Divas, Diamonds & Death: a Danger Cove Pet Sitter Mystery (Danger Cove Mysteries Book 15)

by Sally J. Smith

  "No," he wheezed. "Not at all. Even though I wasn't present during this transaction, the consequences of purchasing stolen property will very likely fall back on me. This is terrible."

  We let him pace for several minutes until he settled down.

  When the manager finally stopped pacing, Tino was the first to speak. "You weren't present when the collar was brought in?"

  Khadir shook his head.

  Jimmy John spoke next. "Mr. Bhandari, when was that?"

  "If my memory serves me, Monday afternoon. I can check the sales log for the exact time. The clerk had called me at home to ask whether the price he'd set was within reason. I approved the purchase." He hung his head. "A foolish thing to do."

  "Did you report it to the police?" I asked.

  Now he nodded. "Our daily report was sent to the appropriate authorities as required."

  Tino spoke up. "Appropriate authorities?"

  "We're under the jurisdiction of the county. They have the report of the purchase. Such as it is."

  "And the guy who brought it in?" Jimmy John asked.

  "It was a woman," Khadir said.

  It was a long beat before anyone spoke then finally I said, "A woman? You're sure?"

  Poor Khadir looked so dismal, I felt compelled to ask again, "Are you sure you're all right, Mr. Bhandari?"

  He lifted his hands in a helpless gesture. "It had been a long weekend for me, as I was suffering disastrous gastrointestinal effects from the curry my mother-in-law had cooked." He shook his head. "Sometimes I think that mean old woman does these things on purpose."

  We were all anxious for him to get on with his tale, so all three of our heads bobbed in unison.

  "I wasn't able to come into the store on Monday. The fool who was here neglected to follow procedure and obtain a photo ID and contact information even though I reminded him. However, he did make an entry in the log." Khadir went back to a computer and opened a screen.

  "Well, that's good," I said.

  "Not really. This is basically the information he entered into Monday's purchase log." Khadir read the entry. "A twenty-inch diamond collar purchased at two forty-eight p.m. in the amount of $7,200 cash to one Angelina Jolie."

  "No way," Tino said.

  "That's right," Khadir said. "No way. All the more reason this idiot was fired."

  "That man who was here when the woman came in has been fired?" Jimmy John's voiced reflected my own disappointment. "Do you have his contact information?"

  "It is here somewhere." Khadir shrugged. "However, when I did the deed and sent him from the store, he told me he was leaving soon to stay with his grandmother in Saskatchewan. He may be most difficult to contact if he's already left."

  I said, "What about your security video? Could we see that?"

  If it was possible, Khadir's expression grew even more forlorn. "Alas, it has been on the fritz for almost two weeks now. The owner hasn't yet arranged for its repair. The owner of this establishment is a most"—he searched for a word—"frugal gentlemen. There is no video of the purchase."

  "A false name given with no photo ID or address," I said. "No video. Then it's all about the witness."

  Jimmy John said, "We'll be needing the address for that store clerk you fired."

  Bhandari began to type again, and within a minute or two the printer across the room began to hum then to print. Bhandari went to it, pulled off a sheet, and handed it to Tino—after all, he was the one with the badge, which would have made him the most official of our little group, at least in the manager's eyes.

  "This is the address," he told Tino.

  "Thank you for this," Tino said, looking down. "Hmm. The guy lives in Danger Cove."

  Jimmy John said. "Yes, thanks, Mr. Bhandari. I hope things work out okay for you here. I'm betting your boss isn't going to be too happy about the purchase of an extremely expensive piece like this that you're just going to have to turn around and hand over to the police. FYI. It's the Danger Cove police who're looking for this piece, and we'll be calling them right away to tell them we've located it."

  Poor dejected Khadir Bhandari. Things weren't looking up for him at all.

  We went out to Tino's car and waited while Jimmy John put in a call to his friend, Detective Bud Ohlsen, explaining that we'd located the diamond collar and where it could be found.

  Jimmy disconnected the call and turned around to me in the back seat. "The PD will be heading out here to pick up the collar."

  "Jimmy John?"

