“Looks that way,” James said glumly, regarding his fuzzy guinea pigs as they sat still in one of their cages at the side of his living room. “And, yes, Kendra, if there’s anything you can do to advise us, we’d really be grateful.”
“Tell you what,” I said. “It’s getting late now, but if some or all of you would be willing to visit me at my law office soon, we can talk about the possibilities.”
“Tomorrow?” Wanda asked eagerly. She glanced toward the others. John, Sheldon, Julie, Rick, and James nodded.
“How’s two o’clock?” I suggested. Everyone agreed.
Dante and I left a short while later. “You can’t come to my place tonight?” I asked sadly as we stood in the parking lot beside my car. After the ordeal of the condo association meeting, I’d have loved his company.
And his body.
“Sorry, but Alfonse has the night off, so I need to get home to Wagner. I’ve also got an early morning meeting. And—”
“I get it.” I tried not to let my regrets show too readily. “Maybe another night. Soon.”
“You got it.” He took me into his arms. Nearby, a car pulled out of a parking space. We ignored it and kissed. Then Dante said, “Meantime, what do you have planned tomorrow for your snooping—I mean investigation—into Margaret Shiler’s murder?”
“Not sure yet. Maybe I’ll check with my friend Althea, see if she can find anything on that construction guy, Rutley Harris. I like him for the murder—only because he’s a jerk, not necessarily because I came up with any evidence on him.”
“Tell you what,” Dante said. His dark eyes bored into mine beneath the parking lot lights, and I was immediately lost in them. He could have told me anything, and I’d have bought it just then. “I’ll talk to Brody tonight. Have him run a check on this Rutley Harris and get back to you with the results.” I’d no doubt he’d report them to Dante first, but that was okay. “Anyone else you’d like for him to look at?”
I pondered for a short moment. “How about those Bertinettis? They were on Margaret’s side, and they’re not very nice people. It wouldn’t hurt to look for anything in their backgrounds that might indicate they could be killers. And maybe even James Jerome. He seems like a good guy, but he clearly didn’t like Margaret—with good reason.”
“I’ll throw in the other board members, for good measure,” Dante told me.
“Sounds good.”
“So Brody will be in touch with you tomorrow.”
What about you?
I wanted to ask. Well, hell. I could always call him. And if there was some reason he didn’t want to talk to me, he wouldn’t have to answer.
“And I’ll talk to you, too, Kendra,” he said softly. His kiss punctuated that promise so adamantly that I no longer had any doubts. “Think of me while you’re in bed tonight.”
“You do the same.” I’d attempted to make my tone absolutely light, but there was a longing and huskiness I hadn’t intended.
“Count on it.” He opened my Escape’s door and ushered me inside.
Of course I complied. How could I do otherwise? In bed, by myself except for Lexie, I let my mind meander to thoughts of Dante, and how I’d like him there with me.
Which of course didn’t allow me to fall asleep.
So, lying there, too comfy and half lonely, I pondered Dante’s offer to have Brody Avilla check into anyone I considered a possible suspect in the murder of Margaret Shiler. My habit, for a long time, had been to have Althea Alton, that fantastic employee of Jeff’s, work her computer magic, which I felt certain included hacking—not that I’d ever tell. In any event, she was a wonder at coming up with absolutely everything I needed.
Brody had been around nearly as long as I’d known Dante—which was only a matter of months. Even so, I’d known of him before. Who hadn’t? He was a film star of some note, and had been in an acclaimed cinematic remake of the old
Rin Tin Tin
TV shows, among other movies.
With Dante’s assistance, we’d gotten Brody to act as a judge on the
Animal Auditions
reality TV show that we were both affiliated with.
But I’d only recently learned that Dante and Brody had previously worked together in some pretty secret government stuff, way back.
It did make me feel certain, though, that if Brody checked into more info for me, online or otherwise, he’d do great. As well as Althea? Maybe. But I could certainly see what he accomplished, and if I wasn’t satisfied, I’d call on my regular computer expert.
And . . .
Okay, I finally managed to make myself sleep. A good thing. I’d a sufficiently busy day planned for tomorrow that I couldn’t leave myself in a position to nod off during the day.
