Desperate Housedogs

by Sparkle Abbey

  Mozambique was already busy when I got there. I stopped just inside the entry to let my eyes adjust and to enjoy the delicious smells. I hadn’t thought I was hungry, but the blend of grilling and exotic spices had my tummy rumbling.

  I’d changed because my clothes were muddy from my time at the dog park. I wore black jeans with a bright red tunic I’d bought at the Farmer’s Market a couple of Saturdays ago. It probably clashed with my hair, but I didn’t care. I loved the unique design and the comfort of the fit.

  Zeus and Tommy Boy were doing well, all things considered, but according to Don they couldn’t stay at the shelter for much longer. I hoped Kevin’s brother was willing to take them or, if not, that he’d be willing to release them to a German Shepherd rescue project.

  Actually I was rooting for J.T. because I’d hoped the dogs could stay together. The likelihood of the rescue group being able to do that would be slim. It wasn’t impossible, but it made placing them more difficult.

  I gave my name and the hostess escorted me to a table in the back dining area. Kevin’s brother didn’t look at all like him. Where Kevin had been tall and bulky, J.T. was short and geeky. Kevin had always reminded me of a football linebacker. His brother seemed more of a debate team sort of guy. It wasn’t unheard of for brothers to be radically different, but I couldn’t see a single bit of Kevin in J.T. Just first impressions mind you, but I find that often gives you an insight you don’t get if you think too much about it.

  After J.T.’s phone call the other day, I’d wondered how he’d known to contact me. I knew how he’d gotten my number. He’d called the PAWS number to reach me. That number was prominently displayed on the door, on my flyers, and on my website. Or all he had to do was ask around.

  But how had he known I was the last person to see Kevin? Or at least the last one the police knew about. If I could get Detective Malone to call me back I would correct that error.

  As for why J.T. wanted to talk to me—well, that just wasn’t clear.

  As I approached the table, J.T. rose and held out his hand, “Carolina Lamont?”

  “Caro, please.” I shook his hand, again struck by the disparity between the two brothers. Kevin’s hands had been big and meaty. J.T.’s were small and smooth.

  Maybe Kevin and J.T. had different fathers. My brother and I didn’t look much alike either, and that was the case with us. We both had Mama Kat’s heart-shaped birthmark on our backsides, though. That was a family trait we didn’t generally share in public. So unless I mooned you, you’d never know.

  “And you must be Kevin’s brother.” I moved to sit down. “Please accept my condolences.”

  He waited until I was seated. “I’m guessing Kevin never talked about me?”

  “No, I’m sorry, he didn’t.” I wasn’t going to pretend otherwise.

  “That’s understandable. We’d kind of gone our separate ways the past few years.”

  “Where are you from?” I sipped from the glass of water the waiter had placed in front of me.

  “San Francisco.” He signaled the waiter. “What would you like to drink?”

  I ordered an iced tea. The dining room was packed but the hostess had placed us in a quiet corner so it was a little easier to converse.

  He picked up the menu. “What’s good here?”

  I’m a Texas girl through and through and so normally a nice grilled steak is right up my alley, but not at Mozambique. I didn’t need to look at the menu. As always, I’d come for the Peri-Peri prawns and sweet potato fries.

  Across the room, I spotted Sam.

  Man, seemed he was everywhere I was lately.

  He’d cleaned up too, and was with a big group of people, all of whom looked like they’d just stepped from the pages of Town and Country. He smiled and waved.

  I waved back, and then turned my attention back to J.T. and the server who was waiting to take our order. When the server left, I focused my attention on Kevin’s brother.

  “How are you doing? Do you have other family in the area?”

  “I’m doing alright.” His eyes roamed the room. It was a little rude, but I could understand why. Mozambique is beautiful with its elegant African décor. “I’ve only been to Kevin’s house once since I got here. I believe the police will be done with the property tomorrow. Then I’ll be able to go in and begin sorting through Kevin’s belongings.”

  “That must be hard.”

