The Scottie Barked At Midnight (14 page)

“Better. Thanks.” Liss rose and carried the towel, now soaked through, to the suite's small sink and dumped it and the ice. The sleeve of her sweater was damp, too, but it would dry. “I mustn't keep you. You were probably on your way down to breakfast.”

“Oh, no,” Iris insisted. “I'm in no rush. If you want, I can mind Dandy and Dondi while you go get something to eat.”

“Thanks, but I'm all set.”

Iris's face fell. “You don't trust me to take care of them, do you? I'm one of your competitors, so you think I could have been the one who took Dandy. But Deidre trusted me. That must count for something.”

Had she?

Liss thought back to that first day in Deidre's condo. It had been Desdemona who'd said that her mother didn't believe Iris was the dognapper. She would know, Liss supposed. In her own interaction with the magician's assistant, she could think of nothing to contradict that opinion. Iris was young and immature. She cried at the drop of a hat. She was suffering from a bad case of unrequited love. But none of those things gave Liss a reason to think Iris was the one behind the dirty tricks.

“I was about to collect Dandy and Dondi,” she said. “Valentine kept them overnight and she was going to order breakfast for us from room service. Why don't you join us? I'm sure there's plenty to go around.”

 

When Liss knocked on the door to Valentine Veilleux's suite, the response was immediate—joyous barking. A moment later, the photographer opened up. “Come on in. I've already made a start on the coffee.” If she was surprised to see that Liss was not alone, she gave no sign of it.

“You're a lifesaver, and not just because you were willing to look after the Scotties at a moment's notice.” Liss bent to scratch behind ears and stroke backs but didn't lose any time following Valentine to the table containing an enormous room-service breakfast—bacon, ham, eggs, pancakes, toast, and croissants. The carafe of coffee was a giant economy size and was flanked by a pitcher of orange juice and one of milk.

“No problem on either count.” Valentine said. “It's a terrible weakness, but I need fuel as well as caffeine to give me a jump start. And I like dogs. I had one of my own who used to travel with me until he died of old age. He was nearly twenty years old when he went. He had a good life.”

“I'm sure he did, but I still feel a little guilty for taking advantage of you.” Liss poured herself a cup of coffee and sat down opposite the other woman. Iris was making a fuss over the two Scotties, but they were more interested in seeing what crumbs they could beg from the two women at the table. “I should have come for them as soon as I got back last night, but it was pretty late by then and we had already planned to have breakfast together.”

“How is your aunt?” Valentine asked.

“Doing well. It was sort of a false alarm.” She explained, trying to make light of her fear, but she had a feeling that Valentine saw right through the attempt. “I talked to her for a few minutes this morning. She thinks she may be allowed to go home later today.”

Iris was all ears, but said nothing.

“The dogs were good company,” Valentine said. “I hope you don't mind, but I couldn't resist taking a few photos while they were here, even though I didn't have Desdemona's permission.”

Before she spoke again, Liss took another sip of coffee and let the warmth of it seep through her. “Have you heard from her?”

“Desdemona? No. Have you?”

Liss shook her head. “I tried to call the other day but there was no answer. I was hoping to find out when she'll be coming back to Five Mountains.”

“Is she coming back?” Iris pulled out a third chair and sat, reaching for a piece of toast.

“Surely she will!” Valentine exclaimed. “She left the Scotties behind.”

Iris took a bite, looking thoughtful. “I guess. But you know she doesn't like them much.”

“No matter how she feels about Dandy and Dondi, she'll have to put in an appearance to retrieve them.” Liss bit into a buttery croissant. Her appetite wasn't as good as it had been a few minutes earlier.

“From what I hear,” Iris said, “if she wanted to, Desdemona is rich enough that she can afford to hire people to take care of them.” She sent Liss a sideways look. “I bet she conned you into doing it for free, though. Am I right?”

Liss frowned. “The subject of money didn't come up.”

