Both of Dog's parents were deceased, and he had no siblings. John was his only child. And while Dog was not currently married, he had been—four times.
"Wow, he's giving Mrs. Rosenblatt a run for her money," Dana noted, pointing to the several paragraphs listed under the Relationships section of his bio.
"That's a lot of exes," I agreed.
"Isn't it always the wife whodunit?" Dana said, getting that gleeful PI look in her eyes again. "And aren't ex-wives even more dangerous?"
"I suppose it all depends on how amicable the divorce was."
"Or divorces. Plural," Dana said as I read on.
Dog had married his first wife, Laura Delmoore, shortly after he'd moved to the US, when they'd both still been teenagers. And it appeared his son, John, had been born shortly afterward. No other children were listed, even though Dog and Laura had stayed together for almost twenty years.
Two years after his divorce to her, he'd married wife #2, Giselle Williams. Who, according to the linked bio, was a lingerie model a good decade younger than the first wife.
"I remember her," Dana said, nodding as a couple photos of the woman popped up. "She was really big about five years ago. Remember she did that runway show with all the sheer cover-ups."
"Sheer cover-ups?" I raised an eyebrow. "Sounds like an oxymoron."
Dana shook her head. "Nope. Coco de Mer designs."
I swallowed a snort.
"I didn't know she married Dog though," Dana added.
"Looks like it didn't last long. Less than a year," I said, noting the divorce date.
"Okay, so who was next?" Dana asked.
"Blakely Alexander," I said, reading the name of wife #3 off the screen.
"Oh, I love her!" Dana said, sipping her drink.
"Am I supposed to know who she is?" I asked.
"Blakely does reality TV. She did that show Party Beach House. You know, where they put a bunch of twenty-somethings in a house together with a lot of alcohol and let the cameras run twenty-four seven. She was on the third or fourth season. I can't remember."
"Looks like their marriage lasted a little longer than the last one. Two years."
"Now that you mention it, I vaguely remember hearing about her and Dog together. But it must have been between shows for Blakely, because I know she did Celebrity Relationship Rehab with someone else."
"Well, the most recent ex-wife is Caitlyn Cross. Listed as a personal trainer from Manhattan Beach."
Dana squinted at the screen. "Wow, she's only twenty-five. That's almost the same age as his son."
I nodded. "Blakely isn't a lot older. Twenty-nine."
"Looks like Dog had a habit of trading in for a younger model every few years," Dana noted. "Maybe that's why he was single. He couldn't go much younger."
I frowned at the screen. "So do any of them feel like a shedunit?"
She pursed her lips. "They all could, I guess. I mean, like you said, it all depends on how amicable the divorces were. Or not," she added.
"It looks like Giselle currently lives in France," I noted, clicking through to her bio page again.
"Well, that makes it hard to spike his Invigorate bottle in Los Angeles," Dana noted. She looked down the list again. "Blakely's local, though."
"What about the most recent one. Caitlyn?"
Dana clicked through to a bio for wife #4. Of all the wives, hers was the most sparse, and not just because she was barely old enough to buy a beer. Her one claim to fame seemed to be her fleeting marriage to the rapper. All the info the website had on her was a birthdate and a link to a YouTube video of her teaching a spin class at a place called Beach Body Sculpt.
"Actually, I know that gym," Dana said, stabbing a fingernail at the screen. "I did a stint there as a guest instructor once. It's only a few blocks from here."
I checked the time on my phone. "I have an hour before I have to pick up the twins. Wanna go see how amicable wife #4's split was?"
* * *
Beach Body Sculpt was located just off Wilshire in a huge purple building that was hard to miss. The side facing the street was painted to look like a large cresting wave, and as we walked into the lobby, the beachy theme carried through with a front desk made of surfboards and actual sand on the floor of the weight room just beyond.
A young brunette in a bikini top and board shorts stood behind the desk. "Can I help you?" she asked, looking over at us expectantly. Though as soon as her eyes hit Dana, recognition lit them. "Oh! You're Dana Dashel, right?"
