Raiders of the Lost Bark Page 13

  I heard the water shut off. Betty would be back, ready to pick up where she’d left off with her endless interrogation. I flipped to my other side, keeping my back to the bedroom door.

  A distorted shadow on the window shade reminded me of a frumpy Lark silhouette. He obviously didn’t like me and thought I was involved with Addison’s death. Perhaps Betty had a point—it was time to call Grey and get a lawyer.

  The bedroom door swung open. I held my breath.

  “I know you’re not sleeping,” Betty said into the darkness.

  I remained quiet. Missy lifted her head for a second. With a sigh, she snuggled into the blankets and fell back asleep.

  Betty shuffled to the bed and sat on the edge. “Are you ready to tell me about the secret you and Addison had?”

  “There is no secret,” I ground out. “She was lying. I just met her a couple of months ago.”

  “Why would she lie?”

  “I don’t know. Why did she want me to write her foreword? Why did she lie to Hudson about her agent being here? She did things I can’t explain, let alone understand myself.” I yawned. “Please, go to bed.”

  “Are you going to call Grey?” she pressed.

  “I’m going to go to sleep.”

  “Do you want to compare notes on suspects?”

  “No.”

  “Do you want to tell ghost stories?”

  “No.”

  She bounced on the bed, jostling Missy and me. “I imagined this trip being more like a slumber party. Staying up late. Gossiping. Making a plan to find your brooch.”

  Missy grumbled, and jumped off the bed. The sound of her nails clicking on the marble floor echoed in the quiet as she made her way to the recliner. I wished I could escape as easily.

  “I promise I’ll find your granny’s pin. Don’t you worry about it. I got a plan.” Apparently, Betty refused to stop talking until I engaged in conversation for a few minutes.

  I surrendered and sat up. “You know, Veronica had a good idea. If you’re not going to talk to Ranger Elliott tomorrow, I will. I’d like to find out a little more about his relationship with Addison anyway.”

  “You’re barking up the wrong tree. No one turned in the brooch. It was stolen. I think Addison did it. We need to find a way to get the police to let us look through her stuff.”

  My eye started to twitch. I was either overtired or stressed out. I didn’t know how to get Betty off the jewel thief track. “Sunday has her belongings now. If we have to beg anyone, it’s her. Good luck with that, you’d get further with the police.”

  “Tomorrow, we’ll poke around the other RVs and tents. Bet we find a clue. Oh, I know. We can sneak into Sunday’s tent and look through the pet chef’s belongings while she’s giving that interview with Mac.”

  Whoa. “You call him Mac? When did that start?”

  “He told me to. Cookie, you gotta admit, he’s hot stuff.” She wiggled her freshly applied Pretty in Pink lipstick eyebrows. She was going to get makeup all over the pillow case.

  I punched the middle of my pillow, then fluffed up the edges. This conversation was over. “You be careful. Like my Grandma Tillie used to say about the losers I brought home from college, ‘Even rust will shine if you scrub it long enough.’”

  Chapter Seventeen

  THE NEXT MORNING, I woke up with dog paws in my face, and no clear direction about the letters. There was no dream, no epiphany, no grand idea on what my next move should be. It was a rather disappointing moment, but not unexpected.

  I rolled out of bed, pulled my hair into a ponytail, and tugged on a pair of sweatpants with a T-shirt. I took Missy out for a quick potty break. The morning sun filtered through a small cluster of sycamore trees, bathing the lawn in a golden glow. Weather wise, it was going to be a beautiful day. I waved to my fellow campers who were also out with their pooches. They waved back with a quick good morning shout. Maybe the whole situation was looking up. It seemed like I was off the camper pariah list, which was surprising after the late night visit from the Dynamic Duo.

  Once Missy finished, we returned to the RV to find a chai tea latte waiting for me. Hanging out with Betty had its perks. She tried to talk me into wearing matching outfits again. I’m not gonna lie, it scared me a little to think she might have bought animal print silk pajamas for me. Next, she’d want to paint my eyebrows with Vengeful Red lipstick.