  “Yes.” He sipped his wine. “The reason I wanted to talk with you was two-fold. I understand you may have been the last person to see Kevin alive.”

  “Well, except for whoever killed him,” I reminded him.

  He looked a little shocked at my frankness.

  “I’m sorry to be so blunt, but that’s the truth. Someone was there after I left. Someone who either meant to kill your brother, or at the very least scare him. And it wasn’t Diana Knight. The police should be looking for whoever that was,” I added for good measure.

  “Uh-huh.” Kevin’s brother watched my face intently almost like he was reading my lips.

  The server arrived with our food and J.T. leaned back to allow her to place the plates on the table. He waited until she’d gone and then cut into his lamb and took a bite.

  “Ms. Lamont. Uh, Caro. This may be uncomfortable for you, but I was wondering if you could fill me in on the details of why you were at Kevin’s and what happened.”

  The Peri-Peri prawns were as tasty as ever. As we ate, I told him about the dogs and my house call to Kevin’s. I tried to include as many details about Kevin as I could recall. I detailed the time I was there, what we’d done, and the confrontational interaction with the horticulture worker.

  “You know, J.T., I think he may have some information about Kevin’s death. Perhaps he may even be involved, but I don’t want to jump to any conclusions. If we could locate him at least the police would have a chance to talk to him about what he may have noticed.”

  “I see.”

  I waited for him to ask about the dogs but he didn’t. I guessed his lack of interest might mean he wasn’t much of a dog person.

  “I wondered about Kevin’s dogs. Were you planning on taking them?”

  “I hadn’t really thought about it.”

  “Do you have pets?” I was of the opinion even if you weren’t a pet person you could always be converted. Kevin had taken to pet ownership like a fish to the ocean.

  “No, I don’t. I travel a lot.”

  Okay, there was not a trace of wistfulness in his tone. Could be J.T. wasn’t a candidate for conversion to responsible pet owner. Absentee pet parents are not a good thing.

  I sighed. I’d really been hoping for an easy transition for Zeus and Tommy Boy.

  Kevin’s brother leaned forward in his chair. “Another thing, at any time did Kevin give you anything to keep for him?”

  Uh-oh. Like a little black book? That he didn’t exactly give me. And that I didn’t think should be in anyone’s hands for fear of the information it contained being used to hurt people. Just exactly why would J.T. want that book? Shoot. It didn’t seem likely it would be for a good reason, which made me glad I’d given it to the police. I could answer honestly without giving anything away, so I did.

  “No.”

  “Maybe something he just wanted you to hang onto.”

  “I’m afraid not.”

  “Was there anyone else Kevin was close to who he might have asked to keep something for him?”

  The more he pushed the more uncomfortable I felt. I couldn’t imagine why Kevin would have asked someone else to keep anything for him. Except the book. But then a week ago I hadn’t imagined that Kevin kept a book with dirt on everyone he knew.

  Maybe I was over-reacting. Kevin could have had a treasured family heirloom that J.T. had a special attachment to.

  “What is it you’re looking for? Maybe if I knew I could be more helpful.”

  “Oh, nothing specific.”

  Hmm. If he’d been looking for the family Bible or
their grandfather’s pocket watch, I didn’t think he’d be so cautious. It sounded like he might not know what it was he was looking for, and that didn’t seem quite right.

  As if sensing he’d said too much, J.T. backed off.

  We sat in silence for a couple of minutes. I wondered if I could excuse myself to go to the restroom and climb out the window. I wasn’t quick enough. Our server appeared and asked if we needed anything else. We both shook our heads.

  She offered the dessert menu. Again we shook our heads.

  J.T. waited until she was gone before continuing, and I appreciated his discretion. “I understand you’re friends with the woman they’ve charged with my brother’s murder.”

  “I am.” I took a sip of tea. “But Diana didn’t kill Kevin.”

  “She didn’t? How can you be sure? She had confrontations with him before. Do you think she meant to scare him?”

  “I don’t think so.” Glad to be away from the topic of missing items, I explained to him what Diana was like.

