He shook his head. “Nah. We’re required to take breaks.”
After we said goodbye, I continued to reassure myself. Josh said he’d be fine.
Still, a change of scenery would clear my mind. A peaceful ocean setting sounded lovely, and I looked forward to Indira’s purse party.
* * *
• • •
Indira lived in a proper beach house, a few blocks away from The Strand, a paved pathway that allowed beachgoers to bike or stroll on smooth concrete near the calming backdrop of the glistening ocean to the west. Indira’s house, like a lot of homes near the beach, had a faded exterior. No doubt the constant sea breeze had scraped off the original layer of paint. What might once have been a cheerful turquoise had now been scrubbed away to a soft seafoam hue.
With space at a premium, the house didn’t sprawl. Instead, it launched up in height to make the most of its lot size.
When I walked inside the house, I found Indira’s lady friends gathered in the living room. I’d expected them to flaunt their wealth with some rich accessories. Maybe a pop of color from a vibrant Hermès scarf or a luxe pair of Prada shoes. Instead, they sat cross-legged on the patterned Persian rug or perched on the microsuede sofa in their swimwear: bikinis, swimdresses, tankinis, and more.
I’d opted to change out of my usual grungy work wear into a silk blouse and knee-length skirt for this special occasion. For a second, I wondered if I’d written down the wrong address. She hadn’t said anything about swimming during the doggie playdate.
I had to be at the right house, though, because dogs of all shapes and sizes crowded the room. Restrained on leashes by their owners, they barked at Marshmallow’s presence. He examined his paw, making his claws unsheathe. The dogs settled down a bit.
I spotted Indira coming into the room from a side hallway. She carried Ash on a tasseled pillow like a pampered princess. “Here’s the star of the show. Think of how buying one purse—or five, for that matter—would make her life better.”
The ladies all made clucking noises at the puppy and shook their heads. I heard murmured variations of “Poor Ash.”
Indira wove her way around the large crowd. I peered at the numerous sympathetic faces around me, seeing if I recognized anyone. Not a single soul. Maybe they represented all the folks she knew outside of the doga class. In case they needed a groomer, I left a stack of business cards on the side table near the sofa.
Indira herself moved toward the couch, and some women vacated their seats to make room for Ash. After placing her dog down with care, Indira said, “I’ll be right back with the merchandise.”
Ash noticed the tense dog-cat situation, nodded her head at Marshmallow, and yipped. A few dogs whimpered, and Marshmallow retracted his claws. He informed me that Ash had vouched for him and even called him a special guest of the party. Marshmallow started preening before the dogs.
Indira returned and rolled a massive suitcase to the middle of the room. When she opened it, a collective gasp of awe rang out as the women saw a mountain of fanny packs inside.
“All new designs,” Indira said with a bright smile.
She did brisk business. The ladies clucked their tongues at Ash and gave Indira sympathetic looks. Then they opened up their wallets.
A woman in a leopard-print bikini, though, held up the line. She pouted while holding her little terrier near the open suitcase. “Do I have to buy one?” she said. “My friend who told me about this said purchases were optional.”
“Of course. No pressure.” Indira tossed her head of gleaming raven locks. “But using my pool is considered an add-on.”
The lady gestured to her bikini. “I bought this swimsuit just for today.”
Indira pressed her full lips together. “This is a purse party, not a pool party. At least, not without the required price of admission.” She plucked a horrid neon striped bag from the suitcase and held it in front of the woman’s face. “This would go well with your skin tone.”
Leopard-print lady choked and snatched up a neutral-colored fanny pack. “This one might work well as an all-purpose bag.”
Indira flashed her a smile. “Lovely choice.”
The woman pointed to the rear of the house. “And when exactly will the pool man be finished cleaning?”
“Shortly,” Indira said. I wondered if she’d asked him to linger so she could make sure no one could access the pool without purchasing something first.
I walked over to the back of the house and peeked through the half-open French doors. Even with his back to me, the pool man looked familiar. He netted the pool, pulling out debris with smooth strokes. A wide-brimmed straw hat covered his face.
I’d seen that hat before, not so long ago. When the man walked around the curve of the pool, I could see his profile. I gasped. “Kevin Walker?” What were the chances?
A lilting voice spoke up from behind me. “Oh, he used to clean my pool, too. Everyone around here uses him.”
Kevin Walker was Indira’s pool boy, the one she’d mentioned after yoga class. No wonder she’d already heard about Russ Nolan’s demise back then.
The woman continued, “He offers dirt-cheap prices.”
I turned around to find the speaker wearing an off-the-shoulder swimsuit. She said, “Kevin’s usually reliable. Except”—she frowned—“I heard through the grapevine that he bailed on a job recently. Haven’t used him since I heard that.”
“A shame,” I said. “Why did he need to leave the job?”
“An emergency.”
I narrowed my eyes. “When was this exactly?”
Her forehead scrunched. “Maybe a week or two ago. Why?”
“Just curious.” Could it have been the same night Russ Nolan had been murdered? With his pool-cleaning muscles, Kevin Walker surely had the strength to knock down the breeder. Could the landlord have taken out his own tenant? Maybe over a disagreement about the rental?
