4 Yip/Tuck (4 page)

I DON’T MEAN to sound uncaring, but finding murder victims has become, well I don’t want to say routine, but it’s not as unusual as it should be for someone who’s not a cop. Missy and I left Darby and Fluffy at Paw Prints and headed to Glitter, the local jewelry shop. A couple weeks ago I’d once again recovered my brooch from my cousin, Caro. A family heirloom, the pin was a multi-jeweled basket of fruit as ugly as a Texas armadillo and equally tough.

It belonged to our Grandma Tillie, who’d left it to “her favorite granddaughter.” That was me. Of course, Caro thought it was her. For either of us to just hand it over to the other would be unthinkable. We’re Montgomery women. Montgomery women do not roll over and accept defeat. We Texans handle our differences our own way.

Caro had been at her trickiest and had used herself as a decoy (she’s a smart lady), convincing her new friend and neighbor, April Mae June, to steal my brooch right out from under my nose. I was more than a little miffed at her ingenious heist.

I’d plotted, planned, and schemed before finding my pin in Caro’s dresser drawer. I’d been so excited, I’d worn it to Mewsings, a local art show. Mewsings exhibited artwork painted by felines, not humans. Surprisingly, the show had been a huge success. I still didn’t get what all the buzz was about.

The look on Caro’s face had been priceless when she’d realized I’d stolen the brooch back. Of course, the shocked look on my face was equally priceless when I realized she also wore Grandma Tillie’s pin. My cunning cousin had had a duplicate made.

I needed to know if I had the real one, so I’d dropped my copy off at Glitter for an appraisal. Grant Trask, the owner, had called a few days ago to let me know I did, indeed, have the original.

Now it was time to pick it up and take it home, where it was safe from my sneaky cousin.

“Hey, Gloria. How’s business?”

She came from behind the counter and greeted me with a handshake, Missy with a loving head rub. Gloria’s apple cheeks were full of warmth. “Good, good. How about you?” her voice quavered.

I thought about the murder scene in front of Bow Wow. “My life is always interesting. I’m here to pick up the brooch. Is it ready?”

Gloria didn’t move. Not even a blink. I immediately had a bad feeling. “The brooch?” she squeaked.

“I brought it in a couple of weeks ago.”

She ran her hands down the sides of her sweater, smoothing invisible wrinkles. “Yes. Right after the cat art show at the Arman Gallery.”

I nodded. “I waited to pick it up until I had a hiding place. You know Caro, she can’t be trusted.”

Gloria nodded slowly as she inched her way back behind the counter. “That Caro. She’s a wily one. I thought Grant had called you.”

My breath caught. “You don’t have it, do you?”

Gloria clasped her hands together. “No. I’m sorry Mel. I’m so sorry. Caro came and picked it up yesterday.”

“But I dropped it off. Why would ya’ll hand it over to her?” I’d worked extremely hard to lose my Texas twang. But it was times like this when it would not be denied.

For those of you who know the story, I’d pulled a similar shifty tactic on Caro earlier this year. As much as I want to say that I was justified, we all know the only difference is that I came out the winner.

I hated losing.

If Grandma Tillie were alive, she’d look me in the eye and tell me not get all “het up” about it. But she wasn’t alive. And I was more than “het up.” I was fixin’ to track down my cousin and yank my brooch out of her iron fist.

“I’m sorry,” Gloria whispered. “Zane didn’t realize.”

Zane, the owner’s nephew, was the same young man I had sweet-talked into giving me the brooch.

Hells bells. Karma stinks.

MALONE AND HIS crew were still gathering evidence when Missy and I returned to Bow Wow. Salinas noticed us right away and explained they needed an additional thirty minutes. I wondered if the police were questioning Tova. She didn’t seem the type to hold up well under police scrutiny.

Wanting to lick my wounds without an audience, Missy and I meandered into Paw Prints. Darby was setting up for a photo shoot when we arrived.

I unleashed Missy, who trotted over to the sheepskin rug and joined Fluffy. They greeted each other as all dogs do. I was grateful to be a human, able to just fist-bump anyone I hadn’t seen in an hour.

“We’re back. Are you free to grab some lunch?” I called out.

“Sure, let me finish up here. What do you have in mind?”

“No rush. How about a portabella burger?” I dropped with dramatic flair onto the Victorian couch and watched Darby move a wooden bench, searching for the perfect angle.

“When do you shoot Caro?” I’d like to shoot my cousin about now.

“Next week. Why?” Darby asked.

“She’s got the brooch.”

Darby stopped fiddling with the fall backdrop and turned in my direction. “But how? It was at the jewelry shop. You just got it back.”