  We had an hour until we were supposed to meet at Asher’s RV to start our snooping tour. I grabbed the mug of tea and hurried to shower. I was determined to find a way to turn the investigation off me and onto the real killer. I needed a Hail Mary. I needed a miracle.

  Betty, Raider, Missy, and I rolled up to Asher’s RV at exactly nine o’clock. Betty wore a bright pink ensemble, with the glittery words, “KISS ME” on her shirt. Discretion wasn’t her middle name. To think, I could have had one too, if only I would’ve agreed.

  Betty adjusted her handbag to rest in the crook of her arm, then rapped on the side of the RV. After fluffing her hair, she licked her lips.

  “Stop,” I said. “It’s too early in the morning for your crazy.”

  Betty pursed her lips, looking me over with an assessing gaze. “You could use a little crazy.”

  Call me a stick in the mud, but I preferred to camp with no makeup, jeans, and my graphic T-shirt, which read, “Bulldogs are a girl’s best friend.”

  My stomach growled. “What do you think we’ll have for breakfast? I’m starving.”

  “I’m looking forward to some flapjacks and bacon.”

  Asher swung open the door. “Good morning, ladies.” He greeted us with a wide smile, his white teeth a sharp contrast against his creamy mocha skin. “You look lovely this morning. Come in. Come in.” His accent seemed less British this morning.

  He jumped out and held the door open for us. The man was handsome. Betty wasn’t exaggerating about how sexy Asher was. This morning, he wore a gray beanie cap, long-sleeved white cotton tee, and black jeans. But his charisma was a little too rehearsed. Almost as if he was raised to be charming, not sincere.

  And I just had to say it. Why was a man in his forties showing interest in a woman twice his age? Was he just being nice? Or did he have an ulterior motive?

  “Eddie’s in the bedroom. Once you’re all inside, I’ll bring him out. There shouldn’t be a problem, but I didn’t want to overwhelm him.”

  “Thanks again for letting us check out your coach,” I said as we climbed the entry steps.

  He closed the door. “You’re welcome. Pepper isn’t here yet. I made coffee, if you’d like some.”

  I hadn’t thought it was possible, but Asher’s RV was even more posh than ours, with two-toned leather couches and recliners, a dropdown TV, and cherry wood cabinetry. Plus, he had a pop-out balcony.

  Betty ooed and ahed, running her fingers over the railing. “Cookie, you gotta buy a rig with a balcony.”

  She was so believable, I was half convinced I was in the market for an RV. “How many people does it sleep?” I asked.

  “Eight.”

  It was definitely roomy. Three adults, a Saint Bernard and two mid-sized dogs, walking around the middle of the coach, and I didn’t feel like we were all on top of each other.

  “The tile floors are heated from the front of the coach to the back.” Asher pressed a button on a touch screen panel. The recessed LED ceiling light blinked on. I looked up and blinked in surprise. Mirrored ceiling tiles. I’m sure someone thought it was tasteful. Maybe Betty and Asher were more suited for each other than I realized.

  Betty moved to the galley, pointing out the wine chiller. She began opening and closing drawers. “I bet you’re a good cook.”

  He shook his head. “Not really. I bet you are, though. What’s your signature dish?”

  My phone rang, sav
ing me from whatever dance those two were performing. I pulled the phone out of my pocket and saw Mama’s number. I sighed. I couldn’t keep putting it off. I needed to take the call.

  I handed Betty Missy’s leash and promised I’d be a quick as I could.

  I exited as I answered, immediately taking an offensive approach to direct the conversation. “Hey, Mama. It’s pretty early for you to be calling. Did you see Daddy off on a business trip?”

  “Good morning to you too, Melinda Sue. I watched the news last night on that celebrity network channel. Your daddy told me not to call, but I couldn’t sleep. Aren’t you camping in Laguna Hills?”