Marshmallow brushed up against my leg. “I’ll get more info from the dogs,” he said. “Chat with some of the pool-loving pups here.” Yikes. Not only was I partnering with my pet cat, but we were starting to get on the same wavelength.
I nodded before turning to watch Kevin through the French doors. As he continued fishing stuff out of the pool, I realized the pole itself could be a deadly object—maybe even the actual murder weapon. Kevin did wield it with both familiarity and force.
The musical chime of the doorbell sounded, shattering my focus. No one made a move to get it. The guests continued to sit around chatting, while Indira occupied herself with one last customer.
She saw me watching and jerked her head toward the door. As I passed her, Indira whispered a quick thanks.
I opened the door to find Lauren standing outside.
She gave a happy squeal of surprise. “You’re at the purse party?”
“Indira thought I could ask a few of my grooming clients over . . . but, uh, they were all busy.”
I checked out Lauren’s outfit. She wore a belted shirtdress with a familiar-looking diamond necklace. “You’re not going swimming dressed like that, are you?”
She shook her head. “No. Too much to do. But I heard about this party through a friend of a friend and wanted to drop off a contribution.”
I took the sealed envelope she held out to me. “I’ll be sure to give it to Indira.”
“Tell her it’s not a donation. She despises charity. Indira can use the money to cover the cost of several bags and give them away in a special raffle.”
Lauren turned to go, but I touched her on the arm. “One more thing. I couldn’t help but notice your lovely necklace.”
She touched the glittering strands.
“In fact, I think I saw one just like it recently. Where did you buy it?”
“Oh, Mimi, you must be mistaken. This necklace is one of a kind. Most of my jewe
lry is custom-made.”
Interesting, because I could’ve sworn Nicola had worn that very same necklace to my store when I’d expressed Sterling’s glands. “Hmm. Has it ever gone missing?”
Lauren’s eyes grew wide. “Of course not. But then again, I do have such a large collection to keep track of. Anyway, I better get going, or I’ll be late to my next appointment.”
While I said goodbye to Lauren, I heard a collective cheer rise from inside the house. I went back and discovered the women slathering on sunscreen. The tropical scent of coconut filled the room. From all the chatter, I picked out a few excited comments:
“Yes, he’s finally done.”
“Pool party is on!”
“I call dibs on the cabana.”
As the women and their dogs all filed out to the pool, I located Indira and handed her the envelope. I explained Lauren’s quick drop-off and her idea for a purse raffle.
Indira thanked me and then hurried outdoors. From the pool area, I could already hear the overexcited barking and heavy splashing of multiple dogs.
Marshmallow crept to my side and purred. “Guess what I found out?”
“Hopefully, a lot.”
“Yes. Rich pooches love to gossip. They told me Kevin Walker bailed out to check on his rental property the same night Russ Nolan was murdered.”
“That can’t be a coincidence,” I said.
Marshmallow swished his tail. “I think not. Kevin Walker acted ‘stark raving mad’ when he left the pool owner’s home.”
Aha. Had the man been angry enough to commit murder?
I heard the slamming of a door from outside. A car’s engine rattled and caught.
“We need to go,” I said. We ran out of Indira’s house and chased after Kevin Walker.
CHAPTER
seventeen
BY THE TIME Marshmallow and I rushed after Kevin Walker, he’d already gotten his pickup truck rumbling. Marshmallow and I jumped into my car, but my hands paused against the ten and two of my steering wheel.
Would I be driving straight into danger? I could almost sense Josh’s concern from afar. But if I lost Kevin Walker’s trail, I might miss a key breakthrough.
Detective Brown’s stern and unbelieving face flashed through my mind. Since I didn’t want to go to prison, I ignored my reservations and let my reckless side kick in.
Thank goodness Kevin Walker’s clunker of a car took its sweet time moving down the road. We managed to follow him down several residential streets in my stealthier Prius.
After a few more turns, he parked in the driveway of another massive, spindly house. The new house, though, looked half-hidden by the thick green bulk of tall cypress trees. I wondered if the people who lived there planted them on purpose to provide shelter from prying eyes.
Deciding to block him in, I parked my Prius right behind Kevin’s truck. This way he couldn’t escape my questioning.
Kevin came out of his truck and slammed the door. Even through my rolled-up window, I could hear him fuming. “Why are you following—Hey, I know you. Aren’t you that renter?”
I exited my car and took Marshmallow out. How could I explain myself?
Kevin pointed at Marshmallow. “It is you. I’d recognize that cat anywhere.”
Marshmallow licked his fur. “What can I say? I’m unforgettably handsome.”
Kevin glared at me. “I don’t know why you’re stalking me. Must I call the police again?”
The hair on the back of my neck prickled. “Again? So you were the one who told Detective Brown about my visit to the house. Why?”
“You asked too many questions, seemed too interested in the previous renter. The cop told me to let him know if anyone suspicious showed up.”
I squared my shoulders and took a few steps closer to him. He backed against the side of his truck. “And what about you?” I said. “Heard you bailed on a client the same day Russ Nolan ended up dead.”