I admit I had to drag myself out of bed, though, after my alarm went off and Lexie insisted it was, indeed, time to get up. I decided I needed a Darryl fix of friendship, now that we were talking to each other again, so I determined I would take Lexie to Doggy Indulgence first thing, before I started my pet-sitting.
Guess I shouldn’t have been surprised when Darryl wasn’t there yet. Wanda would need some extra TLC after the last few difficult days, and Darryl would undoubtedly stay close to her as much as possible to provide it.
When I walked in, the place was already busy with lots of active pups, and Lexie immediately joined them. Lots of employees, too, to take care of them. Games were already going on in the different areas designated for multiple kinds of fun. Barks and growls and laughter filled the air, and doggies slid along the pine-like linoleum floor as they chased balls and played other kinds of games.
I waved to one of the nice employees, Lila, as she went by in pursuit of a pup, but she didn’t stop. Unfortunately, Kiki was the one who edged up to ensure that I signed my doggy in sufficiently for her day of indulgence.
“So, have you fixed things for your friend Wanda yet?” Kiki asked, her tone snide as she regarded me with blue eyes whose friendliness was as false as the blondness of her hair.
“Working on it,” I said, not even bothering to smile back. I’d never liked this lady, but I didn’t understand why she’d become even more difficult lately.
I still wondered whether she’d decided to have a crush on Darryl, now that he was no longer available.
Now might be a time to attempt to figure it out. . . .
“But I’ll bet you’d be happier if she was arrested and convicted, right, Kiki?”
Those blue eyes widened, and this time their expression of surprise seemed real. “I . . . What makes you think I have any interest in that damned murder?”
And before I could get her to explain her odd reaction, she turned her back and joined in the nearest canine ball game.
Which made me wonder, as I said my farewell to Lexie and headed out to my car, what interest she actually had in Wanda.
I’M NOT EXACTLY the most patient person in the universe. Even so, I took my time getting through my morning pet-sitting visits, since that was only fair to my many charges.
I also managed not to pick up the phone as soon as I sat down at my desk in my law office.
But I was dying to say good morning to Dante.
And find out if he had in fact enlisted Brody to do some online research.
I hadn’t erased the contractor Rutley Harris from my suspect list in Margaret’s murder, after all. I wanted to know as much about him as was available before I fully made up my mind.
And—
Well, hell. It didn’t show utter impatience if I called someone else altogether . . . did it?
Who cared?
I called a number that had become familiar lately—Detective Ned Noralles, of the LAPD.
“Hi, Ned,” I said brightly when he answered.
“The answer is no, Kendra.”
“And the question is . . . ?”
“Have I pushed the Burbank PD to tell everything they know, or think they know, in the murder at that condominium that you’re interested in.”
“Oh.”
“But I do have a call in to one of their detectives who’s an acquaintance. If I learn anything, I’ll let you know.”
“Thanks, Ned,” I said. “By the way, how are Nita, Porker, and Sty Guy?” I’d become buddies with his sister and their pet potbellied pigs recently, too.
“They’re fine. And I’ve a standing order to say hi from them whenever I talk to you. So, hi. And ’bye. Talk to you soon, Kendra.”
My cell phone suddenly went silent, and I was left staring at my messy desk.
Wishing I had a contact as helpful as Ned at the Burbank PD.
Chapter Fifteen
MY ENSUING DISCUSSION with Brody was almost as disappointing.
“I just got the request from Dante, Kendra,” he said, sounding half amused—which had just the opposite effect on me. “Give me some time.”
I almost blurted that my friend Althea would probably have deep and dirty info on everybody on my list by now, but that wasn’t exactly true. Althea was damned good at dealing with stuff on the computer. Fast, too. But she was still human. Plus, her work from Jeff always came first.
And these days, her help always came with a catch—like sharing a meal with my former lover.
“Okay, Brody,” I said with a sigh. “I didn’t mean to be too pushy, but some of the people on your list who live at the Brigadoon condos and opposed Margaret’s pet-hating ways are coming to see me this afternoon. They may want to hire my legal services to ensure that Margaret’s views aren’t adopted by the association. I figured I’d ask some pointed questions while they’re here. See if any flinch when I talk about how Margaret died. Background info on who to push might come in handy.”
