by Sparkle Abby
I pulled out onto Forest and headed for the Mobil station on PCH. Just as I turned onto Beach Street, I noted the flashing lights in the rearview mirror. I pulled over so the police car could pass. The blue and white car and its flashing lights pulled in behind me.
What the heck?
The officer came to my window. “Ma’am, are you aware you have a broken taillight?”
“No, I wasn’t aware. The truck isn’t mine. It’s a friend’s. I’ll be sure to let her know.”
“I need to see your license and registration, ma’am.”
Oh, okay, he probably needed to write me a warning. Great. I’d avoided the forty-dollar parking ticket only to get a faulty equipment ticket. I wondered what those went for.
I opened the glove box, and a large hunting knife and a box of ammo fell out.
I looked at the officer to see if he’d noticed.
He had.
“Please step out of the car, ma’am.”
“I can explain.” Even I knew how lame that sounded.
“Step out—”
“Okay, officer, I’m getting out.” I opened the door, climbed out and handed him my license. “If you would just call Detective Judd Malone.”
“Malone in homicide?” he asked. “Why, have you killed someone?”
“What? No. Do I look like a killer?”
He started to say something.
“Don’t answer that question.” I pointed my finger at him. My grimy digit within inches of Officer Gung-ho’s fresh face.
Just then my cell phone rang from inside my purse which was still in the truck. “Can I answer my phone? It’s either Malone or April Mae, the owner of the truck, wondering why I don’t have it back yet.”
“No.”
The ringing stopped and then started again immediately. So, it was probably April Mae.
“Please just contact Detective Malone. I’ve been trying to reach him.”
“Ma’am, I need you to walk back to the squad car with me.” This young guy was serious, and I couldn’t help but think this could not be going much worse.
Then worse arrived.
Malone pulled up behind the police cruiser and got out. “Officer Hostas.” He nodded to his colleague and then turned to me. “Ms. Lamont.” Then crossed his arms in typical Malone stance. “Would someone like to fill me in?”
The officer let me speak first. I explained about borrowing April’s truck, the oil leak, the discovery of the rifle, and my attempts to reach him. Officer Hostas finished up with the traffic stop.
I thought we made a great team.
“Okay, show me the rifle.” Malone addressed me.
I walked to the passenger side pulled the seat forward and moved so Malone could see. Yep, big ole rifle. Still right where I last saw it.
Malone didn’t touch it. “All right, we’re going to impound the vehicle,” he said to Officer Hostas. “You call it in.”
Detective Malone turned to me. “You and who else were in the truck?”
“Don Furry from the Laguna Animal Rescue.”
“We’ll need his fingerprints. We already have yours on file.”
The uniformed officer raised one brow and looked at me as if to say, I knew you were a criminal.
“Not because I did anything wrong,” I said. “Because they were needed to eliminate me as a suspect.”
The brow went higher. A suspect, huh? Still suspicious if you ask me.
Before I could explain away his suspicions about me, Malone interrupted. “Officer Hostas? The impound? Would you call it in?”
The young officer walked back to his car presumably to make the requested call.
“When he gets back I’m going to have him take you home. You can get your bag out of the truck.” Malone motioned to the still open door. “All you need to tell Ms. Bardot’s sister is you were stopped, the rifle was found, and I’ll be in touch.”
Officer Hostas returned from his cruiser, and Malone explained he was charged with taking me home. He still looked at me like I might be a serial killer but didn’t argue.
Don’t try anything funny. I’m keeping an eye on you. He opened the back passenger door of the squad car for me politely, but his thoughts came through loud and clear.
This was the first time I’d ever been in a police cruiser. It’s not a pleasant experience. Even in Laguna Beach where the cars are pretty new and the crimes are pretty petty, the backseat didn’t smell so good. Then there was also the fact there were no door handles. No way to let yourself out. Creepy.
The officer pulled up in my driveway, and as he did I noticed a light blue Ferrari.
Holy Crap. I’d forgotten I had a date with Sam Gallanos. Sam was there to pick me up. Right on time.
I, however, was not on time.
Sam leaned against the car seemingly enjoying the late afternoon sun. Cool and collected. Attired in lightweight tan chinos, his white linen shirt showed his tan to perfection. He looked like he’d just walked out of a magazine ad.
