Barking with the Stars Read online

  For that matter, I was impressed.

  “My condolences.” I sat, tucking my dark-blue Dolce & Gabbana lace skirt around my knees. “I’m sure this is very difficult for you.” I swallowed. “I’m sorry we need to bother you at a time like this.”

  “It’s okay.” He sat down and tossed his hat on the chair next to him. Some emotion passed over his face. I wasn’t sure if it was pain or something else, but I try not to judge. Everyone handles grief in different ways.

  “The rest of the group should be here soon.” I hoped.

  “You knew Pan?” He tipped his head sideways and looked at me, perhaps trying to figure out my role in all of this.

  “Pan?” I was confused.

  “Yeah, sorry.” He gave a small chuckle. “Pandora. Pandora was her real name.” There was something wistful in his smile. “Never understood why she didn’t just use it. It’s a fine name. Marketable even. But then what do I know. I’m a country boy. I was actually born with this dumb name.”

  “I guess I must have realized she had another name, but everyone around here called her Purple.” I hadn’t heard anyone, even Mandy, call her anything but Purple.

  “Part of the mystique she’d built. Her brand, she called it.” He went silent.

  I let the silence settle. Sometimes, especially around a loss, people don’t get a chance to process. They’re so busy taking care of things that need taking care of, they don’t have the opportunity to stop and reflect.

  “How did you two meet?” It was probably out there in the press or on the Internet, but I hadn’t followed the tabloid-worthy romance.

  “You’d think a music thing, right?” He grinned.

  “That would seem natural.” I nodded.

  “No, it was one of those big Hollywood after-party deals.” He looked across the room as if remembering. “I won’t out the movie star because a guy like me is lucky to be invited to an A-list shindig. But Pan was as bored with the party as I was.”

  “Kindred spirits.” I had seen photos of them online, of course, when I’d searched for info about Purple.

  “I used a stupid line and said, ‘Do you want to blow this popsicle stand?’” He looked off in the distance as if remembering. “She said, yes. And, as they say, the rest is history.”

  “You’re going to miss her.”

  “You know, I am.” Again, that hesitation. “You have a significant other?” His green eyes pinned me.

  I was caught off guard. Did I?

  “Sort of,” I answered.

  “There’s no ‘sort of’ in relationships.” He leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “At least that’s what I think. You’re either all in or you’re nowhere.”

  Was that where Sam and I were? Nowhere?

  And was Drake referring to his own engagement with Purple (or Pan as he called her)? Had there been problems between them? Two big stars. It had to be hard to have any time together at all with both of them on the road. The fan club ladies, my source of all things Purple, hadn’t mentioned anything, but we hadn’t really talked about the engagement.

  The door to the suite opened and Diana and Sunny stepped inside. Diana elegant, as always, in a vivid-blue summer knit and Sunny in an all-white linen ensemble completed with a bright-pink scarf.

  “Thanks, sis.” Drake reached over and patted my knee as he rose to greet them. “You’re a real good listener.”

  I was happy to provide an ear to anyone dealing with such a terrible loss. Drake was right; I was a good listener, and I was pretty sure I detected something other than grief. There was something else. Something he wasn’t being quite forthcoming about in his relationship with Purple.

  Now, I’m not saying I have liar radar. If I had that superpower, I sure as heck would have never gotten involved with Geoffrey Carlisle. And I also wouldn’t have been so shocked when I found out he’d been having affairs right under my oblivious nose.

  Introductions were made and Drake was again the epitome of old-fashioned southern charm as he shook hands with both Diana and Sunny. He then ushered them to the conference table as he had me. Diana and Sunny expressed condolences to Drake and again I noted the bit of distance as he spoke about Purple.

  “I don’t know if Caro has filled you in but one of our committee members, Danny Mahalovich, has arranged with Nora Worthington to participate in the Barking with the Stars event this weekend,” Sunny explained.

  “Wow.” He paused, reached for the pitcher of tea on the table, and poured a glass, offering it to Diana. “But, wow, that’s quite a coup. She’s bound to be a draw.”

  “We’re grateful she’s agreed to help out.” Diana accepted the glass of tea. “However, we wanted to talk with you about an idea we had, and we wanted to be sure you were okay with it.”

  Drake nodded, encouraging her to go ahead. He offered drinks to Sunny and me before pouring himself a glass of lemonade.

  “Purple had become so much a part of the event and so supportive of the cause that, in fact, the press began referring to it as the ‘Red, White, and Purple’ fundraiser,” Sunny said. “So, we’d like to plan a segment that is a tribute to Purple.”

  “We don’t want it to be construed that we’re taking advantage of these tragic circumstances in any way,” Diana continued.

  “In talking with her fans that have remained at the hotel, it seems that it might give them a bit of an outlet for their grief,” I added.

  “I think that’s a great idea. And, in fact, I’m sure Pan would love the idea. She was doing a thing at the end with her dog, right?”

  “A song honoring her grandfather.” I had been touched by her idea.

  “Ya’ll have done a bang-up job under awful circumstances.” Drake wiped some of the condensation off his glass. “I can’t imagine why anyone would have a problem with what you’ve got planned.”