  “Clearly you’re fond of her.” J.T. smiled for the first time and it warmed his face. “I have to say you’ve convinced me of her innocence. But the police tell me they have evidence she had purchased a Taser.”

  “What? Why would Diana have a Taser?”

  “I don’t know. I guess the police will have to sort that out.”

  I didn’t have huge faith in that happening. When the bill came, Kevin’s brother insisted on picking up the check, which was decent, especially for someone who’d freaked me out. On the one hand, J.T. seemed pleasant and fairly harmless. But then he’d been so insistent and unwilling to say what he was looking for. It didn’t add up. Polite to the last, I thanked him for lunch, offered my condolences again, and took off.

  I should have gone straight to the police with my concerns, but I could hear Malone berating me for thinking there was anything suspicious about Kevin’s innocuous, grieving brother. I had a solid afternoon of appointments booked, and I’d done my duty when I gave Malone the book. It seemed like I might have better luck finding Kevin’s killer if I avoided him for a few more hours.

  I’d have more time the next day, anyway. I had only a few pet house calls, a number of errands, and then Grey Donovan was having a show at his art gallery in the evening. It was a community event with a lot of people in attendance so it might be the perfect time to see what the buzz was about Kevin and the investigation. It would also be a chance to find out if anyone else had been contacted by Kevin’s brother. It wouldn’t hurt to find out more about him. Also, sometimes when people are relaxing and not really thinking about it, they let slip some of their secrets.

  Chapter Twenty

  The ACT Gallery was packed with people and their pets. It was a veritable zoo of diamonds, furs and designer togs. The diamonds were on the people, the fur on the pets, the Prada and Chanel on both.

  In Laguna Beach, it was just a given.

  I caught Grey Donovan’s attention across the packed room and waved.

  Normally I loved Grey’s gallery events, but then I always looked forward to dishing with Diana on who was there and who was wearing which designer. Who was a hit and who was a miss. Diana could pair sweet and snarky in such an adorable way. Tonight I couldn’t stop thinking about her sitting alone in a jail cell.

  Although come to think about it, Diana was hardly ever alone. In addition to me (and the press), she had tons of other visitors. Dino brought her fresh Italian cuisine. Bella brought her books to read. She’d even won over the two hard-ass desk clerks who frequently snuck in special things like caramel macchiatos, Diana’s favorite coffee drink, and fresh avocadoes, which I knew Diana was not eating but using on her face. She swore an avocado mask was the best facial in the world. And here I’d been thinking avocados were good for you, but you had to eat them to get the benefits.

  Who was I to say? The lady appeared ageless.

  Tonight’s event was well attended. I mentally catalogued who was with whom, who was no longer with whom, and who was wearing what, to report to Diana tomorrow.

  I noted Mandy Beenerman in a striking black and white spandex number that showed her enviable yoga body to advantage.

  Her husband sported an attractive ocean blue Christian Dior shirt and entirely inappropriate Michael Kors bermudas.

  Don’t get me wrong, there’s nothing wrong with Michael Kors. But shorts, even four-hundred dollar ones, at an invitation-only art function? Questionable. In Texas we may wear boots to a high-falutin’ society feed but at least they’re our dress boots.

  Teri Essman, the mayor, was talking with Deke Ostrem, a local developer. Her Honor the Mayor’s pantsuit for the evening was a very attractive black Donna Karan.

  The developer sported Pucci, Gucci, and his ever present accessory, silicone-enhanced-super-model arm candy. His ex-wife, a few feet away, was dressed to impress (or something) in a siren-red blouse (perhaps Dior, perhaps not—Diana would know), an unfortunate leather mini-skirt, and a post-divorce plastic surgery fiasco that caused her to look perpetually surprised.

  I spotted Davis Pinter and the charming Huntley observing the chaos from a vantage point in the corner of one of the raised viewing areas. Davis was, as always, dignified in a conservative Burberry suit and Huntley was properly attired in his own creation, Cavalier King Charles fur. They were both on my best-dressed list and both adorable.

