by Judi McCoy
“Readjust your attitude, mister,” said Ellie, holding him in place. “Or I’ll leave you in the hall.”
“Jeesh! You take the fun out of everything,” he groused. “Okay, I’ll mind my Ps and Qs, but don’t make me play hide and seek with ‘em or anything else cutesy, and remember, I do not share my sleep space. I draw the line at getting intimate with the hairless wonders.”
Ellie frowned. “I’m sure they’ll bring their own entertainment, and you sleep on my bed, so you don’t have a thing to say about it.” Inspecting the foyer, she spotted two dog beds and a tote filled to overflowing with, she imagined, treats, toys, and special food. “Look, they’re all ready. They even have their own sleeping bags, just like kids going to a slumber party. We’ll bring everything home, and they can settle in while you nap.”
She walked into the living room and sat on the forest green leather sofa, sinking into luxury. Supermodels made big bucks, she figured, but she doubted Janice’s fledgling singing career could compare. They usually slept late when she gave the boys their first walk, but one of them was up when she arrived for the second outing. Since they were both leaving town, she was certain one of the sisters would make an appearance soon.
“I think this mission of mercy exempts me from going to your mother’s tomorrow. You know I hate spending time at the ex-terminator’s.” He hopped onto the sofa and gave her a pleading look. “Georgette treats me like a fifth wheel . . . or something she had to scrape off the bottom of her shoe.”
She ignored his use of Vivian’s pet name for her four-times-divorced parent. “Mother made a special point of inviting you to Sunday brunch, so you’re going.”
“That alone smells like a rancid liver treat. She’ll probably find a way to kick me or give you another lecture on filthy animals and your demeaning job.”
“You’re wrong. I think she’s finally coming to accept the fact that we’re a matched pair. I’ve told her often enough, if you aren’t welcome in her home, neither am I.” She picked up the latest issue of Vogue, which featured Patti on the cover, and thumbed through the magazine. “By the way, I’m still waiting to hear about what really happened between you and Mother the week the D and I were on our honeymoon.”
“Why does something that took place ten years ago matter? Karma reunited us, and we’ll stay together for a long, long while, right? That’s what’s important.”
“Maybe so, but—”
“Ellie, hi.” Patti strutted into the massive room with Cheech in her arms. “Who are you talking to?”
“Me? Oh, ah, no one. Hey, the cover of this magazine is fabulous.”
“Hang on a second.” She went to a wall of bookcases, fiddled with the sound system, and set the music to a more bearable level. “Sorry, that racket is Jan’s thing at the moment, not mine. What did you say?”
“This cover.” Ellie held out the Vogue. “It’s wonderful.”
Patti cocked her head as if seeing the publication for the first time. “It turned out all right.” The supermodel ran a hand through her fall of chestnut hair. “Though I still can’t believe that’s me, plain ol’ Patricia Fallgrave from Union, New Jersey, featured on the front.”
Ellie couldn’t imagine anyone thinking Patti plain. At six feet tall, with killer cheekbones, smoky hazel-green eyes, and a smile men swooned over, she was striking, even dressed in her current outfit: tight ratty jeans, a baggy red sweater, and a pair of knee-high leather boots Ellie guessed cost more than her monthly mortgage.
“Mind answering a question for me?”
“For you, my baby’s number one caregiver?” Patti nuzzled nose to nose with Cheech. “Anything.”
“Do you ever get to keep the clothes you wear in these photographs?”
Patti laughed as she sat on the sofa and gave Rudy’s ears a rub. “Once in a while. Why, do you want to borrow something?”
“Me? Borrow something that fits you?” Ellie grinned. “I don’t think so.”
Janice took that moment to enter, carrying her own Chihuahua. “Hey, Ellie, what’s up?”
“Jan, please tell our friend here how great she looks. If I could eat, I’d want a figure just like hers.”
“I believe the operative phrase is ‘if I could eat,’ ” Janice, her petite sister, responded. “What did you have so far today? Three cups of black coffee and half a bagel?” She screwed her doll-like face into a pout. “I worry about you. Who’s going to take care of you in Madrid?”
