Darby stayed overnight in the guestroom. (Get this, Fluffy had slept with her. Maybe she could sense they were mourning the same person. Or maybe Fluffy was still trying to steal Darby’s coffee.)
Once we’d eaten breakfast and had walked the dogs, I’d convinced Darby to take the day off. There was no telling how much of what had happened last night had made its way into the gossip mill. One more day out of the spotlight seemed like a good idea. And I needed a dog-sitter.
It was a hair down kinda day. Dressed in Burberry Brit skinny jeans and an Armani Collezioni stretch silk top, I pulled on my motorcycle boots-ready to kick some booty. I grabbed my leather jacket from the hall closet and headed to Bow Wow.
I blew through the shop doors by ten-thirty, giving me a solid thirty minutes before I opened. I ran an inventory check on the computer, restocked a few shelves, started the complementary coffee brewing and checked my cell messages.
I had three voicemails, one from Owen, one from Mama, and the last one from Alex, Mona’s chauffer. Owen’s message was short, simple and swift. Be at his office today at three to discuss Mona’s will. Mama’s was short and explosive. Call her. Immediately.
Alex’s message was puzzling. He was stopping by the boutique to give me something. First, how’d he get my number? Second, what in the world did he have that I’d want? Mona had better not have a secret dog in hiding.
I’d hung the last of the large dog hoodies when my cell rang. Caught up in the task, I yanked the phone out of my jeans back pocket and answered automatically, “Bow Wow Boutique.”
“Melinda, are you at work already? Did you talk to Mitchell?” Mama’s voice boomed in my ear.
“Yes.” I cradled the phone against my shoulder and pulled a stack of pink small dog sweatshirts from the box. I’d already bought two for Missy. On the backside it read, “I Heart Mom.”
“And?” Mama asked, out of patience.
I hesitated and grimaced. “He was talkative.”
“I knew it. Oh, Melinda.” She sounded frantic. “I’ve left message after message for him for two days. He hasn’t returned a single call.”
I picked up the empty box and carried it to the counter. “Short of flying to Vegas, Mama, what do you want me to do?”
“Call his friends. Call his boss. Find him.”
Why she couldn’t do any of that was beyond me. Mitch was fine. He was probably doing what I typically did when she called, ignoring her. On the other hand, if there really was an emergency, and I blew off my brother because our mama was a drama queen, I’d never forgive myself.
“I’ll see what I can do.” I hung up before I changed my mind. I tossed the phone on the counter. Hopefully she’d forgotten the threat of a surprise visit.
How was I supposed to search for a brother who didn’t want to be found while clearing Darby’s name? And I still hadn’t dealt with Tova and her frivolous lawsuit.
Within minutes of opening Bow Wow for business, a distinguished older gentleman wandered inside. He was of average height and average build. His receding hairline framed a familiar face I was having a hard time placing.
“Hello, Ms. Langston.” His salt and pepper moustache smiled.
It was Mona’s driver, Alex. His khaki pants, buttoned-down shirt and tweed sports coat threw me. Normally, he wore all black, including a cute little driver’s cap.
“Hi, Alex.” I met him in front of the dog bowls and treat jars. He held out a strong hand, which I quickly accepted.
“How are you?” he asked.
“Trying to understand Mona’s dog. Do you have any advice?”
“Unfortunately, no suggestions. I would consider it a favor if you’d allow me to take her for a ride from time to time. She so enjoyed being chauffeured around town. Of course, you are welcome, too.”
“I appreciate the offer, but I’ll pass. Fluffy, on the other hand, is yours anytime you want. If you’d like to stop by for a visit today, she’s at my place, with Darby.”
I motioned for him to follow me to the coffee bar. “Coffee? Tea?” I offered. Southern hospitality was hard to deny.
“Coffee. Black. I heard about Ms. Darby. It’s true then?” His steady voice wasn’t judgmental, more that he was verifying a rumor.
I poured a mug of coffee and handed it to him. “It’s true,” I said. “There’s proof.”
He nodded, but there was something in his eyes that made me a little uneasy.
“The birth certificate,” he said.
“Did you know about it?”
“Not at all. Ms. Michaels was a private person. One did not cross the line between employee and employer.”
“I see.”
I filled my mug with hot water and tossed in a lemon. “Were you with Mona the day she died?” I asked, trying to put my finger on why the alarm bells were ringing in my head.
He sipped his coffee. “Unfortunately, Monday was my day off. I was playing the ponies with friends in Los Alamitos.”
“Did you win?”
“A couple hundred.” He flashed a self-conscious smile.
The Los Alamitos Race Track was about thirty-five miles northeast of Laguna. Depending on traffic and time of day, the drive was approximately forty-five minutes to an hour.
That wasn’t enough time to whack Mona and still make it to the track without being missed. It was doubtful Alex would find his name on my suspect list. Time for a new line of questions.
I know, I know. I promised Malone I’d stay out of his investigation. At the time I gave him my word, I had no intention of getting involved. But that was before Darby was suspect numero uno. I knew in my heart she was innocent. If I didn’t find real evidence to point Malone in a different direction, my best friend was about to find herself arrested.
