Grandma Tillie would have said she looked like she’d been rode hard and put away wet.
“We certainly do.” I hoped my inflexibility was clear. She needed to know that I’d been serious about sharing the information about her and Kevin with the police.
She glanced around. “Where’d Andy go?”
“The study, I think. He got a phone call.”
“Can you come into the kitchen?”
I followed her through the living room. Nietzsche was in his usual spot by the window. He seemed to be alright. His usual royal self. I resisted the urge to check on him. I wasn’t there about the dog today.
As soon as we crossed into the kitchen, I pinned Mandy down. “Have you told your husband?”
“Not exactly, Caro. It’s not what you think.”
“Mandy, don’t lie to me.”
“Donuts,” she blurted.
“Excuse me?” She’d gone off the deep end. “What’s the matter with you? Are you on crack, Mandy?”
“Sugar donuts.” Her turquoise eyes filled with big tears. “Kevin bought them for me. I’d go to his house to pick them up.”
Oh, my gosh, she’d really meant donuts.
“Donuts? Like the pastry kind?”
“Yeah, the super sugary kind. The little ones with powdered sugar all over them. I’ve got a serious donut addiction, Caro.” She covered her face with her hands and then looked up at me. “Please don’t tell anyone.”
Her eyes overflowed and tears ran down her perfect cheekbones. “Please don’t tell Andy. I thought I could tell him but I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t bear to see the disappointment in his eyes.”
I felt the burble of a hysterical giggle about to erupt from my throat. I swallowed hard to suppress it.
Seriously? This had been about a donut addiction?
I remembered the boxes of donuts in Kevin’s pantry when I’d searched his house for Grandma Tillie’s brooch. They hadn’t been for him, they were for Mandy. As bizarre as it seemed, her story rang true.
She’d stopped sobbing but her eyes were still watery.
“How many donuts do you eat?”
“A couple of boxes a day, most days. Some days more.”
“That’s a lot of donuts.” I didn’t know what else to say.
“I’ve been having to drive all the way to Oceanside to get them. I’m so afraid of being seen buying them. Even then I wear a disguise just in case.”
Again, that urge to let loose a snicker threatened.
“What kind of disguise?” I swear I couldn’t help myself. If I was going to have the picture in my head of Mandy-Hot-Yoga sneaking into a grocery store in another city to buy donuts, I wanted to get the details right.
“Well, I put on jeans and a t-shirt, sunglasses, and leave my hair kind of uncombed.”
Great, she disguised herself as me.
Suddenly, the thought wasn’t quite as funny.
“If this gets out, Caro, my business will be ruined. I’m a role model, a fitness expert. I preach healthy food, clean eating.”
I laid my hand on her tanned muscular arm. “Mandy, an eating disorder can’t be dealt with until you acknowledge the problem. You need to get some help.”
“I know,” she whispered. “I’m just so ashamed.”
It was still early afternoon when I left the Beenermans. I’d waved good-bye to Andy who was on another phone call. I’d given Mandy some names of potential eating disorder specialists (not local) she might consider contacting.
I’m afraid this latest revelation knocked Mandy and her husband out of my Murder Suspect Top Ten List. Still, there were plenty of others, and maybe their secrets were less hilarious. Oops, I meant more serious, of course.
When I arrive back at the office, Paris handed me a message from Jade at the Divine Dog Spa. What now?
Not Eleanor again, I hoped. I didn’t usually do dog errands and had only agreed to pick up Eleanor the one time because I had time and didn’t mind doing a favor for Lydia. I hoped she didn’t plan on me doing it on a regular basis.
I called Jade and was surprised to find she wanted to know if I knew where Kendall was. He hadn’t shown up for work that morning. They’d called his house and his cell phone. No answer.
Jade remembered me talking to Kendall yesterday and wondered if I had any idea what had happened.
“Do you think perhaps he had a family emergency? This isn’t like him at all. He’s a very dependable groomer, and quite well-liked by the staff and the clients.”
