Barking with the Stars Read online

  And, on the personal front, though I really didn’t want to go there, when had Sam and I become an issue Diana felt we needed to talk about?

  I pulled into the valet lane and got out. Handing my keys to the young man, I crossed the other lanes and met Jamie who was talking with Tania. From the body language, there was more than a business interest on Jamie’s part, but not so much on Tania’s. She was a girl on the mission to make it in the hotel business so I wasn’t sure he was going to get anywhere with her.

  “Hello, Caro,” Tania said, as I walked up. “Jamie was telling me about the new solution. That will be good. It allows the fans to grieve and still our regular guests can check in without a problem.”

  Just as Tania spoke, another car pulled up and let out a group of teens carrying bouquets of purple flowers. Two of the people, hard to say if they were male or female, were dressed in full Purple garb with flowing black cape and a white wig with a streak of purple. At least they weren’t carrying around dogs like the Purple imitator we had seen the night Purple was killed.

  “Ms. Lamont, if you’ll come with me.” Jamie pointed to a golf cart parked near the hotel entrance. “I’ll talk to you later, Tania.”

  “I’d better get back inside. We have had an extremely busy day and some staff absences.” She turned to go back in. “Caro, if you have a moment would you stop by before you leave?”

  “Certainly.” I climbed into the golf cart with Jamie.

  What he proposed was a great alternative. It was a waiting area beyond the hotel entrance with patio brick and stone benches and a fountain at the center. Planned as a pick-up-and-drop-off area for ferrying guests to excursions such as whale watching or para-sailing, it was not yet being used. There wasn’t really parking, but there was a small turnaround lane for vans and buses.

  “We’ll eventually fill pots with tropical plants and bring in some other vegetation, but we weren’t quite ready. The fountain hasn’t been turned on, but I believe I could get it working by tomorrow.”

  “This is perfect. Close enough to the hotel but it gets the congestion away from the entrance.” I walked around the area. “I know your staff will probably have to clean up on a regular basis, at least until after the event, but this will keep the traffic out of the hotel entrance.” I peered into the basin of the currently non-working fountain. “Any chance you could replace some of those bulbs with purple lights?”

  “Bet I can find some.” Jamie made a note. “And we can put up some signage to direct people to this area.”

  “Great.” We climbed back into the golf cart. “I’ll touch base with Tania before I leave, and we’ll see if we can get a news story on this tomorrow. I’ll check in with you before we talk with any news people and make sure you’re ready.”

  Back at the hotel, I thanked Jamie and headed inside to talk with Tania. I found her behind the long front counter talking with one of the desk clerks. She spotted me right away.

  “You wanted to talk to me?” We walked toward the lobby conversation area. It was early but the hotel restaurants and bars were already packed with people, and there were several groups waiting to be seated.

  “I was asked to give you this.” She handed me a plain white envelope.

  I opened it and inside was a handwritten note that said simply, “Call me tomorrow at noon.” And there was a phone number. The number wasn’t a local one.

  “Who gave you this?” I turned the note over in my hand.

  Tania shrugged. “It was a lady. I’m not sure how old, but she was not tall.” She held her hand to indicate shorter than I was.

  “One of the ladies that Diana and I met with earlier today?”

  “No, this was a different lady.” She frowned. “I’m sorry, I didn’t pay that much attention to what she looked like. There was a problem with the cleaning crew, and I just took the note and told her I’d see that you got it.”

  “Don’t worry about it, Tania.” I smiled at her. The girl had plenty going on. “I’ll call her tomorrow.”

  “Okay, I’d better get back.” She hurried back to the front desk and I dug in my bag for my valet ticket. Though, at this point, it seemed I was in and out so much the parking attendant knew me and my car.

  FINALLY HOME AND getting ready for bed, I felt like the day had been three days rolled into one. The meeting at the Koffee Klatch with Detective Malone that morning seemed weeks ago. I was flat out exhausted.

  Grandma Tillie used to say, “My get up and go, got up and went.” And boy that was how I felt tonight. I changed into PJs, brewed a chamomile tea, and cuddled up with my fur babies.

  I missed Grandma Tillie so much. She’d been the steadiness in my life when there hadn’t been much solid. Always there, always the same. She took people at face value and would have been baffled by a star who hid her face, by a gaggle of people who mourned someone they hadn’t really known, and, if I were honest, by my own resistance to simply sorting things out with Sam and with Melinda.

  Grandma Tillie always called it like she saw it.

  Things were always simpler when we were at Grandma Tillie’s.

  Which was probably what had started the whole fight between my cousin and me over Grandma Tillie’s brooch. I suppose in a way we both were trying to hang on to her.

  My thoughts turned to Mr. Swanson. I needed to do something to deal with him and his offer to surrender the brooch to the highest bidder. I didn’t think it was right to pay, but I also couldn’t walk away. I had to admit there was a part of me that wanted to be the one to take possession of it. I wanted to be the one to give it to Mel and say, “Let’s stop this.”

  How crazy was that? We’d fought over the dang thing, stolen it from each other, flaunted our possession of it, and now when it came down to it there was still the competition wanting to be the one to do the right thing—first.

