by Rayna Morgan
They went to a table on the patio.
Lea watched Suzanne add cream and sugar to her coffee. “Three strudels, cream and sugar. Don’t you worry about calories?”
“Oh, I’m not eating the other pastries. One is for Cheryl and one is for…”
Suzanne blushed and twisted a napkin.
“Don’t be embarrassed,” Lea said. “I noticed the attention you get from Sal.”
“He’s hot, don’t you think?” The girl turned a deeper shade of red. “I guess not. You’re married.”
Lea smiled. “Being married doesn’t mean losing appreciation for a good-looking member of the opposite sex.”
“Sure, I get it. When you’re married, you just don’t do anything about it.”
Lea smiled again. “Most of us don’t.”
“I bet marriage wouldn’t cramp Nolan’s style.”
“Is he a flirt?”
“Totally.”
“Has he made advances toward you?”
“I threatened to tell Rod.”
“Does he make your work environment uncomfortable?”
She shook her head. “Nolan is harmless. His problem is an over-sized ego.”
“So I’ve heard. How do he and Cheryl get along?”
“They don’t. Their personalities clash something fierce.”
“What about Rod? Do Nolan and Rod work well together?”
“Rod thinks the world of Nolan.” She looked around. “Don’t tell Rod, but the feeling isn’t mutual.”
The clerk brought two plates and a white paper bag.
“Enjoy,” he said and walked away.
Suzanne bit into the warm strudel before continuing. “I doubt Nolan thinks highly of anyone other than himself.”
“You aren’t the only one with that opinion.”
Lea turned to the topic she wished to discuss. “Besides being hot, your boyfriend seems more outgoing than his cousin.”
“Juan is too serious,” Suzanne complained. “He always complains about Sal wasting time talking to me. Maybe because of what happened when they grew up. Sal told me all about it.”
“I know the story. With Juan’s help, it sounds like Sal has turned out all right.”
“I think Sal is better than all right,” the girl gushed.
“How serious is your relationship?”
“We’ll get married as soon as we have money for a place of our own.”
Lea drove the girl back to the office. “Tell Rod I’ll call tomorrow.”
“Sure thing. Thanks for the coffee.”
Lea watched Suzanne go inside.
How anxious is Sal to get enough money to marry his girlfriend?
If Juan discovered his cousin engaged in illegal activity, what would he do?
CHAPTER ELEVEN
The next day, Warren took the dogs for another walk. On a hunch, he returned to the skateboard park.
He sat on a bench in the picnic area and unleashed the dogs.
Spirit rolled in the grass, staining his white fur. Gracie ran from one tree to the next sniffing for traces of other dogs.
Several girls walked toward the park, giggling and taking pictures of each other.
The tallest girl stood out.
This time, the long-legged girl wore a shiny ornament in her hair.
After putting Spirit in the car, he leashed Gracie and walked toward the girls.
One girl rushed toward them, and the others crowded around. “What a beautiful dog. May we pet her?”
When the tall girl stood beside him to snap a picture, Warren admired her hairpiece. Her eyes glistened with pride as she twirled in front of him.
“My boyfriend gave me this necklace. It’s too small to wear around my neck but it’s pretty in my hair, don’t you think?”
“Very nice. Unfortunately, your boyfriend had no right to give it to you. It’s a collar he took from a dog.”
“Ew.” Her hand flew to the top of her head. “I’m wearing a dog collar?”
Her friends burst into laughter.
“Where is your boyfriend?” Warren asked. “I need to speak with him.”
She looked worried. “Is he in trouble?”
“Tell him he can speak with me or to the police.”
Her eyes widened.
They both turned at the sound of skateboard wheels rolling on concrete.
She ran to her boyfriend and gestured toward Warren as she spoke.
Instead of returning with her, he grabbed his board and ran in the opposite direction.
“Danny!” she screamed.
Gracie yelped with excitement.
“You’ve got to be kidding!” Warren groaned. “I’m too old for this.”
He unleashed the barking dog and pointed at the fleeing youth.
“Go get him, girl.”
• • •
The youth tripped and sprawled on the ground.
Gracie stood inches from his head, barking and preventing him from rising.
“Call off your dog,” the boy cried.
Warren leaned over to catch his breath. “Okay, girl, back off. I’ve got this.”
Gracie took a place at the man’s side.
The boy scrambled up, brushing dirt from his shirt and jeans.
“Why did you sic your dog on me?”
“Why did you run?”
The boy looked for his girlfriend.
“She can’t help, Danny. A lost dog wore the collar. Either you took the collar from the dog or you found the collar by itself. Either way, you should have called the number on the tag.”
The boy looked sullen. “It was my girl’s birthday. I didn’t have money to buy her a gift. I figured a dog don’t need somethin’ fancy like that.”
“I agree with you, but you had no right to steal.” He looked toward the girl. “She knows the collar you gave her belongs to a dog.”
“You told her?”
“I had no choice. Don’t worry. She understands it’s the thought that counts.”
