by Judi McCoy
“Maybe so, but—”
The door swung open and Ellie’s knees went weak. Standing in front of her was . . . a pony? Exhaling a gasp, she gave a feeble grin and focused on the woman standing next to one of the largest dogs she’d ever seen.
“Hi, I’m Kayla. You must be Ellie. Come on in.”
When Bradley didn’t move, the thin, attractive blonde shoved his back end. “Move it, love bug. Bitsy’s home.”
Love bug? Ellie waited, still unable to speak as the harlequin Great Dane stared her down.
Bitsy trotted in under the humongous canine’s legs. “Come on, Brad. These are my best friends. Back up a few.”
“Yeah, Bradley, back up,” Ellie said to him, hoping to regain her composure. Maybe the sound of her voice echoing inside his head would shock the big pooch into obedience.
The Dane gazed at her with a look of shock in his eyes, but he didn’t say a word. Nor did he budge from his guarding stance. Instead, he gave another growl, only this one was throaty and menacing.
“Ah, shut up, ya big moose, and get outta my way.” Rudy tugged his leash out of Ellie’s fingers and followed Bitsy under the behemoth and into the apartment, trotting after Kayla, who appeared oblivious to Ellie’s predicament.
“Come on, Bradley. I have lots to tell you. We need to catch up,” Bitsy called from down the hall.
Ellie crossed her arms and stood her ground. She had no intention of pushing a 125-pound dog around, even if she had him beat in the weight department. They were at a standoff until—
“Bradley, get your bony butt out here right now, and let the dog walker into the living room.”
The Dane shook his foot-long head, took a step backward, gave a snort, and turned. Ellie waited a second, then walked in and shut the door. Bitsy wasn’t kidding when she said Bradley was “ginormous,” but Ellie’d had no idea she’d been talking about a Great Dane. There were heavier canines—Bull Mastiffs, for instance—and some Irish Wolfhounds might be taller, but for overall size, Great Danes won the prize.
She had the American Kennel Club listed in the favorites section of her computer. First thing after dinner, she would go to the site and check out the description of this breed. Maybe she’d learn something that would help her and Bradley get along.
When she arrived in the living room, the Dane was reclining next to his mistress on the sofa—make that on two-thirds of the sofa—and Bitsy was curled up between his paws, looking like a queen engulfed in a throne.
“Have a seat. Rob’s getting ready to go to the club,” Kayla said, scratching Bitsy’s tiny head.
Ellie blinked when she saw Rudy perched next to the woman’s feet. The little stinker. “If my boy is bothering you, just tell him to go away.”
“Bothering me? Lord, no. He’s a doll. Almost as sweet as my love bug.”
Rudy licked Kayla’s fingers and walked to Ellie’s side. “He’s not so bad, Triple E. Just show him who’s boss and you’ll get along fine.”
“Did I hear a knock?” Rob asked as he stepped into the room. Dressed in a pair of chinos and a dark green sweater, he spotted Bitsy and went to the sofa, where she launched herself into his arms. “Welcome home, baby girl,” he said, nuzzling her neck. “It’s good to have you back where you belong.”
Bitsy licked his chin, and Rob carried her to a pale yellow wing chair. When he sat, she snuggled against his chest. Raising his eyes, Rob gave Ellie a smile. “I don’t know how I’ll ever thank you for taking care of her.”
Ellie took a seat in the matching chair. “There’s no need for thanks, but I do want to tell you that Bitsy’s been a bit . . . down. I took her to David Crane for a checkup, and he said she was fine physically, but neither of us is sure she’s okay mentally.”
“Mentally?” asked Kayla. She put a hand on Bradley’s mammoth head. “Hear that, love bug? You’ll have to make your cousin feel safe and happy while we’re here.”
“I see you two have met,” Rob said, grinning. “Kayla is almost as empathetic with Bradley as you are with Rudy. You two should get along great.” He furrowed his brow. “Any idea why she’s upset?”
Ellie imagined the following conversation. “Uh, yeah. Your pooch is suffering from post-traumatic stress disorder.”
