The Scottie Barked At Midnight (15 page)

Valentine gave a snort of laughter. “To get you to feel sorry for her and agree to dance?”

“Yes, but . . . oh, this is hopeless. Every time I think I have one thing figured out, someone throws me a curve.” She supposed Eastmont could have paid only Deidre, but she couldn't think of a good reason for that, either.

Valentine looked as troubled as Liss felt. Iris's brow was puckered, as if she was trying hard to make sense of what they were saying and having little success.

“Why not just bow out if there's no penalty?” Liss asked. Besides, the show couldn't sue Deidre for not showing up if she was dead.

Glancing at her watch, Valentine rose from the table. “I don't have an answer to that question, or to any others.”

“Wow. For a whole thirty seconds there, I thought I could cross Desdemona off my list of suspects.”

The other woman chuckled. “You made a list. How efficient. Who else is on it?”

Liss sent her a sheepish smile. “To tell you the truth, Desdemona's name wasn't there, but I did include all the performers and Roy Eastmont and you. No offense.”

“None taken.”

“I already knew I was a suspect.” Iris sounded oddly pleased.

“Well, innocent or guilty, we'd all better get a move on,” Valentine said. “It's already after nine.”

Liss shot out of her chair. In half an hour's time she was supposed to be in the ballroom, in costume, when the results show was “recorded before a live audience.”

Chapter Nine

I
n costume, smiling, one Scottish terrier on either side of her, Liss watched with reluctant admiration as Roy Eastmont did his MC shtick. A performance by a guest star would be inserted later. Today Eastmont had only to introduce everyone again and then boot one of them off the show.

Deidre and her Dancing Doggies were the first to be pronounced “safe” to go on to the next round. The other acts had to suffer through tease after tease until there were only two left. When the show was televised, there would be a commercial break at that point. Eastmont prolonged the suspense unmercifully even without the interruption.

“Elise and Eudora—did your fans vote to bring you back for another week? The Great Umberto and the lovely Iris—in just a moment, your fate will be decided.”

Liss was reminded of the ticking clock on an old game show, only this time the sound was ominous, not upbeat. Iris looked terrified. Her glittery earrings—pendants heavy with rhinestones—caught the light as she turned her head and buried her face in the front of Oscar Yates's tuxedo, as if she couldn't bear to look when Eastmont, in the best awards-show fashion, pulled a card with a name on it out of an envelope.

“Here it is,” he announced. “What you've all been waiting for.” He took his time opening the large gold-embossed envelope. “The act with the lowest combined score and going home right now is . . . Elise Isley and her Mighty Python!”

Elise let out a screech of disbelief. She refused to take the MC's hand to be led downstage center to make a farewell speech. Instead, she pitched a hissy fit. With an agitated four-foot-long python as her backup group, the exotic dancer's final performance was more than spectacular. It ended with an attempt to scratch out Eastmont's eyes.

Hotel security moved in, but they were so wary of the snake that it took them a good ten minutes to lay hands on either Elise or Eudora. The camera crew never stopped recording. Would they edit the footage, Liss wondered, or just air the whole screaming match? Either way, she felt certain Eastmont would get the bump in ratings he so obviously craved.

Once Elise was removed from the ballroom, it was time to record the show that would be broadcast a week after the first one. The remaining contestants dispersed to change costumes, while the crew made minor adjustments to the set.

Braced to endure whatever Mel had in store for her, Liss was pleasantly surprised to end up in a skirt that came to just below her knees. Of course, it was slit up the side almost to her waist, but the spangled bikini bottom that went with the outfit kept her marginally decent. The top clung to her like a second skin, but the neckline was modest.

“Thanks, Mel,” Liss said as she studied her reflection in a full-length mirror. The entire outfit was bright red, and the material was encrusted with glitter.

The costume designer shrugged. “No problem. I know how you hate the thought of titillating viewers every time you bend forward.”

Still shaking her head over the other woman's word choice, Liss headed back down to the ballroom, where she'd left Valentine watching the dogs. They'd have about ten minutes for a final rehearsal, and then they'd be “live” once more.

She met Willetta in the elevator. The singer ignored her, engrossed in running through scales as they descended. She unwrapped one of her honey-lemon cough drops and popped it into her mouth when she was through. She had a second cough drop ready in her hand, since her gown, a stunning creation of green velvet, low cut and figure hugging, didn't run to anything so useful as a pocket.