She'd put her agreement to take Deidre's place into the category of “lending a helping hand.” You didn't expect to be reimbursed if you donated clothes to someone whose house had just burned down. Or when you gave blood because the Red Cross had a shortage and there was a hurricane coming.

“Maybe that's how the Amendoles managed to amass their fortune,” Valentine mused. “Get people to work for you for free and you can sock away what you'd normally have to pay for a service.”

Liss's frown deepened. What was it Hal Quarles had said that day in the elevator? Something about Deidre having pots of money? “I take it the family isn't hurting for cash.”

“Not so you'd notice.” Iris shared a tiny section of her toast with Dandy.

Valentine nodded her agreement. “I spent some time with both Deidre and Desdemona when I did the shoot for the dog calendar. Deidre didn't like the first set of proofs and offered to pay me out of her own pocket for a second session. Who was I to argue?” At Liss's speculative look, she laughed. “No, I didn't mess up the first time just to create more work. In fact, I thought a couple of shots in that set were better than the one Deidre finally chose.” She paused to chew. “I hear you're in retail. You know the rule.”

“That the customer is always right? I don't know about you, but I've dealt with some pretty stupid customers.”

“I won't argue with you there, but my clients always end up satisfied, which means they pay their bills and I eat regularly and can afford to fill up that gas-guzzler I drive.” Valentine poured herself another cup of coffee, having made short work of the first.

Liss sipped and swallowed, her early-morning fogginess now a thing of the past. Since her brain was fully functioning, thoughts began to whirl through it, fast and furious. “I read Deidre's bio for
Variety Live,
but it was more about the dogs than it was about her. I didn't try to find anything on Desdemona. Maybe I should have.”

“I doubt there's much to find. From the bits and pieces she told me, she's never worked for a living. When she was younger, she wanted to be a model, but she never grew tall enough.”

“If she's wealthy, I don't suppose she needs to work.”

Valentine nodded. Her glasses had slipped down to the end of her nose, and she pushed at them in an absentminded manner until they were back in place. “I got the impression that Desdemona's father left healthy trust funds behind when he died, one for his widow and one for his only child. I expect Desdemona will inherit everything, now that Deidre's gone.”

Liss returned cup to saucer a little more quickly than she'd intended.

“What's wrong?” Valentine asked. “You have the most peculiar expression on your face.”

“I read too much crime fiction,” Liss muttered. But she was remembering her visit from Gordon Tandy. Just why
had
he been looking for Desdemona?

Valentine was quick on the uptake. Her eyes narrowed as she caught Liss's drift. “I thought Deidre died from an accidental overdose.”

Liss worried her lower lip with her teeth. She trusted Valentine to look after the dogs, but could she be trusted to keep a confidence? She'd been quick to share what Desdemona had said to her. Iris was even more of an unknown.

“I'm sure I'm just letting my imagination run away with me. There's no reason for Desdemona to have been in touch with any of us so soon after her mother's funeral. This must be a difficult time for her.”

Iris seemed absorbed in feeding bacon to Dandy, but Valentine made a little humming sound.

“What?”

She shrugged. “I read mystery novels, too. The nearest and dearest always have the best motives.” She leaned across the table, her gaze intense. “If Deidre Amendole was murdered, who'd have a better motive than her daughter?”

“There's absolutely no reason to believe that her death was murder.”

Valentine didn't look convinced. “What are you holding back? You know something more.”

“Am I that transparent?”

“I'm good at reading people.” She shrugged. “I have to be if I'm going to take photos that show more than bland expressions and phony smiles.”

“It's probably nothing. It's just that the police haven't closed the case. They're waiting for toxicology results.”

Iris's eyes had gone wide, but she didn't say a word.

“Desdemona was the one who had means and opportunity,” Valentine murmured. “Easy access to her mother's pills. She could have slipped extras into Deidre's food or drink.”