Dana smiled, though I could see her cheeks tinting pink. "Uh, yes. Hi."
"Ohmigosh, I'm such a fan. I thought you were amazing in Lord of the Throne. The way you inspired those Elves to rise up and fight the Bobbits…so strong, right? Like, girl power."
I tried not to snicker.
Dana's blush deepened. "Uh, thanks," she said. "But credit goes to the writers for that speech."
The woman blinked at her, as if unaware of the existence of such creatures.
"Anyway, we were wondering if Caitlyn Cross is working today," Dana said.
"Are you thinking of training with her? Because Caitlyn totally knows archery."
Dana frowned. "Archery?"
"Yeah. Like, don't your Elves do that?"
Oops. The snicker escaped.
Though, I doubted Fangirl noticed, her eyes rooted to Dana like she was seeing an actual magical character from the J.R. Ravensberg world materialize in front of her.
"I'm actually shooting a crime drama right now," Dana told her.
"Oh. Right." The girl looked disappointed as she turned to the computer screen in front of her. "It looks like Caitlyn is in Classroom C right now. If you could fill in these guest passes with your names and addresses, you can go on back." She passed a couple slips of paper and pens to us. "Her goat yoga class wraps up in ten minutes." She pointed to a hallway. "Down that way, second door on the left."
"Goat yoga?" I said as Dana and I filled out the forms and headed down the hallway.
"Yeah, it's where you have live goats join you in a yoga session."
"I know," I told her. "I've heard of it, but I thought they did that on farms and stuff. Not in mid-Wilshire."
Dana shrugged. "Maybe they're urban goats."
I was about to ask more, when we reached the classroom door. Dana pulled it open, and we took a tentative step inside.
Twelve women in yoga pants and cropped tops were in the downward facing dog positions on their mats. They were accompanied by several goats, who were busy trotting around the room, bleating and weaving among the woman. I watched, mesmerized, as a black and white four-legged creature climbed onto a brunette's back and started munching on her long hair.
"Caitlyn," the brunette shouted to the instructor. "He's doing it again."
"Bubba!" Caitlyn clapped her hands and yelled in a disapproving tone. "Get down this instant. You know better than that."
Bubba let out a loud b—aa-aah that had me covering my ears. He made a circle around the room then lay down and covered his eyes, nestling against another goat who had a pink bow around her neck. Girl Goat's black eyes came to rest on me.
Uh-oh.
Before I could react, Girl Goat got up and charged in my direction. I let out a yelp and instinctively leapt to the right to avoid a horns-on collision. Unfortunately, while I avoided the goat, I ran right into the extended derriere of a fiftyish woman in a bright green outfit, who toppled over into a heap on the floor, taking me right along with her.
The class erupted in laughter as I stumbled to my feet. "Sorry," I whispered to the woman I'd crushed and then quickly rejoined Dana near the door.
Caitlyn stared at me curiously, then turned her attention back to the students. She had curly auburn hair pulled back into a ponytail and the build of someone who liked the gym a whole lot more than I did. I could see the muscles bulging in her thighs with every step she took, and her biceps were almost as big as my head. In contrast to her She-Hulk body, her face had a
girl next door look to it, with big blue eyes and a slight dusting of freckles covering her cheeks.
"What's the point of using goats in class?" I whispered to Dana. "They're distracting." Not to mention scary.
"They're supposed to be distracting," she explained. "Being around live animals is relaxing. It's supposed to strengthen your chi and open your chakras."
"Slowly raise yourself into a standing position," Caitlyn instructed her class. "Now let's draw that last deep, cleansing breath."
I wrinkled my nose as the musky scent of Boy Goat peeing in the corner filled the room.
The class all breathed together, ignoring the aroma, as the other goats continued to trot around the room, bleating loudly. One over-energized creature leaped from the floor onto a petite woman's back, knocking her flat on her mat.