“Really? And how do you know that?”
“Because she told me so.”
Positive that wouldn’t go over very well, she said, “When I figure it out, I’ll let you know.” Then she turned to his sister. “I know we haven’t had a chance to talk, but I’m glad you’re here, Kayla. Rob needs support until this is cleared up.”
“As soon as the police find the real killer, my brother will be fine. He tells me you’re going to lend the cops a hand with the investigation.”
“Oh, boy.” Rudy jumped into Ellie’s lap. “I knew this was gonna happen.”
She wrapped her fingers around his muzzle. “I think we’d better talk about that, but first—” She looked at Rob. “Kayla said you’re going to the club, so I assume you plan to perform.”
“You bet. I’m out on bail, and I intend to live my life as if I’m innocent—which I am. Kayla and I discussed it with my attorney and decided it would be good to show everyone, including the cops, that it’s business as usual.”
“What else did your attorney advise?”
“Not much. He said he had to wait until he got the DA’s info before he does more.”
Ellie sat up straighter in her chair, almost afraid to ask the next question. “So he’s not hiring a private investigator to look into what happened?”
“He mentioned it, but I told him you were already on the job and he—”
Ellie held up a hand. “Rob, I’m not someone who can do that professionally. I don’t have a license to detect, or whatever you call it. If I start snooping,” like I already have, “the cops might throw me in jail for—for—” What was it Sam had threatened her with? “Interfering in an ongoing investigation, or obstruction, or—or—”
“That won’t happen, because your boyfriend is one of the men in charge.” Rob looked in Kayla’s direction. “Sam’s the one I told you about. The guy with the takecharge attitude.”
“Rob, no. I mean, yes, that’s Sam, and he is my boyfriend, but he doesn’t want me meddling in this case.”
“He told you that?”
“Pretty much.”
“Oh.”
“Maybe you could stay out of his way while you looked into things?” offered Kayla. “You know, sort of off the record. After all, Rob says you single-handedly solved a couple of murders already. The cops should feel lucky you’re willing to help.”
“I didn’t realize Detective Demento had ordered you off the case, Triple E,” Rudy yipped. “What a putz.”
She closed her hand around his muzzle again. “I’m sorry, but I don’t want to risk doing jail time.” And I don’t want to lose Sam.
“If it’s money you want—” Rob began.
“A real friend wouldn’t expect to be paid, little brother.” Kayla rose from the sofa and so did Bradley. “Maybe it’s time you left.”
Ellie set her boy on the carpet and stood. “It’s not that I don’t want to help.”
“That’s okay. I understand.” Rob stood, too. “Kayla’s just acting protective. Always has, especially since Mom and Dad tossed me out of their lives like so much garbage.”
“He’s singin’ a sad song, Triple E, but I don’t buy it. I think he’s playin’ you.”
“I’m sorry—really I am,” Ellie said. “I’ll be by tomorrow morning to get Bitsy at the usual time, if that’s all right with the two of you.”
“While you’re at it, how about walking Bradley? I’m a night owl, and it might be nice for him to meet a couple of other dogs while he’s here.” Kayla’s sharp blue eyes dared Ellie to say no. “I’ll pay the going rate, of course, provided you truly are my brother’s friend.”
“Well, that’s nice,” Rudy griped. “She really knows how to twist the knife.”
<
br /> Ellie was speechless. The next thing she knew, she was standing in the outer hallway thinking about their conversation. How was she going to help Rob without getting in trouble with Sam?
And what was she supposed to do with Bradley?
Chapter 9
“Frieda deManeata? Sheleata Burrito? You have got to be kidding.” Grinning, Viv scooped up a spoonful of Caramel Cone. “Could they be more in-your-face?”
“I think that’s the point,” said Ellie after swallowing the last bit of ice cream from her container. “Drag queens live to get attention, which will get them fans and exposure in show business. It’s sort of like me passing out business cards to drum up clients, only it’s all about persona with them.”
“And their name is a business card?” Viv rolled her eyes. “Please, that’s ridiculous.”
