When I was done describing, he laughed aloud. “You’re somewhat predictable, Kendra, you know that?”
I immediately felt defensive, crossing my arms over my ruffled blue shirt. “A good lawyer learns which techniques tend to work best. A good pet-sitter, too.”
“Not to mention a murder magnet. But I’ve come to appreciate how you get the animals around you, or things connected with them, involved in figuring out what happened.”
“Thanks,” I said. “I guess. So . . . would you like to observe my very first trial? I don’t think it’ll net me the murderer, but I’ll probably be able to rule someone out—a person I almost wish was the genuine culprit.”
“I’m yours to command,” he said with one of those steamy smiles that got my insides percolating all over again. “At least for this afternoon. Let’s do it.”
I called Darryl first. Didn’t exactly tell him what I was up to or how I’d do it, but I did let him know who I was about to practice on.
“Why Kiki?” He must have been in his office and able to talk about her without her eavesdropping.
This was slightly knotty. I didn’t want him to fire her, but neither did I want her to get away with bad-mouthing Wanda for no reason. “Just to rule her out,” I said. “She . . . well, she seems a little unhappy about your relationship with Wanda—which isn’t really her business or mine. I don’t think her attitude is bad enough for her to want to frame Wanda for murder, but—”
“But you’ve considered it,” Darryl finished. Still seated behind my desk, I looked up and saw Dante watching me with apparent interest.
“I just want to rule it out,” I repeated, “and practice my snooping technique in the meantime.”
“Okay.” Darryl drew out the word, though, and I could tell he was thinking. “I’m not exactly sure why Kiki would resent Wanda. Maybe, as part of whatever you’re doing, you can find that out, at least. Kiki’s been a good employee, especially with the dogs. She’s a bit miffed with
me
now over some management issues, but nothing major.”
Maybe. Did he know, though, about Kiki’s property search? This probably wasn’t the time to inform him.
“Of course, if it ever comes down to choosing between her keeping her job here and Wanda . . .”
“Hopefully, that won’t happen. I’ll need to meet with her in private, and then I’ll see what I can learn.”
Since I hadn’t had Darryl on my speakerphone, I gave Dante the gist of our conversation.
“More than one mystery around here,” Dante observed mildly. “First thing to resolve, I’d imagine, is what’s really going on in Kiki’s mind.”
“Exactly,” I said. “Ready to help me find out? I assume you’ll want to observe.”
“Absolutely.”
We stood up to leave. I took my package, retrieved my purse from the drawer, then drew near Dante on my way to the door. Which meant another delicious delay . . . in his arms.
“Okay,” I finally said, attempting to catch my breath. “Let’s do it.”
“It?” he inquired, his dark and delightful eyebrows raised.
“Head to Doggy Indulgence.”
DANTE DROVE US in his sleek Mercedes. No need to take both vehicles, although I’d want to stop back at the office later to grab my Ford before doing my evening’s pet-sitting. But I didn’t want to wait any longer to start my scenario.
“Okay, I’ve played along this far,” Dante said as he pulled onto the 101 Freeway, heading east toward Studio City. “You told me before
what
you intend to do with those collars and tags. I’ve got a good guess about the
why
, but you weren’t really clear on that. So how about letting me in on it while we drive?”
Why not? The guy beside me was damned smart, and he’d have my back more than the Burbank police, even assuming Detective Melamed provided backup to earn her possible murder-solving credit. Plus, he knew enough for me to be sure that his guess was more than an educated one.
So I explained. “Well, you already know that the reason Wanda found Margaret Shiler’s body was that the elusive Lady Cuddles had escaped and Wanda saw the apartment door open. She went inside to look. Sure enough, the kitten was there. So was a very dead, and bloody, Margaret.”
Dante nodded. “Got that.”
“Wanda noticed that night that Lady Cuddles’s collar and name tag were missing. While she waited for the cops to arrive, she did nothing to mess up the crime scene—other than pick up Lady Cuddles, which probably helped to prevent more bloody kitty paw prints. That’s when she got scratched. She also looked for the collar and tag, but saw no sign of them. She bought Lady Cuddles another collar and name tag the next day—from HotPets, of course—but duplicates of the originals weren’t immediately available in the store. And that was that, as far as she was concerned. But I wondered about the missing collar and tag. Could the killer have taken them away? If so, why? And where are they now? Far as I know, and the Burbank police have confirmed it, they’re still missing. It’s not too much of a leap to think the killer might have removed them.”
