High Jinx

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High Jinx Page 4

by Shannon Esposito


  I thought through my steps. ‘I don’t think so. Just the oven, the oven mitts and the cake. I’d been in there yesterday, though. I did a private doga session with Flavia so I touched more stuff then. If you find my fingerprints anywhere, that’s why.’

  Detective Farnsworth rubbed his temple. He needed a haircut. His hair was hanging over the tops of his ears. ‘So you didn’t see anyone exiting the kitchen? Passing you on the way in?’

  ‘Nope. You really think somebody killed Mr Beckley on purpose?’

  ‘That surprises you?’

  ‘Well, yeah. I guess. He just seemed like such a nice guy. A happy guy. Who would want him dead?’ I thought about the fight we’d all witnessed. ‘Except maybe his daughter.’

  He glanced up. ‘His daughter?’

  I nodded. ‘They’d just had a huge fight about … I don’t know … maybe half an hour before I found him. We were standing over there by that tiki torch.’ I motioned to the area. ‘And Mr Beckley came around the corner with his daughter, I think her name’s Cali, and some other woman. Cali was screaming at him that he owed her something and he screamed back at her that he owed her nothing and to get off his property. It was pretty ugly. She said she’d see what her mom, Selene, thought of that and then she and the other woman stormed off into the house.’

  Detective Farnsworth was very still and his eyes were bright with interest. ‘And what did Mr Beckley do then?’

  ‘He apologized to us all and then went into the house after her.’

  ‘Can you point out his daughter to me?’

  I pushed myself up on stiff legs and walked out into the yard. He followed. Scanning the yard, I spotted Flavia first. Selene and another couple were seated around her with their heads bowed while an officer talked to them. No sign of the daughter, though. Then I turned and saw her. ‘Oh, there she is.’ She’d emerged from the house a few feet away from us, escorted by another officer. She was holding the hand of the woman who was with her earlier, and the woman trailed the black kitten on the leash. Cali looked defiant and fuming, not at all the demeanor of someone who’d just lost her father.

  ‘That’s her – Cali, the one with the purple streak in her hair,’ I whispered. If she was the killer, no need for her to be mad at me, too.

  Just then Athena jumped off Flavia’s lap and bolted toward us, yipping and running more like a banshee than a twenty-seven-year-old Chihuahua. Chaos ensued as Flavia and Selene started screaming at Athena, and the man who’d been sitting with them jumped up in pursuit of the little dog.

  Defying gravity, the kitten leaped into the air, expanding like a furry puffer fish. Its pupils dilated like a coke addict as it twisted around mid-air and did the one thing nature had programmed it to do when danger approaches – climb.

  Cali’s friend screeched as the panicked kitten stuck to her leg and then used its tiny claws to scramble up her body and hold its ground on her shoulder, where it made the cutest little hissing sound. Blood had already begun to seep from various parts of the woman’s stick-like bare legs and arms. Her expression was frozen in pain as Cali tried unsuccessfully to remove the embedded animal. It didn’t help that Cali started giggling and had to bend over to catch her breath. Guess grief manifests itself differently for different people.

  ‘I told you not to put her on a leash,’ she said between bouts of laughter.

  ‘Athena!’ The man grabbed the dog midair as it tried to jump on Cali’s friend after the kitten. ‘Sorry, Sam.’ He held the dog into his chest and, wincing at Cali’s effort to free the kitten, quickly pivoted and carried the dog away.

  Detective Farnsworth and I exchanged an amused glance before he cleared his throat. ‘OK, you can go home, Miss Pressley.’ Then he walked over to Cali and the other woman. ‘When you’re done there with the kitten thing, Miss Beckley, I need a word.’

  Relieved his focus was now elsewhere, I went to Devon.

  He’d ended his conversation with Detective Salma Vargas and was standing by the pool with Beth Anne, her husband Carl, Violet and Jarvis.

  Devon scanned my face and then wrapped me in his arms and pulled me into him. ‘You all right, love?’

  I nodded, scratching my cheek on a button but enjoying the warmth and feeling of being protected that washed over me. ‘Fine. He said I can leave now.’

  ‘So, Elle, you found Michael?’ Beth Anne’s voice held the same kind of awe awarded to a death-defying circus act.