“You’re going to Madrid?” Ellie had always wanted to see Spain, but aside from their week-long honeymoon in Jamaica the D had never taken her away for more than a long weekend, no matter the time of year. “That’s great.”
“I think so, too,” Patti answered, ignoring her sister’s pointed question. “But it’s only for three days. I’ll be back on Wednesday night, which means you can return the boys after their Thursday morning walk.”
“Forgive me for being nosy, Jan, but where will you be while Patti’s in Spain?”
“LA,” said the singer. “I’m interviewing a couple of songwriters to decide if they’ve written anything that fits the theme of my first album. Jackson’s flying with me, so I won’t be alone on the big bad West Coast.”
Ellie had met Jackson Hall, Janice’s manager, a few times since she’d begun walking Cheech and Chong, and he’d made no secret of the fact that he wasn’t a dog lover. Consequently, she and Rudy didn’t think much of the man. “Where are you staying?”
“I don’t have a clue. Jackson made all the arrangements. He always does. I’m lucky to have him.”
“You mean, he’s lucky to have you,” Patti said, wrinkling her nose. “His other clients can’t hold a candle to you in the talent department.”
“You’re just saying that because you love me. Jackson gave up managing several singers to take full charge of my career.”
“So he says,” Patti reminded her. “I still think you should run a background check on him, talk to a few of his former clients, too. You don’t know what kind of skeletons might be lurking in his closet.”
Janice turned to Ellie. “What do you think?”
Ellie gave her a blank look. “I don’t have the faintest idea, but your sister makes sense. Maybe you should do some research. Especially since you’ll be alone with him for the next week.”
“No worry there,” Janice answered. “Jackson’s gay, so I’ll be safe.”
“There are more ways to be in danger from a man than sexual,” Patti pronounced. “He might steer you to a lousy song writer or convince you to buy a crappy tune from someone who’s giving him a kickback. And don’t let him bring you to any of those outrageous Hollywood parties. I hear they’re a hotbed of drugs and debauchery. Next thing, pictures of you naked will show up on the Internet, and he’ll claim it’s great publicity.”
“You’re warning me away from celebrity parties? You, who sometimes attend festivities with Kate Moss?” Janice rolled her eyes. “I may be younger, but I can take care of myself.”
“Okay.” Patti sighed. “But do me a favor. Let my lawyer study any contract before you sign. Fax it to Jacob, and he’ll give you his expert legal opinion.”
Janice shrugged. “Anything, if it’ll get you off my case.”
Patti spoke to Ellie. “I made a dozen calls, got advice from models and their agents, and I read the in-depth report I was sent by an attorney organization before I hired Jacob Brenner. I even had him investigated by a private detective, just to be on the safe side.”
“A private detective?” Ellie asked, impressed.
Patti buffed her fingernails on her faded sweater. “You bet. When I found out how much that type of attorney charged, I made sure I was going to get my money’s worth. Jackson is taking twenty percent of Jan’s paycheck plus royalties in a couple of different capacities. She should be positive he’s earning every penny.”
“You do make sense.” Maybe she could use this Jacob guy to help untangle the mess with Gary’s will. It would give h
er an excuse not to meet with that lawyer Viv kept trying to introduce her to.
“As an attorney for people in the entertainment field, he’s the best,” the supermodel added.
Oo-kay, scratch Jacob, Ellie decided. She was as far from being in the entertainment field as her ex was from being a faithful husband. “Are the boys ready to go?”
“They’re ready,” said Jan, hugging Chong to her chest. “I’m going to miss my little man.”
“Oh, brother.”
Ellie ignored Rudy’s whine. “I take it their gear is in the foyer? Shall I call the doorman, or can one of you lend a hand?”
“I’ll do it,” said Jan. “Patti’s still packing.”
“A girl needs her supplies.” Patti gave Cheech a final kiss, and passed him over to her sister.
Janice snapped a leash on each Chihuahua’s rhinestone-studded collar and led them to the door. She then commandeered the tote bag while Ellie grabbed the beds and Rudy’s lead, and they rode the elevator to the lobby.