“I’ve got a meeting later this morning with your buddies Corbin and Shareen Hayhurst and Charley Sherman about the next season of
Animal Auditions
.” Corbin and Shareen were my law clients whose legal issues had helped lead to the establishment of our animal reality show. Charley Sherman, too, was a former law client now affiliated with
Animal Auditions
—and a longtime animal trainer for Hennessey Studios. “I assume you’re still happy with me being a judge.”
“Ecstatic,” I said. “And you’re right. That comes first. But anything you can get to me, as soon as you’re able, would be absolutely welcome. About
Animal Auditions
, too, by the way. I’m sure I’ll get a recap, but your opinion would be great.”
“You got it,” he said, and hung up.
Leaving me staring at my office walls and the small, messy credenza flanked by oak file cabinets at the other side of the room.
My reverie was interrupted by an incoming phone call. “Kendra Ballantyne,” I said automatically into the receiver.
“Ms. Ballantyne, this is Cornelius Eldt. I’m an attorney representing Elmira Irving.”
The client’s name sounded vaguely familiar, but I couldn’t place it.
“Please remind me who she is,” I said.
“She owns MirVilous Kennels and raises French bulldogs. Your client Joan Fieldmann apparently called and asked if she’d have her counsel contact you about a contract dispute they’re having.”
“Oh, yes. That’s right, Mr. Eldt. But now that we’ve introduced ourselves, please just call me Kendra.”
I expected a similarly friendly gesture from him, but didn’t get it. On the other hand, maybe he didn’t like the name Cornelius.
“Right, Kendra. Now, here’s the situation.” He proceeded to relate the contract’s requirements of showing Pierre from his client’s perspective.
“I haven’t fully read the contract,” I told him, “but perhaps we could meet in a couple of days, clients included, and discuss whether things are as dire as Ms. Fieldmann believes.”
“That should work.” We agreed on a tentative time, at my office, subject to our respective clients’ okays.
I called Joan immediately to report. “I didn’t get a sense of how easily we might work out a mutually beneficial solution,” I said, not mentioning that I wasn’t necessarily on a complete first-name basis with opposition counsel. That might not bode well in our favor.
“I’m not surprised,” she said. “I don’t think Elmira’s the type to compromise.”
“We’ll see.” In my experience, most people could be convinced to work something out—if it turned out to be strongly in their economic favor. But this didn’t seem like the kind of situation that could be solved throwing money at it, even if Joan had some to toss in Elmira’s direction and was willing to do so.
I soon got down to some of my elder-law stuff. Had a nice, if quick, lunch with boss Borden and senior attorney Elaine. I felt slightly overdressed, since their clothing was more casual than business today. But I had an official meeting scheduled for later, so I’d worn a nice blouse and gray skirt, over which I could stick a coordinating jacket when the time came.
When we got back to the office, I went through my so far sparse notes about the Brigadoon pet situation.
I was ready and jazzed when my new potential clients arrived. I met them at the former restaurant’s entry when Mignon buzzed, then chirped, to let me know they were there. I’d reserved the firm’s bar conference room since they were a substantial crowd. Wanda was there, and she’d brought Darryl, too. Then there were James Jerome, Julie Tradeau, and the three other surviving board members. They introduced me to a few other players who apparently weren’t on the board but didn’t want the rules regarding pets at Brigadoon to change. In all, there were a dozen of us who gathered around the table in the center of the room.
Wanda was the one to start. “Thanks for meeting with us, Kendra.” My petite friend wore a gold gauzy top today, trimmed with green piping.
I noticed that Darryl held her hand under the table. He must have come straight from Doggy Indulgence, since he was in one of his usual green knit shirts with the logo on the pocket. I noticed some white dog hair on its shoulder and had to keep from pointing it out, though I smiled about it.
“You’re very welcome,” I responded to Wanda. “How can I be of assistance?”
“Well,” said James, “we need your help making sure things at Brigadoon don’t change with respect to our pets.” This was one of the few times I’d seen him in a shirt without guinea pigs depicted on it. He must have assumed this was going to be a formal law meeting, like in court, since he wore a blue suit. He’d even slicked his hair back from his forehead.