  I sank back into the couch cushions and reached for my tea and a book I’d been in the middle of reading. Escape time.

  I was almost asleep when my cell phone rang. It was Sam.

  I scrambled out of the cushions and reached for my cell. “Hello, there,” I answered.

  “I’m sorry. It sounds like I woke you.” I didn’t detect any background noise this time.

  “I’m afraid I was half-asleep, sitting here pretending to read.”

  “Well, I won’t keep you long.” He hesitated. “I wanted to check in. I heard on the news that the artist, Purple, had been killed. Wasn’t that the main star for the event you and Diana have been working on?”

  “Yes, that’s her. A sad situation and clearly a lot of changes with the event. I’ll fill you in when you get back.” I didn’t go into detail. I simply wasn’t up to it. “Are your meetings going well?”

  “So far so good,” he answered without elaborating.

  I twirled the fringe on the throw I’d put on my lap for the cats. The strain of what we weren’t saying hung between us.

  I asked about his Border Collie, Mac, who was staying with Sam’s grandmother while he was gone. I offered to stop by and take Mac to the dog park if that would help. In reality, the offer was no sacrifice on my part. I’m partial to the breed; I’d had one as a kid and would have one now if I had the space for the kind of physical activity needed.

  And, Mac was special. Not just because he was the reason Sam and I had met, but also because he was smart and loyal and clever. What a great dog.

  When we said good-bye, Sam had still not mentioned the beautiful blond on his arm in the picture Betty had shown me. I still hadn’t mentioned that my ex-husband was the prime suspect in a murder investigation. And neither of us had acknowledged there was any sort of a problem between us.

  I normally wasn’t one to kick a problem down the road to deal with later, but in this case, I needed some time to think about where I stood.

  I
was the one who’d insisted on no commitments. I’d argued let’s just enjoy the present and not look too far into the future.

  Be careful what you wish for.

  Chapter Eleven

  MORNING AND COFFEE made for a better attitude on my part. And, anyhow, I wasn’t one to wallow. At least not for very long.

  There were things between Sam and me that needed to be sorted out, but that was best done in person. And I needed to sort some thoughts out myself before then.

  As I got ready to head out to my first appointment of the day, I was more optimistic than I’d been in a while. The hotel had identified a place for the tribute, Danny had used his influence to get us a great headliner, the fundraiser would go on. It would benefit some very deserving heroes.

  I pulled out my phone, called Jamie, and made sure he was ready. Then I called Callum MacAvoy’s number, left a brief message about the tributes, and gave him Jamie’s number to call for information about the location.

  I had hoped to arrange a time with Mandy to stop by and talk to her. I wanted to know more about Trevor. I’d given the information to Malone but I thought, if Trevor had threatened her, she might be more apt to talk to me. Also, I wondered if she’d received any mail for Purple that might give a clue as to someone who wanted the event shut down. And I also wanted to ask her about Purple’s stalker. The information I’d found online didn’t mention that they’d ever identified who he/she was.

  Mandy didn’t answer her cell. Instead, the call went straight to voicemail so I left a message. I’d try again after my first appointment.

  And maybe the mystery woman who wanted me to call at noon would shed some light on what was going on.

  When I pulled up in front of John and Marilyn Halston’s house, I noticed the black SUV and felt my blood pressure kick up a notch.

  Geoffrey, you continue to amaze me with boorish behavior.

  I hadn’t called to confirm our appointment, but I’d had a standing appointment with the Halstons at this time for several months.

  I rang the doorbell and Marilyn seemed surprised to see me. “Oh my goodness, hello Caro. We weren’t expecting you.”

  We? I’m not often speechless, but I was this time.

  The utter gall of the man. And how had he known about this appointment? He must have somehow gotten access to my appointment calendar to have both the time and the address.

  I could hear Hamilton, the Halstons’ pug, barking like crazy in the other room. It was just a matter of time until the poor guy got himself so agitated he couldn’t breathe. Marilyn held open the door and I stepped in and followed her down the hall.

  “Your colleague said you were taking a little time off to re-group, and so I was filling him in on what we’d been doing with Hamilton based on your advice,” she explained over her shoulder as I followed her to the family room where Geoff was seated on the couch. The pug raced around the room and hurried to greet me with snuffles and barks of excitement. A behavior we’d been working on eliminating for at least three months.

  What an ever-loving mess.

  And I knew Geoff’s tactics. He was counting on me to not make a scene.

  I turned to Marilyn. “I am so sorry this has happened. Geoffrey Carlisle is not my colleague. He is not working with me. He is here under false pretenses.”

  She looked at Geoff. I was pleased to see the shocked look on his face.

  I turned back to Marilyn. “I can’t throw him out of your house, but I sure as Sam Hill would if I could.”

  She looked at Geoff. Looked at me. And back at Geoff.

  “I think you should go.” Marilyn’s voice was firm.

  Geoffrey stopped on his way out and whispered in my ear. “That lady may think you’re stable, but we both know you’re not.”

  I blame my slow reflexes that he was able to exit walking normally.

