Raiders of the Lost Bark Read online

  Heck if I knew. That was the question of the hour.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  GREY HAD INSTRUCTED John to wait in the headquarters tent for the police. The three of us hurried back toward the RV so Grey could make his phone call in private.

  Betty sniffed the air. “I smell bacon.”

  “Didn’t you just eat?” I asked.

  “Sure. But I always got room for bacon.” She patted her stomach.

  As soon as we approached the kitchen, we noticed a small assembly of campers and their dogs congregating outside near the entrance. Mr. Swanson was there. He stroked his beard as he leaned in to the group and spoke. Whatever he’d said, it couldn’t have been positive—people immediately began looking in our direction, whispering with scowls on their faces.

  I slowed my stride. “I wonder what’s going on.”

  “They heard Betty was coming for the bacon.” Grey grinned.

  Betty smacked his arm.

  Detectives Finn and Lark emerged from the middle of the gathering. They were attired in their usual garb of dress pants, button-up shirts, blazers, and angry grimaces. Under my breath, I told Grey who they were.

  Grey dropped his jovial demeanor. “Keep your answers short. Don’t offer information.” His tone broached no argument.

  I nodded my understanding.

  Betty glanced at Grey in admiration. “You sure sound like Malone.”

  “Thanks,” he said, never taking his eyes off the detectives. “Betty, follow my lead. Got it?”

  “Sure thing.” She threw her shoulders back, and tightened her grip on her handbag, ready to rumble.

  Finn pushed forward and blocked our pathway, which kept us separated from the others. I took a deep breath. I could tell from the smirk on her face, it was about to get serious.

  “Well, well, well. Look who’s here.” She pushed the sides of her blazer back, flashing her gun and badge in her signature move; like a character from a bad cop show. “We’ve been looking for you.”

  “Are you here because of Hudson?” I asked.

  Lark slithered up next to his partner, looking like an unmade bed. He eyeballed me critically. “You’ve been busy. Calling our station, then the Laguna Beach police department. You’ve got some impressive friends.”

  “If you’re talking about Detective Malone, I doubt he’d call me a friend.” I wasn’t being humble, just honest. Malone considered me a pain in his backside.

  Finn eyed me. “But you have a relationship with him.”

  I felt Grey stiffen next to me.

  Betty leaned forward and batted her eyes. “Detective Hottie only has eyes for me.”

  Lark scowled back at her, unimpressed.

  “I’m not sure what you’re getting at,” I said. “I’ve been involved with a couple of his cases.” Much to his dismay. “But that’s the extent of it. We don’t have a ‘relationship.’”

  “Involved enough that you felt you could call in a favor?” he asked.

  Oh, for heaven’s sake. That was what this was all about? “So you’re annoyed with me because you’re being made to do your job?”

  Detective Lark closed the space between us. “You seem confused, Miss Langston, so let me break it down for you.” He looked cocky and confident. Like he knew something I didn’t.

  Grey suddenly stepped between me and the detective. “I don’t believe we’ve met. I’m Grey Donovan.” He didn’t extend a hand, nor did his smile reach his sharp eyes. “I understand you’ve already questioned Miss Langston. So unless you have something new to talk to her about, you won’t mind if we excuse ourselves.”

  He didn’t wait for a response. He placed a steady hand on our backs and pushed Betty and me toward the RV, past Mr. and Mrs. Swanson.

  Grey whispered, “Don’t look back.”

  That phrase could sum up the story of my life. My blood pressure shot up, knowing they could haul me down to the station for questioning at any time. We didn’t get very far when Finn’s voice cut through the hot air.

  “Hold up there, Mr. Donovan.” Her icy tone blew over us like an arctic cold front.

  We immediately froze. Grey had made her look bad in front of everyone, so now she was about to make an example of him. I almost felt bad for her. She had no idea who she was up against.

  Grey turned to face her. With measured steps, he met her halfway.

  “Who are you?” she asked Grey. Her eyes burned with frustration.