I told her I hadn’t heard from him. He’d arranged to meet me at the Sandpiper but hadn’t shown up.
Jade said they’d just sent someone on staff to check his house and then if he wasn’t there, they planned on calling area hospitals. If they didn’t find him either of those places they would notify the police.
I told her I’d be sure to let them know if I heard from him.
My gut said Kendall’s disappearance was related to Kevin Blackstone’s murder. I just didn’t know exactly how.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
After a morning that had included a dead landscaper, a donut confession, and now a missing dog groomer, I was more than ready for a break.
I was headed home for a good long walk with Dogbert. The dealership had dropped off my car and picked up the Audi. I climbed in, started my car, and tried the window just to make sure it worked. Satisfied, I put the top down and pulled out of the parking lot.
The rain the night before had left everything washed clean. There were a few random palm fronds and leaves that’d been blown loose, but other than that, it was like it never happened. You’ve got to love southern California weather.
I’d just turned onto my street when my cell phone rang. I figured it was Diana calling to tell me she’d confessed, Malone calling to tell me I was about to be Diana’s roommate, or my mother calling to say she was en route.
Lately phone calls had not brought good news.
“Caro Lamont.” I answered more sharply than I should have. The phone call could be from a client after all.
“Caro.” The voice was difficult to make out. “It’s Kendall.”
“Hell’s bells, Kendall, where in Sam Hill are you? Everyone is looking for you. Even the police.” I pulled into my driveway and put the car in park.
“Oh, no,” he squeaked. “I was afraid of that.”
“Tell me where you are and I’ll come and get you.”
“No! I can’t be arrested Caro. What would my Guido do?”
I didn’t even ask who Guido was. I wasn’t sure I wanted to know. “Why would you be arrested?”
“Because of what I did. What I asked Kevin to do.” His voice quivered. “I am so sorry.” He was sobbing now, and I couldn’t make out all the words.
“Kendall,” I said with some force. “I need you to buck up and tell me what’s wrong, or I can’t help you.”
There was silence on the other end. Mostly silence anyway. I could still hear a few sniffles.
“Tell me where you are, and I’ll come there. No police, I promise.”
“You swear?”
“I swear.”
“Alright, meet me at the Beanies coffee shop in Dana Point. It’s easy to find. I’ll be there in five.” He hung up.
So much for my walk with Dog. There was no way I could make it in five minutes, even if there was no traffic, and this time of day there would be traffic. I hit redial on my phone and tried to call Kendall back, but the call just went to voicemail.
Figuring I was going to be late anyway, I ran inside and let Dogbert out for a quick doggie break, and then got back in the Mercedes and headed toward Dana Point.
Kendall, hon, you had better show up this time.
I thought about calling Malone. I really did, but in the end I didn’t. I didn’t trust Detective Malone to handle Kendall carefully. I didn’t know what he’d done or asked Kevin to do, but it had probably been illegal. It came through loud and clear that Kendall was upset and scared.
When I reached the back lot at Beanies, I looked around. Having no idea what Kendall drove, it was hard to tell if he was there or not.
I walked into the coffee shop and looked around. No Kendall.
Great.
I’d known it was a possibility after the last time. And it had taken me a while to get there. I wondered if he’d gotten tired of waiting and left.
I’d started back out the door when I heard a pssst.
I looked around again.
“Pssst!” A heavy-set lady in a bright red and black tiger-stripe caftan was waving at me. A tall black turban swathed her head and gorgeous dreadlocks fell to her shoulders. Her bright red lips smiled and she motioned for me to approach her table.
Did she want to talk to me?
I looked behind me. It was definitely me she was motioning to.
Maybe Kendall had left a message.
I was within spitting distance before it hit me. The ‘lady’ wasn’t a large woman but a man. Kendall, in fact.
In a wig and either a bodysuit or a lot of pillows.
Truth be told, I have to tell y’all there’s a distinct possibility Kendall made a better looking woman than he did a man.