The class ended with the students giving themselves a round of applause, and the goats chimed in. The women started collecting their mats, shoes, and other personal items and left the room. Two employees came in and began corralling goats onto leashes and throwing sawdust on the pile of goat pee-pee. One young woman in the back of the room in no obvious hurry was sitting on the floor, lacing her sneakers and chatting on her phone. Caitlyn drank deeply from a blue bottle and then smiled as we approached her.
"Sorry that we interrupted," I said.
Caitlyn waved a toned arm in the air. "No worries. I often get people in here observing before they decide to take this class."
"How many times a week do you teach it?" Dana asked.
"Every Monday, Wednesday, and Saturday," Caitlyn said. "But on Saturdays I use the boa and should warn you that it's first come first serve, so be sure to sign up early."
I gulped. "Do you mean boa, as in snake?"
Caitlyn nodded. "It does wonders for your brain waves."
I shuddered. I didn't trust anything with fewer legs than I had. "I don't mean to pry," I told her, totally lying. "But aren't you Caitlyn Cross? You were married to Doggy Z, right?"
Her blue eyes gazed at me in apprehension. "Please don't tell me that you're another reporter."
"No," I assured her, wondering just which reporters she'd encountered thus far. "I'm Maddie, and this is my friend Dana. My stepfather was a fellow contestant of Dog's on Jeopardy! I'm so sorry for your loss."
Caitlyn pressed her perfectly pink glossed lips together tightly. "Thanks. But it's not my loss." She shook her head. "Nothing about Dog has been mine in a long time. Thank goodness."
"That sounds like your marriage didn't end well?" Dana shot me a knowing look.
"He cheated on me," she stated. "With one of his groupies. A girl young enough to be his daughter."
I refrained from pointing out that she could also fit that bill. "I'm sorry," I said instead.
But Caitlyn just shrugged again. "Yeah, me too. But I got a real nice settlement out of it, so whatever."
Her sense of romance was touching. Then again, she was talking about the guy who wrote "Doin' It Doggy Style," so I cut her some slack.
"How long were you married?" Dana asked.
"Only a few months before his tongue accidentally fell into the groupie's mouth. The divorce proceedings took longer than the whole marriage."
"And you got a nice settlement after just a few months of being together?" Dana asked, the skepticism clear in her voice.
Caitlyn smirked. "Infidelity clause in the prenup. I insisted on it. You know, being that he didn't exactly have a reputation for being faithful."
"No?" I asked.
"Just ask wives 1, 2, and 3."
I was about to ask if she knew where I could find said wives, when I felt my phone buzz with a text.
"When was the last time you saw Dog?" Dana asked as I glanced at my phone readout.
The message was from Tina.
Well? Any info from hubby?
I pursed my lips. Not that I wanted to share. At least not yet.
I swiped to ignore and shoved the phone back into my purse in time to catch the end of Caitlyn's answer.
"…hadn't seen him for a while. I tried to avoid him, if you know what I mean." She took another sip from her bottle, and I noticed the label on the side. Invigorate—the same energy drink that Dog had consumed before he died. The same drink that I suspected had killed him. Caitlyn caught me staring and raised an eyebrow in question.
"Are those any good?" I asked tentatively.
Caitlyn dabbed at her forehead with the pink towel slung around her neck. "They're great for balancing electrolytes, and the caffeine and B vitamins give you a real kick."
"I thought I noticed Dog drinking something similar at the game show taping yesterday."
Caitlyn nodded. "Yeah, he was hooked on them. Said it was the only way he could get through one of my workouts." She looked from Dana to me. "That's how we met, you know. Dog hired me as his personal trainer to get in shape for that TV show he landed."
"The cooking show with Aunty Mae?" Dana clarified.
Caitlyn nodded. "Yeah, that was the one. Of course, by the time he started filming it, we were over anyway, so whatever."
The woman who'd been sitting on the floor talking on her phone came over to us. She was about my height, with light brown hair styled in a blunt cut and dark eyes framed by long, thick lashes. She wore bright pink yoga pants and a white tank top that showed off a trim but curvaceous figure.
She scanned Dana and me up and down. "What's going on here?"