“Are you implying that I killed him?” Kevin straightened up and moved to the rear of his truck. “I don’t need to answer any of your questions, and I have work to do right now.”
Marshmallow sped past me and leaped into the bed of the truck. “Don’t worry, I know how to handle this.” He sat smack on the pool net and trapped his paws inside the mesh.
I smirked at Kevin. “I’ll call my cat off your equipment after you speak with me. I really don’t want to bother you, but I need to know what happened that day.”
Kevin looked back and forth between Marshmallow and me. He threw his hands up in the air. “Fine. I have a few minutes to spare. And nothing to hide. Ask away.”
I pulled myself to my full petite height and held his gaze. “Were you at the house that day?”
He took off his straw hat and fiddled with it. “I was. While cleaning one of my client’s pools, I heard the ladies gossiping about how Russ Nolan sold cute little dogs out of his house.”
“That’s when you rushed over to the house.”
He stuffed his hat back on his head. “Running a business out of my mother’s house was never in the rental agreement. And he’d been doing it under my nose.”
“I get it. You were understandably upset.”
He turned and kicked at one of the truck’s tires. “When I first went over, I was hopping mad. Wanted to toss him out on the street. But then he apologized nicely to me.”
“You just let it go?”
“I’m a businessman,” Kevin said, giving me a lopsided smile. “Russ used his finances to smooth things over with me.”
Moola. I wondered how much it had taken to smooth over the situation. The destruction of keeping a houseful—or, rather, a roomful—of dogs would cost a pretty penny. Way more than the typical security deposit would cover, I bet.
Kevin Walker did seem like a man who could be swayed by money. And even without the extra bribe, I realized it didn’t make sense for him to get rid of solid rental income.
I wrinkled my nose. “What time were you at the house?”
He turned his head to the sky, seeming to stare at the pointed tops of the cypress trees. “Night had just set in. I remember turning on my headlights as I neared the house.”
That would be shortly after I left the premises, when I’d seen Russ Nolan’s house bleached an ominous white. “And when did you leave?”
His eyes flicked toward Marshmallow, who continued to stand his ground. In fact, my cat had his claws out and was toying with the mesh. “I spent ten minutes there, tops. Returned to my client as soon as possible to patch things up. Besides, Russ himself wanted me out fast.”
I exchanged a look with Marshmallow. “Why’s that?”
“The man was expecting a lady friend.” Kevin gave me an exaggerated wink. “He said he’d even bought some wine for the occasion.”
My mind flashed back to the discarded glass bottle I’d spotted in the trash the other day. Kevin’s claim might explain why Detective Brown had dismissed my theory of a man as the killer. The cop had been focused on catching a female murderer instead.
“That’s all I have to say.” Kevin crossed his arms against his chest.
Of course, he could be feeding me lies to get me off his case. But I didn’t have anything else to ask him.
I beckoned to Marshmallow. “Come along now.”
Marshmallow took his time to get up and disentangle himself from the pool net. Then he shook his body with vigor.
We left Kevin shaking his head at all the white fur deposited over his pool equipment.
I took Kevin’s story with a grain of salt. If I could get some sort of clear evidence that he’d gone back to work, I would trust his claim more.
Of course, I did have a friend who could steer me true. Pixie St. James, the wonder-ruffic sponsor of Hollywoof, had connections to all the ritzy pool owners in the beach areas and beyond.
* * *
• • •
Pixie agreed to my spur-of-the-moment visit. As I drove up the winding roads to Hollywood Hills, Marshmallow spoke up from the back seat. “You’re lucky I don’t get carsick.”
I rolled down my window to let the wind rush in. “Want me to drive faster so you can really feel the breeze?”
In the rearview mirror, I noticed Marshmallow closing his eyes. “Just because I can handle winding roads doesn’t mean I enjoy seeing objects whiz by me.”
I slowed down the Prius. Even if I wanted to, I probably couldn’t zip up the steep, curvy incline with my little car. Besides, I liked taking in the grand scenery at an unrushed pace. If I squinted into the distance, I could even make out the iconic white “HOLLYWOOD” sign.
As I approached a higher altitude, I remembered why people paid big bucks to live at the top. Even the monotone color of the parched shrubs surrounding the road gleamed with wealth. Instead of looking dry, they made the hillside shine a brilliant gold. And I couldn’t begin to fathom the ethereal beauty of the city lights from this vantage at night.
All of the elegant houses were barnacled to the hilltop as though by sheer willpower. Spaced tasteful distances apart, they echoed modern geometric art installations. Many displayed cool rectangular edges, but I spied a pyramid structure as well.
Pixie’s own oval-shaped house shone like a gem in the sunlight, polished to perfection by multiple renovations, including sparkling floor-to-ceiling glass windows to show off the view.
Pixie had grown up “privileged,” as she called it. Her great-great-grandfather had passed down the family business to her. Now she took the lead as CEO of his company and had even expanded its reach across international borders. An advocate of flexible hours for all her employees, she often telecommuted.
Upon hearing my knock, Pixie flung the door open and embraced me. I caught her signature scent: a custom blend of cinnamon and cloves.
She released me from her hug and asked, “Who’s this handsome fella?”
Mimi Lee Gets a Clue Page 13