“Nope.” I propped my feet up on the scuffed coffee table and stared at my boots. “She beat me there. Grant’s nephew returned it to the wrong cousin. Caro stole it right out from under my nose. Again.”

Only difference? This time Caro hadn’t used her new sticky-finger friend with three names. I wasn’t sure about that little Tinkerbell girl, April Mae June. She appeared sweet and vulnerable, but that gal was sneaky and a thief. Just like Caro.

“Do you have a plan?” Darby asked.

“Not yet. While she’s with you, I think I’ll let myself into her place and search for it.”

Darby bit her lip, holding back what I knew was a smile. “I’m sure you’ll come up with something. You always do.”

I stood, brushed off my jeans and took a deep breath. “Oh, please. You’re thinking what I’ve already said aloud. Payback stinks. Caro’s a worthy adversary, but in the end, I’m going to win. That’s my brooch.” I pointed to the autumn set-up she was fussing over. “Who’s coming? Anyone I know?”

“Cheryl and Nemo. I think they’ll make a lovely October, don’t you?” Darby raked some scattered silk leaves into a pile.

“Do you want help?” I asked.

Darby held out the plastic rake.

We worked quickly. Darby had a great eye for creating a realistic nature setting. I couldn’t wait to see what she came up with for Missy and me.

Cheryl and her pooch arrived right on time. Nemo strained to greet his cohorts, but Cheryl wasn’t ready to let him off his lead. She was a tall lady with warm eyes. She penned a successful cartoon strip starring Nemo. Think Marmaduke but with a super-smart Jack Russell Terrier.

For the past month, the comic strip story involved Nemo escaping from the backyard and all the elaborate contraptions his owners built to outsmart the little guy. Yet he’d always found a way out. Knowing the athleticism of the breed, I believed the comic was heavily biographical.

Darby greeted her clients and made quick introductions.

“I love your comic,” I gushed. “I read it to Missy all the time.”

“Thank you.” She smiled shyly, pushing a lock of light brown curls off her face. “You own the dog boutique next door right?”

“That’s right.”

She shifted her weight. “Did you know the police are in front of your shop?”

Darby and I exchanged a look. Thank goodness the coroner had already removed the body.

Word was bound to get out eventually. Time for damage control.

“Do you know Dr. Jack O’Doggle, the plastic surgeon in Newport?” I asked.

Nemo paced alongside Cheryl. She pointed her index finger at the floor and told him to sit. He quickly obeyed, tail wagging, waiting for her next command. Instead, she returned her attention to us. “I’ve heard of him.”

“Darby and I found him dead in front of Bow Wow this morning.”

She gasped. “Are you both okay? What happened?”

“A little shaken up, but fine,” Darby reassured her.

Missy waddled over to see what was going on. She snorted and sniffed Nemo and found him acceptable. Nemo tipped his brown eyes toward his owner, begging for his freedom.

“You can let him off his lead anytime you want,” Darby said. “Don’t worry about Fluffy. She keeps to herself, and Missy’s already accepted him into the pack.”

Cheryl gave Nemo a couple of instructions before turning him loose. Once he was off the leash, he raced around the room excitedly, with Missy bringing up the rear.

“What happened to the doctor?” Cheryl asked.

“We’re not sure,” I said.

“Do the police think he died of natural causes?”

Darby and I looked at each other again. I shrugged, uncertain of how much to say. “Detective Malone likes to keep his information to himself.”

The dogs dropped a ball at Cheryl’s feet. She tossed it across the room. They tore off after it. “I have a friend in the plastic surgery business. She said there have been some shady dealings in his office.”

“Like what?” I asked.

“Accusations that he was poaching patients from other surgeons, lawsuits. I wonder if the stress got to him, and he had a heart attack.”

I didn’t think so. I think someone strangled him with a dog lead. That reminded me. I wanted to research something on my office computer.

I called Missy and excused myself from the photo shoot. We headed for the boutique. Salinas and his crew were gone, but Malone was loitering in front of Bow Wow. Now what?

I LED MALONE inside. Missy charged for her water bowl and splashed water everywhere under the pretense of drinking. Malone cased the place without turning his head.

“I see you got the call you could open the shop.”

“No. I was next door with Darby. Just luck that I was leaving at the same time ya’ll finished. Did you suddenly get a dog, or are you here to ask me more questions?”

He pulled out a beautiful, pink-diamond tennis bracelet from his pocket. “Do you recognize this?”

Of course I did. I swallowed past the lump in my throat. “How’d you get it?”

“Do you know who it belongs to?”

I’d read enough mystery books to know he already knew, no sense in evading his question. “Tova Randall.”

“How do you know it belongs to Tova?”

“She wore it last night at the party.”

