Hounds Abound (15 page)

A few rows on the right, near the front of the sanctuary, I saw what must have been the area chosen for Miles’s colleagues and office staff. I recognized the two doctors I’d talked with and a few other staff members. They all talked among themselves, ignoring everyone else.

“Bella.” A hushed male voice sounded from behind us.

Bella went as rigid as one of the outside towers before she pivoted toward whoever had spoken. I turned, too, and recognized the veterinarian from the TV interviews criticizing Save Them All Pet Sanctuary. Bella looked away without responding.

The clergywoman must have slipped by us somehow. She was at the front of the room, on the dais. “Everyone please take your seats,” she said into the microphone.

The service was brief and poignant. If the little I’d seen of Miles hadn’t convinced me that he was an animal hater, as well as a jerk of an ex-husband, I might have felt very moved by it.

Two medical practice colleagues rose to eulogize him at
the front of the room, standing behind a dais in the middle of an arch of flowers. One was Dr. Serena Santoval. I felt pretty certain that I’d gotten it right and she had been Miles’s lover, judging by how weepy and personal she was. I didn’t know whether that relationship might have precipitated Bella’s divorce from him, but it could have. Either way, despite her sobs, I couldn’t eliminate this good doctor from my suspect list.

The other I hadn’t met before. I gathered from what he said that Dr. Pass Pearson was the newest doctor to be added to the practice. He was therefore perhaps the least likely to have cared enough about Miles either positively or negatively to have killed him.

Eventually, the service was over. I had chosen the aisle seat so I kept Bella from rushing from the sanctuary, instead letting most of the seats in front of us empty and the occupants file out.

We’d heard there would be a reception downstairs in the church. I wasn’t hungry, but I did want to talk to as many people as I could—and eavesdrop on the rest.

Bella curbed her reluctance to head to the stairway when I whispered that there’d be a lot of potential suspects down there.

“Then that
is
why you’re here.” She sounded somewhat pleased that she had assumed the truth.

I nodded and entered the crowd navigating the stairs. Bella would follow, I was sure.

“Bella!” The voice came from behind us. Kip Schaley was there, in a gray suit and athletic shoes.

“I didn’t know you were coming,” she said.

He edged close, his back toward me, as if he was trying to take my place. Interesting. I’d already wondered if he had a crush on her.

“I wanted to be here for you.” He smiled down at her uncertainly.

“Thank you. Let’s go downstairs.”

So now I followed them. If I hadn’t had a purpose here, I’d have felt like a third wheel.

At the bottom, I entered the reception room and watched as the two moved forward. As they reached a table occupied by coffee urns, Bella started pouring herself a cup.

Kip turned toward me, peering through his glasses. In a low voice he said, “Bella said she asked you to help find out what really happened to Miles. It’s nice of you, but unnecessary. I’ll help her.”

“That’s nice of you,” I replied, “but if you find anything useful please let me know. I’ve already promised to do what I can, and I don’t break promises.”

“But—” At my glare, the poutiness of his look disappeared, replaced by a pleasant nod. “With both of us checking,” he finished, “we’re bound to figure it out.”

“Sure,” I said.

As he got in line for coffee, I edged between some people and moved toward Bella. Her eyes remained on the crowd still trickling down the stairway. “I’m glad Kip is here,” she said. “I’d have invited him if I hadn’t thought it inappropriate to look like I brought a date …” Her words trailed off, and I glanced at her, trying to figure out her apparent non sequitur.

That was when I saw the veterinarian from the critical
TV interviews wending his way from the stairway and through the droves of people toward us.

Interesting. I’d wondered about him when we saw him before, but he had moved away when the service began and I had no idea where he’d been seated.

I wondered about him even more now, and why Bella was reacting so strongly.

Again, she stood straight, glaring at him. His appearance was softer, or maybe that was because he regarded her through small, thick-lensed glasses.

“Hello, Bella,” he said.

