Downton Tabby (17 page)

“Raider?” Malone looked puzzled.

“Yeah, that’s my dog.” Betty pointed out the Saint Bernard.

“That’s your dog.” Malone looked at me.

“We’re working out some issues,” I explained.

I helped Betty round up Raider and got the leash firmly clipped to his collar then handed the lead to Betty. The big dog’s bushy tail whipped back and forth, and he gave Betty’s wrist a slobbery lick. He’d definitely enjoyed his outing.

“You can walk me to my car.” She looped her arm through Malone’s. “We can discuss this new murder investigation.”

He turned to look at me.

“Are you coming?” he asked.

I ignored his pleading look. “You guys go on ahead. I see someone I need to speak with.”

“I’ll be getting those books from you, Carla,” Betty threw over her shoulder.

“Anytime, Bertha.”

Malone looked confused.

“Don’t ask,” I told him and smiled at Betty.

She smiled back and tugged on his arm. “Come on, Handsome.”

I could hear Betty chirping happily about her theories on the murder investigation. Malone’s voice was too low for me to hear, but the pointed look he shot over his shoulder at me was unmistakably clear. It said,
Paybacks are hell, Caro.

I waved and went to look for a varmint I’d noticed earlier when I was helping Betty corral Raider.

Geoffrey Carlisle was sitting on a bench in the little dog area. He was chatting up one of the dog owners who happened to be a client of mine.

I closed the gate behind me on the big-dog side and let myself into the little-dog area. I greeted a couple of people I knew and then walked to where Geoff was yucking it up with Davia Sinclair. Her dog, Nano, a sweet little Chihuahua, had some depression issues a month or so ago, and I’d been working with them for a while. We were able to get Nano off the anti-depressants she’d been on, and at last check-in she’d been doing well.

I was encouraged she had Nano at the dog park. Although, she wasn’t really getting any exercise. She sat in the shade at Davia’s feet.

I was a strong advocate for making sure pets get plenty of exercise, but I have to tell you in the pampered world of Bark Mitzvahs, pet spas with paw soaks, peticures, puppy pawlish, and even nannies to get dogs and cats to their playdates, it was often a hard sell.

“Hi, Davia.” I greeted her, but ignored Geoff.

It’s hard to define why I was so offended at his presence. It was a public dog park after all, and he could certainly go anywhere he wanted and talk to anyone he chose.

Wait. I take back what I said before.

It really wasn’t all that difficult to define what sent me over the top about Geoff’s reappearance in my life. I did know why it bothered me. I’d come to Laguna Beach to get away from my past. To start fresh. And I’d done it on my own terms. I’d created a new life, and the last thing I needed was a visit from the Ghost of Mistakes Past.

Taking a deep breath, I regrouped in my head.

Leaning down to pet Nano’s sleek crown, I asked, “How are you, girl?” She raised her head and gave a little woof.

“She seems to be doing well.” I addressed Davia.

“Very well,” she replied. “Have you met Geoffrey Carlisle? He’s new in town, and he was just telling me about his expertise in dog therapy. He has a Master’s degree in psychology and has worked with some celebrities. Oh, I forgot,” she tittered. “You can’t talk about them.”

“Patient confidentially,” Geoff intoned. He smiled at Davia and reached down to pat the sleeping pooch.

Well slap my head and call me stupid. It suddenly occurred to me what the louse was up to. Why he’d followed me to a client appointment, why he’d shown up at my office, and why he was hanging out at the dog park.

Talk about a ten-gallon ego. Mr. Geoffrey Carlisle wasn’t trying to win me back. He had decided my pet-therapy practice, the business he’d been so derisive about, was a good gig, and he wanted in on the action.

The problem was he’d missed one really important point. I didn’t do it for the money. I did it because I loved the animals. Geoff loved no one but himself.

I was madder than a mule with a mouth full of bumblebees, and I had to get out of there fast or I was going to come unglued right on the spot.

I ran through several scenarios in my head and came up with nothing that was appropriate to say in front of a client. Even one who had been so easily mesmerized by Geoffrey’s snake-charmer ways.

Deep breath. I put on my very best Texas Miss Congeniality pageant-contestant-under-pressure smile and said a tight but civil good-bye to Davia.

