"I hope you don't mind me saying this, but…you're not exactly the type of woman Dog seems to have dated in the past," I said.
"You mean I'm older?" Mae gave me another sad smile and shook her head. "Yes, I'm aware there was an age difference. And, yes, I know he's dated much, much younger women in the past." She sighed. "But that was, as I said, a thing of the past. He was done with the immaturity and the starry-eyed groupies. He wanted a real woman. Someone with a heart and mind and soul. Some life experience behind them." She drew herself up to her full height, which topped out just an inch or so above mine. "You know what they say? Once you go grey, there's no other way." She gave me a wink.
As long as Fernando's salon existed, I planned never to test that saying.
"Is that why you told us that your husband was trying to get Dog off your show?" I asked her. "All part of the 'I hate Dog' act?"
"Did I say that?" She blinked wide, innocent eyes at me.
I nodded. "When we met the other day. You said your husband was getting rid of him, when in reality he was negotiating a new three-year contract."
"How do you know about his contract?" Her eyes shot to mine, and I could see the shrewd businesswoman peeking through the Southern bimbo façade.
"I know an agent. Word gets around," I said, waving that detail off.
Which seemed to appease her, as she just shrugged and nodded. "Like I told you, Dog and I decided we had to keep up a pretense of detesting each other. Otherwise, well, it would have been too easy for anyone to see our passion for each other."
My doubt must have been clear on my face, as she went on.
"Look, you don't understand. Dog was unlike any other man I'd ever met. He had such a zest for life. He wanted to leave all this behind. He said we'd run away together. Isn't that adorable? Like some love story. Just run away together and start the rest of our lives over somewhere new. He was a true romantic that way." She paused to lean in. "And the man was an incredible lover. The things he could do with his—"
"Yep, I get the point!" I said quickly before she could expound any further.
She pulled back. "Well, anyway. He filled a void in my soul. Reignited passion in me that had been dormant for way too long."
"The old flame," I said, the meaning of the phrase dawning on me now.
"Yes." She nodded, tears forming in her eyes again. "He brought me back to life. You have no idea what it's been like living with Rupert for so many years." That sadness washed over her face again. "Once upon a time, I thought my husband loved me, but that was a lifetime ago. Now his only passion is for ratings."
"I'm sorry," I told her, meaning it. I had, after all, spent an entire meal with her husband. I knew what she meant.
"Rupert doesn't even see me anymore. I'm just another number on his asset sheet. But Dog…Doggy saw me. He understood me." She looked down at the note clutched in her hands as if remembering it was there. "I told him as much in my letters. I-I never got to give him this one." She sniffed. "He died before I could deliver it."
"I'm sorry," I said again. I patted her shoulder awkwardly.
"Yes, well, nothing to be done about it now." She sniffled loudly, bringing the tissue to her nose again.
"Mae, you mentioned that you went to see Dog on the set of the Jeopardy! taping to wish him luck. Is that true?" I asked, thinking that made a lot more sense now, knowing what their relationship had really been.
She nodded, pulling herself together. "It was the last time I saw him. He was afraid Rupert would catch me sneaking in, but…well, I just couldn't let him go on without a little good luck kiss, could I?"
"How did Dog seem to you then?" I asked.
She shrugged. "Fine. Maybe a little more distracted than usual, but I just chalked it up to nerves."
"And you wished him luck and then left?"
She nodded then paused, the color rising in her cheeks, and she lowered her eyelashes. "Well, we might have done a little more than just kiss before I left. But it was just a little quickie."
The canapé I had eaten earlier rolled over in my stomach.
"He was just so passionate about—everything," she said, infusing the word with meaning.
This was too much information for me, so I changed the subject. "I have to ask…I noticed you and your husband arguing just now at the memorial. Was it about Dog?"
She nodded, getting her sniffling under control. "It was that article in this morning's Informer. About Dog's mystery woman."
"You," I said. "Rupert read it and guessed she was talking about you?"
She pursed her lips. "I-I think so. I mean, he didn't outright accuse me, but he wanted to know if…if there was any truth to what that stupid reporter had printed."
"What did you tell him?"
