Begging for Trouble

Table of Contents

 

 

 

“Ellie is wonderful, insightful, and her special way of communicating with her charges makes the reader laugh out loud.”

—
Romantic Times

 

“McCoy deserves a blue ribbon herself for coming up with such an entertaining paranormal-spiced mystery and then perfectly seasoning the plot with just the right dash of romance.”

—
Booklist

 

 

“McCoy brings back professional dog walker Ellie Engleman and her reincarnated pooch with a witty and fast-paced mystery set in New York’s fashionable East Side. McCoy has a simmering plan of vengeance, peppered with humor, that readers will love.”

—
Romantic Times

 

 

“McCoy fills this delightful story with humor, quirky characters, and delicious hints of romance.”

—
Publishers Weekly
(starred review)

 

“The crisp writing, humorous dialogue, and delightful characters, both human and canine, all make this book a winner.”

—
Romantic Times

 

“Judi McCoy writes with heart and humor. Anyone who loves dogs or books will have a howling good time.”

—Lois Greiman

 

“A delightful dog’s-eye-view romp through the streets of New York. If you’ve ever talked to your dog, and wished that he would answer back, this is the book for you. Four paws up!”

—Laurien Berenson, author of
Doggie Day Care Murder

 

“Engaging characters and a cute premise kick off this delightful series. This canine caper will have you begging for more!”

—Nancy J. Cohen, author of the Bad Hair Day mystery series

 

“
Hounding the Pavement
, the first book in the Dog Walker Mystery series, is a treat for everyone, whether a dog lover of not.... Ms. McCoy has written a cozy mystery sure to please.”

—Fresh Fiction

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First published by Obsidian, an imprint of New American Library, a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.

 

First Printing, March 2011

 

Copyright © Judi McCoy, 2011 All rights reserved

eISBN: 9781101481523

 

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To my partner in crime: Jessie Esposito, retired Port Authority of New York and New Jersey police detective, and one of the most decorated in their history. Jessie tries to keep me on the straight and narrow when it comes to police details, but sometimes Rudy and Ellie get distracted by a new scent or sound and take off on their own. Thank you, Jessie, for leading them back to the correct road.

To Piper Rome, author, attorney, pilot, singer, chicken farmer, cat lover, and animal-rescue expert. Piper gave Rudy his lawyer jokes, and she gave me all the info I needed on appointments to the appellate court.

To Bobo, (aka Gary Wallace) for his help and encouragement with this story.

To Gino Canzanetta, for his help and encouragement, as well.

“Swear to God. Ellie, next year you’re getting flowers, candy, perfume. Hell, I’d even go to one of those prissy operas before I’d let you drag me to one of these so-called extravaganzas again,” groused Sam Ryder, as he hunched forward in his seat.

Ellie ignored his complaint and people-watched instead. She’d never been to a show like this before and was looking forward to the antics predicted. Sam had been behaving like a spoiled brat for the past week over this one night, and she’d simply pooh-poohed his griping. In fact, she found the idea that a crack homicide detective on the NYPD force was uncomfortable in these surroundings to be pretty entertaining in itself.

Vivian smirked. “Excuse me, Detective. Did you say ‘drag’? Because I thought I heard you announce that this wasn’t your idea of fun entertainment.”

“Ha-ha.” Sam loosened the knot in his necktie, as if the very air in Club Guess Who was choking him. “If Vince or any of the guys find out I was here, I’ll be the laughingstock of the department for the rest of the year.”

“Poor baby,” said Ellie, patting his fisted hand. She grinned at Viv and Dr. David Crane, the couple sharing their table. “Tell me, Dave, how do you feel about being here?”

The placid veterinarian smiled adoringly at Vivian. “It’s not my first choice for an evening out, but my lady wanted to attend, so why not? I’m secure in my masculinity.”

Vivian winked at Ellie, then focused on Sam. “A little bird told me that you’ve done nothing but complain about tonight since you heard about the tickets, which, by the way, didn’t cost you a dime. It’s a free show at the most trendy playground in Manhattan. Why not sit back and enjoy it?”

Sam slouched in his seat, his expression that of a five-year-old waiting to see the dentist. “I’d rather pay a couple hundred bucks for two tickets to a Broadway flop than suffer through this—this fiasco,” he answered. “A production like this belongs in Miami or Vegas, not anywhere near where I live.”

Ellie suppressed a sigh. Rob Chesney, one of her clients, had given her passes for the opening night of his new drag show, and the event was a sellout. It looked like everyone in Manhattan wanted to see a host of female impersonators strut their stuff in a fun show filled with one-liners, songs, and plenty of dancing.

“You live in the Big Apple, and Manhattan has hosted a lot of things more outrageous than this. Remember the revival that got rave reviews on Broadway this past December? Everybody in the production was naked, even Scrooge, or so the newspaper said.”

Ellie had read the show’s description with her mouth open. She’d even thought about going, but figured if her mother found out she’d attended, she would never let Ellie forget it. It was going to be difficult enough having to explain to Georgette why she was here tonight. “Just be glad I didn’t push for those tickets as a Christmas gift.”

Sam growled . . . actually growled. Jeez, what a grouch.

Resting a forearm on the table, Ellie sipped her glass of white wine and continued scoping out the cavernous venue. The deep tiers seemed to go on and on. With fourseater tables clustered side by side, the place reminded her of a nightclub on steroids. And the customers seated around her were a show all by themselves.

She’d never been to this kind of performance, but Rob had given her the tickets as a peace offering after he realized that he’d offended her when he didn’t inform her of his unique profession. By the time she’d convinced him it wasn’t
what
he did for a living that ticked her off, but the fact that he hadn’t clued her in, he’d already committed to the freebies and passes to the backstage party when the show finished.

Considering that her ex had never done more than send her a dozen roses or a gift certificate to her favorite spa for Valentine’s Day, Sam’s dinner at one of Bobby Flay’s restaurants, Bar Americain on West Fifty-second Street, and a carriage ride around Central Park made this the best sweethearts’ holiday she’d ever celebrated.

“When the hell are they going to get this business moving?” said sweetheart ground out, drumming his fingers on the table.

Ellie checked her watch. “Any second now. Don’t tell me you’ve changed your mind and you actually want to see it.”

“The sooner it starts, the sooner we can leave.”

As if on cue, a drumroll sounded from the band situated at the rear of the stage, and the audience’s raucous laughter turned to an expectant murmur. Then the bright red curtain closed, a trio of colored spotlights arced across the forefront, and a man wearing formal dress, complete with a top hat and tails, glided from the wings to the center of the stage.