  Once I heard the front door shut, I said to Marilyn, “I’m very sorry about that.”

  “Not your fault.” She held back a grin. “Shall we get started?”

  After a good thirty minutes with Hamilton and Marilyn, seeing how they were doing with the exercise I’d recommended, we went outside and tried some new things.

  At the end of the hour, I apologized again for the problem with Geoff and promised to check back in a couple of weeks to see what progress Hamilton had made.

  This time I didn’t waste any time dealing with the Geoffrey problem. I went straight to the office, pulled up my client list, and composed an email that I hoped was both frank and professional. The people who had trusted me enough to work with them and their furry family members deserved to know a slime ball like Geoffrey was out there, not only spreading rumors about me, but also attempting to take advantage of them.

  I took a deep breath and hit send.

  I looked at my phone and read a text from Diana confirming our mid-afternoon meeting at the hotel with Purple’s fiancé, Drake Owen.

  Then, I looked at the time. It was almost noon. Pulling the notecard out of my bag, I dialed the number on the paper. It rang and rang. No answer. Not even a recording so I could leave a message. How strange was that? To ask me to call and then not answer.

  I’d try later. But the note had specifically said to call at noon.

  I grabbed lunch at Zinc on the way to my next appointment. I’d called these clients to confirm just to make sure. I hoped for real progress for recently married Dan and Jennifer Moore’s Basset Hound. Gustav was young and adorable, and Basset Hounds are relatively easy to work with. But when Gustav got tired of walking, he would simply lie down on the sidewalk. They would be forced to either drag him or carry him home. Walking the pup for ten blocks, and then carrying him the ten blocks back home was getting old fast.

  The couple had never had a dog before, and so they also needed to adjust expectations about the amount of work involved.

  I’d given them some options to try with him such as incentives to keep him moving. The breed, like most hounds, are driven by their nose so the incentive didn’t always have to be a treat, it could be something like tracking an item by scent. They reported making good progress with the suggestions so far. I left them with a few more ideas. Bassets are notoriously stubborn so working with them is mostly about being just as stubborn. Slow and consistent are the watchwords. I also left Gustav with a few samples of some apple pupcakes, that new recipe I’d tried, but cautioned the couple against overdoing the treats because obesity can be a problem for Basset Hounds.

  Leaving the Moores’ top-of-the-world home high in the Laguna hills, I made a quick stop at home to change out of my jeans and give Dogbert a break. And then I was off to the hotel for our meeting with Purple’s fiancé.

  The line of people who filed toward the area set up for fans to leave mementos confirmed that the new location was working. The hotel had put up some tasteful signage directing people to the area.

  I’d just stepped out of my car, handed my keys to the valet, and started toward the entrance when Callum MacAvoy pulled up in the News 5 van.

  He got out and motioned for the driver to pull forward where the fans were lined up. “Thanks for the tip, Caro.” He held out his hand to shake mine.

  “Consider it a public service.” I shook his hand reluctantly, still leery of him and reporters in general. Carry-over baggage, I know, but there it was.

  “What are you doing here?” MacAvoy looked around. “What’s the news on the event?”

  “There will be an official announcement later today.” It wasn’t up to me to share the news.

  “A new headliner?” He sidled closer.

  Somehow, he knew just what to zero in on. How did he do that?

  “Perhaps.” I moved back.

  “Aw, come on, Caro, I deserve the scoop.”

  “I would if I could, MacAvoy.” Not only had he
given me the fan club presidents’ names, but I really did appreciate him getting the word out about the new area for flowers and memorials.

  “I can’t promise anything”—I turned to go inside—“but I’ll see what I can do.”

  “Great!!” His TV smile became a genuine one. “Thanks.”

  I checked in at the front desk for a location for the meeting and then followed the directions I’d been given to the second-floor terrace and to the Coral Reef room.

  The Coral Reef room was a private meeting space the hotel had provided to us. While the committee could meet in the restaurant or at the coffee bar, meeting with a country star this big would have caused a media storm. We’d dealt with one problem. We didn’t want to create another.

  I’M NOT SURE HOW I ended up being the first committee member to arrive for the meeting with Drake Owen, but I confess I found myself a little star-struck when I entered the room. He’d been standing at the window looking outside and he crossed the room to meet me. Very few guys tower over me, but this cowboy sure did.

  Tall, lanky, and aw-shucks handsome, he was a favorite of country music fans and the current hot ticket on the concert circuit. And heck, I was from Texas, I could appreciate a nice-looking cowboy hat tipped back on a tanned forehead. Though I was pretty dang sure this one cost a good piece more than the ones worn to round up cattle on the Montgomery family ranch. Drake’s shaggy haircut probably cost as much as my high-end salon cut, but it gave him a “just walked in from the great outdoors” look.

  “Hello, Drake. I’m Caro Lamont.” I held out my hand. “I’m part of the committee that’s been working on this event.”

  “Nice to meet you.” He removed his hat, ushered me to the table that had been set up with a pitcher of iced tea, a pitcher of lemonade, a bucket of ice, and glasses. He pulled out a chair and invited me to sit.

  Grandma Tillie would have been impressed.