  I turned in Devon’s arms so I could face them. ‘Yeah. Detective Farnsworth wasn’t forthcoming about what really went wrong with the prank, though. He didn’t seem to think it was an accident.’

  ‘Oh, that’s because someone cut the rope to his safety harness,’ Violet offered in her casual way of dropping a bombshell.

  When we all stared at her in surprise, she just shrugged. ‘I know one of the officers.’

  ‘I bet you do.’ Beth Anne smirked at her.

  Cut his safety harness rope? No room for accidental death there. ‘If someone did that, why didn’t he call for help? There were enough people around; surely someone would’ve heard him.’

  Violet shrugged. ‘Rob … I mean, officer Jenkins said he would’ve immediately become disorientated and his brain oxygen would’ve been cut off within twenty to thirty seconds. No time to call out.’

  Wow. At least he didn’t suffer long. I tried not to imagine Michael Beckley’s last moments, but unfortunately I had a good imagination. ‘Did he say if they have any suspects?’

  ‘No, but I see the detective is talking to Cali. After that fight I’d say she’s a pretty good candidate,’ Violet said.

  Cali didn’t seem to be enjoying the conversation with Detective Farnsworth at all. Her arms were crossed and her jaw clenched. The family watched them closely, also.

  Now that the band had stopped playing, the night was silent except for the frogs and insects. People were talking but in hushed whispers. ‘Who’s the couple sitting with Selene and Flavia?’

  Beth Anne turned to see who I was talking about. ‘Oh, the guy dressed as Peter Pan? That’s M.J. – Michael Jr, Selene and Michael’s son. Not sure who the cute fairy girl with him is.’

  ‘That’s Lulu Dutrey,’ Violet offered. ‘She owns that Urban Creole restaurant, The Gumbo Pot, over on 10th Avenue. Amazing food.’

  ‘Oh, yeah. I’ve been meaning to try that place.’ Beth Anne stared at the woman with gold corkscrew curls and fairy wings seated between M.J. and Selene. ‘That itty bitty thing? Huh, I would have never guessed.’

  There was no way I could ask Selene for the money now, but I did feel like I should at least give my condolences. I tilted my chin up to Devon. ‘We should go say something to the family and then get out of the way.’

  ‘Agreed.’

  ‘See you ladies in class on Monday.’ We said our goodbyes and headed over to the family.

  Unfortunately, Detective Farnsworth beat us to them. We stood behind him, unsure what to do as he started questioning the distressed group. My eyes immediately went to Lulu Dutrey. She was mesmerizing up close. The wings fit her perfectly as she had a face like a fairy with mocha skin and striking pale green eyes. Her grief, glittering in her eyes and swelling her already pillowy lips, just seemed to make her more beautiful and fragile.

  A strangled wail suddenly came from Flavia and she spat on Detective Farnsworth. I jumped back reflexively.

  ‘Ooo,’ she cried. ‘I did it! It was me!’ Pt! Pt! Pt! She then spat on herself three times.

  FIVE

  ‘Mom!’ Selene cried out in shock as Lulu turned her head and threw up behind her chair.

  I wished I could’ve seen Detective Farnsworth’s face at that moment. Two officers moved in front of him, hands at the ready near their guns. Detective Farnsworth calmly pulled out a handkerchief and wiped at his shirt as he used the other hand to signal to the officers that he was fine. They relaxed and stepped back a few feet.

  ‘What are you talking about?’ Selene cried over Flavia’s continued
hysterics.

  Flavia clutched the eye pendant at her chest. ‘My curse took away the protection of God! Dis is why he is dead!’

  Selene made a noise of disgust. ‘Stop it, Mom. Enough with the stupid curses.’

  A passionate string of Greek exploded from the tiny woman in the wheelchair. I was impressed.

  ‘Yiya!’ a pale M.J. cried as he pulled Lulu protectively closer to him. Her eyes were closed and she was very still. It was kind of odd seeing them together. Lulu was so extraordinary and M.J. was so … well, normal. He also had a deer caught in the headlights look about him. Probably in shock. ‘Let’s all calm down, all right? This isn’t helping the situation.’

  Flavia’s hand trembled as she pointed a crooked finger at M.J. ‘You young people don’t believe. You don’t know. The curse of a mother is a death sentence.’ She began to weep softly and crossed herself.