  He shrugged. “Like I already said, Grey Donovan.” His calm tone only made her look more unrestrained.

  She eyed him thoughtfully, regrouping, as if she sensed there was more to him than met the eye, but wasn’t sure what. “I don’t remember seeing you before. Are you the lawyer?”

  He looked surprised. “Does she need a lawyer?”

  I bit the inside of my lip. I was always amazed to see him in action, but why in the world was he antagonizing her? He knew I had something to hide. And provoking the police just didn’t seem like a good defense.

  Finn crossed her arms. “You tell us? Is she guilty?”

  Grey raised an eyebrow. “That’s your job to prove, not mine.”

  I couldn’t take it anymore. They were having a word play competition at my expense. The police weren’t going to look in another direction unless I pointed them there.

  I strode toward them. “No. I’m not guilty. Instead of concentrating on me, why don’t you look into Pepper Maddox? She had an ax to grind with Addison for taking over her job as head chef, which you’re already fully aware of. Add to that, Dim Sum had dirty paws at dinner that night of the murder.”

  “Dim Sum?” Finn asked, confused.

  Okay, I admit, out of context, that did sound rather odd.

  “Her dog,” Betty supplied, not about to be left out of the party.

  “So we should consider her a suspect because her dog is dirty? Have you looked around this place? It’s a dustbowl, other than this grassy area you entitled rich people had trucked in for your special event.”

  I sighed. They had a grudge against people with money? Or people with dogs? “It wasn’t dirt on her paws. It was dried blood,” I insisted. Why was I doing their job for them?

  Finn and Lark exchanged a look as they mulled over what I’d said.

  Knowing I had their attention, I continued, “I overheard your uniformed officers talking about bloody paw prints at the crime scene. There was a theory that the killer had a dog. And at dinner that night, Pepper admitted she’d seen Addison heading toward the spa, acting like she was meeting someone. Did she bother to tell you that when you questioned her?”

  Neither of them responded.

  Knowing I was on the right track, I continued. “That puts Pepper at the scene around the time of death. And it’s probable it was her dog that walked through the blood.”

  Pepper burst through the crowd in her elastic-waist pants, cotton T-shirt, and black clogs. “Liar,” she screeched. “That’s not true.”

  I shook my head. “I’m sorry Pepper, but it is. There are three other people who can corroborate what I’m saying. I think you were the one meeting Addison. She knew you were passing off pre-made food as your own cooking. That’s why Hudson wouldn’t give you your job back. I also know you had Addison’s recipes in your possession.”

  “It’s your word against mine,” she spat out.

  “Once we find Hudson, he’ll confirm everything I’m saying. Was she blackmailing you? Is that why you killed her?”

  I heard Grey groan behind me.

  Damn. I knew he had wanted me to keep my mouth shut. To not offer information. I just couldn’t help myself. When pushed into a corner, my instinct was always to come out fighting. To protect myself and those I love.

  Lark’s eyebrows wrinkled together.
“Is that true?” he asked Pepper. “You were being blackmailed by the victim?”

  “I don’t have to answer your questions unless I’m under arrest.” She clamped her lips together.

  Once again, Lark and Finn exchanged a look I couldn’t decipher. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Red and Sunday peak out from the kitchen entrance. Red was wearing his chef uniform, and Sunday was finally in something practical—skinny jeans, crop top, and Burberry rain boots.

  Lark stepped forward in Pepper’s direction. I swear he was about to drag her into town for questioning or arrest her, when Ranger Elliott came racing toward us, his arms waving above his head.

  Betty snickered. “Look out, Dudley Do-Right lost his horse.”

  I choked back my laughter. Dudley’s, I mean, Ranger Elliott’s, face was deathly white.

  “Detectives,” he yelled. “I found Hudson Jones. He’s dead.”

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  A LARGE GASP rolled through the group. My head was spinning. I closed my eyes for a second, taking in what he’d just said. Hudson was dead. I shivered, despite the sunlight that engulfed us.

