now out of the picture. At least I assumed that was so, with the Bertinettis in such trouble.
“You’re a heroine of this tale,” I assured the cute ginger kitten, who looked up at me with big blue feline eyes, the picture of utter innocence, and I couldn’t help smiling at her.
“Mew,” she responded.
I wasn’t the only human in the area to laugh.
LATER IN THE evening, we were in Dante’s car. We’d undergone further interrogation by Detective Melamed and her folks, who’d had additional inquiries after rerunning their recordings from the equipment they’d attached to me and, fortunately, monitored while we were in the Bertinettis’ condo unit.
I had a sense that they were fairly pleased with the results. At least they had a viable suspect or two to focus on in their ongoing investigation.
I’d done my duty and called Corina Carey—and given her an off-the-record exclusive for her tabloid TV show, National NewsShakers. In the brief interview, I’d extolled how well Detective Melamed of the Burbank PD had handled the investigation. Did Corina buy it? Who knew? But I believed she’d handle it the way I wanted.
I also called Esther Ickes to let her know that her criminal-law client Wanda might not need her much longer. Nice lady that she is, she applauded me, and we made arrangements to have lunch together soon—somewhere that I could meet her new kitty, Sacha.
Now, Dante and I were off to meet Wanda and Darryl for a late possible-victory dinner.
“I never knew you played the piano,” Dante said.
“It was ‘Chopsticks,’ not Chopin,” I reminded him. “Not that hard to learn or play. Most kids do.”
“I’m glad to say you’re not a kid anymore.” We were stopped at a light, and the look he aimed at me positively smoldered.
It made me simmer, even as I laughed.
“Me, too. Besides, amateur piano playing isn’t the only thing. There’s a lot about me you don’t know.”
“Yet.”
That single word also brought a reaction from me as the light turned green and we continued. It suggested that we’d be together longer. That he’d have time to learn lots about me in the future.
Fortunately, our conversation lightened up, and we soon reached the Italian restaurant on Ventura Boulevard that was our destination.
Wanda had gone ahead of us to meet Darryl, and they were already seated when we got there. The restaurant was one that had been there for a while, and it was filled with customers and aromas of garlic and the delightful sauces for which its food was known.
Darryl stood immediately and gave me a huge hug. Embracing my lanky friend was like hugging a sap
ling tree, but with a whole lot more fervor since he returned it, hard. “You did it, Kendra! I knew you’d figure out this murder, too—and save my Wanda.”
I didn’t bother to remind him that there’d been a time he had been peeved with me for supposedly causing the situation in the first place, simply by being a murder magnet.
This evening, Darryl wasn’t wearing a Doggy Indulgence knit shirt. Instead, it was a plain blue button-down. Wanda, too, wasn’t dressed characteristically. Instead of one of her gauzy tops, she’d donned a scoop-necked dress.
Dante and I hadn’t taken the time to change, but our attire was sufficiently casual for the restaurant.
We all sat down, and ordered a bottle of Chianti in celebration. Then I gave my friends a better rundown of all that had occurred than I’d been able to impart to Wanda while still at Brigadoon being interrogated.
“It’s all over then?” inquired Wanda in a tone that suggested she still didn’t believe it.
“No guarantees.” I’d seen cops choose not to accept the obvious, at least not at first. “But I’d say one or both of the Bertinettis are subject to imminent arrest—and my bet is on Ruth being found guilty of murdering Margaret.”
“Yay!” Darryl exclaimed, then proposed a toast. “To Kendra Ballantyne, exceptionally great attorney, petsitter, and murder magnet.”
“And murder solver,” I added.
“Hopefully for the last time,” Dante said, his glass lifted high. “As long as that’s the way she wants it.”
Hey! He’d gotten the message. He might have his own druthers about me and my life, but he couldn’t control it.
“It’s never exactly been within my control,” I said, “but that’s certainly my preference.” Our eyes met in a long and lengthy silent conversation.
Darryl cleared his throat. “Anyone interested in hearing about my conversation before with Kiki?”
I pulled my eyes away and raised my hand. “I am. What’s with her, the way she seemed so … well, bitchy about Wanda and you? Did she suddenly get the hots for you?”
No answer immediately. A server put a basket of rolls on the table, along with some interesting-looking sauce that smelled of garlic. We passed them all around, each of us indulging.
Then Darryl said, “No hots, fortunately. I guess I was just too preoccupied to pay enough attention to her, what she wants, and how badly she wants it.” This time, it was Darryl’s and Wanda’s eyes that caught and held, and I laughed. Darryl looked around in apparent embarrassment, giving a brief laugh. “Okay, the thing is that she felt like I wasn’t giving her enough responsibility. She wants to be a manager of Doggy Indulgence.”
Which was part of what she had told me.
“She wants more authority over who does what when,” Darryl continued. “Which dogs get special attention, who walks them, redesign of our play areas. All that. She’d also like more money. I told her that the reality of it all is that I’m the boss, she’s an employee, and though I’ll try to add some responsibility to what she has, and even give her a raise, it’ll be more a pat on the back than anything sizeable. So … well, she says she’s going to show me how dumb I am by starting her own pet daycare center somewhere near Doggy Indulgence.” He looked rather rueful. “I really don’t need the competition.”
“But you shouldn’t let her extort what she wants from you either,” Wanda interjected, then looked at me. “That is a form of extortion, isn’t it, Kendra?”
“Sounds like it to me,” I responded. “Stick to your guns, Darryl. I always talk up what a wonderful facility Doggy Indulgence is, and now I’ll do it even more.”