  "Mmm?"

  "Why didn't you tell him the collar was brought in by a woman?"

  He chewed his lower lip a couple of beats before he said, "We don't have even as much as a description of this person, so I didn't want to give him any preconceived notions. The police can do at least some of the legwork on their own."

  Tino said, "And we're all pretty sure it wasn't Angelina Jolie, right?"

  Jimmy John just gave him a sideways look. "Yeah, pretty sure." He went quiet.

  I knew what he was thinking. There was only one woman we could connect to Carlos Ramirez, namely his ex-wife, the Critter Communicator, Sabrina. But no one in her right mind would pawn her own $30,000 diamond collar for $7,200. So it was pretty obvious we were definitely looking for two different breeds of swine: a killer and a thief.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  It was early evening when Tino drove us back to Danger Cove. I went straight into my apartment and brought Vader out to the fenced-in grassy pet area where I let him off leash to do his business.

  When we were done, I put Vader's leash back on, and we joined the two men.

  "Tino's gotta help his mother move some furniture tonight before he heads off to work. So he's going to handle that, and I'm going to head on over to talk to the pawnshop clerk and see if I can get anything." Jimmy John took his truck keys from his pocket, leaned over, kissed my cheek, and then walked back to his pickup.

  Tino and I stood watching him get into his old truck, waving out the window as he pulled out of the parking lot.

  "Your abuelo is a special man," Tino said. "You're very lucky to have him."

  "I am." There was no question about it.

  "I would have liked to have had a man like him in my life." Tino's father had left home when Tino was just a little boy. Tino knew nothing as to what had become of his dad after that as Mamá Morales had packed up her children and immigrated to the U.S.

  "You and your sisters turned out awesome, Tino. Your mother was enough parent to raise you all to be generous, caring, responsible human beings. Mamá Morales rocks."

  He smiled, bent, and picked up Vader, who gave him dozens of enthusiastic kisses, and the two of us walked back to my building where he left me at the door. As I'd done with Jimmy John, I watched Tino leave, missing him already, my mind wandering to the serious talk we needed to have, the talk I was dreading with all my heart. When the time came for it, I could only pray I'd have come up with a solution as to how to ease both our minds.

  On my way back up to my place, my phone rang. I looked at the screen. It was Doc Whitaker's number.

  "Hey, Doc." I answered the call, hoping he didn't need me to help him that night. It had already been a very long day.

  "Hello, Lizzie," he said. "I'm glad I caught you. Got a minute to talk?"

  As it turned out, my help was actually what he wanted but not just then—later, much later in fact, so I went back up to my place, changed into Spandex and sneakers, and took Vader out for a run—well, a run was what I called it. Vader's little legs couldn't keep up if I actually ran, so it was more like a fast walk.

  We headed up the block, Vader double-timing it to keep up. He needed the exercise, and after the last couple of days, so did I.

  We'd gone a block when we crossed the green belt that ran behind another apartment complex, leading to a nearby park. There were people everywhere in the park on this sultry summer evening—young couples pushing strollers, singles like me out with their dogs, parents watching the
ir kids running and playing. The breeze carried the faint scent of the nearby ocean and other more civilized smells like fresh cut grass and dinners cooking in nearby apartments.

  Five older women out on a power walk put me to shame with their fierce pace, passing me on the path.

  Four young boys on bikes went screaming into the parking lot of the convenience store across the street from where I stood. A car horn sounded as they peeled around the gas pump and up onto the sidewalk. Running and laughing, they pulled open the store door and went inside, passing by a woman using the outside pay phone, which I'd begun to believe in this day of the almighty smartphone was one of the last ones on the planet and should soon be archived to the Smithsonian.

  Hmm. I stopped and stared at the woman on the phone, trying to figure out why she seemed so familiar and why anyone would need to use a payphone in this day and age.

  "Who is that?" I said to myself, but Vader obviously thought I was addressing him because he immediately turned a couple of circles and made a little noise in his throat, sounding something like Scooby-Doo—Roo-rowr.

  I kept standing there until the woman hung up.