“Vic.” She said his name, then turned her head to look beyond him.

“It’s good to see you.” He wasn’t bad to look at in person. His receding hairline only emphasized a narrow, handsome face, and he looked quite at home in his dark suit. But I saw beyond his looks to the cold, heartless man beneath.

Bella’s gaze returned to him as if it was hard for her, too, to look only at the surface. “That’s a strange thing for you to say.”

I felt as if I was in the middle of a dramatic performance after entering a theater for the first time after intermission. They obviously had a history, but I didn’t know what it was and I didn’t think I’d get much opportunity to dig into it until these two played out whatever was going on here.

“Hello, Dr. Drammon.” I remembered his name from TV. I didn’t hold out my hand since I despised the guy, but I introduced myself. “I’m Lauren Vancouver. I run HotRescues, a no-kill pet shelter, and unlike you, I very much
applaud what Bella is doing with Save Them All Sanctuary.”

“I do, too, only—”

“Only you think that saving older or special-needs animals is a form of torturing them. Good-bye, Vic.” Her firm chin high, Bella moved away. Kip joined her, and I followed them without saying anything else to the despicable vet.

I’d want to hear more about their history later. I was very curious.

When we walked away, I noticed that some of the men in suits included Detective Stefan Garciana. He was deep in conversation with the woman who had officiated over the service. I tried to keep my back toward him, but Bella noticed and gasped.

“Ignore him.” I continued moving. Kip hurried to keep up with us.

They stayed with me, at least until I veered toward the table with coffee urns. I needed a drink, and caffeine would have to do. When I turned back, Bella and Kip faced three people: two men and a woman. They all looked angry, and Bella, holding Kip’s arm, was clearly uncomfortable.

I joined them again.

“These are Miles’s brothers.” Bella introduced them, as well as her former sister-in-law—Edson, Brewster, and Eleanor Frankovick.

“You have some nerve showing up here.” Eleanor’s hiss made her resemble a snake even more than her thin body, narrow face, and uplifted hairdo. I assumed she was married to Brewster, since she grabbed his arm.

“I just wanted to pay my respects.” Bella’s quiet response
swathed her in dignity, which was clearly lacking in the people she faced.

“You should have done that before,” Brewster said, “instead of killing him.” He looked more like his deceased brother than the one beside him, with his dark brown eyes and turkey wattle beneath his chin. Edson’s eyes were lighter and even more spiteful, his features gaunt.

“Don’t grace that with a response,” I interjected, glaring at them and motioning for Bella to move on. Kip, grasping Bella’s hand, led her through the crowd while I stood my ground. Bella’s former relatives turned away first, and I felt a small, absurd sense of victory.

When I pivoted, I saw that Bella and Kip had wound up near the gathering of doctors and staff from Miles’s medical office. Had Bella intended to stop there? I doubted it, but the crush of eating and mourners didn’t appear to let her move away easily.

The medical personnel stood in the middle of the room near a table filled with veggies and dip, a nice, healthful snack area that would undoubtedly make a good impression on anyone considering getting work done by them. As he said hello, Bella nodded at Dr. Abe Renteen and kept walking, with Kip trailing behind, but a young lady with long legs revealed by a short skirt approached them. I thought I recognized her as one of the office personnel in brightly colored lab jackets—a nurse, perhaps.

“Hello, Mrs.—I mean, Bella.”

Interesting catch. I assumed the office staff had been instructed to address doctors’ spouses formally, but no one, least of all Bella, considered her Mrs. Frankovick any longer.

“Hello, Keara.” Bella seemed to hesitate, then she said, “I’m glad to see you’re still with the office. You are, aren’t you? You were such a good assistant to Miles. Have they assigned you to someone else?”

Keara’s large blue eyes moistened and she nodded. “But I—we—miss him. He … well, when you two split he seemed so lost at first.” Really? That didn’t sound like the situation as I understood it. “I wanted to—”

Whatever it was she wanted was obliterated as Serena Santoval planted herself in the way.