Warren laid a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “Do yourself a favor and stay out of trouble. That’s the best gift you can give her.”
• • •
Warren arrived for dinner carrying files under his arm.
Barbara met him at the door. “I hope you didn’t bring work home with you.”
He dropped the files in the study and followed her to the kitchen.
“With the canine matter resolved, I can focus on Sam’s case.”
“I don’t want you to push too hard. You were just learning to relax.”
“Lea and Maddy in the business of sleuthing and relaxation are incompatible concepts.”
“I’m afraid Paul and Tom would agree.”
She stirred a pot on the stove.
“Half an hour until we eat. Get the cards. I’ll fix your drink.”
Moments later, she set a glass on the table beside him and watched him shuffle the cards.
“Do you regret getting involved with the agency?”
“Not for a minute.”
“Lea gets it from you, you know.”
“Don’t blame me,” he argued, but she knew the idea pleased him.
“I’m not complaining. I’m proud of all of you. No doubt, I’ll survive a few more years of you pacing the floor in the middle of the night.”
She reached across the table to press his hand.
“But I hate to think we made a mistake moving here. Would you have stayed retired in San Diego?”
“Retirement isn’t a place. It’s a frame of mind.” He winked at her. “Even on Bali, I’d be tracking down a coconut thief.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
Maddy drove north to an area popular with boating, beach, and wine enthusiasts. Vista Harbor combined beautiful mountains on one side and gorgeous beaches on the other.
The plastic surgery center was located on a bluff outside town. The secluded location obviated going somewhere patients might be seen and provided the comfort of knowing visitors were there for the same rea
son.
Those benefits were wasted on Maddy, who sat in the parking lot having second thoughts. But Lea and her father trusted her with the assignment. It was important to prove herself up to the task.
After smoothing her hair and her body-hugging dress, she walked inside.
The soothing ambiance of the reception area and a friendly welcome by the woman at the front desk put Maddy at ease.
“How may I help?” the receptionist asked.
Maddy pointed to a sign on the wall.
Helping you attain the look you desire with natural looking results.
“I guess that’s me. I have an appointment with Dr. Grant.”
“The doctor will be with you shortly.”
She walked around the room, studying before-and-after photos on the wall. Differences were hard to discern in many of the pictures. Maddy wondered if the changes were worth the risk of surgery and the time and money spent. To her thinking, it seemed an exercise in conforming to other people’s expectations. She preferred compliments on ability rather than beauty. To her, character counted more than appearance.
Her acting skills would be tested if she were to convince the doctor that looks were vital to her self-esteem.
• • •
A young woman wearing a white uniform walked into the reception area and called Maddy’s name.
“I’m Angie, the patient coordinator. After I get some information, I’ll take you to meet the doctor.”
The woman led her past a courtyard filled with flowers to a tastefully furnished office. The setting was designed for tranquility, but Maddy felt anything but calm.
“Is this your first experience with plastic surgery?” Angie asked.
“I’m a little nervous. Can you tell?”
“Good for you for taking the plunge. You will look better and younger, and feel more confident.”
Scripted words, deftly delivered, but does Angie think I need to look better and younger? Maddy wondered.
Looking at a picture of a Grecian goddess on the wall, she observed, “With regard to confidence, any woman who compares herself to perfection may feel herself lacking.”
Her comment was lost on Angie with the ever-present smile. “Fill out this form and we’ll get started.”
Maddy accepted the clipboard and completed the questionnaire.
As Angie entered the data in her computer, Maddy’s gaze hovered over more pictures on the wall.
Still, I wouldn’t mind having a nose like that. She mentally kicked herself. That’s not my reason for being here.
“Dr. Grant will be ready shortly. Do you have any questions?”
“Tell me about the doctor. I researched his credentials on the internet, but I need to feel he’s the best man for the job.”
“You can’t go wrong with Dr. Grant,” the woman assured her. “With his experience, he’s considered a master in the field.”
“You’re not old enough to have worked for him long.”
She smiled. “That’s flattering, but I’m probably older than you think. Botox injections help. But you’re right. I was hired when he moved his practice from San Diego and opened the clinic.”
“You seem to enjoy your job.”
“I couldn’t be happier.” She beamed. “Our clients are great and the atmosphere couldn’t be better. The doctor himself is wonderful. So patient and instructional. I’m learning a lot from him.”
“Did any of his employees follow him from San Diego?”
“His staff there was a single assistant who covered a lot of bases. Now, he has a staff of six medical and office personnel.”
“That’s a common occurrence. One generalist position gets divided between specialists.”
Angie laughed. “Or taken over by robots.”
“Does his previous assistant work at this facility?”
“At the time, she had no interest in moving from San Diego. From what the doctor tells us, she recently moved to Buena Viaje and got a job at the hospital.”
Maddy made a mental note to track down the assistant as a source of information.
She looked out the window at palm trees swaying in the breeze. “You’re lucky, Angie. I can’t imagine a more beautiful place to work.”