“Thanks,” he said glumly. “I may need all the extra endorsements I can get.”
BEFORE WE LEFT, I gave Wanda the extra white collars and name tags—those that I hadn’t stained with ketchup for catching the killer. Since Trudy, Lady Cuddles’s owner, had liked her original collar and tag, these could now be substituted for the missing one. Hopefully, the Gustins would soon get their key back from the cops. In any event, Lady Cuddles’s roaming days would soon be over … I hoped.
Wanda also told me she’d all but decided not to run for the vacant board seat. “Let someone else get involved in that nasty quagmire instead of me,” she said with a smile. “But rumor has it around there that the pet faction is gaining back all the strength it lost.”
“Great news!” I said.
Dante came home again with me that night. Not too big a surprise, since my place was a lot closer than his, and it was late. Plus, a lot had happened that day. I felt exhausted, and imagined he did, too.
Lexie greeted us eagerly at the door. But though she seemed quite happy to jump on Dante in greeting, she looked around him, as if expecting Wagner to appear and lead her into a chase around the yard, even so late at night.
Didn’t happen, of course. I was glad Dante had his assistant Alfonse at home to care for his dear German shepherd, but it wasn’t the same as Wagner having his master around. Nor Dante having his own, bigger dog to roughhouse with.
Our personal celebration that night was amazing. And exhausting. I fell asleep cradled in Dante’s arms.
Morning came early, and with it came additional celebration. We eventually had to hurry to get dressed. I gave Lexie a quick constitutional in the yard, and she was soon joined by Beggar. And I was joined both by Dante and Rachel.
“I’m really going to miss this,” Rachel said with a sigh. “Beggar will, too. We’ll have to schedule a lot of play dates. Our new place isn’t very far from here.” She looked at me then, her big brown eyes even larger than usual. They darted sidelong toward Dante, who was standing right beside me. “I hope I didn’t give anything away that I wasn’t supposed to.”
“No,” I said as cheerfully as I could muster. “I think Dante knows.” I believed he’d overheard the conversation I’d had with my tenants right out here in my yard, even if we hadn’t gotten around to discussing it. And all I’d said to Rutley Harris, when I’d invited him to check the place out for a nonexistent remodeling, had clinched it. It could all have been lies, in my attempt to catch him. But that part wasn’t.
Rachel looked at me expectantly, as if she figured he’d have worked out a solution for me.
Which he most likely would have, had I elected to allow him to control my life.
Instead of assuaging her conscience, I went over a few petsitting issues with my assistant, and then we went our respective ways. I brought Lexie along, since after my first few petsitting stops I intended to take her to Darryl’s. Rachel headed toward her own clients.
I took my time, as always, enjoying every one of my pet charges and trying to ensure that they each enjoyed my visit. Lexie, too—at least in the homes where canines resided.
I’d soon finished my visits in areas beyond Studio City and made my way back in that direction. Time to drop Lexie at Doggy Indulgence.
To my surprise, Dante was there, standing at the greeting desk with Darryl. No sign of the dreaded Kiki anywhere, but that was fine with me.
Darryl was smiling so hard that the edges of his lips nearly seemed to reach the frames of his wire-rimmed glasses. “Come into my office for a minute. You, too, Dante.” He put his arm around my shoulder and steered me there, saying with obvious delight, “You’ll never guess what Dante did to solve my problem, Kendra.”
The only problem I could think of was the one about Kiki. But what could Dante have done about that? With Darryl directing me, I couldn’t easily turn to see if I could read it in Dante’s dark eyes, so I just went along.
I didn’t have to wait long to find out what Dante had done. He and I were soon sitting in the chairs facing Darryl’s cluttered desk.
“Tell her, Dante,” Darryl said with a laugh.
“Why don’t you?” said the guy beside me—who always seemed to have an answer for anything. Was I glad about that or irritated?
That might depend on his solution here.
“Well, you know Kiki said she intende
d to start her own doggy day care facility to compete with me.” Darryl’s face clouded slightly, and I nodded. “She isn’t going to start it. Dante is.”
“What!” I exclaimed, wondering why Darryl seemed so pleased about the idea.
“You know that some HotPets include sideline businesses, depending on the location,” Dante said calmly as I glared at him. “Some of them have grooming facilities, others have boarding kennels, and others—sometimes the same ones—also have day care. I’ve decided to open a day care facility and hire Kiki to manage it. I’ve seen her here. She seems quite good at caring for animals, and Darryl is giving her a glowing reference.”
I felt utterly confused. What were these men doing?
And then the explanation became evident.
“Where, exactly, will this day care facility be?” I inquired.
“Santa Monica,” Dante said with a smile.
Which was when I joined these two with a smile of my own. Santa Monica was sufficiently far away from Studio City. The new facility wouldn’t compete directly with Darryl, and it would make Kiki happy enough to keep her out of his hair.
I jumped up, grabbed Dante till he stood, too, and gave him a great big kiss. “You rock!” I told him.
“I like to think so,” he said.
THAT DAY, I called Althea to fill her in on what had transpired.
“Another murder solved!” said my favorite security company employee and computer hacker. “You’re amazing, Kendra.”
I had to ask. “Will you tell Jeff?” I’d felt as if I hadn’t reached full closure with my former lover—at least not from his perspective.
“Next time I talk to him. Would you believe—” She stopped.
“What?” I urged.
“Turns out the new petsitter he’s got staying at his house was referred to him by his dear ex-wife, Amanda, who apparently preferred not hiring you anymore for her cats. And—”
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