  Mona Michaels was front and center. No surprise there. Fluffy, her afghan hound, was by her side. Both pointed noses were in the air, and they wore matching Hermes scarves. And matching diamond collars.

  Get real. I shook my head.

  It was awesome for Grey to have such a big turnout, but in truth, it was difficult to see the artwork for all the people. This was Grey’s “Spring Abstractions” event and he was featuring several up-and-coming abstract artists. I was particularly interested in Katzumi, a young Turkish artist. I might have to come back another time to actually get a decent look at his art.

  “Caro—” Dino Riccio hailed me from near the hors d’oeuvres table. The way his gaze roved from the table to the crowd, I guessed his restaurant was catering the affair. I made my way to his side through the throng of people.

  “How are you?” I leaned in to kiss his cheek and snag a crab cake while I was at it.

  “Worried about our Diana, Caro miniera. I am very worried about our Diana.” Dino sighed. He caught a passing waiter and handed me a glass of champagne.

  I took a sip and glanced back at the chattering crowd. “You know she’ll hate missing this. If I thought I could get away with it, I’d snap a picture with my phone. But Grey’s pretty persnickety about any photos at all.”

  I understood his reasoning. The same folks with no fashion sense also often had no common sense, and suddenly, pictures of artwork popped up all over the Internet with no credit to the artist. He did allow the press but even they had to sign some agreement he’d had drawn up.

  Across the room the door opened and Sam Gallanos stepped through.

  First the dog park, then Mozambique, now here. I didn’t cotton much to pretty boys but, as Diana would say, this guy was easy on the eyes. There was no harm in looking.

  On his arm was a striking older woman in vintage Balenciaga that would have looked stuffy and ridiculous on someone younger. On her it looked rich and classy.

  Diminutive in stature. Dark hair, dark eyes like his, flawless complexion. Her small hand was tucked into the crook of Sam’s arm, his larger hand laid on top. He smiled down at her affectionately and nodded to Grey, who was near the entry.

  Samuel Gallanos was truly a gorgeous guy but not in an over-groomed, over-tanned, over-the-top sort of way. The tan didn’t look tanning bed induced. It was likely from his time on the beach or his penchant for tennis. I guessed tennis from his dog’s name.

  I recognized the custom-tailoring in his untucked Egyptian cotton shirt, and I was sure his closet was full of clones of the dark Armani slacks he wore. But the accompanying gold jewelry
so often sported by the McBillionaires around town was missing. Thank God.

  It was hard to put my finger on exactly what it was, but he stood out in the gallery crowd like a best of breed at the dog park. His sex appeal reached across the room and shook my female hormones awake in a way I’d hadn’t felt in a very long time. To tell you the honest truth, I’d rather suspected that part of me had died.

  “Your tongue’s hanging out, Caro.”

  I recognized Grey’s voice without turning around. “Is not.”

  I shifted my drink and offered my cheek for a kiss. “Where’s Mel?”

  “On a buying trip to New York.” He smelled like a combination of fine wine and the outdoors, and his rough chin brushed against my hair as he leaned toward me. “I’ll be sure to tell Mel you asked about her.”

  “You do that, sugar.” I patted his arm, feeling the surprising strength beneath the suit coat. I always had the sense there was more than meets the eye with Grey. Something just under the surface.

  Grey did nothing for me in the lust department, but I loved him like a brother, and had hoped to add him to the Montgomery extended family.

  Of course, that depended on Melinda. The girl was an idiot to mess up her engagement to this hunk. I wasn’t even sure what the exact problem had been. Let me assure you, though, my insufficient information was not for any lack of trying to stick my nose in their business.

  Mel wasn’t talking to any of our family about what had happened and Grey was far too discreet.

  “How’s my darlin’ Cobie?” Cobalt was Grey’s Weimaraner and probably the smartest dog in the whole wide world. He didn’t do brain surgery, but I’m sure he could’ve if he wanted to.

  “He’s great.” Grey smiled the proud papa smile of those of us who don’t have children but instead have fur-kids. “I took him with me on my last trip and he loved it.”

  “I’ll bet he did.”