"What could I tell him?" She shrugged, giving me that sad, watery smile again. "Just that it didn't matter now. Dog was dead, and whoever he'd been seeing…well, that relationship was dead too."
She looked so defeated that I feared another bout of sobs. But she must have cried out all she had, as she just slowly put the note into her purse and stepped to the mirror, dabbing at the streaked makeup with cold water from the sink. "Remember," she said, eyeing me in the mirror, "you promised not to say anything to anyone."
I hadn't exactly promised, but I nodded anyway. Which seemed good enough for her, as she turned her full attention back to her own reflection, pulling cosmetics out of her bag to repair the damage her breakdown had caused.
I took the cue to leave her alone and backed out of the restroom. My mind was whirling as I made my way toward the cast lot, where Dana and Marco were waiting, Dana's car idling at the entrance.
"What took you so long?" Marco asked, fanning himself with one hand, despite the AC blasting from the vents.
"Sorry," I said, slipping into the back seat. "I ran into Aunty Mae in the restroom." I quickly filled them both in on everything she'd told me as Dana pulled out of the parking lot.
"Wow. Talk about opposites attract," Marco said when I was done.
"I think it's romantic," Dana said. "Two star-crossed lovers meeting in secret."
I met her eyes in the rearview mirror. "One of whom was married, and the other was the poet who came up with Doin' it doggie style makes me want to howl."
Dana laughed. "Okay, fine. Maybe romantic isn't quite the right word."
"I'll tell you what the word is," Marco said, swiveling in his seat to face me. "Motive."
"For Mae?" I asked.
"No, for Mr. Aunty Mae. Rupert Blick. Didn't you say you saw him argue with Dog at the taping?"
I nodded. "We did. Right before the show started."
"Blick said it was because Dog wasn't taking the show seriously enough," Dana added.
"But what if it was for another reason?" Marco offered. "What if he'd seen his wife go into Dog's dressing room for that little quickie?"
"This wasn't exactly a crime of passion," I reminded him. "I mean, I doubt Blick walks around with antifreeze in his pockets."
Marco frowned. "Okay, so maybe it wasn't that quickie that sent him over the edge. Maybe it was another one. Maybe Mae and Dog weren't as discreet as they thought they were. I mean, you found the love letter. What if someone else had seen it too? Or overheard something, and they clued Blick in?"
I nodded, digesting that idea. "It's certainly possible. I overheard Blick and Mae arguing at the memorial just now too. Blick seemed to guess that Tina's article about a secret lover was referring to his wife."
"Ha!" Marco said, stabbing a finger in the air. "See! Blick did know."
"Just because he guessed it after the fact, that doesn't mean he knew while Dog was alive," I pointed out.
"And, I hate to burst your bubble," Dana said, "but it wasn't as if Blick and Mae had an overly close relationship to begin with. I mean, could I see Blick feeling betrayed that his wife was cheating? Of course. But killing over it?" She shook her head. "That seems extreme, given the dismissive way he talked about his wife."
Marco pouted for a moment before switching gears. "Okay, so maybe it wasn't about jealousy. Maybe it was about Dog leaving?" Marco offered. "Maddie, didn't you say that Dog told Mae he wanted to run away together? Leave all this behind?"
"Yes," I said, seeing where he was going with this. "And if Dog was a big hit in the ratings for Blick, that might have been enough to make him angry. Maybe those contract negotiations weren't going quite as he'd planned."
"Maybe it was a case of, if Blick's network couldn't have Dog, nobody could?" Marco said.
"I don't see how it helps Blick to have a dead Dog any more than Dog just leaving," Dana pointed out.
Marco shrugged. "I don't know about that. Blick's certainly getting a whole lot of free publicity over it. You saw how he was milking it at the memorial."
He had a point. Dog's name was on everyone's lips right now.
"And," Marco added, "if Dog and Mae really were going to run off together, that means Blick was losing the Aunty Mae franchise altogether. This way, at least he's still got her. And my guess is her ratings will be soaring with sympathy viewers for a while."
I could see Dana's frown, as if she didn't like the idea of her boss being a killer, even if Marco was making a tidy case for it.