“How does it feel?” the emotional doctor asked. “You were already rid of him, Bella. You didn’t have to kill him.”

I saw Bella’s eyes widen in shock, but she stood her ground. “I didn’t. I had no reason to. I was through with him, and he was through with me. But you, on the other hand—”

“Are you accusing me?” the woman hissed.

“Only as much as you’re accusing me,” Bella said.

“You belong with those damned filthy animals Miles said you were throwing his money away on.”

They looked ready to attack one another. Interesting, but it wouldn’t get me the information I sought.

I noticed Detective Garciana watching—not good for Bella.

“I don’t think we’ll solve Miles’s murder here.” I arranged myself so my shoulder was between them. “Let’s assume, for now, that neither of you did it, shall we?”

“But—” Serena the harpy began.

“I said
assume
. If you have any ideas who else could be a suspect since you worked so closely with Miles, it wouldn’t hurt to share.”

“Are you a cop?” Serena demanded.

“Of course not.”

“But you are … you’re bogus, aren’t you?” That was Abe Renteen. He stared at me with narrowed amber eyes, as though considering me again for a face-lift.

“What do you mean by bogus?” I countered his question with my own.

“You were at our offices this week asking about having some cosmetic surgery performed, weren’t you?”

I hadn’t thought my disguise to be flawless, but it clearly hadn’t worked at all, at least not with him.

“Was I?” I stared coldly, as if he had insulted me.

“Ms. … Vancouver, isn’t it? In case you weren’t aware of it, people in my profession learn quickly to study details of faces they’re considering enhancing. That nose of yours, the wrinkles I could help with—”

I winced. Yes, I had a wrinkle here and there but they weren’t really so bad.

“Why were you really there?” he demanded. “I can guess, seeing you here with Bella. Are you trying to figure out who to point the blame at in Miles’s death besides her?”

I was about as inclined to answer him as I was eager to choke on the carrot I’d picked up. “I assume you’re not going to admit it right here,” I told him. “But anyone else on your staff who you suspect? Or—”

To my surprise, he laughed. “All of us are innocent, of course. We believe that dear Bella, there, must be guilty because she and Miles hadn’t stopped arguing about money. That’s the thing—if you’re trying to solve a murder, follow the money. It’s kind of you to attempt to protect Bella, even if it’s futile. In the unlikely event that it’s not
her, there is another place you can look where money is at issue. It’s been kept relatively quiet, but if you Google the names Al and Clara Traymore, you might just get another couple of names for your little suspect list. Real or not, Al thinks he has a motive. So go bother them and stay out of our clinic.”

“Did Detective Garciana try to talk to you?” I was watching Bella’s stony expression as she began driving us away from the church. Since Kip had come on his own, he left at the same time we did but drove himself.

Bella’s perfectly manicured hands clenched the steering wheel. I’d noticed them before and been surprised that the polish on her nails wasn’t chipped, since I knew she was a hands-on shelter administrator.

Maybe she had redone her nails just to look perfect and unfazed at the memorial ceremony.

In any event, she didn’t appear to be mourning her ex. Not that I figured she would. But I wasn’t able to read her emotions.

I did read, though, that she was filled with them. Anger? Hurt? Fear?

She darted a glance toward me. Her blue eyes flashed with what appeared to be rage. But as she caught my inquisitive yet sympathetic gaze, she seemed to melt.

“No.” Her voice sounded much calmer than I’d anticipated. “I caught him looking at me from across the room at the reception, as if he wanted to unnerve me. He succeeded, but I kept as stiff an upper lip as I could.”

That sounded very British, and I smiled.

I waited till she stopped the car at the next traffic light. “Okay, then. Let’s forget about him for now. I want to go over a few thoughts with you, learn what you know about the people there and who had motives to kill your ex.”