“It’s the only way I know how to explain it,” said Ellie, running a hand through her hair. “I just wish Sam understood why I was at the club.”
Vivian raised her eyebrows. “We both know why you do it. You enjoy searching for clues and helping your friends, and you love it when you’re proved right about a killer.”
“I do, but I don’t want it to detract from my relationship with Sam. He means a lot to me.”
“Stop dancing around the truth. Just come out and say it. You’re in love with him.” Vivian’s tone was almost accusing.
“I’d never deny it to you, but I’m waiting for Sam to say the words first. Until then, I’m keeping my feelings to myself.” She rubbed her arms. Was it the ice cream that had brought on the chills, or was it discussing her feelings about Sam that sent her into the deep freeze? “Have you told Dr. Dave how much you like him yet?”
“No. I’m on hold with him, too.” Viv frowned. “Why do men have to be such idiots?”
Ellie shrugged. “If women knew the answer to that question, there’d be a lot more happy unions in the world.”
“If you ask me, men should be more like dogs. You know, loyal, kind, trusting.”
“For Sam, that seems to be the magic word.”
“Loyal?”
“Trusting. He says if I trusted him to do his job, I wouldn’t interfere.”
“Doesn’t he know how you feel about your friends?”
“I’ve told him a hundred times, but he just doesn’t get it.” She heaved a sigh. “Actually, things have gotten a bit worse. Rob thinks all I have to do is snap my fingers and I’ll magically prove he’s innocent.”
“How does he expect you to do that?”
“By finding the real killer, of course.”
“What? He actually wants you to find a scissorswielding murderer? You, the queen of nonviolence with ‘Everybody is my friend’ as her own personal mantra?”
“Guess so. Even his sister thinks I can do it.”
“I forgot about her. What was her name again?”
“Kayla Janz. Apparently she’s a writer.”
“You’re kidding? Kayla Janz?” Viv’s complexion blossomed to a soft pink. “I’ll be darned.”
“You know her?”
“I read her,” Viv answered. “Religiously.”
“No kidding? What kind of books does she write? Romance?” Ellie hoped it was her favorite genre. She loved a happy ending, especially after being married to the dickhead for ten miserable years.
“Not exactly romance.” Vivian grinned. “Guess again.”
“Mystery? I don’t read a lot of those, especially the gory ones.” She hated blood and guts. She needed good vibes in her life, not bad.
“Try erotica.”
“Erotica?”
“Naughty but nice. I love it.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever read one of those . . . and I’m not sure I want to.” She didn’t have to read about sex. She had Sam, and he was expert enough in that department for her. Still... “Do you have any of her books?”
“A couple dozen.” Viv’s green eyes darkened. “You want to borrow one?”
She might need to, if Sam dumped her. “Maybe. Can I take a rain check?”
“Of course.” Viv stood. “You going to walk Rudy?’Cause Twink and I will tag along if you like.”
“Sure, but give me a minute to put on shoes and get my boy.” Ellie went to the bedroom and found Rudy asleep on his pillow. Slipping on her flats, she said, “Last walk of the night, big man. You ready?”
Yawning, Rudy stretched out his front legs and wagged his butt in the air. “If you insist.” He jumped to the floor. “You and Viv talk about anything interesting, like the dopey detective’s latest ultimatum?”
“Sort of. I’m still not sure what I’m going to do about Rob and his problem. Maybe I should just leave everything up to Sam and the NYPD.”
“You could, but what about Bitsy? She’s got troubles of another kind, and I think we should try to help her out.”
Ellie would have liked to talk that over with Viv, too, but her best human pal would never understand how she’d been able to get to the crux of Bitsy’s problem. “Okay, here’s the deal. I’ll continue to work on Bitsy instead of helping Rob. If Sam complains about my nosing around, that will be my answer. If I just happen to uncover clues about the killer while I’m helping Bitsy, so be it.” They headed into the hall. “Think that will work?”
“Beats me, but give it a try. If the dopey dick doesn’t approve, it’s just like I been sayin’—he doesn’t deserve you.”
