Barking with the Stars Page 10

  “That’s interesting.” I watched Bosco as he kept his eyes trained on Les. “The same with others?”

  “Not so much the nipping but definitely checking them out.”

  “Let me go back outside and come in.” I went out and as I came through the door, the bell rang and Bosco tensed but didn’t bark or growl. I tested Bosco’s reaction to my approaching Les. No reaction at all.

  It could be there was something about this particular guy. His size, his attitude, for that matter even his smell. Dog’s often assess via their noses. It could have been his aftershave or even deodorant. Maybe something he’d stepped in or walked through.

  “What did you do when it happened?”

  “I gave Bosco an order to get back, which he did. But he continued growling, sort of deep in his throat, until the guy left.”

  “How long before someone else came into the shop?”

  “Probably fifteen or twenty minutes, and then Bosco went on alert with them, too.”

  We covered some different tactics that Les could try. I explained about Shelties being herders and how sometimes when they become a problem, it’s simply a matter of giving them a job to do. I suggested some puzzle toys or having him help pick up. If Les scattered a few items around the shop and made it Bosco’s job to find them and put them away, that activity would go a long way toward keeping Bosco engaged in something useful. Heck, we all like to be useful, don’t we?

  “I don’t want to kennel him here at the shop. He’s good company while I’m working.” Les patted the dog’s head.

  “I think we can figure this out.” I smiled at Les and Bosco. “Let’s try some of the tasks. I’m not sure it’s the full solution on the alert behavior but it will keep him busy and result in a calmer canine.”

  After saying my good-byes to Les and Bosco and leaving a couple of pup treats for Bosco, I headed down the street in the direction of my office.

  I’d not gone more than a few steps when I was accosted by Mr. Swanson. Great. I’d been wondering when he was going to pop up.

  “Caro Lamont.” A straw hat protected his balding head from the sun.

  “Mr. Swanson.”

  My unhappiness at finding Swanson in my path is part of a long story involving Betty Foxx, but the Cliff Notes version is that through a series of events, Mr. Swanson had ended up with my Grandma Tillie’s antique brooch.

  “What a coincidence.” He positioned himself directly in front of me so I had to stop or run in to people walking the other way on the sidewalk.

  “Probably not.” I was sure he’d been watching from somewhere and had spotted me.

  “Been thinking about getting your bid in?” His beady eyes searched my face.

  “No, but I’ve been thinking about talking with my friend at the police department about you.” I couldn’t believe he had the gall to think Melinda and I would pay him for something that was rightfully ours.

  “Better hurry,” he cackled. “Your cousin won’t dither like you. She’ll snap it up.”

  I certainly was not dithering, but I was not going to reward such high-handed behavior by paying the man. It wasn’t the money. It was the principle.

  “If you’re ready to do the right thing and hand over the brooch, we’ll call it good.” Over his shoulder, I saw the guy that Mandy had been arguing with get out of his Subaru and go into a guitar shop. Trevor, she’d called him. I had some questions for Trevor.

  “No proof the piece of jewelry is yours. No labels.” He peered up at me. “But if you’re interested, well, we should talk. If not, I’ll simply let your cousin pay what she’s offered.”

  Dang it, Mel. I hoped he was bluffing. I hoped she hadn’t made an offer, but the girl was impatient. I wasn’t sure.

  “Maybe no label, but I have insurance papers with a description and picture of the brooch.” That wasn’t strictly true. I think Grandma Tillie had had the thing appraised at some point so there probably was some documentation back in Texas. The only pictures I could produce were photos of Mel or me wearing the brooch at various functions. Not because of its beauty. Far from it. It had been worn strictly to torment the other. But Mr. Pay-to-Play didn’t need to know that.

  He squirmed a little and wiped a couple of drops of sweat from his forehead before resituating his hat.

  “Why don’t I stop by your house and we can discuss it?” I wanted to know where he lived. I didn’t see Malone being willing to put a scare into Mr. Swanson, but if I knew his address I could have my attorney send him a letter that might shake him up. And hopefully get him to voluntarily return the piece of jewelry. At this point, I didn’t even know the guy’s first name.

  I kept my eyes on the guitar shop door, watching for Trevor.

  “No, I don’t think so.” He gave a smarmy smile. “I don’t want you breaking into my house and stealing the brooch.”

  “Steal?” He seemed to miss that part where the brooch was not his property. “Steal something that rightfully belongs to me?”

  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Trevor come out of the guitar shop and head back to his car.

  “Mr. Swanson.” I clutched his arm. I needed to get him to tell me where he lived but I really needed to catch Trevor. This might be my only opportunity. I had no idea how to reach him and I needed to know what his dealings with Purple had been.

  “What?” He looked confused.

  “Stay right there.” I stepped around him and took off down the street. “I’ll be right back,” I said over my shoulder as I tried to get to Trevor before he got in his car.

  “Trevor,” I called. “Trevor, wait up.”

  “Trevor.” I finally got close enough that he could hear me. He had his car door open and he paused.

  There was a moment of confusion and then I think he must have recognized me from yesterday at Purple’s house because his expression changed. He tossed the bag he had in his hand into the car, slid in, and pulled out into traffic.