I sat down at the table. “Kendall. For cryin’ in a bucket, hon. Everyone is worried sick about you.”
“They are?” Tears welled up in his eyes and threatened his false eyelashes and very thick mascara. I hoped it was the waterproof kind.
“Oh shoot, darlin’. Don’t cry.” I reached into my bag for some tissues.
“I didn’t mean to scare anyone, but I am in so much trouble.”
“Yes, I believe you are.” I handed him several tissues. “Now do you want to tell me what’s going on? And why you didn’t show up last night?”
“I did show up last night, but there was a suspicious man dressed all in black lurking in the alley,” Kendall said. “I got a bad feeling about him, so I left.”
“That was Detective Malone. He has that effect on people. Okay. So tell me how you knew Kevin.”
“I met him at the dog park where I’d taken my Guido for a run. He’s cooped up all the time, poor little guy, because I work such long hours, and so I brought him to work for a while. But he had to stay in the kennel while he was at the spa, so it really wasn’t much better.”
“Guido is?”
“My little precious Pomeranian pal. He’s with a friend right now. I was afraid to go home.” Kendall looked over his shoulder nervously.
That explained Guido at least.
“Kevin was really nice and easy to talk to and I was telling him about my friend.” He stopped to take a sip of his frappuccino.
“Your friend, Carlo?” I urged him to continue.
“Yes, the hot and handsome Carlo Manolo. We were a couple at the time.” His eyes welled with tears again, and he blotted at them with the wad of tissues.
“Your friend,” I prompted again.
“I was blinded by love. That’s my only defense.” He hiccupped a sob. “What am I going to do?”
“Kendall, hon. Slow down.” I patted his big hairy arm, which was adorned with large black and red bangle bracelets.
I had two thoughts.
One, how did I ever think he’d been a women? What the heck was matter with me? My observation skills were definitely in question.
Two, if you were thinking you were in trouble with the law, and maybe accused of murder, would you stop to coordinate your accessories with your outfit? Just seemed a little out of whack.
But then, overall, Kendall was a bit north of normal in the fashion department. Okay, maybe not just the fashion department.
I pulled myself back to the issue at hand. “What did Kevin do for you?”
“He got fake ID papers for Carlo.”
“Carlo was here illegally?” I was beginning to get the picture.
“He told me he was here on a visa. Then his visa expired, and he just needed some time to get things all legally fixed up.” He flipped his dreadlocks over his shoulder.
“What made you think Kevin could help you with fake identification papers?”
“It was Kevin who suggested it.” Kendall had calmed down but still continued the periodic sniffle. “I’d run into him in Oceanside at a bar where he was with this guy who it turned out does the papers. Kevin approached me about Carlo, and said he’d help us. All I had to do was forget I ever saw him with that guy. I don’t remember his name. See? I’ve forgotten it.”
He barely took a breath before he continued. “So I took Kevin up on his offer, but then Carlo left me for Harry, this designer from San Diego who had the hots for him, and then Kevin was killed, and I wanted to tell the police about the guy, but I knew I’d be in trouble if I did. And then whoever killed Kevin might come after me. Or the police might put me in jail. And I don’t know what I’d do.” He’d begun to cry again. “Who would take care of Guido? He’d be an orphan.”
Oh, good golly. The drama. There were soap operas with less convoluted storylines than Kendall’s.
“Okay, first off, you have to tell the police.”
“Oh, no, Caro. No,” he wailed. “I’m not strong like the beautiful Diana. I’d never last in a jail cell.”
The other people in the coffee shop were staring at this point. I had to get him quieted down.
“I’ll call Detective Malone.” I felt a bit of kinship with Kendall. He and I had both been keeping information from the police in an attempt to protect people.
“I’ll explain. He’ll be very understanding,” I lied.
I called Malone on my cell phone. Lo and behold, he actually answered. I gave him the basics and asked him to meet us. You could have knocked me over with a feather when he agreed.