  “Have arrangements been made for services?” Diana asked.

  “Well, I don’t know if you know this or not, but she didn’t have any family left. It had been just her and her Gramps for quite a while. So, I guess I’m kind of it. I’m not planning anything public. We’ll do a little memorial back in Oakwood, her hometown, and inter her ashes in the little country cemetery where her grandfather is buried. Though Purple was very public in her professional life and played it to the hilt, she was very private in her personal life. I’d like to keep it that way.”

  “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude.” Diana touched his hand.

  “No offense taken, ma’am.”

  “Would you like to attend the event and maybe say a few words?” Sunny suggested.

  “I’d sure like that but I’m not positive I can commit at this point.” He put his glass down. “I interrupted recording sessions in Nashville to come here and deal with the details, so I’m not sure if I’ll even be in town on the weekend.”

  “Of course.” Sunny gathered her things. “Please let us know if there’s anything we can do.”

  Diana and I stood as well and shook hands with Drake. We promised to keep in touch and let him know how the plans shaped up for the tribute at the event. And he promised to let Sunny know whether he’d be in town for the weekend event.

  Interesting. He’d either deliberately lied about interrupting his recording sessions in Nashville to come or Danny had his information wrong. He’d said Drake had been in the area. There was no reason to doubt Danny, but if Drake had lied to Danny, that begged an additional question. Was Drake hiding something?

  Was the distance I’d noticed simply how Drake was handling dealing with his loss? Or was the good-old-country-boy persona an act and there was something more going on?

  Diana, Sunny, and I went our separate ways. The lobby was busy with people checking out and checking in. I spotted Tania helping with something behind the desk and waved at her. The va
let brought my car around and I slipped behind the wheel.

  Leaving the hotel and heading back to the office, I mused about Drake’s view of relationships. All in or nowhere.

  Sam had lately pressed for more of a commitment on my part, and I’d resisted. Had he decided to move on? I’d been the one unwilling to make any promises, and so I had no right at all to get my knickers in a knot if he’d decided to see someone else.

  My greatest fear when I’d first started seeing Sam was that he had all the earmarks of a player. Fancy car, entry into the exclusive clubs, invites to the best parties, surrounded by luxury. Then as I got to know the substance of the man, I changed my thinking. When I met the grandmother who raised him, I’d understood the essence of who Sam Gallanos really was. Or thought I had.

  Apparently, the fear still lived on. The mistakes I’d made. You didn’t have to be a psychologist to figure out that my reluctance to be “all in,” as Drake described it, was directly related to my poor judgment in falling all in with Geoffrey.

  Sam was different. I could trust Sam, couldn’t I?

  Could I?

  I didn’t trust myself to know.

  Chapter Twelve

  BACK IN THE office, I updated my files and checked my email. I had a couple of really nice responses to my earlier email about Geoffrey. He’d underestimated the value of the relationships I’d built working with people and their pets over the years.

  I wished I’d approached the problem head on to begin with, but I’d been trained to bite my lip and put a good face on it rather than air my dirty laundry. No matter how hard you fight it, that southern training runs deep.

  When I’d moved to Laguna Beach after the divorce, I hadn’t known for sure what I would do. Initially, it had simply seemed like a good place to lick my wounds. But it was really a close-knit community and my business had flourished on word of mouth. I still sometimes longed for Texas, but I loved Laguna. And though some of that was the amazing weather and the beach, mostly it was the people. I’d hated it when Geoffrey had shown up and begun causing problems in the spot I’d chosen to start over, but I had every confidence that he’d move on when it became clear that the pet therapist gig wasn’t the easy money he’d thought it was.

  Even more reason to get him cleared and find the real killer so he could move on and leave town.

  I didn’t have any more appointments, so I decided to pack up and call it a day. The Barking with the Stars event had monopolized my time and attention lately, and I was okay with that, but I had to admit I was counting the days. I’d be glad when it was over and things could get back to some semblance of normal.

  I’d closed down my computer and gathered my tote bag when I heard the bell on the front door of the office ding. With Verdi only part-time, we were used to not always having a receptionist to greet people. More often than not, it was a delivery.

  “Hello,” I called. “Be right there.”

  I stepped out into the reception area to see Cindy and Yuki, the two fan club presidents. Cindy towered over the smaller woman. She wore a sun dress with big multi-colored pansies and Yuki sported a tunic with scattered lilacs. They seemed an odd combination in some ways and yet complemented each other in so many others.

  “We hope it’s okay that we came here.” Cindy looked around.

  “Of course, it is.” I motioned toward the door of my office. “Come on in.”

  “We didn’t know if we needed an appointment.” Yuki’s voice was soft. “We wanted to talk to you and didn’t want to talk at the hotel.”

  “It’s not a problem.” I moved the bag I’d been packing off my desk and pointed toward the easy chairs. “Have a seat. Would you like some water or something else to drink?”

  “No, thank you,” Cindy answered for them both.

  “You wanted to talk to me?” I sat down with them. “What can I do for you?”