"Nothing," Caitlyn assured her. "We were just talking about Dog."
"What about him?" the woman asked nervously. "Are you reporters?"
Caitlyn rolled her eyes. "Relax, Blakely. It's nothing like that."
"Blakely Alexander?" I asked.
The woman nodded. "That's right."
"I thought you looked familiar," Dana spoke up. "But you changed your hair color."
Blakely looked surprised but pleased. "Thought I'd go brunette for a while. What do you think?"
"Very cute," Dana said.
We went through a hasty round of introductions. "Blakely was also married to Dog," Caitlyn said. "That's how we met."
"Dog introduced you?" I asked.
But Blakely threw her head back and laughed. "As if! No, Dog cheated on me with Caitlyn."
I turned to Caitlyn. "So I guess that's how you knew about his reputation for infidelity when you married him, huh?"
If Caitlyn was ashamed of her part in Blakely's breakup, she didn't show it, just shrugging again. "What can I say? After Dog cheated on me, Blakely and I bonded over our mutual dislike of the man."
"Turns out, we had a lot more in common than just falling for the wrong guy," Blakely added. "I think our friendship has lasted longer than either of our marriages to him."
"I hope you don't mind me saying this," Dana said to Caitlyn. Then she turned to Blakely. "But you're very forgiving."
Blakely grinned. "Sure, I was mad at first. But really, Cait was just an innocent victim of that man. He preys on women, tells them what they want to hear, and then moves on the second he gets bored." She frowned. "Or he did, anyway."
"A friendship like ours is worth more than any man," Caitlyn agreed. "That goes double for a dog."
They both laughed at the joke but stopped when Dana and I didn't join in, seemingly realizing they were talking about a dead man.
"Did your prenup have an infidelity clause like Caitlyn's did?" Dana asked.
Blakely paused, eyes cutting to Caitlyn before she answered. "With his history, I'd be dumb not to."
"You mean he cheated on other wives?" I asked.
Blakely nodded. "Who do you think broke up marriage number two?" She chucked two thumbs in her own direction.
"Wait—Dog cheated on wife #2 with you"—I pointed to Blakely—"then you became wife #3, and he cheated on you with soon-to-be wife #4?"
She gave a shrug and a head tilt. "I shoulda known better than to trust him, right?"
"Don't tell me you two are besties with wife #2 also?" I asked.
Blakely wrinkled up her nose. "Giselle?" She shook her head. "No way. She's too stuck up. Moved to Paris or something after Dog paid her off."
"She got a nice divorce settlement too?" Dana asked, giving me a meaningful side-eye.
Caitlyn nodded. "We all did. Well, everyone but Laura."
"Laura?" I asked, trying to place the name.
"The OG," Blakely said. "Original wife. Dog's first marriage."
"Laura didn't get a divorce settlement?" Dana asked.
"Not a penny," Caitlyn confirmed. "Trust me—I heard Dog complain about every alimony check he ever wrote when we were together. None went to her."
I frowned. "But they were together for years, right? Since before Dog made his millions. Wouldn't she be entitled to at least some community property?"
Caitlyn gave me a blank look and shrugged. "I dunno. All I know is Laura got nothing."
Interesting. That left at least one wife who might not have been so nonchalant about making off like a bandit after a short-lived marriage went south.
"You mentioned you teach Mondays, Wednesdays, and Saturdays," Dana said. "So you weren't teaching a class yesterday?"
"No." Caitlyn eyed Dana suspiciously. "Why?"
"Just wondering if you'd gone to the Jeopardy! taping," Dana said, putting her acting skills to the test with her fake nonchalance. "You know, to wish Dog luck or anything?"
Caitlyn put her hands on her hips. "And why would I do that? I told you, Dog and I were ancient history."
"She was with me," Blakely blurted out quickly. "Here at the gym. She was training me all day."
"That's right." Caitlyn nodded slowly, some of her initial eagerness to talk to us wearing off. "I was here."
Jeopardy in High Heels (High Heels Mysteries Book 12) Page 7