When he arrived, thank goodness he wasn’t driving a police car. I’m afraid a police car might have sent our caftan-wearing dog groomer over the edge.
I had Kendall recount all he’d told me for Malone, who to his credit made no comment about Kendall’s disguise. I could see the disbelief I’d felt on Malone’s face, as well as the confusion.
Once Detective Malone had heard the whole story, we bundled Kendall into his Toyota, assured him things were going to be okay, and sent him to pick up Guido.
Malone leaned against his Camaro. He’d parked next to me. His car was spotless, the silver metallic finish gleaming in the late afternoon sun.
“I see you got your window repaired,” he said.
“Yes, thank goodness it didn’t take them long.” I’d been surprised the repair had been quick.
He looked over the repair job and nodded approval. “Looks like they did a good job.”
“Where is the book?” I asked.
“What?” He lifted narrowed blue eyes to my face.
“Kevin’s book. Where is it?”
“In the evidence lockup at the police station. Where it belongs.”
“Do you remember an entry about Kendall in it?”
“I don’t remember seeing his name. Why?”
“I don’t know. This just seems like the kind of dirt Kevin might have noted.”
“Caro . . . ” His tone warned. I’d dealt with enough bad dogs to know what came next.
I was better with dogs than detectives.
“I now know Mandy Beenerman’s deep, dark secret,” I taunted.
“And?”
“And it’s not what you think.”
“How do you know what I think?” One dark brow lifted.
“Because you’re not all that hard to figure out.” I leaned in to look him in the eye. “You probably think it has something to do with sex.”
His expression gave him away. That was exactly what he’d been thinking.
“It has nothing to do with sex, and everything to do with donuts.”
“Huh?”
I filled him in on Mandy’s donut addiction, Kevin serving as her donut supplier, and my recommendation for eating disorder help for Mandy. “So, there you have it. One you can check off your list.”
>
Malone reached out and took me by the shoulders, his strong hands warm against my bare skin. He turned me around and looked me over from head to toe.
“What are you doing?”
“Looking for your badge, Officer Lamont.” He dropped his hands and stepped back. “You don’t seem to have a badge.”
“Point taken.” I opened my car door and got in.
“I’ll follow you home.”
“I think I can find my way, Detective.”
“I’m sure you can find your way, but can you stay out of trouble? That’s the real question.”
I wasn’t looking for trouble, but I couldn’t let sleeping dogs lie. I understood all too clearly Malone’s point, but the police were taking too long. Meanwhile Diana was still locked up and they were no closer to finding the real killer. I would continue working my way through Kevin’s list and try to figure out if anyone on the list had a secret worth killing for.
When I got home, I pulled out my copies of the pages from Kevin’s book. After my car had been broken into, I’d put them in the safe with Grandma Tillie’s brooch.
There had to be a note that referenced Kendall. Searching the pages, I finally located it. It said: KR, cub gy dgr, frm SFB, so fk id, LB 2yr, rtr
If KR stood for Kendall Reese, gy dgr could mean gay dog groomer or guy dog groomer. Who was I to say? I wasn’t sure about frm SFB but it could be a reference to wherever it was Kendall was from. I could ask him.
And I was pretty sure fk id was fake identification.
Shoot, I’d missed the connection before.
People and their secrets. If everyone would be a bit more forthcoming, maybe we (I know, I still don’t sport a badge) could figure out who had killed Kevin.
I had a sudden thought.
Why had Kevin been with someone who dealt in fake papers? I’d tried looking up Kevin before. There were Kevin Blackstones in nine states. I tracked down information on each one of them but none of them had lived in Ruby Point. In fact, none even had a California connection. At least not that I could find.
Kendall’s friend, Carlo, had gotten help with a fake identity from Kevin. Was it possible Kevin Blackstone wasn’t who he’d appeared to be? Nothing I’d been able to find matched with the Kevin I knew. What if I’d been looking under the wrong name?
Desperate Housedogs Page 18