"I don't know," Dana said as she merged onto the freeway. "What if it was Mae who killed Dog?"
Marco gasped. "Aunty Mae? Why? She said she was in love with him."
"Right, but what if he didn't feel the same way?" Dana said, eyes cutting to me in the mirror again. "We only have Mae's word that the feeling was mutual. The love letter was from her to him. I mean, what if Dog was just having a little fun? To him it was just a fling, and Mae found out he wasn't as passionate about her as she thought."
"Or, true to form, maybe Mae discovered Dog being unfaithful to her," I added.
Dana nodded. "Right! Mae finds out, it breaks her heart, and she decides to exact her revenge."
"She doesn't want suspicion surrounding her show, so instead she visits him on the set of another show. She spikes his drink and walks away," I finished.
"I don't know," Marco said, still frowning. "Aunty Mae seems too wholesome to be a killer. Too sweet. Too perky."
"It's not natural perk," Dana told him. "It's antidepressants and vodka."
"No!" Marco looked like someone had just told him Adam Lambert was straight. "Are you sure?"
"Sorry, hon," I said, putting a hand on his arm.
He sighed. "But she did bake the cookies, right? I mean, those are her great-grandmother's recipe from the farm, right?"
I didn't have the heart to tell him they were much more likely from Pepperidge Farm.
* * *
By the time Dana dropped me back off at home, I realized it was almost four and Mama Ramirez was due to arrive soon to help with the kids. And I had to get ready for the Celebrity Jeopardy! Tournament finale taping.
I took a quick shower and made myself a peanut butter sandwich to sop up the glass of wine I'd had at the memorial. Then I blow dried my hair, did some product and curling iron action, and applied mascara and a coat of Raspberry Perfection lip gloss. I grabbed the new outfit I'd bought for the occasion—a pair of white palazzo pants in a soft chiffon with a sleeveless amethyst blouse. I added a pair of grey leather boots with a slender heel and was just topping the outfit off with gold hoop earrings and a rope bracelet when the doorbell rang.
"Coming," I yelled, expecting Mama Ramirez.
After a quick look in the mirror, I hurried down the hall, but the bell rang again before I could get there. My mother-in-law was in an impatient mood. "Coming!" I called again before I unlocked the door and flung it open.
Only, instead of finding Mama Ramirez smiling and waiting, I found myself face-to-face with Caitlyn Cross.
"You!" she yelled. She stabbed a finger in the center of my chest and shot me a look that made an icicle form between my shoulder blades. "You have some serious explaining to do!"
"Caitlyn?" I asked, looking past her to figure out just where she'd come from. "Wh-what are you doing here?"
"What do you think I'm doing here?" she shot back, her voice laced with anger.
"I honestly haven't the foggiest idea," I told her with all truthfulness. "Or, for that matter, how you know where I live," I added, suddenly feeling uneasy.
"You put your address on your guest pass at Beach Body Sculpt," Caitlyn said. "And don't try to change the subject." She stormed past me inside.
Please come right in. It was tempting to push her back outside, but when I got a closer look at her bulging biceps, I squelched the urge. Even if I wanted to move her, there was no chance.
Caitlyn was dressed in her normal workout gear, which consisted of aqua colored leggings and a matching sports bra. Every part of her body was toned, muscular, and pulsating with veiny anger. She looked ready to bench press me.
"So what is the subject?" I asked. "What are you doing here?"
"I want to know what you and Blakely were talking about at the gym yesterday," she snapped, crossing her arms over her chest and taking a combative stance.
"We were just chatting. You know, about…stuff. Dog. Jeopardy!." My voice sounded shaky to my own ears. "See, my stepfather is a contestant—"
Caitlyn cut me off, her nostrils flaring. "Don't give me that garbage. I want the truth. She's been seeing him again, hasn't she?"
My mouth went dry. "No, of course not."
"You're a terrible liar," she sneered.
Oh boy. "Wh-what makes you think she was doing anything behind your back?" I said.
Her eyes narrowed. "I'm not stupid! I've seen all the signs. She gets nervous and jittery every time I say Dog's name. She was practically jumping out of her skin the first time you and your friend came around."