“Another
why
comes to mind here. What was the killer’s motive to grab them from the cat in the first place? ”
“Only a guess, but what if the white collar became covered in blood after the killing? If it was only Margaret’s blood, that wouldn’t be a big deal to the killer. But what if he or she wasn’t sure whose blood it was?”
“The killer’s own could be a possibility,” Dante acknowledged. He had exited the freeway on Laurel Canyon and was now waiting for a light to change. He looked at me grimly, and I looked back.
“Exactly. So . . .”
“So you’re going to use these new ones to watch your suspects’ reactions to seeing the collar and tag.”
“You got it,” I said, smiling at him.
“I just hope what you’ve got isn’t going to hurt you.”
DEAR DARRYL HAD set things up by the time I got to Doggy Indulgence.
I didn’t see Lexie at first, and after Kiki’s recent nasty pranks, I had some concerns whether she had somehow gotten the word about what I was about to do. But then Darryl’s office door opened, and both Lexie and he emerged.
Near the main desk at the entry, he greeted Dante and me. He gave me a hug, and at the same time whispered into my ear, “Kiki’s on assignment in the kitchen. I’ve taken the liberty of borrowing her purse. It’s in my office, and once you’ve stuck your little present into it, I’ll make sure it’s returned to the area where employees keep their belongings.”
“You’re a dear, Darryl.” I kissed him on the cheek, then glanced at Dante. He didn’t seem daunted by the show of affection. But then, he already knew I had a thing for Darryl—namely, long-term and really deep friendship.
In a while, everything was set up. I went into the kitchen while Darryl worked the magic of returning Kiki’s purse to its original location. Meantime, I’d transferred my little present into it.
“Hi,” I said to Kiki, who was busy scrubbing a small area of the floor. Beside her was a big plastic garbage bag that didn’t smell especially good, and I assumed that Darryl had somehow gotten one of the doggies to leave its duty where it didn’t belong.
Kiki turned to glare up at me, as if I’d done whatever caused her to be on cleanup detail. She wore a Doggy Indulgence knit shirt—this one a shocking pink—over skinny jeans. Her bleached blond hair appeared a trifle damp—from either cleaning or perspiring.
“Can I talk to you for a minute?” I asked.
“No.”
I pulled a chair from behind the table where employees ate lunch and sat on it, watching her. “Guess what. I’m going to talk anyway. I’d really like to know why you’re so upset about Wanda, and therefore about me.”
“Not your business.” She returned to her scrubbing.
“Oh, but I think it is. Wanda’s my friend. Besides that—well, as I’m sure you know, she’s on the Burbank police’s suspect list for the murder of Margaret Shiler, who lived in her condo complex. They were arguing over pets. But I’m certain someone has set Wanda up. I don’t know why yet, but there’s a particular clue that’ll at least help me find out who.”
I proceeded to tell her all about the disappearing Lady Cuddles. Interestingly, she turned around, sat on a dry area of the floor, and listened. Nodded her head, as if this wasn’t a new story to her.
Might my original suspicions about her actually be correct?
I then got into my theory about the killer taking Lady Cuddles’s collar and name tag because they contained a clue about that person’s identity. “So far, the police aren’t convinced, but I’m trying to rule suspects out.”
Darryl and Dante wandered in just then, as if their timing was one big coincidence. I’d asked for exactly five minutes before their big entrance.
Darryl held Kiki’s purse.
“I’m sure Kendra’s told you her theory by now,” Kiki’s calm employer said. “Please empty your purse so we can be sure you aren’t hiding the missing stuff.”
“How dumb!” she exclaimed with a sniff, standing at last. “Number one, it’s not me. Number two, whoever killed that woman would have gotten rid of the collar by now if it could point to them.”
“Humor us.” Dante had been here with me before, so Kiki knew who he was. Otherwise, since he tended to eschew on-air media interviews, or even paparazzi photos in the papers, she’d certainly have heard of him but wouldn’t have known what he looked like.