I didn’t look in Geoffrey’s direction at all. I tried to imagine he was a bug. A small insignificant bug.

I turned and walked away, holding on to my composure until I knew I was out of sight.

Then I stomped out of the park to where I’d parked my car.

People. Some of them turn out better than you hope, and others are just a complete and utter waste of space.

I DIDN’T SEE GEOFFREY the rest of the day, but my realization of what he had been up to still nagged me hours later as I finished up my day.

I had returned phone calls and taken care of a couple of errands, but couldn’t shake the cloud hanging over my day. The past week had been overwhelming and much of it utterly and completely out of my control.

It was enough to make any sane person plum crazy.

Jake’s murder. I knew Malone and company were working every angle and were frustrated with the lack of evidence. Or even a direction. No real leads. Nothing at the house that helped. No word from Cash. But, as Malone liked to point out, not mine to worry about.

My ex. I’d started over and made a life. Now, it felt like Geoffrey was intent on robbing me of the hard-won peace of mind I’d created. It wasn’t so much about the business. There was plenty to go around. It was more about his motives and why he’d chosen to come here. I felt like my safe haven had been invaded, and in a way, it had.

There was Mama. Her increasingly frequent phone calls kept me on edge. She was on a mission with this family-reunion barbecue, and I knew how that usually worked out for me. I needed to decide whether I was going to do battle on this one or write it on my calendar and be done with it. Just a long weekend, right? But how many months after that would it take me to untangle myself from the lasso that I knew would rope me right back into the family drama. The drama I’d tried so hard to escape?

And Sam. Oh, my. There was a tough one. Things were changing between us. Nothing stays the same, and it shouldn’t. Most anyone would call it a good and natural change, but was I ready for it? I could fight it, ignore it, or begin to let it change me.

I pulled into my driveway, glad to be home, but not looking forward to an evening of chasing my worries around in my head.

Sometimes a run on the beach helps me clear my thoughts. So after taking care of pet needs, I changed into shorts, a T-shirt, and my running shoes. I grabbed my water bottle and started for the door.

Dogbert raised his head expectantly.

“Not this time, buddy.” I patted his head. “The pace I’m planning on wouldn’t work for you.”

I parked my car close to where Sam and I had parked the night before and started south down the beach at a good steady speed. I tried to push everything—Jake’s murder, my ex, Mama Kat, and where Sam and I were going—from my mind. I tried not to think of anything but the pounding of the surf and the breeze in my hair.

Having gone what I judged to be about a half-mile, I turned and began my run back toward Main Beach and the boardwalk. I don’t know that I’d truly cleared my head, but it had made me feel better to take a break from trying to figure things out.

I couldn’t do a thing to help with the investigation but pass on the information people shared with me. There wasn’t much I could do about Geoffrey. It was a free country, and he could start a business wherever he chose. My mother issues went way back to my pageant days, but we’d come to a détente of sorts. She didn’t always get the boundaries, but I could remind her. And Sam. Well, it was going to take more than a run on the beach to sort out that one.

As I approached Main Beach, I slowed. A good, tiring run. Maybe I’d sit down for a minute or two and catch my breath before I walked to where I’d parked my car.

I spotted Wayne, or Mr. Cutting Hedge as I thought of him, sitting on the same bench where he’d been the evening before.

“Hello, Wayne.” I approached. “May I share your bench for a couple of minutes?”

He begrudgingly scooted over. I took a drink from my water bottle and let my breathing slow.

“A nice night,” I noted, once I was breathing normally.

He jumped and turned to look at me as if he had just remembered I was there.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt your thoughts.”

“I’m not very good with people.”

Poor guy. I bet he’d been told that a time or two.

“Do you have family, Wayne?” I’m not sure what compelled me to ask, maybe because I’d never seen him with anyone. He was always alone.

“No,” he answered slowly. “I lost my wife.”

“I’m sorry.” I didn’t touch him, remembering his reaction when I had at the shelter.

“I’m getting the basset hound.” His voice was flat, like maybe he was afraid to get too excited about the prospect.

“That’s great.” I hoped he was right. “Dogs are great companions.”