So I did what I do best. I jumped in with both feet, eyes wide open.
“Do you know who might have wanted to hurt Mona?”
He shook his head. “The police questioned me. I’m afraid I didn’t have much to tell them.”
“What did you tell them?” I asked.
“Ms. Michaels and her ex exchanged words the week she died. Subsequently, she avoided his calls. Now that I’ve had time to reflect, she was acting quite peculiar really.”
“How’s that?” I leaned closer, practically begging for anything that might clear Darby.
“She began to spend a significant amount of time away from the house. Upon occasion, she’d asked me to drive without a specific destination.”
“Come on now. You went for a joy ride around Laguna?” Please, this wasn’t my first rodeo. You couldn’t waste more than thirty minutes driving around town.
“San Diego and LA mostly,” he said.
As my Daddy would say, “he was as serious as the business end of a.45.” How crazy was Mona? Did she think she was being followed? Was she hiding from someone? Or maybe she was really that shallow and bored, and craved adoration even from perfect strangers.
“You never stopped. She didn’t get out? No one got in and drove with you?” I asked.
He shook his head and shrugged his shoulder as if to say he couldn’t explain her either. “It was always Ms. Michaels and Fluffy.” His forehead wrinkled. “There was this one time, the pet psychic came along.”
Now we’re talking people. “Did you tell the police?”
“I didn’t recall until now,” he reminded me.
“When was Jo with you? Where’d you go?”
“I believe it was right before the Fur Ball. We picked up the psychic at her business, then drove to San Clemente. I dropped them off for approximately an hour.”
For someone who didn’t remember all of this important information until thirty seconds ago, he suddenly seemed to have total recall. “Where did you take them?”
“I don’t recollect.”
I spoke too soon. “Please try, Alex. It could be important. Where did you go?”
His intelligent brown eyes clouded with disappointment. “I’m sorry, Ms. Langston. I truly don’t remember. I do keep a log at the garage. If you really think it’s important, I can look up the information and get back to you.”
“Please do. Did you hear their conversation?”
He shifted his weight. “You understand, part of my job is to not hear what my employer says.”
This is what I was picking up on. He didn’t want to seem disloyal, but he’d sought me out for a reason. “Sometimes you can’t help it. Maybe what you accidentally overheard could help find her killer.”
His lips thinned, and he turned a wee bit pompous. “I signed a confidentiality agreement. I should not have shared what I have.”
He was making me crazy with his back and forth. “Normally, I’d agree. But your boss is dead. She was murdered. I’m sure she’d rather you help find her killer than to keep quiet because of some standard contract every employee in southern California signs.”
He cleared his throat. “The psychic told Mona Fluffy didn’t like to wear the crown.”
That was it? That’s what had him twisted in knots like a scared virgin on her wedding night?
That wasn’t a big dark secret, which once revealed would save Darby. Well, hells bells. “Trust me, she likes the crown.” Sarcasm dripped from each word.
Even I had liked the crowns. At least in the beginning. But then I realized the crowns didn’t belong to me. They belonged to my mama. And my Aunt Kat. But never me-the one who’d strutted her stuff across the stage like a 4-H calf at the Texas State Fair.
“Was Mona upset? Mad? Did she believe her?” Did she laugh in Jo’s face? Because I sure the heck would have.
A crooked smile tilted the edge of his mouth, and his eyes softened. “I believe her exact words were, ‘Don’t be a stupid cow.’”
I laughed. Now that sounded like Mona. He must have misinterpreted my amusement.
“Mrs. Michaels didn’t have a lot of friends,” Alex explained needlessly. “Her personality was… difficult.”
Difficult. He was endearing, protecting Mona’s ruthless reputation. “You’re very diplomatic. What was Jo’s reaction?”
He tugged at his collar. “They talked quietly most of the time, but I could tell she was upset.”
He was downplaying the interaction between them. I set my mug on the coffee bar and closed the space between us, hoping I was instilling confidence. “How upset?”
“She said, ‘To me you’re dead. I’ve already said my good-byes.’” He recited the words as if he were auditioning for a Shakespearean play.
Jo did it. Jo killed Mona. I knew it. I knew it.
I wanted to jump up and down and clap my hands like a goon. If I’d been alone, I’d have line danced from one end of the store to the other.
I gripped his arm. “Thank you, Alex.”
“It would be,” he cleared his throat and looked around the empty shop, “inconvenient if it got out that I told you this.”
“I understand. I won’t say anything unless I have to. But I can’t let an innocent person be accused of a crime she didn’t commit.”
“Of course not. Well, I won’t keep you any longer. I came by to give you this.” He pulled a small electronic device from his sports coat pocket and held it in the palm of his hand.
“What the heck is it?” I asked, looking it over.
“Fluffy’s digital video camera. It attaches to her leather collar.”
“She wore this?”
“Upon occasion.”