He dropped the jewelry into a small baggie then returned it to his pocket. “Thanks.”

“Any news on how he died?”

He picked up a pink birthday hat. “Nothing solid.”

“When I felt for a pulse, I noticed he was wearing a dog leash.”

He didn’t blink, just stood there. Like a very irritated cop. The party hat in his hand only made him look more dangerous.

“And,” he prompted.

I walked over to the green leads I’d restocked last night. “I’m almost positive it was this one.” I traded the lead for the hat.

“Do you track who you’ve sold these to?”

“Sort of. I can tell how many I’ve sold, when and if they paid by credit card, cash, or check. If they paid by credit card or check, I can find out who purchased one.”

“Do you remember who you sold one too recently?”

“I sold one to Jack O’Doggle last week.”

“Anyone else?”

“I can print a list.” I headed for the office.

“Hold on. I have an appointment. Pull your records. Do not do anything other than bring them to me. In person. Not by email. Got it?”

“Sure.”

We both knew I’d study the list before I handed it over. I couldn’t help it. I was naturally curious. Malone considered me unnaturally nosey. The problem was, he needed me.

It was a heady feeling, knowing I had something he wanted. I liked it.

AFTER A BUSY DAY of dodging questions and hand-selling Ava’s new line of doggie clothing, Missy and I happily settled into a quiet night at home. Missy snored in her bed while I sipped my favorite cabernet curled up on the couch.

I checked my cell for the hundredth time, making sure I hadn’t missed Grey’s call. To the outside world, Grey was out of town on a business trip for his art gallery, ACT (which stood for Art Crime Team). In reality, he was in Chicago working on an art fraud case for the FBI.

Obviously, he couldn’t share details, but it came down to this: someone lied about something they stole to cheat another party out of their property. That’s white-collar crime according to the FBI. (Seriously, it’s on their website.)

I set my wine on the end table next to my cell. I’d almost forgotten the list of customer names I’d brought home—people who’d bought one of the deadly green leashes recently.

I quickly retrieved it from my bag then returned to the seat, pulled the blanket off the back of couch, and tossed it over my legs.

I studied the names on the depressingly long list. Fifteen identifiable customers out of twenty-five sales. The rest had paid cash. Right there in black and white was Jack O’Doggle, the only name I recognized. Malone had his work cut out for him. Was someone on this list a killer?

My cell rang. My heart skipped a beat when I saw it was Grey. “Hey.” I tried to sound like I wasn’t sitting by the phone waiting for his call. Which I wasn’t. Really.

“Hi. Are you home?” he asked.

“You bet. Curled up on the couch. How about you? Back at the hotel?”

“Not yet. Soon. Things didn’t go as planned. I may not be home for few more days.”

He sounded tired. If I could see his face, I could read what he wasn’t saying. “But you’re safe?”

“I’m fine.” After a brief pause he asked, “What’s going on?”

Here’s the deal—with Grey, it was best to just spit out the facts. In his line of work, word got around fast when his fiancée found another dead body.

“First, I’m fine. Honestly. Darby, I, and the dogs, we’re all fine.”

“Mel, stop stalling. What’s going on?”

“Well, Darby and I found Dr. O’Doggle dead in front of Bow Wow. We called Detective Malone, and he’s on the case.”

A heavy sigh rushed into my ear. It was the sigh that went hand and hand with him rubbing his head in frustration. “What do you mean by ‘found?’”

I gave him the low down, and he grunted his disbelief. “I’m glad you’re okay. Be careful. A customer was possibly murdered in front of your shop. Keep your eyes open and stay aware of your surroundings. What did Malone have to say?”

“You know Malone. He keeps everything to himself. Speaking of keeping things to themselves. Caro stole my brooch from Glitter.”

Grey sighed again. Only this time with exasperation. “Mel.”

“I know. It’s payback from when I got to Glitter first and convinced Zane I’d return it to Caro, but you’d think they’d have learned their lesson and made sure they returned the pin to the person who brought it into the store.”

“Technically, Caro brought it into the store first.”

“That was then. To have it cleaned. I’m talking about now. When I dropped it off for an appraisal. Big difference.”

“Have you talked to Caro yet?”

“You know we’re not talking. What you really want to know is if I’ve come up with a plan to get it back.”

“No. That’s not what I was asking. Look, I have to go. I have a meeting, and I can’t be late. Promise me, if you see anything out of the norm, you’ll call the police. I should be home by Sunday at the latest.”

“I promise. Keep safe. I love you.” I worked hard to keep the concern out of my voice. I hated this part of his job.

“Be good and don’t pick fights. Love you, too,” he said before disconnecting.

Notice I didn’t promise anything about not fighting.