  Finn and Lark closed in around Ranger Elliott as he caught his breath. His green uniform was covered with dirt, making his pants look more dingy than normal. Campers shouted questions over each other. What happened? Was it an accident? Was he murdered? Where did you find him?

  Sunday and Red left their hiding place at the kitchen entrance, joining the group, but staying on the fringe. I wondered why they were so reluctant to get closer. Better yet, why were they together in the first place? Was Sunday trying to get him to come back as her client?

  Lark yelled for everyone to be quiet so he could hear, setting off the group of pooches for a quick outburst of barking. Once the owners managed to quiet their canines, an expectant silence settled over the crowd. Ranger Elliott’s voice quavered as he explained he’d just found Hudson’s body at the bottom of a cliff on a trail not designated for us, and, judging by the condition of the body, he’d been there since last night.

  “Suddenly, you’re a medical examiner?” Lark rubbed his neck. “So we’re to believe he was just lying dead on the trail, and no one saw him until this morning?”

  Ranger Elliott adjusted his hat nervously, then scrubbed his jaw with his hand, leaving behind a large smear of dirt. “First of all, that area was off limits to the guests with dogs. Second, I didn’t find him on the trail.” He searched the anxious faces surrounding him. We were hanging on his every word. He cleared his throat. “He was, uh . . . moved.”

  Lark sighed like the weight of world rested on his next question. “Moved how?”

  “Judging by the tracks, I believe by a mountain lion. Hud was missing part of his leg.”

  “It’s time to go.” Betty tried to push past Grey. “Unplug the water hoses and electrical cords, Cookie, we gotta get outta here. I don’t do mountain lions.”

  Grey grabbed Betty and pulled her next to him, keeping her from leaving. “Hang on.”

  Betty wasn’t the only one freaking out. Chaos ensued and the group began to break up; panicked voices shot out, setting off the dogs again. People began to scatter to the safety of their campsites.

  “No one is going anywhere,” Lark shouted. He cupped his hands around his mouth. “Everyone stay where you are.”

  Finn immediately got on her two-way radio and called for backup. Fear remained on most faces as Lark tried to create order from the pandemonium. It took a few minutes, but one by one, everyone started to calm down.

  Betty turned toward me, realization in her eyes. “That’s why Sunday’s face was fatter than the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man. We should have known a mountain lion was close by.”

  I’m not sure how we should have known anything, but it did explain her allergic reaction. All three of us looked in Sunday’s direction. She’d drifted back to the kitchen threshold where she covertly watched Detectives Lark and Finn. I wondered how close the big cat had to have been for Sunday to have had a noticeable reaction.

  “It’s too much of a coincidence for Hudson’s death to be an accident,” I said softly. “He knew something about Addison.”

  “I agree.” Grey matched my tone. “We need to let this play out and see what happens. Let them do their job.”

  They were no Detective Judd Malone. I didn’t share Grey’s confidence in the two detectives’ abilities to get to the bottom of the situation any time soon. I started working through what I knew. Everyone seemed to like Hudson. From what he’d said, Addison had confided Pepper’s secrets to him. Was it possible she’d confided other secrets too? I was unclear who’d seen Hudson last. Red? Or Sunday and Ranger Elliott? If Hudson had been found on the restricted trail, had someone lured him there or had he been followed?

  Pepper had managed to tuck herself away in the far end of the area, between Mr. Swanson and a large planter. I wondered if she was looking to make a break for it, or hiding from the cops. I glanced over my shoulder at Sunday, who continued to watch the detectives. What if Hudson and Sunday had had words about Addison when he’d dropped off Sunday’s luggage?

  Red caught me looking in his direction. I was surprised at the skepticism fixed on his face. Was that directed at me or the police? Lips set in a grim line, he disappeared inside the kitchen. I assumed to finish preparing lunch.

  I looked up at Grey. “On the positive side, I can’t be a suspect in this death.”

  “Let’s hope not.” His tentative smile was not reassuring.