  Selene rolled her eyes and looked up at Detective Farnsworth. ‘Obviously my mother is insane. She didn’t kill my husband.’ Her face drained of color and she suddenly looked like she’d just been emotionally hit by a truck. Her arms collapsed into her lap. ‘Oh my God. He’s gone. He’s really gone.’

  This seemed like as good a time as any to step in. ‘Excuse me.’ I moved past Detective Farnsworth and gave Selene an awkward hug. It was like hugging a deflating balloon. ‘Before we left, we just wanted to say we’re so sorry for your loss. If there’s anything we can do, just ask.’

  I nodded sadly to Flavia and the others and then we made our exit, taking the path around the house, which was illuminated by puddles of yellow light. As we emerged from the side of the house we ran smack into a uniformed officer cradling a roll of yellow crime-scene tape and Alex Harwick, head of Moon Key security. Devon and Alex glared at each other for a second – both of their faces darkening – then Devon grabbed my hand and pulled me quickly around Alex. ‘Feckin’ eejit,’ Devon growled under his breath.

  I glanced at Devon as we hurried to the Jeep. What was behind his hatred of Alex? Sure the man was an idiot, but what I saw in Devon’s demeanor was fury. I’d have to wait for the right moment to ask him about it and this definitely wasn’t it.

  My Monday morning doga class at the Pampered Pup Spa & Resort was filled with twelve dogs and their owners. This was my limit on what I felt I could keep control of, which had forced me to add a third class during the day now that snowbird season had arrived. Not that I’m complaining. I get ten bucks per client and while money may not make the world go round, it sure could turn my car from a hunk of junk into actual transportation. Having Devon drop me and Buddha off here in the morning was just not acceptable. He shouldn’t be responsible for getting me to work. Maybe I should just move back into one of the suites here until I get my car fixed? My heart sank. I realized how attached I’d already gotten to Devon and sharing routine moments with him, like letting the dogs out and making breakfast together. Yeah, a little humiliation was a small price to pay for waking up in his arms every morning. But it felt wrong that I was technically mooching off him for a place to live after only seven weeks, two days and six hours of dating exclusively. Not that I’m counting. And even though he keeps assuring me he doesn’t see it that way and just wants to be with me, it still bothers me. Was I overthinking this? Why did I have to make things so complicated?

  I was tired and not in the greatest mood as I stroked Buddha’s back and waited for everyone to get settled. I’d given up trying to sleep last night after the third time a nightmare about Michael’s hanging corpse had me jerking awake in a cold sweat. I’d also been thinking about Flavia all day yesterday and her staunch belief in curses. I’d grown fond of her and hoped she didn’t really believe her disapproval of Michael had anything to do with his death. The only person to blame was the one who cut the rope on his safety harness.

  Besides my regulars, there were a few new faces in class. When everyone seemed settled I put on a smile and said, ‘Good morning.’

  ‘Morning,’ a variety of voices and levels of enthusiasm replied.

  ‘For those of you that haven’t been to doga before, I’m Elle and this is Buddha.’ Buddha glanced up at me when he heard his name, and I patted the Australia-shaped tan spot above his tail. ‘Buddha’s been doing this for a while, so don’t expect your dog to mimic him. The main thing to remember here is to relax so both you and your dog have a pleasant experience. Don’t force them to do anything they don’t want to do. It’s perfectly fine if they want to wander around the room or rest on the blanket instead of participating. If you didn’t grab a blanket from the closet, please do so now.’ Budgeting was not an issue at the Pampered Pup, so I’d ordered yoga blankets, blocks and straps for fifteen clients.

  I patted the mat and Buddha stretched out, his stump of a tail ticking back and forth. I wondered if he even remembered his life on the streets before I found him five years ago. I sure hoped not. ‘OK. We’re going to start with just a cross-legged seated pose. If you have a small dog you can try seating them on your lap. If your dog isn’t a lap dog, just try to get them to relax on the mat in front of you like Buddha is demonstrating here.’ Relaxing was Buddha’s area of expertise.

  A commotion in the back of the room startled everyone and put all the dogs on alert. ‘Hold onto your dogs, everyone!’ Jumping up, I navigated over mats, water bottles and oversized Michael Kors handbags. Whitley Moorehead, the cool-headed staple of the group, had beaten me to the brawling dogs and had one of them, a Norfolk terrier new to doga, clutched to her bosom.