  I rubbed my face. News of murder traveled fast. Apparently all the way to Dallas. She had to be upset if she was calling me at six-thirty, Texas time. The worry in her voice was real. But its direction was unclear. Was she concerned for me or because I was once again smack dab in the middle of a scandal? As if she had room to talk.

  “Yes, Betty and I are glamping in the hills.” I headed toward the RV for some privacy.

  “The same campground where that pet chef was mur-dered?” Her voice rose, breaking on the word “murdered.”

  “Yes.” I debated if I should mention the letters. Or that Addison was the daughter of a former Miss America judge she’d slept with all those years ago. I feel myself getting prickly.

  “Did you know her?” she asked cautiously. If we were together, she’d be pouring a tall glass of sweet tea to deflect the importance of the question. I was on to her manipulations.

  “Not as well as people thought. Why do you ask? Does her name sound familiar?” I baited her.

  Suddenly, a memory of Mama and James Rae, giggling over dinner, popped into my head. They gently touched each other’s hands as they discussed who would pay for the check. I felt sick. How had I not picked up on their relationship at the time? I shook my head to erase the image.

  “Whatever do you mean?” Mama cried. “Why would a California pet chef’s name sound familiar to me? You’re not making any sense lately. I thought we had gotten closer after my last visit. I’m just heartbroken that you’ve pulled away from me.”

  I sighed. Suddenly, it was all about her. A familiar tactic, making it difficult to determine if she was playing me by diverting the topic, or just being herself. “I’ve done no such thing.”

  “Yes, you have. The last few weeks, you’ve been distant and stopped confiding in me.”

  I reached our RV just as my mama said, “Are you upset that I called Grey? I was just trying to help bring you two back together.”

  Adrenaline raced through my body. “You did what? When?”

  “Uh-oh.” She sounded like a little girl who’d gotten caught in a lie. “He didn’t mention that to you?”

  I grabbed the door to the RV and swung it open. “No, he did not. Mama, why in the world would you do that?” I continued on, not letting her explain. “Why can’t you stop interfering in my life? Lord knows, you have your own problems; stay out of mine.” I slammed the door, then stomped up the entry stairs.

  Silence on the other end. Not so much as a breath filtered across the airwaves.

  I sighed. She was waiting for me to apologize for losing my temper. And maybe I should. But I wasn’t going to. I just couldn’t do it, not now that I knew for a fact she’d cheated on my daddy. How dared she stick her nose into my personal life?

  “You’ve never talked to me like that before,” she said softly.

  I opened the blinds, keeping an eye out for Betty and the dogs. “Maybe I should have.”

  “You think you know something about me.” The iron in her voice was back. She wasn’t one to be walked over, not even by her own flesh and blood.

  I matched her grit. “I do. Addison Rae is the daughter of your former lover, James Rae—. Olympic athlete, and former Miss America judge.”

  Mama gasped. I waited for her to deny it. To rattle off some lame excuse. Instead, she hung up.

  “Really?” I shouted into the phone. “You just hang up?”

  I’d never pegged my mama for a coward. Raw emotions boiled inside me. I wasn’t sure what I was feeling at the moment, but none of it was positive. A sob of anger caught in the back of my throat. Damn her.

  I looked out the dining area window for a sign of Betty and the dogs. I’d been gone longer than I’d expected. Who knew what she was doing?

  My phone rang. Mama was back. I sucked in a fortifying breath. I didn’t even get in a greeting; she was already talking fifty words a second.

  “I was in the bedroom with your daddy. Do you want him to know we’re talking about this? Are you trying to break his heart all over again? We’ve moved past that whole sordid business years ago. Whatever she said to you, it’s a lie. I cannot believe you would throw this in my face, Melinda Sue Langston. We do not talk about The Incident.”

  I’d never heard or seen her lose control. She was the original perfectly composed, iron-fisted lady. I couldn’t begin to picture what she looked like right now.

  “Lord have mercy, Mama. You need to calm down. You’re talking so fast I can barely understand you.”