  I was close enough I could see the license plate. A California plate. I pulled my notebook from my bag and wrote down the numbers. Hopefully, Malone would follow up on the information I’d given him earlier and probably he could get Trevor’s contact information from Mandy. But if she didn’t have it, now we (and by we, I meant Detective Malone) had another way to track him down.

  I turned back the way I’d come, hoping to finish my business with Mr. Swanson, but he had disappeared. The little troll seemed to pop up out of nowhere and then disappear. There had to be a way to find him. Right now, I only hoped to convince him to turn over the brooch, but I wasn’t above a little pressure. His attempt at deal-making with Grandma Tillie’s brooch was just plain wrong.

  With Mr. Swanson gone, I decided to see if the guitar shop could give me any intel on Trevor. The place wasn’t busy and I only waited a few minutes to talk to the guy at the counter, but Trevor had apparently just purchased guitar picks and had paid cash. Nothing at all that would help in tracking him down.

  Back at the office, it was quiet. None of my officemates were in. The real estate lady was often out, and after a couple of years of sharing the office, I still wasn’t sure what Suzanne the psychic’s hours were. Maybe she “knew” when someone was going to need her services and just showed up then.

  I typed up my notes on Les and Bosco and was just closing down my computer when my cell phone rang. I recognized Diana’s number.

  “Hello, sugar,” I answered while packing up to leave.

  “Oh, Caro, I’m so glad I caught you.” She seemed slightly breathless.

  “Why?” I stopped what I was doing. “Is something wrong?”

  “Well, you know that famous Tom Hanks movie quote?”

  “‘There is no crying in baseball?’” I offered.

  “No. ‘Houston we have a problem.’”

  �
�Oh, no.” I couldn’t imagine what else could go awry. “What now?”

  “The fans aren’t able to get into Diamond Cove where Purple’s house is and so they’ve taken to leaving tributes at the hotel.”

  “Tributes?”

  “You know, flowers and such,” she explained.

  “Understandable. I don’t see how that would be a problem.”

  “It’s not just the flowers. They’re leaving signs. And balloons and all kinds of purple items which are blocking the hotel entrance.”

  “Oh.” Well, that could be an issue.

  “The hotel is very unhappy with the situation and they’ve told Rufus they’re looking at their legal options.”

  “What do they mean by that?”

  “It means, they’re looking for ways out of working with us,” Diana explained. “I’m sure it’s not the image they’re after with their fancy suites and high-end clients.”

  “But we have a contract, right?”

  Diana said nothing for a moment. “We do and it’s unlikely they have an out, but in the meantime, they are making it very difficult for Rufus.”

  “I’m sure.” I picked up my notebook, noting my earlier list of suspects, and flipped it closed. “But what can we do? We’re not in control of the fans.”

  “Sunny seems to think if I went and talked to the hotel that maybe I could smooth some ruffled feathers. And I’ve been calling Danny to see if he’s made any progress on Nora Worthington as our headliner. I thought if they knew she would be filling in, that might influence them.”

  “It’s unfortunate that the flowers and things are creating a problem for the hotel, but it’s not unusual.” I dropped the notebook in my bag. “People express grief in a lot of different ways.”

  “I have an appointment with the hotel general manager at four o’clock. Would you be willing to come along?” she asked.

  “I’m happy to come along as moral support, sugar.” I was sure Diana’s influence would be our best chance to charm them, but I was happy to provide backup.

  “Great, thanks. I knew I could count on you.”

  “Do you want me to pick you up or meet you there?”

  “It would be wonderful for you to pick me up if you’d don’t mind.”

  “No worries, hon. I’ll get you about twenty minutes before four.”

  “Thanks.”

  We ended our call and I finished packing up my things, and headed home to let Dogbert out and freshen up.

  I parked in my drive not bothering to pull into the garage since I was leaving so soon. As usual the two felines glanced up as if to say, “Oh, it’s just you.” And Dogbert greeted me like I’d been gone for months.

  “I know you’re glad to see me, even though you pretend you’re not.” I called to Thelma and Louise as I grabbed Dogbert’s leash and led him back outside. We did a quick once around the neighborhood again and we were back home.

  I promised Dogbert a beach run or a dog park visit sometime this weekend. Not only was my pooch not getting enough exercise but neither was I. Since walking away from the beauty pageant scene several years ago, I’ve never stressed about my weight. But I feel so much better when I’m able to burn off some worries with a run, and my favorite was an early morning or evening run on the beach.

  I freshened up my makeup, slipped on a new Lela Rose checked knit that looked a bit more business-like than the popover dress I’d been wearing. I pulled my hair back in a beaded clip I’d picked up at a little shop in downtown Laguna and even slipped on some heels. My mama would have been proud.

  As I stepped outside I blew kisses to my fur babies. “I’ll be back in no time,” I called. Dogbert cocked his head to one side as if he understood. Again, the cats barely opened their eyes. “It’s a good thing I know you love me.”

  I started to get into my car when I noticed a paper stuck under the windshield wiper. A flyer maybe?

  I unfolded it and froze.

