Hounds Abound (14 page)

“Let’s see how things work out.” I loved Carlie’s tactfulness.

Bella emerged from her office as we gathered in the entryway, clad in her usual Save’Em work shirt over jeans. I was happy to see my friend, but I told her right off that I had nothing new to report. She looked relaxed and delighted about what was to come, and I suspected that she
had enhanced her usual makeup in anticipation of being part of the filming.

Carlie introduced her staff and Paul, and Bella smiled and shook a lot of hands. Then, leaving Daya in charge of the greeting zone, Bella showed us through the archway into the open, two-story kennel area. A lot of volunteers were in enclosures, socializing some of the older dogs. Some of the canines nevertheless barked at us as we went through to the rear of the structure, where the special-needs animals were housed.

They, too, had quite a few visitors playing with them. No Kip, though, or Peggy. I remained pleased about how active Save’Em was in recruiting people to help with the animals. HotRescues had as many as we needed, too, of course, so I didn’t need either to give or take any lessons.

Carlie knew the location of Nifty’s kennel. The sweet dog maneuvered himself from lying down into a sitting position as Bella and Carlie entered.

“How about some better mobility, sweetheart?” Carlie picked him up as easily as if he were a toy dog instead of a forty-pound-or-so Basset and carried him out of the enclosure.

There, she did a quick veterinary checkup as cameras rolled. Bella was filmed, too, as she answered some of Carlie’s questions about Nifty’s general health and ability to get around, including how he managed to evacuate.

“He’s surprisingly agile about getting out of the way,” Bella said. I felt certain that one or more of the three cameras was recording her smile, as proud as if she was a mama discussing her child.

“Okay,” Carlie finally said. “The moment of truth. I
think Nifty is ready to begin his new life. Let’s give your wheelchair a try, Nifty.” She motioned to Paul, and together, with the cameras rolling, they fastened the halter around Nifty so the wheels were at his back end and his limp, unusable legs were comfortably hooked up to the rear. Then they both moved away to give the cameras a better view of the obviously confused pup. Poor Nifty kept turning around and trying to nip at the things now attached to him.

Carlie brought some treats out of her bag. With Paul’s help, they lured Nifty forward slowly as he used his front legs. The movement sent him ahead faster than he probably expected and he stopped.

After a few minutes of this, the treats were placed farther in front of him. Amazingly, marvelously soon, he was moving steadily and gracefully with his new wheelchair attached.

“This is so wonderful!” Bella’s enthusiasm was undoubtedly captured for posterity—and the
Pet Fitness
show. It was genuine. Mine, too, but I expressed it off camera. Carlie understood that I didn’t want to be an official part of this, no matter how delighted I was to watch.

“I’ll give you further instructions, along with a handout you can share with your staff,” Carlie said. “It’ll include advice on how to encourage him to go to the bathroom with the wheelchair attached. We’ll be back to check on Nifty’s progress in a few weeks.”

The filming was over. We were all so excited for Nifty. Some of Bella’s official staff had been watching from around where I stood, and Bella told them how to handle this—encourage Nifty individually and not confuse him any more than he already was.

She showed us back to Save’Em’s huge, well-equipped kitchen, downstairs and toward the center of the main building, where we all toasted over coffee and soft drinks. Kip joined us there. The accountant had apparently been lashed to his office computer and had just broken free.

“Thank you so much, Carlie,” Bella said as we got ready to leave. “You, too, Paul, for bringing Nifty’s wheelchair. Maybe we could work out prosthetics or other equipment for some more animals?” She looked hopefully toward Carlie, who nodded.

“As long as I can film it for
Pet Fitness
, I’ll be glad to help. We’ll work out who pays whom and all that another time. This one is definitely on me.”

Bella’s grin widened even more.

She continued to smile as she showed the entire group of us out of the main building toward the front door. Then she stopped, clutching the door, paling noticeably as her mouth gaped open.

I moved around the crowd and looked outside.

Detective Stefan Garciana stood there. “Hello, Lauren,” he said. “I didn’t expect to see you here. I have some more questions for Ms. Frankovick.”

Bella looked shocked. But I had gone through something similar before, so I wasn’t as surprised.

I moved closer and said into her ear, “Remember cop shows. Don’t say anything without your lawyer present. You did contact Esther Ickes, didn’t you?”

She nodded grimly. “I’ve met with her, too.”

“Good. Then call her right away.”

Esther was the attorney specializing in criminal law to whom I’d referred Bella. Esther was a wonderful, crafty senior citizen as well as being an outstanding lawyer. She had helped me when I’d been accused of murder. I’d been referred to her in the first place by Dante’s lady friend Kendra Ballantyne, a pet-sitter who seemed always to be attempting to solve murders for her friends.

I grimaced at the thought. So, unfortunately, was I these days.

I smiled, though, as Carlie edged in front of us in the doorway, motioning to have her camera staff join her and film the scowling detective.

“Hi,” she said pertly. “You may remember me. I’m Dr. Carlie Stellan, a veterinarian, and I’ve just been filming an episode of my
Pet Fitness
show here for the Longevity Vision Channel. I gather you’re not here to do anything to benefit the animals.” Garciana opened his mouth as if to reply, but Carlie didn’t give him time. “You know, having the authorities storm the door this way might be a great contrast to the good things we’ve already gotten today. Could make for great TV. Thanks for coming.” She turned back to her staff. “Fellows, be sure to get this officer’s contact information in case we decide to be in touch.” She strutted out.

Bella and I had been shunted over toward one side. “I’d stay and help if I thought it would do any good,” I told her. “But even though I’m not big on paparazzi-type stuff, I think having Carlie’s guys filming here might be useful to you. Like I said, though, call Esther right away.”

Her smartphone was up to her mouth as I followed Carlie outside.