Angie sighed. “I hope I never have to leave.”
A light on her console lit up. “The doctor is ready.”
• • •
He was even more handsome in person than pictures on social media, but not with the natural, rugged good looks that appealed to Maddy. His features were flawless, nearly perfect, as though he had undergone the same procedures as his patients.
After offering her a seat, he studied her face from several angles.
“You don’t look like a woman in need of cosmetic surgery.”
His scrutiny made her uncomfortable. She knew she must convince him.
“You’re being kind, Doctor, but seeing myself in a mirror makes me unhappy. It’s my nose. I hope you won’t think me petty, but my sister has the most perfect nose. Slightly upturned and perfectly proportioned to the rest of her face. I want one like hers.”
He inspected his hands with the bored expression of hearing a familiar story. “Your face gives no reason to be unhappy, but I understand.”
Lifting a pen, he pointed to his computer. “Let me explain how things work.”
After providing information on procedures and pricing, he summed up his pitch.
“Of course, I can’t guarantee you will be happy with the results. But if you allow me to toot my own horn, I’m known for achieving remarkably natural outcomes.”
“You’re certainly the talk of the cocktail circuit.”
The flattery seemed to please him.
She saw a photo on his desk of a stunning beauty. It gave her the opening she needed.
“If your wife is an example of your handiwork, I’m sold. She’s lovely.”
“That’s not my wife. Sadly, she passed away years ago.”
“Me and my big mouth.”
He lowered his head. “That was years ago. At times, it seems like yesterday.” He rubbed a nonexistent wrinkle on his brow. “My wife was one of the few women I’ve known unconcerned about appearance. She had anxiety about other things, but never about her looks.”
When he looked up, his eyes were unreadable.
After a moment, he held up the picture. “Happier days are on my horizon. I will be married soon.”
Dad wouldn’t approve my next move, but I’m determined to learn the truth about this man.
“In that case, I won’t be so bold as to invite you for a drink.”
He studied her closely as he tapped his pen.
Have I gone too far and blown my cover?
His slick smile affirmed her bold move.
“I’m not married yet, just engaged.” He winked and her stomach churned.
A voice came over the speaker on his desk. “I’m leaving, Doctor. Do you need further assistance?”
He looked at Maddy and winked.
“I have everything I need, nurse. Enjoy your evening.”
The door closed.
She was alone with the doctor.
An unsettling feeling engulfed her.
He turned to Maddy. “Now, what were you saying about buying me a drink?”
“I’m giving you a chance to convince me to undergo the procedure you described. I’ve never had surgery. In fact, I rarely take an aspirin. The thought of anesthesia terrifies me.”
He smiled sympathetically. “I welcome the opportunity. There’s a place down the road with the best oyster bar in the county. Shall we take my car?”
Grasping for an excuse to avoid being alone with him, she pointed at his computer.
“You need time to close up. I’ll meet you there.”
“Good. Do you know the Cliff House?”
A restaurant beyond my price range, but I can’t let him know.
“Of course. I’ll see you shortly.”
“I look forward to p
utting your mind at ease.”
His smugness made her feel vulnerable.
She doubted anything he said would put her mind at ease.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Jack stepped to the counter at the Buena Viaje police station.
He looked around while the officer on duty talked to a boy reporting a stolen bicycle. His eyes traveled to a woman at the copy machine.
Her back was turned, giving Jack a chance to admire her stately, toned physique. She wore tight black pants, ankle boots, and a cropped leather jacket.
The boy left and Jack turned his attention to the clerk. “I’m looking for Tom. Tom Elliot.”
The woman looked over her shoulder.
“The lieutenant isn’t here,” the duty officer responded.
“That’s too bad. I was hoping to see him.”
The woman moved to the counter. “May I help? I work with Lieutenant Elliot.”
He smiled at her and she smiled back.
She had girl-next-door looks with short blond hair and unblemished skin set off by razor sharp eyes which didn’t miss a thing.
“It’s a personal matter,” he said.
“Most things of a criminal nature are.”
“Nothing like that. I’m his brother.”
She barely concealed her surprise. “I didn’t know Tom had a brother.”
He smiled easily and held out a hand. “Jack Elliot. In the flesh.”
She reached across the counter. “Detective Pat Fisher.”
“Hello, Pat. Glad to meet you.”
Her fingers tingled at the touch of his hand. For a moment, she was lost in his liquid eyes.
“I’ll tell him you were here. Does he have your number?”
An amused look spread across his face.
“Tom thinks he has my number, but he doesn’t know the first thing about me.”
He turned and walked away, leaving her breathless.
She respected the lieutenant’s desire to keep his personal life private. Nevertheless, she wanted to see his brother again.
• • •
As one brother approached the exit, the other brother entered.
“Jack, what are you doing here?”
Tom’s tone was cordial, but wary. He embraced his brother with a one-arm hug.
“I’m in town,” Jack said. “Thought I should come by to say hello.”
“Was that your SUV parked outside my apartment?”