  I could hear her sniffling on the other end. I dropped to the recliner ashamed, and buried my face in the palm of my hand. I’d made my mama cry. And for a brief moment, I’d actually experienced a spark of satisfaction about it. “Are you going to let me talk?” I asked softly.

  “I don’t know that I want to hear what you have to say.”

  There was no easy way to tell her. “Addison had your letters to her father.”

  She gasped. “Hell’s bells.”

  The beginning of a smile played at the corner of my mouth. “Exactly. He passed away recently, and Addison found them. Up until then, she had no idea about the two of you. She was consumed with seeking some form of revenge, and threatened to send them to Daddy if I didn’t help her establish herself in town.”

  “That can’t happen—”

  “It won’t,” I interrupted. “She’s dead.”

  “Oh. Yes. Well, that’s unfortunate.” She regained her composure. “Are you okay?”

  I was slightly taken aback at the question. My knee-jerk response was I was fine. But was I? Heck, I wasn’t even sure what she was asking me. Okay about the affair? Okay that Addison was dead? She didn’t even know I was a suspect. “I’m getting there.”

  “Melinda, she was blackmailing you.”

  “I know.”

  “And now she’s dead.” She was starting to piece it all together.

  “That’s right.” I paced the length of the galley. “There’s more.”

  “I don’t know how much more I can take. I have never had a case of the vapors in my life, but if I was ever going to, this would be the time. Okay, I’m sitting down. Tell me everything.”

  I explained all the things Addison had wanted me to do in order to get the letters back. How I’d upheld my end of the agreement, but Addison always found a way to drag it on for just a little longer.

  “That’s because you’re honest. You may be as hardheaded as a mule, but you’re as honest as the day is long.”

  “Thank you.” Even though it was backhanded, it was probably the best compliment she’d ever given me. “The day Addison died, I was supposed to meet her to finally get the letters.”

  “Do you have them?” She wasn’t able to keep the hope out of her voice. “Your Daddy can’t see those. I don’t remember what I wrote, but I can imagine.”

  I preferred not to imagine. “She never made it. I’ve looked for them, but I’ve come up empty-handed. I have the envelopes, but that’s it. She must have hidden the actual letters.”

  I was momentarily distracted by Pepper scurrying around the RVs with a white trash bag. Why was she acting so sneaky? And why wasn’t she with Betty and Asher?

/>   Mama’s voice brought me back to our conversation. “Do I need to come out there and help you? Those letters and photos need to be destroyed.”

  “No.” The word came out harsher than I intended. I softened my tone. “Please. Stay home. No one knows Addison was blackmailing me. Not Betty. Not Grey. Not the police. I need to keep it that way. The homicide detectives have already questioned me because someone overheard Addison and me argue. I’m trying to cooperate, but keep a low profile.”

  “I can be there in just a few hours.”

  I rubbed my temple. “Mama, think about it. What are you going to tell Daddy? You were just here. Besides, you and Betty have one thing in common. Neither of you know how to fly under the radar. I got to go. Love ya.”

  Heck, I wasn’t even sure I wanted to find those letters anymore. What was that going to accomplish?

  “But you have to make me a promise,” she begged.

  “What?”

  “When you find those letters, you burn them. Don’t read them. Please.”

  If I found the letters, I promised I wouldn’t read them.

  Chapter Eighteen

  “SORRY THAT TOOK so long. Did I miss Pepper?”

  I’d just returned to Asher’s RV. From the looks of the patio table, Betty and Asher had shared coffee and pastries while I was away. My stomach growled. I hoped Betty wasn’t thinking about skipping breakfast because she’d shared a bear claw with dreamboat Asher.

  Asher carried the mugs to the sink to load the dishwasher. Betty was nowhere to be found. “Pepper never showed.”

  Really? I wondered why. I’d just seen her dumping her trash. I’d assumed she was preparing for our visit. Had she gotten caught up in cleaning and lost track of time? No way. Last night, she’d wanted to spend time with Asher on a more personal level. She liked the idea of becoming his new pet chef. So what could have happened that she blew off the opportunity to cozy up to a potential new client?