In the foyer, Ellie put on a jacket and hooked Rudy to his leash. They met Viv and Mr. T in front of their apartment and left for their stroll. She had a lot of ideas to mull over, especially the lying part. She hated dishonesty, and although what she was thinking about doing wasn’t exactly dishonest, it was avoiding the truth.
She’d be okay if she didn’t get caught, but if she did .. .
The next morning, Ellie heard the ringtone and fumbled for her phone, charging in the cradle on her bedside table. She couldn’t imagine anyone phoning Paws in Motion at this ungodly hour, but it could be Anthony Rizzoli calling to accept the assistant’s job. After she met him at the Cranston again, and signed him on, she would have to tell him the rules about phoning her before eight a.m.
“Ellie here,” she said, suppressing a yawn.
“It’s your mother, Ellen Elizabeth. Did I wake you?”
She groaned internally. Next time, she’d be smart and check caller ID in order to head off a sunrise ambush. The last thing she needed to start her day was a lecture from Georgette. Or a reprimand. Or a grilling. And any of the aforementioned might be the reason for the call.
“Yes, you woke me, but it’s all right. My alarm would have gone off in another hour or so.” She swung her legs over the side of the bed. Might as well take her medicine, or whatever it was her mom planned to dish out. “What’s up?”
“We have yet to receive your RSVP.”
RSVP? “Uh, clue me in, Mom. What reply are we talking about?”
“The one you should have sent back regarding Stanley’s party on Saturday night, of course. Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten.”
Ellie imagined her fifty-five-year-old mother, dressed in a size four ice blue peignoir, sitting at her makeup table and frowning carefully in the mirror. Being a loyal user of Botox, there wasn’t any other way she could frown.
Annoyed that she was placed in the middle of another lie, she knew the only way she could get out of this was if Georgette’s radar was on the fritz. “Are you certain you sent me one? I don’t remember receiving an invitation.”
“But you did. I called two days after I gave them to the doorman, and you told me you had the envelope in your hand.”
“Oh, that invitation. You’re right. I got it. I guess I forgot to open it. Sorry.”
“You forgot to open an invitation to one of the most prestigious legal events of the year, given by your mother and your stepfather?” After a long, reprimanding pause, Georgette continued. “Even so, I assume you’ll attend.”
“Me? Ah . . . I don’t
know.”
“A few of your clients will be here, including one of the guests of honor and his wife. Norman Lowenstein and Mariette.”
Ellie gave herself a mental head slap. As usual, her mother was correct. Judge Lowenstein was one of three men being considered for some sort of prominent position in the federal judicial system. Apparently, a seat on this bench, or whatever it was called, carried the possibility of a future appointment to the highest court in the land.
“I do remember Stanley talking about it the last time I was over for dinner, but I don’t think I’ll be able to make it.” What with taking care of Bitsy, placating Sam, and helping Rob, she doubted she’d have time for anything else over the next couple of weeks. “You’ll have to give the judge my regrets.”
“Tell him yourself, because he’s sitting right here begging for the phone.”
“What? Mom, no—”
“Ellie, my dear,” said a familiar, jovial voice after a few whispers in the background. “Please say you’ll attend.” Judge Frye came through loud and clear, and surprisingly strong for a wheelchair-bound man of eighty-three. “I’ve told so many people about you and your fascinating business venture. There will be several opportunities to pick up new clients, so bring those adorable cards you usually carry.”
Ellie couldn’t help but smile. Her fifth stepfather was her absolute favorite, and she hoped with all her heart that his and her mother’s marriage lasted until one of them went to their heavenly rest.
“I’m sort of busy, Judge. Do you really want me there?”
“You and your boy? Absolutely, and bring that upstanding young man you’re seeing, too. It might do him good to rub elbows with a few of this city’s more prominent law officials.”
She doubted Sam would agree to go, even if he was talking to her by that point. “Okay, you twisted my arm. I’m not sure about Sam, but Rudy and I will drop in for a little while.”
“Good, good. You’ve made me a happy man. Now I’ll give you back to my bride.”