The man had a magic way with women. Maybe it was his absolutely sexy male looks. Or their knowledge that this guy had a whole lot of money.
Whatever it was, Kiki said, “Well, all right. For you, Dante.”
Just like that, she took the purse and turned it over, dumping its contents on the floor. Out rained makeup, a comb, a wallet, and lots of not-unexpected stuff.
Almost last, the collar and name tag slid out and sat on top of the rest.
I watched as her eyes widened. And blinked. Then narrowed. “You set this up, Kendra. I know you did. Well, here’s my answer, even though it’s not what you’re looking for. I was serious when I said I didn’t know anything about that damned cat or its missing collar and stuff. I didn’t kill that Margaret woman. As much as I’m angry with Wanda for interfering with what I’ve been trying to discuss with Darryl, it’s a real stretch to think I’d kill someone I didn’t even know, in the hope that the cops would blame her, don’t you think?”
“Exactly what did you want to discuss with Darryl?” I asked before anyone else—including said Doggy Indulgence owner—could do so.
“I want a lot more responsibility, since I’m around here more than getting acting gigs. I want to become manager. I’m good with dogs, and he knows it. I need more money. That’s it.”
“We’ve talked a little about your latest ideas,” Darryl said. “How did Wanda prevent you from discussing the rest?”
“She’s either here with you or you’re on the phone with her. Or thinking about her. The few times I’ve tried to talk to you about everything, you were in a hurry to see her and seemed too distracted to really listen to me or to take me seriously. So . . . Here’s the thing, Darryl. I didn’t kill anyone. I didn’t do anything to hurt Wanda. But I will hurt you.”
“What!” I exclaimed, leaping to my feet, ready to defend my dear friend from whatever this woman had in mind.
“Not physically,” she said scornfully, standing there with hands on her hips. “If I don’t get what I want from you, Darryl, I’m starting my own doggy day care facility. A lot of your customers really like me, so you’ll lose business. It’s as simple as that. You can ignore me to go snuggle with your Wanda, or you can talk to me.”
With that, she stalked out of the kitchen.
I looked from one of the men to the other. “Well,” I said, “the good thing is that we learned what she wants from you, Darryl, although why she’s blaming Wanda for any of it doesn’t exactly make sense.”
“I suspect she needs a scapegoat,” Dante responded wisely.
“The other good thing is that I did get a reaction from her about my fishing for a suspect in Margaret’s murder—and the items I used as bait.”
“Do you think she did it?” To my surprise, Darryl sounded almost hopeful as he stared at me through his wire-rims.
“Nope,” I said. “I’m still looking. Kiki’s first reaction convinced me she isn’t guilty—not that I really suspected her. But as silly as my set-up is, I believe it’ll catch a killer.”
Chapter Twenty-seven
“INTERESTING SCENARIO YOU came up with,” Dante said when we were again in his car.
Lexie was lying in the backseat, evidently exhausted despite her day at Doggy Indulgence having been somewhat abbreviated. Either that, or she’d been freaked out by the kitchen scenario. Or maybe she simply hadn’t finished her afternoon nap.
We were heading back to my office, already on the freeway heading west.
Then Dante said exactly what had been on my mind. “But do you think it’ll really be effective in helping you find the killer?”
I shrugged sadly. “Honestly? I don’t know. But I’m hopeful, and I’ve got to do something.” We went over the short list of persons I wanted to attempt to unnerve with the collars and tags, and how I’d maneuver each into a position of vulnerability. I could only hope that if the guilty one was among them, he or she would go bonkers when the cat stuff mysteriously reappeared.
Assuming he/she had made it disappear in the first place.
A single replacement set might have sufficed, but I’d wanted extras in case someone kept one—or in case I needed to modify the appearance now and then for my scenario to get serious. If, of course, one could ever look at something so off-the-wall as serious. But I’d used others equally strange and gotten useful results.
Dante, of course, attempted to insist that he be present each time I experimented. “We’ll see,” I said.
“If not me, then Brody.” He stopped speaking then, as if he’d had the last word on the subject.
The last word? Perhaps. But not necessarily the final result.