The magic act was up first. Liss didn't pay much attention, although she did notice when the Great Umberto swung his assistant up into his arms and then lifted her over his head to stand on his shoulders as a build-up to the trick du jour. Yates was strong. She'd grant him that much. Iris wasn't tiny like Elise. She was slender but not skinny and at least five-foot-six. The magician was only a few inches taller.

Hal Quarles came next. His insult comedy would have worked better with an audience, but he knew when to pause for the canned laughter. It wasn't until Liss moved into position to begin her dance number with Dandy and Dondi that she realized there were a couple of new faces among the watching cast and crew. Dan had slipped, unnoticed, into the ballroom, and Sherri Campbell had come with him.

With her husband and her best friend watching, Liss couldn't give the performance less than her best effort. Even so, she knew it was only adequate and that, once again, the judges were scoring Deidre and her Dancing Doggies based on a prearranged plan rather than on merit. Smiling, bowing, pretending to be thrilled with her three nines, Liss led the Scotties away and tucked them back inside their carriers.

Placing the carriers where she could keep them in sight, she turned to watch the next act. It was Willetta Farwell's turn, but when Roy Eastmont introduced her, there was a delay before she came onstage. She had a peculiar, pained expression on her face. Liss understood why when she tried to sing. Nothing but a croak came out of her mouth. Willetta tried again, tears streaming down her cheeks, but the results were just as disastrous.

“What's wrong with her voice?” Liss hissed when Mo appeared at her side. She was scheduled to juggle after Willetta's song received its scores.

The other woman's face had gone pale beneath her makeup. “Sabotage,” she whispered. “Willetta popped one of her cough drops into her mouth just as you were finishing up your routine. I saw that odd look come over her face, but I didn't realize—”

“Someone doctored her cough drop?”

Just the thought of it made Liss feel sick to her stomach. This went way beyond the other dirty tricks, and way beyond removing a rival from the competition. Damaging a singer's voice could ruin her entire career. If one of their number was that ruthless, that desperate to win, then the rest of them were in much more danger than she'd believed.

Something had made it impossible for Willetta to sing. She could barely speak. Liss prayed the condition wasn't permanent. It was horrible enough that her inability to perform was about to cost her a place in the competition. The judges stumbled all over themselves expressing their sympathy, but they had no choice but to award her the lowest scores of the season. Even if viewer votes really
did
count, there was no way Willetta would make it to the finals now. This time, the attempt to eliminate a contestant had succeeded.

 

After the session was complete, Dan and Sherri accompanied Liss back to her hotel suite.

“How is Margaret doing?” she asked the moment they were inside.

“She's fine. Otherwise, I wouldn't have been calmly watching the show. I'm heading for the hospital to pick her up and drive her home as soon as I leave here, but I'm not going anywhere until you tell me what happened to that singer.”

“I don't know much. Willetta goes through cough drops like they were candy. It looks as if someone tampered with one of them.” She freed the dogs from their carriers and set out fresh water for them, thinking hard. “Alum would have that effect, wouldn't it?”

She thought she remembered reading that alum could cause the mouth to pucker, but she could be mixing it up with something else. She was no chemist, nor was she an expert on poisonous herbs.

“I don't even know what alum is.” Sherri eased her bulky body onto the sofa with a sigh of relief. “What's been going on here?”

“Dirty tricks.” Taking the chair opposite, Liss filled her in on what had happened to Mo, Elise, and now, Willetta. “You already know about Dandy being stolen and abandoned in the woods.” She reached down to stroke the Scottie, who had curled up at her feet. Dondi was still in the kitchenette, slurping his water.

Dan stood by the window. “So whatever was on that cough drop made her tongue swell up so much that she couldn't sing?”

“Yes. She's already recovering, thank goodness, but it's too late to save her spot on the show.”

“On the surface, these all sound like run-of-the-mill juvenile pranks,” Sherri said, “except that this last one was played at a moment crucial to the victim's performance. I imagine there are lots of easy-to-obtain substances that someone could use to get that result, but the trickster would have to have access to the cough drop and the opportunity to doctor it.”

“One of us. No surprise there.”

“And that means whoever is doing these things has too damn many opportunities to try something else. If he comes after you or the dogs—”

“I promise not to get maimed or killed.” Liss interrupted, making the cross-my-heart gesture and trying to smile.