  Lark and Finn stepped away to talk discreetly, occasionally looking over at all of us, concentrating on me and Pepper. What I wouldn’t give to hear what they were saying. I wondered if they’d take over the headquarters tent again. Speaking of headquarters . . .

  I grabbed Grey’s arm. “We’ve got to tell them about John. He’s probably scared to death, waiting at Hudson’s desk for an update.”

  “I’ll do it.” He lobbed a firm look at Betty and me. “Stay here.”

  I wasn’t sure where he thought we’d run off to with official babysitters who wore badges instead of braces monitoring us, but we agreed not to leave.

  Grey’s confident walk garnered everyone’s attention as he approached Lark. All eyes were on the two men. Judging by the unyielding look on Lark’s face, he wasn’t very receptive.

  As I watched from a distance, conversations flowed around me. I picked up bits and pieces. Most people were curious about what the new person was talking to the police about. A handful of others, including the Thompsons, were afraid, convinced they should have left after the first death. I was beginning to share their viewpoint. Sunday was lying low in the background, watching the activity unfold.

  “I wonder when that handsome TV reporter is gonna show up? He better get here quick. He’s got the scoop on a man-eating mountain lion. It could be bigger than that Sharknado movie.”

  “Oh, my gosh. Stop already,” I said.

  “But he’s missing out on all the craziness.” Betty looked toward MacAvoy’s RV.

  She had a point. Any other time there was a juicy story unfolding, MacAvoy was smack in the middle of it. Where was he?

  Suddenly, Veronica appeared from the direction of the spa, her round face white with alarm.

  “Did you hear?” she cried. “The park ranger found Hudson’s body. It’s just awful.” She threw her arms around Betty and hugged her tightly.

  “I can’t breathe,” Betty mumbled into Veronica’s shoulder, Betty’s handbag caught between them.

  “Oh, I’m sorry.”

  Betty brushed herself off, her purse swinging from the crook of her arm. “We were here when the news broke. Where have you been?”

  “Harry had an appointment at the spa.” Veronica fanned herself. “It’s all over camp about Hudson. I’m just a bundle of nerves. I think I’m going back
to Dana Point today. This is too stressful. I’d rather face a jewelry thief than a murder.”

  I jerked to attention, turning my back to Grey and the detectives. Pieces of various conversations fell into place, for the first time creating a very clear picture. “What did you say?”

  Veronica’s eyes-widened. “I said, I’m going home?”

  I waved my hand in front me, dismissing her answer. “No, no. After that. You live in Dana Point?”

  She nodded, confused as to what I was getting at. “Yes.”

  Judging by the wariness on Veronica’s face, I was making her uncomfortable. I made myself slow down and soften my expression. “The other day, you said someone broke into your house and stole a butterfly bracelet last month.”

  “That’s right. It was frightening, but not as scary as someone killing innocent people.”

  My adrenaline kicked up. I was about to crack the jewel thief case. “By any chance, was it a white gold bangle with a butterfly made from diamonds?”

  She gasped. “Yes, it was. How did you know?”

  Betty rubbed her hands together. “We’ve seen it,” she exclaimed at the top of her voice.

  Everyone looked in our direction. Including Sunday and Pepper.

  “Shhh.” I held my finger against my lips.

  Betty didn’t look one bit contrite at my reprimand. “We know where it is, don’t we, Cookie?”

  Yes, we did. I was ninety-nine percent certain Veronica’s bracelet was in Addison’s box of belongings. Now I understood why Grey had wanted Betty to stay away from Asher. Grey must have recognized Asher in that blurry photo.

  It was all starting to make sense. Knowing what I did about Addison, I believed she had found out Asher’s secret life as a jewel thief and had been blackmailing him. I bet she’d taken the cufflinks as insurance. In the meantime, he was starting subtle rumors around camp that she was the thief. I’d wager a year’s salary Asher was the one who’d tossed her tent, looking for the missing jewelry. Unfortunately, I didn’t have proof of any of it.