  ‘It’s all right. We’re all friends here,’ she cooed. Then she handed the sturdy, wire-haired terrier off to Gwen, the visibly shaken owner, who scolded, ‘Naughty, Gilly. That was so naughty!’

  ‘Everyone all right?’ I asked through heaving breaths. This was my first dog fight in class and it shook me, too. I was not good with confrontation – human or canine – and would feel awful if a dog got hurt in my class.

  Gilly squirmed in her owner’s arms, gagging and working her tongue against the roof of her mouth.

  ‘They’re fine. She’s got a little …’ Whitley circled her own mouth with a French-manicured finger and smirked at the small brown terrier.

  Gwen tilted her head and then, grimacing, pulled some of the other dog’s fur from Gilly’s tongue.

  ‘Yes, Bristol’s fine.’ The other owner – a tall woman with her silver hair pulled up in an elegant French twist – stroked her miniature Collie, who was panting hard but showed no other signs of being hurt. ‘Her thick fur is like armor. My apologies. I’ll keep her leash on.’

  ‘One of you should probably move, too, just so you both can relax.’ Whitley put a hand on my arm before going back to her mat and her greyhound, Maddox. ‘It happens. No biggie.’

  ‘Thanks.’ I gave her a shaky smile. She was one of the few women in here who understood my struggle with anxiety. I appreciated her bringing calm energy to the situation.

  Still, I felt very unsettled as I continued the class. My mind kept returning to Flavia’s words that I was cursed. Of course, it was ridiculous. I was only noticing all the bad things happening because of what she’d said. I led everyone in a few calming breaths, mostly for my own benefit, and then we continued.

  The new class I’d added was right after this one ended so I only had time for a quick restroom break before the next bunch of women and their dogs arrived. Most of these ladies were snowbirds and new to my class, so they would be more of a challenge. I was surprised to see Selene come through the French doors and then groaned as Flavia rolled through the door behind her. Not that it wasn’t nice to see Flavia – it was the little devil on her lap I wasn’t happy about, especially after I’d already had one dog tussle this morning. Pushing myself off the floor, I went to greet them.

  ‘Selene, how are you holding up? I didn’t expect to see you in class today.’ I hoped my sympathy showed more than my weariness. ‘I see you brought your mom. Hello, Flavia.’ I nodded instead of reaching for her hand, knowing that
would be greeted by tiny teeth. I wanted to ask her if she’d said that prayer to remove my curse yet, but that would be ridiculous since I didn’t believe in curses.

  ‘Ack.’ Selene made a noise in her throat. She had her inky black hair pulled back in a tight ponytail, her normally flawless complexion was mottled and bags had settled beneath her chestnut eyes. ‘We’re staying here at the spa so I figured why not. I’ll go crazy if I have to sit in that room today just thinking about Michael being gone.’ She rolled her eyes toward her mother. ‘Can you believe it? We can’t even go home to our own house to grieve. First those detectives keep our guests there until three in the morning questioning everyone and then they kick us out, tape off our house and have police guarding the door. We couldn’t even get clothes to take. Nothing. Just, “Get out!” We had to go shopping yesterday for clothes for everybody.’

  ‘Really? I didn’t know they could do that.’ Besides the legal aspect, the amount of police tape they’d have had to use to secure that mansion probably broke their budget.

  ‘Mm. Apparently they can do whatever they want. We can’t go back until they’ve finished processing the house and they won’t tell us how long that’ll take.’ She rubbed the space between Chloe’s ears vigorously, clearly agitated. Who could blame her? ‘At least the pups are going to have a good time – this place is doggie heaven. Chloe has a mud bath later and acupuncture. Maybe it will help her arthritis. Ah, here, I brought your check. Sorry it’s taken me so long to get it to you.’ She pulled the check from her bag and handed it to me. ‘When things settle down maybe we can set up a private class for Mom once a week while we’re here?’

  I went to answer her but we were interrupted by a cluster of ladies vying for Selene’s attention to offer their condolences. I caught a lot of ‘we can’t believe it,’ and ‘Michael was such a great guy. Everyone loved him.’ She accepted their sympathy with grace, and I had to admire how well she was holding up. Did Sven have something to do with her resilience? That would be firmly in the none-of-your-business category, Elle.

 

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