“Have a great time in LA,” Ellie told her while the doorman hailed a cab. “I want to hear all the Hollywood gossip when you get back.”
“You know, that might be fun. Come over and have dinner. The three boys can have a play date, and maybe you can convince Patti to eat more than a couple of lettuce leaves.”
“I don’t want no stinkin’ play date with them illegals,” Rudy gruffed. “A guy’s nothin’ without his ethics.”
Ellie stored Cheech and Chong’s belongings in the kitchen pantry, put out fresh water, and gave each of the dogs a chew treat. “I’ll be back later, and we’ll go on a nice long walk,” she promised. “Be good, okay?”
The little guys latched onto their treats, climbed into their beds, and curled up obediently. Neither one had said a word to her since she’d started walking them a few months ago, but Ellie assumed they understood her, unless . . .
“Now you’re gettin’ it,” Rudy said, following her to the door. “They don’t communicate with you because they no habla English, just like I said.”
“Puh-leeze. Go take that nap you’ve been yapping about. We’ll talk more when I get back from Bloomingdale’s.”
“Just make sure to buy something your mother will approve of, because I swear I’m gonna bite her if she makes another nasty comment about your clothes.”
Fighting a grin, Ellie narrowed her gaze. “Nip Georgette’s ankle and I guarantee it’ll be the last visit you make to her penthouse.”
“Is that a promise?”
“I don’t have to promise. If you bite Mother, she’ll never let me forget it. And if that happens, I’ll see to it you suffer as much as I do.” She opened the door and hoisted her tote bag over her shoulder. “Now go to sleep. And leave those two Chihuahuas alone.”
A half hour later, she walked through the pricy department store flipping through racks of expensive and, to her way of thinking, unattractive clothes. Why was everything cut for the size-four figure when the average size of the American woman was a fourteen? And since when had “fashionable” become the code word for uncomfortable?
Rudy had been correct when he’d groused about her mother. Georgette always found fault with her clothing, no matter how perfect Ellie thought her outfit. And though her mother might have approved if she bought designer originals, she would never accept the fact that her daughter wore a double-digit dress size.
Searching through the various departments, she finally found mix and match ready-to-wear made of natural linen fabric in bright colors with a flattering cut. After buying several pieces, she made her way outside, where she caught a cab for home. She’d promised Rudy and the Chihuahuas a long walk, and she couldn’t disappoint her pal or her charges.
Ellie spent the night going over the Internet articles she’d found on Gary. Reading the stories depressed her, but she couldn’t seem to get the sad tale out of her mind. What kind of son would kill his parents, and do it with his younger brother watching? And how had Gary felt as the key witness in a trial that would put his brother away for thirty years?
She went to bed after walking the dogs, exhausted from worrying and still wondering what Gary might have left them in his will. She couldn’t wait for Monday, the day she would stop in the bank and check out that safety-deposit box.
“You thinkin’ about my inheritance?” Rudy asked from his place on the pillow next to her.
“You’re reading my mind again, or pretending to, and it creeps me out. So stop it.”
He yawned, then gave a doggie shrug. “It’s not my fault we have a special bond. Besides, you should be thinking about what Gary left us. It could be something great.”
“Uh-huh. Dream on, big boy. Now, good night. We’ll talk more tomorrow.”
The next morning, when she said good-bye to the Chihuahuas, they simply stared, giving credence to Ru dy’s theory.
“See. What’d I tell you? They don’t comprende English.”
“Maybe they’re still insecure around us, or they miss Patti and Janice.” She gave him a look. “I’d expect you to be off your feed and missing me if I gave you to Viv without any warning.”
“Missing you, yes. Off my feed—never.”
“That could very well be the reason they’re not opening up to us now.”
“Doesn’t make sense. They don’t speak to Bruiser or Lulu or any of the other dogs, either. Can you imagine a male canine who doesn’t make small talk with Lulu?”
“That Havanese is nothing but a tease. I’m surprised you’re taken in by her feminine wiles.”