  It was weird. I didn't remember ever having seen her before, but inside my head, I kept repeating, I know her. I know her.

  Since I was out walking anyway, I rationalized there was nothing to it if I just happened to turn and walk in the same direction the woman had gone. It wasn't stalking. I wasn't actually following her. A line from Jimmy John's Rulebook popped into my head: Only gullible fools believe the lies they tell themselves. Okay. So I was stalking her, following her. I couldn't seem to help myself. Who the heck was she?

  At about five feet four or so and on the thin side, there was nothing to set the woman apart from dozens of others. She wore a pair of dark-wash jeans and a lightweight tan jacket over a white boat-neck T-shirt. Her hair was cut in a chin-length blunt bob, and in the fading light, it looked to be light brown. I wasn't close enough to get a look at her face, but there was just something about the way she'd stood by the phone, and now something about the way she walked, heading away from me.

  I followed her and turned right when she did for another block. She never looked back and neither quickened nor slowed her pace. I didn't think she realized I was back there but didn't actually care if she did. I was obsessed with knowing where I'd seen her before.

  When she went up the walkway to a building I recognized right away, I knew who she was. I knew why she looked familiar and also why I hadn't been able to recognize her to start with.

  The building was in one of Jack Condor's low-rent apartment complexes, one of those the town had negotiated with the unethical real estate developer a few months ago to help out the homeless.

  And now I also knew who the woman was—Dottie Holmes. But not any Dottie Holmes I knew. This woman was clean and groomed and…oops…she turned around.

  I ducked behind a bush.

  She stood still by the front entrance to the building looking around as if she might have heard me. I waited quietly, unsure why I didn't want her to see me—if for nothing else, maybe because I was embarrassed I'd been following her around. Nobody wants to get caught doing that.

  The post lights by the entrance illuminated her face, and I took out my phone, zoomed in, and took a shot of her. I'd have to show this to Fran. She wouldn't believe it either. Dottie Holmes sure did clean up good. She must have finally taken the position offered to her by the Pohokes, or maybe some other person hired her.

  Intent on speaking to her, I picked up Vader and started out from behind the bush, but before I'd even taken more than a couple of steps, she pulled a key from her bag and opened the security gate to the apartment building. So, she'd even been able to re-establish residence in her old building.

  "Well, good for her," I whispered.

  Vader seemed to agree, wiggling and tail-wagging in my arms.

  I set him back on the ground and continued on with my walk a ways. Just as I was turning to head back, my cell phone rang.

  "Hey, Jimmy John," I answered. "What's up?"

  "Nothing good," he said tiredly. "I just left the clerk from Bucks Galore—barely caught him, too. He's packing for Canada, gonna leave tomorrow."

  "Good timing," I said. "Was he any help?"

  "Just like we thought. The woman he bought Rosie's diamond collar from wasn't Sabrina unless she was wearing a brown wig and had dressed down. Skinny. Pretty dowdy. Had a mouth on her."

  "Hmm."

  "Says he was nervous about the collar since the manager wasn't there that day, and he'd never taken in a piece that flashy before—says he was jumpy about the transaction, but vouched for it when he called the manager for the okay to buy it. The woman wasn't anything special, but he didn't think she looked like a thief. He's ticked off they fired him. Says Angelina Jolie isn't all that unusual a name. Says anybody could've made that mistake. So now he's leaving for Saskatchewan to look for a job up there."

  I'd arrived back in front of the apartment building I'd seen Dottie Holmes go into. I stopped suddenly and caught Vader off guard. He pulled up in surprise. "Sorry," I said.

  "About what?" Jimmy John asked.

  "Nothing. It's just that something's occurred to me…but it doesn't make a lot of sense."

  He waited quietly until I went on. "I just saw Dottie Holmes, looking pretty prosperous, let herself into one of Jack Condor's skeezy buildings."

  "And?"

  "Dottie Holmes? You know—brunette, skinny, dowdy, with a mouth on her?"

  "Oh."

  "And when I spoke to Aaron and Sarah on Monday, they said Dottie never showed up for work. So for her to have new duds and a roof back over her head, either someone else gave her a job and an advance to go along with it, a relative died and left her money, or—"

  "Maybe she has a sugar daddy."