“But matricide? Did you ever see any signs she hated her mother that much? I bump heads with mine all the time, but I'd never harm her.”

“I never noticed much affection between them.” Valentine sat back, once again sipping coffee as she pondered the question. “Some mothers and daughters never show much. Some fight all the time, but even the ones who yell and scream a lot don't usually try to kill each other. And yet . . .”

“And yet what?”

“Just something Desdemona once said. I assumed she was joking, but maybe not.” She returned the cup to its saucer, picked up her napkin, and crumpled it in one fist. “She doesn't like Dandy and Dondi.”

“I told you that,” Iris said, sotto voce.

“No, I mean, she
really
doesn't like them. Desdemona said, and I quote, that the ‘little beasts ought to be euthanized. '”

Appalled, Liss stared at her. “How could anyone—?”

“I know! The thing is, would a woman who'd consider killing two healthy, innocent dogs balk at killing her own mother?”

Liss had lost her appetite. She'd even lost interest in the coffee. Elbows on the table, she cupped her chin in both hands, fingers covering her mouth, and tried to think rationally. No flights of fancy allowed. They were probably making a mountain out of a molehill. Gordon had said he had questions for Desdemona. That did not mean he suspected her of murder.

But there was another possibility, a second scenario to consider now that Liss was seeing Desdemona Amendole as a coldhearted woman who regularly used people, and pets, for her own ends. “Is it possible Desdemona was the one behind the dirty tricks?”

“She had an alibi for the afternoon Dandy disappeared,” Valentine pointed out. “She wasn't even in the state, let alone near her mother's condo.”

“She could have hired someone to dognap Dandy.”

“Why would she?” Valentine asked.

Iris raised her hand like a schoolgirl. She even bounced a little in her chair. “I know. I know. She wanted to throw everyone off the scent when she went after the other contestants. She could have arranged for that anonymous call that caused Elise so much trouble. And she was at the resort the day Mo's props were damaged.”

Valentine removed her glasses and cleaned them with an unused napkin, her brow furrowed in thought. “I admit I've read more than one mystery novel in which someone kills several innocent people to confuse the motive for getting rid of one of them, but all the dirty tricks have accomplished is to annoy everyone. No one's been eliminated from the competition. Even if Eudora had remained in custody, Roy Eastmont would have been able to finagle his way around the problem.”

“Someone will be voted off the show today,” Liss reminded her.

Shoving her glasses back into place on the bridge of her nose, Valentine gave a derisive snort. “Someone Eastmont picked
before
the first episode of the season was recorded.”

“You know that for a fact?”

“Oh, please! If it was any more obvious, there would be a billboard announcing it.”

Liss sighed. It wasn't as if Valentine's confirmation came as any surprise to her. “Maybe someone thought he'd make a last-minute adjustment and dump Elise instead. Without the snake, she wouldn't have much of an act.”

“Whoever that someone was, I doubt it was Desdemona. It's not like the winner gets a check for a million dollars. The champion of champions is awarded a trophy, like the mirror ball on
Dancing with the Stars,
only cheesier.”

Iris started to say something, then stopped, shaking her head when the other two looked her way.

“Since Desdemona is the last person in the world to want to take the act on tour, or into the movies, or whatever,” Liss said, taking up Valentine's thread, “she has no reason to care if Deidre and her Dancing Doggies win or not, except for the honorarium, of course.”

Valentine looked blank. “The what?”

“I think that's what Desdemona called it.” Liss strained to remember exactly what the other woman had said. “She stood to be sued if someone didn't take over Deidre's part in the act. She'd have to return the honorarium paid to all the contestants.”

Even before Liss finished her explanation, Valentine was shaking her head. “No. There's nothing like that. Believe me, I'd have heard about it if there was.” She shrugged. “People talk to me. I don't know why.”

Liss looked at Iris. “No honorarium,” the younger woman agreed.

“So Desdemona lied? Why would she, especially about something like that?”