Barking with the Stars Page 16

  “Where do you work?”

  “I work for FinZone. They’re a financial services company.”

  “Oh.” I hadn’t heard of them. “What do you do?”

  “I’m an application developer. I do the internal apps.”

  I still wasn’t absolutely sure what that meant, but it had answered my unasked question. Did Lew have the skills to hack the security cameras?

  My vote was yes.

  “I appreciate you educating me about the world of collectibles, Lew.” I stood to leave. Again, I noticed he tucked his hands under his legs so I didn’t offer a handshake. I laid one of my cards on the table. “If you think of anything else or run across any info on our missing auction items, please call me. After you call the police, of course.”

  “Okay.” He looked at the card but didn’t pick it up. “PAWS? Animal wellness, like a pet therapist?”

  I nodded.

  “Like a shrink for dogs?” He snickered.

  “That’s right.” I was used to the reaction, but found it a little ironic that a guy who collected things like purple vinyl and bobbleheads found it amusing that my job was helping people with their pets.

  “If I hear anything from the police about your missing record, I’ll let you know.” I turned to go.

  “That’d be great.” He was still staring at my business card. “For sure, that’d be great.”

  It was almost time for my meeting with Rufus, so I stopped by the ladies’ room. I’d just opened the door of a stall and started to step out when a gaggle of Purple fans entered. All in white wigs, they were in the way of my opening the door so I waited for them to pass.

  “Marsha, you aren’t the only one that’s grieving,” one girl said.

  “That’s right,” another piped up. “I haven’t been able to eat for days. I don’t know what we’re going to do without her.”

  Marsha? As in the Marsha Reilley who the fan club presidents had said was looking for me?

  I paused, struck as I had been before with how they talked as if they really knew Purple. And, I was torn between thinking they should be living “real” lives of their own and fascination with the phenomena.

  They felt sad. In some alternate reality, they each believed they’d had some sort of relationship with the singer. They grieved as if they truly knew her. In psychology circles, we sometimes call that alief. Someone acts as if something they know isn’t really true, is true. They know they aren’t friends with Purple, may have not even met her in person, probably only saw her on stage. But still believed their lives would be altered because she was gone.

  Was it harmful? Who knows. Maybe it was just innocent fantasy, like cosplay where people dress up like a character from a book or movie. But, if it produced a problem in real life, or a real murder investigation, maybe not so innocent.

  I opened the door and stepped out. “Hello.” I squeezed between them to get to the sink. “Purple fans, I see.”

  Five blond wigs with purple streaks nodded, suddenly quiet.

  I washed my hands and then reached through the crowd to get a paper towel. “Y’all look very nice.”

  “Are you the pet therapist?” I couldn’t see who had asked.

  “Yes, I am.” I dried my hands and tossed the paper into the trash.

  “I need to talk to you.” The tallest of the group stepped forward.

  “Are you Marsha?” I asked. “I’d been told you were looking for me.”

  “Yes.” She didn’t elaborate.

  “I’m afraid I’m on my way to a meeting, but I could meet you afterward.” I glanced at my watch. “Say in an hour.”

  “Oh, thank you.” The tall one threw back her shoulders and swept the long magenta scarf she wore around her neck. “I’ll meet you in the lobby by the front desk.”

  When I left the ladies’ room, the chatter started back up. I didn’t stick around to hear what they had to say, but I was certainly curious about why the Purple Poser, who I assumed was Marsha Reilley, wanted to talk to me.

  Rufus McGrill waited by the staircase where just days ago Paul, the police spokesperson, had held the press conference announcing Purple’s death. So little progress in the investigation since then had to be frustrating for Malone and his crew. The negative publicity and onslaught of fans had to be annoying for the hotel management and their staff. But all of that together must also have been a whole other level of craziness for Rufus. He had his ever-present tablet computer in hand and looked up as I approached.

  “Hi, Caro.” He glanced back down. “Let me just finish this email.”

  “No problem.” I waited until he was done. “Pretty crazy, huh?”

  “Unbelievable,” he agreed. “Are you ready?”

  I nodded.

  He took me through a staff entrance and into the back hallways to the auditorium where the event would take place. We stood looking at the stage which was big and empty.

  “Just a few more days.” I patted his arm. “You’ve put forth a heroic effort keeping this all from imploding.”

  “I’ve tried.” He tucked the tablet under his arm. “The veterans are the real heroes and I just kept reminding myself that’s why we’re all doing this.”

  “That’s right.” I’d had that same talk with myself the past few days.

  “Okay, the celebrities will be in their dressing rooms.” He walked down the aisle and to the backstage area. “And enter the stage here.” He pointed to some stairs.

  “They all have their assigned rooms?” Even as I said it, I knew Rufus wouldn’t have missed a detail like room assignments.

  “They do.” He didn’t seem offended by my question. “They’ll have their dogs with them. You should check with each of them once they’re here.” He stopped for a moment. “Except for KK and Scamp, Heidi and . . .”