Temper flared in Dan's eyes, and he took a step closer to her. “Damn it, Liss, don't make light of this.”

“He's right, Liss. You need to be careful.” Sherri hesitated. “Are you sure Deidre Amendole's death was an accident?”

“According to her daughter, she took all kinds of pills. She could easily have mixed a fatal cocktail without realizing it.”

“Or someone else could have done it for her.”

Liss shifted in her chair, uncomfortable with both of them staring at her. “Valentine suggested that Desdemona might have killed her mother. I don't agree. I'm not even willing to concede that there's been a murder. Seriously—what are the odds? I'm just an ordinary person. Ordinary people do
not
keep getting tangled up in murder investigations. It's going to turn out to be an accidental overdose, just like Desdemona said.”

“And where, exactly, is Desdemona Amendole?” Sherri asked.

“Ohio, which is why we also ruled out the possibility that Desdemona could be the one behind the dirty tricks. She's not here.”

“You're sure about that?”

“That she's not at Five Mountains? Well . . . how about I call her right now?”

Liss dug her cell phone out of the tote she'd been using to lug dog paraphernalia back and forth and punched in the number Desdemona had left for her. It rang eight times before an unfamiliar voice answered with “Amendole residence.”

“Hello? May I speak with Ms. Desdemona Amendole, please?”

“Miss Desdemona is not at home.”

“To whom am I speaking?”

“I'm the housekeeper, dearie.”

“My name is Liss Ruskin. I'm the one taking care of Dandy and Dondi. I really need to get hold of Desdemona.”

“Sorry, dearie. I've no idea where she is. She packed her bags and left right after her mother's funeral.”

“Perhaps she's headed back to Maine to pick up the dogs?”

A snort of laughter greeted this suggestion. “Not likely! And if she does come for them, I'd think twice about letting her take them. She's madder than a wet hen about that provision in her mother's will.”

“What provision?” Liss asked.

“Why, the one where Deidre Amendole specified that Dandy and Dondi are to live out the rest of their natural lives in the manner to which they are accustomed. Unless Miss Desdemona can find a loophole, or they're killed in a tragic accident, she's going be stuck taking care of them for years to come.”

On that ominous note, the housekeeper broke the connection.

Liss set her phone aside, shaking her head in disbelief. As if Dandy knew Liss had been talking about her, the Scottie licked her hand. When the little dog rolled over onto her back, Liss tickled her tummy, provoking a rapturous wriggle.

“Don't worry. I'm not about to let anything happen to you or Dondi.” She repeated what the housekeeper had told her for Dan and Sherri's benefit.

“What a wretched woman!” Sherri exclaimed.

“Is there some legal way to prevent her from taking the dogs?” Liss asked.

“Probably not. You have no hard evidence that she means them harm. And you don't know exactly what that will says. Maybe there's something in it to discourage Desdemona from trying anything underhanded. You know—any suspicion of foul play and the entire estate goes to the home for unwed cats.”

“I just wish I knew where Desdemona is right now.” Liss felt as if the Scotties were facing threats from all sides and only hoped her protection would be enough to keep them safe.

Dan offered Sherri a hand to haul her up off the sofa. “We've got to hit the road. I don't want to keep Margaret waiting.”

“You look like you're about to pop.” Liss regarded her friend's enormous baby bump with wary eyes.

“Not yet.” Sherri grinned. “Trust me. I've done this before.”

Liss saw them on their way, a little surprised that Dan wasn't trying to convince her to go with them. It was reassuring that he trusted her to handle herself, even though she could tell that he was worried about her. She'd feel the same if their situations were reversed.

The word
trust
had come up a lot lately, Liss mused. Who did she trust at Five Mountains? That was a darned good question.

She was looking for her list of suspects when her glance fell on a small patch of white all but hidden between the desk and the wall. Curious, she caught hold of the visible corner and tugged, revealing a piece of 8½ x 11 copy paper folded in thirds.

“Well, what do we have here?” Liss asked Dondi, who seemed to think she'd retrieved the page for his entertainment. It certainly wasn't her suspect list.

Unfolded, the paper revealed itself to be a printout of a travel itinerary. The name of the passenger was Desdemona R. Amendole.

“Speak of the devil,” Liss murmured.

She thought back and recalled papers spilling out of Desdemona's purse the day she left for Ohio. This had probably been one of them, overlooked when she scooped up the others. Liss was about to toss it into the wastepaper basket when a date caught her eye.