“You’re kidding me? How does it work?” I could sell a ton of pet video cameras. A day in the life of your pet would be an instant best seller.
Alex gave me a crash course on the FAQs. It attached to the collar with a special clip on the backside. The rechargeable battery lasted approximately five hours. It recharged and downloaded the recording with a USB cable attached to a computer.
“I found it under the backseat on the passenger side. It must have fallen out of Ms. Michaels purse,” he explained.
It was possible the camera may have recorded something important. Determination exploded in my chest. I wanted to close the shop, go home and watch it.
I knew she couldn’t have recorded the murder, but maybe she had somehow recorded evidence. What if she’d recorded that last conversation between her and Jo? What if that was already downloaded on her computer? Excitement bubbled with each possibility.
I had to get back to Mona’s.
“Please don’t let Mr. Michael’s know that I gave this to you,” Alex asked.
“Sure. Whatever you say,” I answered absently before it registered what he’d said. I looked up and asked, “What? Why?”
“He wanted it, but Mrs. Michaels refused to give it to him.”
Mona could have refused to hand it over because she was mean and nasty. But that didn’t explain why Cliff wanted it.
Before I could ask more questions, the shop door swung open, and television teen star Shar Summers waltzed inside, her Chinese Crested, Babycakes, nestled in the crook of her arm. As God is my witness, Babycakes was one ugly dog. Shar, on the other hand, was adorable. They were both so tiny they could be mistaken for keychain charms.
Pooch and human were decked out in hot pink. Hairless by breed, the pup was wrapped in a pink “fur” coat, which perfectly matched Shar’s faux fur vest. They were also wearing black Uggs, Babycakes sporting the doggie kind.
Only the actress wore pink leggings, apparently that was the imaginary line Shar didn’t cross-pants for her dog. Go figure.
I caught Alex’s horrified look before he recovered and molded a neutral expression to his face. A chuckle lodged in my throat.
“Looks like someone threw up a bottle of Pepto-Bismol, and it splashed all over them,” I whispered.
“Indeed.”
“Excuse me for a moment,” I said, and quickly met the cutesy twosome at the counter. “Hey, Shar. I’m glad you could stop in. Are you ready for your trip to Europe?”
Her TV series, Bibbidi Bobbidi Boo, about triplets who perform magic, was filming an episode in England. Just for clarification, there weren’t triplets, just Shar, playing triplets.
She covered Babycake’s ears, one of the few parts on his miniature body with hair. “Shh. It’s a surprise. Baby doesn’t know we’re taking a widdle twip.”
I cringed at her baby talk. I never understood why people insisted on talking down to their baby, let alone their animal. Especially people with small dogs.
I lowered my voice, “I have your special order in the office. I’ll grab it.”
I wanted to get back to Alex as quickly as I could. I hurried to the storage area and immediately found the plush white box containing the $35,000 doggles Shar had commissioned. (No, that’s not a typo. Let me spell it out-thirty-five thousand dollars. For sunglasses. For a dog. Hello!)
I hadn’t been gone for more than two minutes, but that was enough time for Alex to escape my questions. Dang.
I set the box on the counter and slid it to Shar. “Here you go.”
“I’m not sure I should open it in front her.” She pushed out her bottom lip and looked at me expectantly.
As if I’d ever let myself be manipulated by pouting. Sheesh. There was no way I’d hold that dog. Last I’d heard she’d not only bitten Caro, but she’d bitten Detective Malone, too.
Thinking about Malone made me think about Mona, which made me think about how often Cliff’s name popped up. He could have killed Mona. He had motive and opportunity. And it would have been easy for him to get into the gated community without drawing attention.
Then there was Jo. Like Darby, Jo couldn’t have gotten into the neighborhood without the guard letting her though or without using the access code. Did Jo have other clients in the neighborhood? Could they have given her the access code?
“Well?” Shar asked, pulling me out of my mental-sleuthing.
It was time to get rid of Bibbidi-Bobbidi-Two so I could bop over to Mona’s and find her computer. “How about, I open the box and hold it above Baby’s head?”
She looked lovingly at her pooch, then nodded. “I guess so.”
I pried open the box, showcasing rimless sunglasses with diamonds in the shape of hearts on the pink lenses. I held it just above Babycakes’ head like I said I would.
A soft growl started at the back of her throat (uh, the baby dog, not the baby girl). I remained calm, but I had zero confidence teenage blondie could handle her itty bitty doggie.
“Are you sure that’s the right shade of pink?” Shar asked.
Baby’s almond eyes stared me down. “Positive. Pink Bubble Gum.” I closed the box and moved out the line of biting.
Shar whipped out her pink Coach wallet and handed me her black credit card. I rang up the doggles, then handed the receipt and bag to Shar.
“I put a couple of sweet potato treats in the bag.”
“Thanks, Mel.”
I followed them to the door, locking it as soon as their baby feet hit the sidewalk. I quickly hung the closed sign before more business wandered inside. I was a woman on a mission. I’d clear Darby’s name and, in the process, find out who hated Mona so much they killed her.