We sat in silence for a while, but not a comfortable one. Obviously the big guy had had some sad times in his life. Sad times he perhaps hadn’t worked through yet. I wanted to recommend some grief counseling, but there was a line I didn’t feel it was right to cross. He hadn’t asked for my help, hadn’t even really given me an opening.

Finally, I stood. “Good luck with adopting your basset hound, Wayne.” I waited for him to look up, but he didn’t. “If there’s anything I can do to help I will.”

He lifted his head, and I remembered the day he’d wandered into the office needing to use the phone because of his car trouble. Who would have thought our paths would cross again?

I stopped at Whole Foods on my way home and grabbed the ingredients for a new cat-treat recipe I wanted to try. I’d had good success with my homemade dog treats, but so far not only did my clients’ felines not clamor for my cat treats, Thelma and Louise were also unimpressed. Maybe Toria would be a more helpful treat tester. And maybe a little time baking would take my mind off wondering where Toria’s owner was and when he might be coming back.

Chapter Seventeen

THE NEXT MORNING I woke up with two dozen each of Catnip Cookies and Southern Kitten Chick N Biscuits waiting to be cat-tested. And a renewed sense of personal resolve.

No wonder I’d been so low, the past few days had been what Grandma Tillie would have called crazy-making days. The unwelcome interest in my personal life from the TV reporter, the black SUV following me, the complaint about me from Cash and Jake’s wacko neighbor, and then Betty, the dog park, and my realization about my ex. The crazy train had been full-throttle, and there’d been plenty of passengers on board.

I was upset with myself for not seeing through Geoffrey and what he was doing. And I was beyond irritated with Mr. TV for his tabloid techniques.

My reaction to the reporter and his digging into Mel’s past was telling, wasn’t it? Maybe Diana was right and it was time to sit down and have a heart to heart with Mel and sort out this brooch thing. I had the feeling that until we came to grips with all the baggage that piece of family jewelry represented, Mel would keep breaking up with Grey and I’d continue to keep Sam at arm’s length.

I didn’t even turn on the television as I got ready for the day. I was afraid if I had to listen to Callum MacAvoy on the news, I might end up causing harm to my TV.

I went through my usual morning routine. I took faithful Dogbert for his morning walk, acted as on-call servant to the household’s feline needs, and then showered and dressed. I pulled out a bright-turquoise long-sleeved organic cotton tee and my black skinny jeans.

Mary Jo had left me a message and invited me to stop by and see the Golden Days of Hollywood exhibit in its early stages. She had catalogued everything and now was in the process of setting up at the library. She thought I might enjoy a preview.

I put that at the top of my list for the day because it was on my way, and it would also give me the opportunity to return her movie.

The Laguna Beach Public Library was on Glenneyre, near my office, and I was a frequent visitor so I knew my way around. Mary Jo stood just inside the entrance at the Information Desk. I handed her the
Little Sis
DVD. I told her how much I enjoyed it and that I got a kick out of seeing the dress Diana had donated in the film. One of the nearby clothing shops had loaned the library a mannequin, and the dress was displayed along with the book Diana had signed. I loved the frock even more now that I’d seen the movie and knew its history.

I didn’t tell Mary Jo that the movie had sent me off on the wild hair of thinking Cash and Jake were spies. At midnight, with the movie and its intrigue fresh in my head, the idea had seemed brilliant. After listening to Verdi point out all the holes in my theory, it was losing its shine.

I took a few minutes to walk through and admire the display cases that were taking shape. What a creative idea to spark interest in some of the books in their collection and also raise some funds for the library.

My office was just a hop, skip, and a jump away, so I swung by there next. Verdi wasn’t in today, and I missed her presence. The place seemed eerily quiet after the parade of people the previous day.

I let myself into the building, unlocked my office, and got down to work.

There was a quick rap, and Sam popped his head in my door.

“You’re up and about bright and early today,” I greeted him. He was looking dress-for-success handsome in a dark-blue Giorgio Armani suit and crisp white shirt that contrasted very nicely with his dark coloring.

“I’m on my way to a business meeting with some of Yia-Yia’s cronies. I thought I’d stop by and bring you a coffee on the off chance you hadn’t had enough caffeine.” He kissed my cheek and handed me a to-go cup from the Koffee Klatch.