  “We just wanted you to know that Marsha Reilley has been asking around about you.” Cindy said the words in a rush.

  “Marsha Reilley?” I didn’t recognize the name. “Should I know who that is?”

  “She’s a crazy Poser.” Yuki bit her lip. “You know, not a real fan.”

  “One of the ones that dress up like Purple,” Cindy explained. “She has the whole wig, outfits, and even a dog.”

  “Oh.” Now I got the “Poser” reference. “Why would she want information about me?”

  “She claims she needs to talk to you about her dog.” Cindy twisted the handle of her purse. “But I think she’s just looking for information about the investigation.”

  “Why would she think I’d have that kind of information?” I asked. “For that matter, why would she want that kind of info?”

  “Just to be a big shot.” Yuki sat up straighter. “There are many of us who admired Purple. We loved her music. We loved the real her.”

  Cindy nodded, her eyes suddenly misty. “Then there are those who weren’t respectful of her privacy and wanted the attention on themselves.”

  A part of me was listening to what they were saying and was empathetic to the upset pair. Another part of me was fascinated with the whole fandom phenomena. These two had bonded because they agreed on what being a fan meant. Trading on Purple’s image and fame they felt was disrespectful. I was sure the “Posers” would have a different opinion.

  “Well, I really appreciate you letting me know.” I smiled at the two.

  “Neither of us provided her with your contact information.” Cindy stood. “But she can no doubt find your office location just like we did.”

  I had an office number on my business cards but the number was either forwarded to voicemail or to my cell phone. Most people were referred to me by one of my current clients, so very few just dropped by. Giving out the info on my business card would not have been a problem, but I appreciated that they were concerned about my privacy and wanted to protect me from the Posers.

  “Say.” I had a thought. “I received a note with a phone number.” I got up and pulled the note card out of my bag. “Do you happen to know this number?”

  I handed the card to Cindy. She looked at it for a few seconds.

  “I don’t recognize the number.” She handed the card to Yuki.

  Yuki looked at it and then shook her head. “I don’t know it.”

  “I got the card from a hotel staff person and I called it at the time that was on there, but no one answered.” I took the note back. “And there was no opportunity to leave a message.”

  “It sounds like the kind of drama a Poser would resort to.” Cindy rolled her eyes.

  “There were a couple of other things I wanted to ask you about.” Malone would say I should leave the asking to him, but I couldn’t resist when I had the Purple experts right in front of me. “If you have time.”

  “Sure,” Cindy said.

  Yuki nodded agreement.

  “I understand that about a year ago, Purple had a problem with a stalker.” I was sure they must know about the stalker, but neither had mentioned anything.

  “She did,” Cindy confirmed. “An online troll.”

  “The troll person posted bad things online and sent Purple emails,” Yuki explained. “According to Mandy, they also came to her shows and sent notes backstage.”

  “What kind of notes?” I asked. “Did Mandy ever say?”

  “We never actually saw one of the notes, but Mandy said they were threatening.” Cindy’s brow furrowed. “She said they’d taken measures to protect Purple. Do you think . . .” She stopped, and swallowed, eyes wide. “Do you think Purple’s killer might be the stalker?”

  “I’m sure the police are following up on every lead.” I hadn’t meant to alarm the two very sweet fans. “I just read about it and wondered if they’d ever caught the person.”

  “They did
not.” Yuki sighed. “We did talk about it in our newsletters, but just to keep Purple’s fans informed.”

  “Mandy gave us permission.” Cindy traced one of the flowers on her sundress thoughtfully. “We wouldn’t have covered it otherwise. You don’t want to give people ideas.”

  “That makes sense.” I loved their concern with the consequences of what they were putting out there. Mr. TV, Callum MacAvoy, could use a lesson in that kind of thinking. “The other question I had for you was about the fan with the purple guitar I saw you talking to a couple of nights ago.”

  “That’s Lew Simpson.” Cindy folded her hands. “He’s more of a collector than a fan.”

  Ah. So, another category. There were true fans, there were Posers, and there were collectors.

  “He has many very cool Purple collectibles.” Yuki brushed her long straight hair off her face. “Items no one else has.”

  “If I remember correctly, you were interviewing him?”

  “Yes,” Cindy confirmed. “He talked about some items he brought to be signed, like the guitar. And other memorabilia he has at home. I once saw a picture of his house in another fanzine and it is stuffed to overflowing with collectibles from, not just Purple, but other popular stars.”

  “I imagine that’s a pretty competitive market.” It seemed to me given the hundreds, if not thousands, of fans who been coming to the hotel to leave tributes since Purple’s death, that there must be people willing to pay a high price for the types of items this guy traded in. Were there also people willing to kill to get their hands on it?

  “That’s true,” Cindy agreed. “I allow advertising in the newsletter, but only reputable dealers or fans who may need to sell items from their collection.”

  “Thank you so much for your information.” I was glad the two had stopped by. “I have to confess this is all new to me, so I appreciate the education.”

  “We won’t bother you any further.” Yuki stood, her delicate flowered tunic and her slight stature made her look younger than I knew she probably was. “We did have a request of you.” She looked at Cindy.