“She’s got a right to be picky. She’s a dish. Told me she’s earned enough points to compete at some big whoop-dedo dog show this November and she intends to win.”
“She thinks she can make it at a national competition?” The forecast sounded exactly like something Lulu would say. “Well, I agree she’s a cutie, but her attitude is a little too femme fatale for me. Be careful before you lose your heart. Being in love with someone who doesn’t feel the same way about you can be a devastating blow to your ego.”
“Then it’s a good thing you found out about the dime store detective before things went too far, huh?”
“Exactly,” she muttered. “I have so many more important things on my mind right now, I don’t have five free minutes to even think about Sam.” Which was a partial truth, because she did need Sam if she wanted more official information about Gary. Were there any distant family members who should be made aware of his death, and was it the police’s job to notify them or hers? And what about his brother in prison? Would he want to know that Gary had died?
They took Fifth to Seventy-second, turned right, and kept walking to cross Madison and ended up on Park, where they entered Georgette’s high-rise. As usual, Orlando was at the door. “Ms. Engleman,” he said, tipping his hat as they passed.
Did the man ever sleep? “Orlando, you on duty again?”
“Yes, miss.”
“I thought the union saw to it you had regular days off?” She headed for the elevator. “Like normal people.”
“I do what I have to, miss.”
The doors closed, and they rode to the top floor. Orlando was either the most dedicated doorman in the city or a ghoul. How could anyone be on duty twenty hours a day and still be polite and professional? Her mother thought he was a saint, but Georgette said that about most of the service people with whom she dealt. Then again, they’d have to be on the list for canonization to keep her mother happy, so maybe the man was a Gandhi clone.
She eyed her reflection in the elevator mirror, straightened the collar on her new, gauzy white blouse, tugged at the hem of her bright yellow linen vest, and smoothed the front of her beige linen slacks. The tailored vest hugged her waist, imparting an illusion of slimness. She’d added peach lip gloss to her mouth, a sweep of mascara to her lashes, and a dab of styling gel to her corkscrew curls. Just let her mother find fault with her mode of dress today.
“Corinna,” Ellie said, clasping the ex
pert housekeeper’s hand when she opened the door. “How are you?”
“If it isn’t Ms. Ellie and her faithful companion.” Shaking her head, Corinna grinned. “And lookin’ good, I might add.” The woman stooped and ruffled Rudy’s ears. “Come on in. The guests are waiting.”
Guests? A knot of concern twisted in Ellie’s stomach. Though she’d gotten the impression this would be a private affair, she knew her mother’s semimonthly brunches were popular with a group of residents living on the Upper East Side. Yes, Georgette had reminded her daughter to dress appropriately instead of appearing in the clothes Ellie wore for her job, but that was her mother’s usual order. It hadn’t caused any alarm bells to ring . . . until now.
When she heard muffled voices coming from the direction of the living room, she dropped to a squat and held Rudy’s muzzle. “I don’t like the sound of this, so please be on your best behavior.”
“I’ll try, but I’m not promising anything.”
After smoothing his fur, she stood and headed toward the clamor. Surrounded by the smell of bacon and a variety of other pleasant aromas, she hoped that Corinna had prepared her phenomenal blueberry French toast or perfect eggs Benedict. She could handle small talk with the upper crust if sampling the housekeeper’s delectable culinary offerings was her reward.
“My darling daughter, there you are,” said Georgette. Wearing an elegant, pale blue Carolina Her rera morning gown, she glided across the room on her size six Manolos and air-kissed her daughter’s cheeks. Then she stepped back and inspected Ellie’s outfit with practiced eyes. “We’ve just been talking about you.”
Ellie figured the non-comment about her clothes was a good thing, and looked past her mother’s shoulder into a corner of the room. Seated on chairs was an unfamiliar older couple speaking with Georgette’s latest husband, Judge Stanley Frye, while beside them stood a tall younger man.
“I wish you’d told me there would be guests.”
“I didn’t tell you because I was afraid you wouldn’t come.”
“That’s probably true.” Ellie jerked her chin. “So, who are they?”