  “Carson,” I finished for him. Those were the other two clients who, in addition to Purple, had fired me and signed on with Geoffrey. Geoff was such a smooth operator they probably thought I’d recommended him.

  “I’ve got a list of all of the celebs, their dogs, what time they go on stage, and if I could just get room assignments from you, I’ll add that and I should be set.”

  “Perfect.” Rufus made a note. “I’ll get that to you later today.”

  “Thanks.” I loved that like me he had a list. His was electronic and mine was a notebook, but still we were kindred spirits on the list-maker front.

  “The veterans and their therapy dogs will arrive just before they go on.” He walked across the back where all the cords and pulleys were for the backdrops and curtains. “We thought the less waiting they have, the better. And the venue doesn’t have a lot of waiting space.”

  “Probably a good idea.” I stepped over a rope as thick as my wrist. “Have they been here?”

  “We did a couple of run-throughs with them yesterday,” he replied. “Why? Are you worried they won’t know what to do?”

  “Not the veterans,” I clarified. “The dogs. Although they’ve been here before, it will look and smell differently with all the people and their pets in here.”

  “Dress rehearsal should take care of that though, right?”

  “I think so.” I walked around the area. “Let’s just have a Plan B.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like if one of the dogs gets unruly or hard to handle, the dog’s human knows what to do. Maybe he or she should simply take the dog out of the environment.”

  “Okay, great.” Rufus added another note to himself. “I’ll make sure that instruction is given during dress rehearsal.”

  “I’m sure you and Sunny have thought of this,” I added, “but probably the same goes for the veterans. If the chaos or the noise or anything about the situation becomes too much for them, they should also just take a b
reak. Go outside. There should be no pressure to handle more than they are able to.”

  “You give us too much credit.” Rufus pushed aside some electrical cords so he could walk through. “Neither Sunny nor I had thought about the strain their appearance might be on the veterans. Jonathan Trimble, who you met, is organizing that part of the schedule. I’ll make sure he knows to communicate your Plan B to the veterans who are participating.”

  “Super.” I felt good about the prep. There was no reason to think things wouldn’t go very smoothly. “Seven o’clock tomorrow night for rehearsal?”

  “The celebs were told seven,” Rufus confirmed. “If you wouldn’t mind getting here around six thirty or so, that would help.”

  “No problem.” I followed him down the stairs and out to the staff hallway. “I can do that.”

  Rufus talked through a few more details, promised to get me the room assignment list, and then was off to take care of other last-minute details.

  “It’s almost over,” I told myself, then added Rufus’s reminder. “It’s for a very good cause.”

  Back in the lobby I glanced around but didn’t see Marsha, so I grabbed a latte, and parked myself in one of the chairs where I could see people coming and going. I pulled out my phone and checked email. Rufus had already sent me the list with room assignments for the celebrities appearing at Barking with the Stars. The man was amazing.

  I also had an email from Sam with his itinerary. He was arriving tomorrow and would be on hand as promised. Unfortunately, I’d be tied up with the final things I needed to do to get ready for the big event. I emailed a reply, letting him know if he called and I didn’t answer it was probably that I was in the middle of calming a diva or a dog.

  I had a lot to fill him in on, and we had a lot to talk about. Could it wait until after this weekend’s affair? Probably not.

  I also had a text from Diana. She’d discovered some phone app where she could switch her face with her dog’s face. Diana’s face on Mr. Wiggles’s body was funny, but Mr. Wiggles’s face on Diana Knight’s body was hilarious.

  I snorted coffee and nearly dropped my phone.

  “Ms. Lamont?” An attractive dark-haired girl slipped into the chair beside me. Her lush brown curls framed a heart-shaped face. Dark eyes that reminded me of Sam, were beautiful but her expression was bleak.

  “Yes?” I fought for composure after that text from Diana.

  “I’m Marsha Reilley.” She held out her hand in introduction.

  It took me a second or two to respond. I’d been expecting the Purple Poser I’d spoken with earlier.

  Recovering from the surprise, I shook her hand, noting the dark-magenta polish. “Pardon me for being taken aback.” I tried not to stare. “But, girl, you look nothing like the person I just saw in the ladies’ room.”

  That garnered an almost smile. “I suppose not.”

  I tucked my phone away and gave her my attention. “What did you want to talk to me about?”

  “I had wanted to get in touch with you because my dog, Peri, has been having some problems lately, and I know you worked with Purple and Lavender.” The words came out in a rush.

  “Peri, short for Periwinkle?” I asked.

  She nodded. “That’s right.”

  “What seems to be the problem?” I asked.

  “I don’t have a lot after this trip,” she interrupted, “but I can pay for your services. Do you want to see Peri?”

  “Probably, yes.” I couldn’t stop staring. The girl was beautiful for one thing, but the biggest difference was her demeanor. In the ladies’ room and when I’d seen her in the hotel as a part of the group of Posers, she was tall and bold and walked with confidence. This girl hunched into herself and spoke with hesitation. Probably if she’d asked Cindy and Yuki for my contact information as herself, they would have provided it.