  SHE’S DEAD & SO IS UR BIG EVENT -CANCEL B4 SOME1 ELSE DIES.

  Chapter Nine

  I SWUNG AROUND but didn’t spot anyone. I’d only been in the house a few minutes after returning with Dogbert. No strange cars. No figures lurking in the bushes.

  Carefully carrying the note by a corner, I hurried back into the house and grabbed a plastic sandwich bag to put it in and called Malone. My call went straight to voicemail. Not wanting to be late for our appointment at the hotel, I stowed the plastic bag in my purse, dashed back to my car, and put it in gear.

  The drive to Diana’s was only a few minutes. Her castle-like home was located in Ruby Point, another of Laguna’s exclusive gated communities.

  Diana must have been watching for me because when I pulled into her drive she came out immediately. Her Carolina Herrera shirtdress was a bright-blue leaf print and accented her peaches-and-cream complexion and bright-blue eyes. We should all look so good at eighty. Diana had outlived four husbands and was currently dating a handsome Italian restaurateur. Dino owned a popular Laguna Beach restaurant and adored Diana. Diana wasn’t quite ready for marriage number five.

  “Thanks for picking me up, kid.” She slid in and buckled her seat belt. “Don’t you look great.” She touched the fabric of the dress. “New?”

  “It is.” I had figured she would notice. “I thought I’d look a little more professional in a dress than my usual dog drool-covered jeans.”

  “Caro, you look good in everything, but my favorite is dog drool.” Diana chuckled. “All right. Let’s see if we can talk down an anxious hotel manager.”

  “There’s something else.” I fished in my purse and handed her the bag with the note. “It was on my car. In my driveway.”

  “Have you called Detective Malone?”

  “I left him a message.”

  “It sounds like someone doesn’t want our fundraiser to be a success.”

  “I guess not. But why? Could it be that Purple’s death had something to do with the event itself?”

  “I can’t imagine who would be against such an important cause. It doesn’t make sense.” Diana shook her head.

  “No, it doesn’t,” I agreed. “Let’s go take care of the hotel and then I’ll drop this off to Malone.”

  “It’s an important cause, Caro. But nothing is more important than your safety. If Malone thinks we should cancel, we cancel. We’ll figure out another way to help Warriors for the Paws.”

  “We’re not cancelling.” I would not give in to someone who thought a note could scare me.

  When we arrived at the hotel, two of the valets rushed out to open our car doors. I handed over my keys. The valets were all beginning to look familiar to me. Lately it seemed like my car had spent more time in the hotel garage than my garage at home.

  A wilting carnation smell hit us as we neared the hotel entrance. Diana and I picked our way around a large mound of flowers, homemade signs, stuffed animals, and other sorts of tributes. At least twenty purple balloons bobbed in the breeze. A group of maintenance workers worked to clear a path on the sidewalk.

  We checked in with the concierge who phoned Mr. Sherman’s office. A young woman showed up to escort us to the offices. The lobby was a mixture of business people and Purple fans. It was a strange combination but in all everyone seemed to be minding their own business.

  The executive offices were as nicely appointed as the rest of the hotel but had a behind-the-scenes vibe. While the lobby, restaurants, and suites were all about the resort experience, this area was all about function. Not unlike the behind-the-scenes at pageants, there was a steady hum of people working hard to make every detail perfect on the “show” side. We were ushered into a board room to wait.

  The hotel manager Sherman arrived with a couple of other people in tow. Tania, I recognized, and the other person he introduced was Jamie, their h
ead of maintenance.

  “Thank you for seeing us.” Diana didn’t wait for the others to introduce the topic. She commanded the stage immediately. “We know the Purple tributes have become a problem for your staff.”

  Tania nodded in agreement. “The crew gets them cleaned up and more appear. Guests can hardly get to the entrance at times.”

  “I completely understand the problem that creates.” Diana smiled at Jamie and though he was probably half her age, he was taken in by the Diana Knight charm.

  Mr. Sherman, not so much.

  “We just can’t have it. We have other guests. Other events.” He shook his head. “It’s not in keeping with our corporate image.” He looked to Tania for backup.

  “It’s the way some people deal with their grief,” I explained. “You see the phenomena frequently with a celebrity death. Princess Diana or Prince, for example. There were huge fan tributes.”

  “But you understand the hotel is simply not equipped to handle something like this.” He pushed up his glasses with such force I was afraid he’d hurt himself.

  “We do understand.” Diana was so calm it helped to keep the tone of the conversation civil. “However, I don’t believe that if we were to cancel or move the event that the tributes would stop.”

  “I believe you’re right, Diana,” I agreed. “The truth of the matter is this is where Purple died. And that’s the connection, not Barking with the Stars. Regardless of what we decide to do, the fans will keep coming.”

  “True.” Jamie, the facilities guy rubbed his chin.

  “I agree.” Tania stood and went to look out the window. “The fans will keep bringing more and more flowers and signs and purple balloons.”

  “What if we gave them a better place to leave those things? Perhaps away from the front of the hotel,” I offered.

  “I like that idea.” Jamie perked up.

  “And what if we gave them a different focus for their tributes?”