  Too bad Jimmy John wasn't with me to see the outrageous eye roll that remark caused. "Yeah. Right. A sugar daddy. Dottie? That's probably it."

  "Just sayin'." His verbal shrug said he knew I was being sarcastic.

  I said, "I was going to say, she may have come into money by finding a diamond pig collar on the beach and then selling it at Bucks Galore. I mean, come on, Jimmy John. It's possible, isn't it? And if it was Dottie, she could have seen who killed Carlos. She may be the key to solving this murder."

  "There is another possibility," Jimmy John said slowly.

  I looked up. "Gotta go," I said as Dottie Holmes came back to the security gate. "She's coming. I think I'll talk to her."

  "Lizzie, wait—" was all I heard before I hung up.

  While I watched Dottie messing with the lock on the gate, I moved Vader over onto a grassy spot and stood tapping my toe, pretending to be waiting for him to find the choicest spot for doing puppy business.

  Dottie finally got the gate unlocked and was coming back down the sidewalk toward me.

  "Is that Dottie?" I said, trying my best to sound surprised to see her.

  She stopped walking and peered at me in the semi-darkness. "It's Lizzie, right? You work at Second Chance with Fran?"

  "That's right," I said. "How are you? You look great, and are you back to living in this building again?"

  She threw a look over her shoulder at the apartment complex. "Yes. Just moved in, but I won't be staying. Pretty sure I'm gonna blow this burg."

  "So how do you like working for Aaron and Sarah?" I asked.

  She frowned. "Who?"

  "The Pohokes. You're working for them now, aren't you?"

  "Oh. No. Didn't take the job."

  My turn. "Oh." I just let it hang there.

  I had no idea what to say next. Should I ask her if she'd found Rosie's collar, if it was she who'd sold it for over $7,000 to the pawnshop out by the casino?

  Only one way to find out. I opened my mouth to ask when I happened to look down as Vader took a pull on his leash. That's when I noticed what Dottie was wearing on her feet, and I decided maybe I wouldn't ask her about Rosie's
collar after all—at least not until I had a chance to analyze all this.

  She caught me looking at her feet. "Yep," she said. "New boots. You like?"

  I nodded dumbly.

  She scrunched up her face, obviously puzzled at my sudden nervousness. "Well, good talkin' to you. Gotta go. I'm actually heading over to the Gas 'n' Guzzle to use the phone. I'm going to call Fran and tell her I'm coming back for my dog. You don't think she's adopted him out yet, do you?

  Still stunned by the shoes, I couldn't seem to put two words together. "I…"

  When I couldn't continue, she shook her head like it was a waste of time talking to such an idiot. "Well, see ya." She walked off in the direction of the convenience store where I'd first seen her.

  I pulled my phone back out of my pocket and dialed Jimmy John.

  "Yep?" he answered.

  "Where are you?" I asked.

  "Headin' home," he said.

  "I never got the chance to ask Dottie about why she's suddenly doing so well, but she's going out to Fran's. I'll catch up to her there. I really think she may be the key to solving this case."

  "I don't think you—"

  "Jimmy John," I interrupted him. "Dottie Holmes is wearing Doc Martens. That puts her on the beach that night. I bet she knows something."

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  Vader and I arrived back at Hazlitt Heights, and I'd taken a quick walk-through shower. I grabbed my keys from the table, went straight downstairs, and auto-dialed Fran as I took the stairs in double time.

  When she answered, I huffed out, "Fran, Dottie Holmes is going to be calling you to ask about taking Doogie back."

  "Oh, yeah. She's going to come by later to pick him up all right. I told her she was pretty lucky a friendly, good-looking guy like Doogie hadn't already been adopted out. Told her the TV star even had her eye on him and—"

  I interrupted her. "Fran, listen, please. Dottie seems to have come into some money, maybe a lot of money. Maybe money from Rosie's collar. Dottie's back in her old place and all cleaned up now."

  "Dottie Holmes is all cleaned up now? I bet that's a sight."