  “Can you tell me what has you worried about Peri?” I asked. “He’s a Lhasa Apso like Lavender?”

  “That’s right. He’s doing things he’s never done before. He’s a good dog.” Her dark eyes pleaded with me to understand. “But he chewed up the bath mat. I’m going to pay to replace it,” she was quick to assure me.

  “Anything else?” Chewing wasn’t unusual behavior for a dog away from home, but it sounded like she’d traveled with him before and not had any issues.

  “Well, there’s also the accidents.” She dropped her head down. “And some aggressive behavior toward housekeeping staff.”

  “He’s not done these things before?”

  She shook her head.

  “And you’ve traveled with him before, I assume.” I wanted to be sure.

  Her head bobbed in agreement. “Lots of times.”

  “Is there any pattern to the behavior?”

  “I’m not sure what you mean.” She tipped her head like Dogbert does when he’s not sure of what I’m trying to communicate.

  “When do these things mostly happen?” I clarified my questions. “Is it a particular time of day? Is it when he’s around certain people? Or smells? In other words, can you think of any triggers?”

  “Not really.” She twisted the hem of her blouse. “What’s odd is that it never happens when I’m there with him. He’s just a sweetie, perfect as anything.”

  Ah-ha. Sometimes the clue isn’t what’s there but what’s not there.

  “Marsha, I’m happy to meet with you and Peri, together if you’d like,” I offered, “but let me just share what I’m initially thinking.”

  “I can pay you,” she broke in. “Maybe I could do installments or something.”

  “Let’s not worry about that right now.” I touched her hand which still clutched the fabric of her blouse. “My initial consultation with you and Peri would be free.”

  “Oh, that would be great.” The girl dropped the hem she’d almost twisted beyond any hope of it being able to return to its original state and looked up at me.

  “The thing is that you’re grieving for Purple.” I held her gaze. “Peri senses your feelings, and that can create some instability. He wants to be with you. To comfort you, and when he’s left alone, he gets anxious and acts out.”

  “Hmmm . . .”

  I could see the wheels turning. Hopefully it was making sense to her.

  “Is there a way you can have him with you more? Or spend more time with him?”

  “We haven’t been cuddling at night like we always have,” she mused. “I kind of thought he was just going through a phase.”

  “Is brushing time a good experience for him?” I asked. Lhasa Apso dogs need a lot of brushing. A lot of brushing.

  “Yes, he loves it. We make a big production of it, and it’s sort of bonding time.”

  “Maybe some extra brushing time would help,” I suggested. “Some extra cuddle time.”

  “You really think that’s what is causing him to do these things?” Her brow furrowed.

  Her questioning of what I’d said was typical. People can never believe it’s that easy.

  “I do.” I reached in my bag and handed her one of my cards. “Why don’t you try it and let me know? I’ll be around tomorrow and I can always meet with you and Peri then.”

  “Thank you so much for talking with me.” She tucked the card in the pocket of her jeans.

  “It will be busy tomorrow, so I may not answer right away, but I’ll call you back if you leave a message.” Hopefully my ideas were on target and would work, but if not, I had some other ideas. “Tomorrow will be crazy.”

  “The next two days will be bonkers,” she muttered under her breath.

  That was a fact I knew to be true.

  “Before you go, I have a quick question for you.”

  “Okay.”

  “How many of you are there that dress up like P
urple?”

  “You mean here at the hotel?”

  “Yes, I guess that’s what I’m asking.”

  “There are twelve still here. Two had to leave. They said that they had to get back to work but I think they were kind of spooked by the whole murder thing.”

  “Who wouldn’t be, right?” I waited for her reaction.

  She nodded.

  “So there are twelve of you now?”

  “That’s right. I think so anyway.” She thought for a moment. “It’s always kind of a fluctuating number as more could arrive at any time, and we’re pretty protective of our real identities so I’m not sure anyone really knows.”

  “But you had to give your real names to the police, didn’t you?” I couldn’t imagine Malone and company going for anything less.

  “We did.”

  “The night before Purple was killed I saw an entourage walk through the lobby.” I wished I’d paid better attention at the time. “I thought it was Purple, but now I’m thinking it might have been you.”

  “It could have been.” Her eyes slid away from mine. “A bunch of us went out.”

  “You play the role very well,” I complimented her. It was true, when she was in costume she nailed the role.

  “Thank you.” She smiled for the first time.

  “What will you do now? Will you continue to . . . uhm . . . play the role now that the real Purple is gone?” I’d almost said, “continue to be a Poser” but caught myself in time.

  “I’m not sure.” She slumped. “There was one thing I didn’t mention to the police officer I talked to. He seemed sort of condescending about the role play and so I don’t think he would have been interested. Part of the fun of dressing up like Purple was that sometimes, especially when there were big groups, she mixed with all of us who did the role play. So, there was the off chance, as you were hanging out and playing the role, that maybe one of the others was actually her. She got a kick out of the dress-up and sometimes if there was a particularly good double or she liked something about your outfit, she might offer a personal item.”