Unlike with real paparazzi, the filming Carlie had done wouldn’t wind up flashing on pseudo-news shows on TV, or even on the Internet.

That’s what I assumed, but I called her as soon as I got
back to my office at HotRescues to make sure that wasn’t really her plan.

“I thought you knew me better than that, Lauren.” She actually sounded hurt, and I repented having asked.

As usual, Zoey was on the floor near my feet. I bent to gently pat her behind her perked-up ears as I said, “I do. But—well, in a way it might be to Bella’s advantage, gain her some sympathy, if it looks to the world like she’s being hounded by the cops.”

A moment of silence. Then Carlie said, “You know, maybe I should side with Matt, Brooke, and Antonio on this. You’re getting too involved again, Lauren.”

My turn to chomp on my tongue for a beat. I should never have mentioned my irritating dinner conversation the other night to Carlie. “Maybe so. I’ll think the situation through a little more. Meanwhile, keep me informed about when your episode on Save’Em will air. At least I haven’t seen any more of those ads for a while from that vet who wanted Bella to close her doors for the animals’ supposed sake. The one your promo spots countered.”

“Maybe he had some humanity in him after all,” Carlie said. “Even if he didn’t care about saving special-needs animals, he might have decided to shut up about the whole situation after Miles was killed.”

“Or maybe he figured that the situation would result in Bella’s arrest and the end of Save’Em anyhow,” I finished.

What I hadn’t mentioned to Carlie, or anyone else with qualms about my helping Bella, was my plan to attend Miles’s memorial service.

It was scheduled for Saturday, at a church in Beverly Hills. There’d been no word about when his actual funeral might be, since apparently his body remained in the hands of the coroner. But someone who cared about him—his fellow plastic surgeons, maybe?—had put together a service anyway. That made the news, even if Carlie’s filming of Detective Garciana at Bella’s didn’t.

Maybe the oddest thing about my going was that I planned to accompany Bella. Yes, she, too, had decided to attend.

“I might have come to despise him,” she’d told me over the phone that Thursday evening. That was the same conversation in which she related that, thanks to the intervention of her attorney Esther, the visit to Save’Em by Detective Garciana that afternoon had been a nonevent. “But we were married for ten years. A handful of those years were enjoyable, and even though things turned bad quick, I never wished him dead … at least not till we started arguing about our division of assets. I wonder if the fight will just end now, with him gone.”

I didn’t mention how that could factor into the cops’ unimaginative assessment of motive. “I assume he has heirs—family members or whoever,” I said. “I hope you get along with some, at least, or you may continue the same kind of financial fight.”

Once again I was stroking the soft, warm fur behind Zoey’s ears—this time as she sat beside me on our living room couch at home. The rest of the afternoon at HotRescues had gone by fast, especially considering that a class from a nearby grade school had come for a visit to see what an exemplary no-kill shelter for homeless animals looked
like. I’d greeted Brooke on her arrival for the night but hadn’t meandered into the Bella situation with her again—maybe by tacit agreement.

On getting home, I didn’t change out of my HotRescues clothes but now vegged out in front of the muted TV, sipping a cup of herbal tea.

“I never got along well with his brothers,” Bella said with a sigh, “so I guess it’s not over. Depending on how he’s changed his will, of course.”

“Of course,” I agreed. Too bad I didn’t know its contents.

Maybe Miles had been killed out of someone’s greed—and that someone wasn’t Bella.

The All-Embracing Church of Beverly Hills wasn’t a venue I’d heard of before. I’d looked up its Web site to extract the address to program into the GPS my kids had recently bought me. It was a multidenominational house of worship, and its photo on the site made it look like a house of high incomes.

In person, on Saturday, it appeared even more impressive, tall and solemn and forbidding, its façade done up in white-trimmed terra cotta tile around the windows and on the roof. Many towers stood at attention around the central building. The large crucifix rising from the one to the right of the front entrance appeared surprisingly plain to be a symbol of the otherwise uninviting church.

Bella had picked me up at home since I was more along her route than she was mine. Like fraternal twins, we both
wore black dresses. My shirtwaist was more conservative than her above-the-knee, sleeveless one. So was my plain silver-link necklace, compared with the diamond-encrusted one she wore.

I figured I’d see the two cosmetic surgeons from Miles’s office whose services I had pretended to be interested in. I didn’t particularly want to explain anything to them, so I disguised myself a little. I slathered on more makeup than was my norm. I also pulled my hair severely from my face, clipping it beneath a black, small-brimmed hat that I assumed was a current style since I found it in my daughter Tracy’s room.

Bella parked her upscale Lexis in the church’s parking lot. It looked at home among the other luxury vehicles.

As she exited her car, she smoothed her dress and her face, taking a deep calming breath. I was looking forward to this as much as I would a dental exam, but it was even more of an ordeal for her.

“You okay?” I asked.

“Sure. Although I’ll bet your detective friend from the LAPD will be here, too—to watch me, not necessarily to look for anyone else who might have wanted Miles dead.”

That’s why I was there, but I decided not to vocalize it. Bella probably assumed it was at least part of my reason, but I’d just offered to join her for moral support.

A lot of people walked from the parking lot, up the steps and through the wide doors that opened into the church.

A woman dressed in a white robe adorned with a long red stole stood near the door greeting people. I assumed she was the clergyperson. We nodded in greeting, then
passed by without Bella introducing herself. Me, neither. Bella seemed to want to sit near the rear of the sanctuary, but I urged her forward toward the middle.

By then, people had recognized her. Several said hello, and Bella greeted them back gravely, with no appearance of discomfort. Others stared and whispered. I trained my gaze on a few of them until they looked away. They probably wondered who the heck the antagonistic broad was, but who cared?