I licked my lips. "Maybe she just didn't like us bringing up the past?" I offered.
"She was sleeping with him. I know it. And after she promised! We made a pact that neither one of us would hook up with him again."
"I don't think she was hooking up with him." More like he was hooking her up.
But Caitlyn wasn't paying attention to me. She started pacing around my living room in a circle like a caged lion. "I can't believe I trusted her. I thought she was my friend!"
"Honestly, Blakely wasn't seeing Dog," I told her. Well, not in the way that she thought. But I hesitated to spill Blakely's secret.
Caitlyn's blue eyes shot up to meet mine, the intensity in them forcing me to take a step back. "So, you do know something, then. Blakely did confide in you."
"Noooooo. I mean, yes she did, but no, I don't know anything. I mean, nothing about Blakely sleeping with Dog. Which she wasn't."
She made a sound low in her throat like a growl. I could see the muscles in her legs go taut, poised as if to pounce on her prey.
I licked my lips, trying to think of a way to calm her down. "Uh, by the way, congratulations on your inheritance."
"What?" she snarled.
"I, uh, heard about the reading of the will today. That you inherited a nice sum from Dog's estate."
Her eyes remained narrowed, but the change of subject at least had her legs relaxing a smidge. "A consolation prize."
"I'd hardly call four million dollars a consolation prize," I said.
Caitlyn shrugged. "By my calculations, if Dog had lived, he would have ended up paying me much more than that in alimony. I work out, eat healthy, and keep myself fit. If Dog had lived to be seventy, I would have easily doubled that."
Looks could be deceiving. I hadn't figured Caitlyn for a math wiz. "That's a heck of an alimony deal you got there."
"I have a good lawyer." She narrowed her eyes at me. "You think I killed him, don't you?"
The thought had crossed my mind.
"Well, I didn't," she said, not waiting for a response. "Dog was worth more to me alive than dead."
"How was Blakely's settlement?" I asked, honestly curious. "Was he worth more to her alive than dead too?"
/> She frowned. "I-I don't know!" She threw her arms up. "All I know is that Blakely swore she'd stay away from him. She lied. She deceived me, just like Dog did!"
She was gaining steam again, the pacing resuming.
"Look, maybe you should just talk to Blakely, and she can explain everything—"
"No one ever respects me! No one ever tells me the truth. All my life, all I've ever gotten is lies and betrayal. Well that ends now, do you hear me? I won't take it anymore!"
The woman was clearly at the breaking point. Maybe she'd had too much ginseng in her morning smoothie, but she looked about to blow her top.
"Caitlyn, maybe you should just calm down—"
"Don't you dare tell me to calm down!" she shouted. She took a menacing step forward, the muscles in her arms bulging like a She-Hulk.
I took a step back, practically tripping over a pair of Barbies on the floor.
"Look, maybe we should just call Blakely together right now?" Or the police. Or anyone who could intervene between me and the crazed body builder.
Sweat was running down the sides of Caitlyn's face, and her skin had turned an ashen color. I was afraid she might pop a vein. "I swear, if Dog went back to Blakely, I can't be responsible for my actions."
That was not what I wanted to hear while she was bearing down on me. I glanced across the room to where my phone sat in my purse by the door.
"She's supposed to be my friend," she went on. "You can't trust anyone these days." She paused to breathe, sucking in great big gulps as if she couldn't get enough of the stuff. "Just wait until I get her alone. I'll get the truth out of her."
Caitlyn clenched her fists at her sides as she stared down at me. Fear lodged in my throat. Her eyes narrowed at me again, nostrils flaring, and I was afraid her anger at Blakely had turned on me.
I was just about to make a flying leap for my purse and dial 9-1-1 when a voice from behind Caitlyn surprised me.
"What's going on here?"
Caitlyn jumped, the voice startling her as well.
We both looked toward the sound and saw Mama Ramirez standing by the front door, which I'd fortunately left open.
My mother-in-law might have been under five feet tall, but the command in her voice was enough to stop an army. She glared at Caitlyn with the same dark, dangerous eyes as her son as she waited for her to explain herself.
Jeopardy in High Heels (High Heels Mysteries Book 12) Page 19