I was sweaty and covered in dust. I still wore my PUP T-shirt and now filthy cargo shorts. Classy. Oh, and I was arriving in a police cruiser.
Nice.
My mama would be appalled.
Heck, I was appalled.
The officer got out and opened the door for me. I thanked him for the ride and waved as he drove away.
Yeah, I was stalling.
“Hi.” Sam was right there when I turned around. He’d pushed his sunglasses up, and his dark eyes held back humor. Just barely.
I was hyper-aware I looked like something the dog wouldn’t even have bothered to drag in. Grime and dust from the loading, dog food smell from the spill, grease from checking Tom’s oil. I could not have looked or smelled worse if I’d tried.
Sam, undaunted, leaned forward and kissed me on my grimy cheek. “Complications?”
“Yeah, kind of,” I sighed. “Sam, I’m so sorry. I got caught up in, well, I—ah.” I couldn’t even put words to the afternoon I’d just spent.
“No worries. With you, Caro, there are always complications. You’re a complicated woman.” His smile said he knew there’d be an explanation in due time.
“I have to go next door and explain to April Mae why I’m not returning her truck to her.”
“Do you want me to come or wait here?”
“Oh, hell, Sam. You might as well come. It will fill in a lot without me having to say it twice.”
We trekked across my front yard to April Mae’s. I rang the bell and waited. When April Mae came to the door she was covered in paint. To be absolutely accurate, the hula girl on her T-shirt was the one covered in paint splotches. Paw-shaped splotches.
I couldn’t help but smile. “Looks like they painted you.”
“Yeah, more me than the pictures.” She giggled.
“Maybe their artistic temperaments aren’t ready to paint yet.”
“Could be, but I think the big problem is their claws. They pretty much shredded the canvas I gave them to work on.”
“Their claws should probably be trimmed. Kitty kept them pretty short. She did it herself, but if you need help I could recommend a groomer.” Yeah, I was stalling again.
April Mae looked down at her legs, covered in splotches of paints and scratches. “I think I need help. You mentioned you had a friend?”
“I’ll get you Kendall’s number,” I told her. Right after I explain that the police have your truck. And your gun. And your knife.
“That’d be great!”
“The cats are painting again,” I said to Sam.
April Mae suddenly noticed Sam behind me, and like most females there was a sudden change in her. I liken it to the heightened awareness Dogbert gets when he smells a pork chop. Or my mama g
ets when she hears there’s a sale at Neiman Marcus. Dogbert actually drools. Mama just drools internally, but the look in their eyes is the same.
“April Mae, honey, there was a problem with your truck, and the police have impounded it.” I decided I’d start with the basics.
“Who is that?” She pointed at Sam.
“That’s Sam.” I moved slightly to the side. “April Mae, my friend, Sam. Sam, April Mae Wooben, Kitty’s sister.”
She giggled and waved at him.
“Nice to meet you.” Sam kept it formal.
“April Mae, Detective Malone will be calling you in a little bit about Tom.”
“Tom?” It must have finally sunk in. She looked behind me. “But, Caro, where is Tom?”
“Tom is her truck,” I explained to Sam.
“Where is my truck?”
“That’s what I’m trying to explain, sugar.” If the girl would just focus instead of standing there like a bump on a log, drooling over Sam. “Close your mouth.”
“Huh?”
“Come on,” I said to her. “Let’s go inside for a minute.”
Tobey and Minou appeared the minute we walked into the living room. Thank God, April Mae’d had the good sense to clean them up. They’d already met Sam, so they were not as awestruck as their mistress.
Sam remembered the cats from the night Kitty’d died. He made over them, and they preened. Sam was one of those people who seemed to be comfortable anywhere. He settled into one of the chairs, and Minou situated herself on his lap.
I tried to get April Mae to focus enough for me to explain about finding the rifle, getting stopped, Laguna Beach PD impounding the truck.
At the point where I’d explained about the officer asking if I’d killed someone, I think Sam might have snorted, but like Walt, when I looked at him, he had this innocent neutral look on his face.
“So I loaned you my truck, and now it’s impounded, and they think I killed my very own sister?”
Yeah, that about summed it up. The facts had finally sunk in, and the realization had hit April Mae she had some things to clear up with the local police.
April Mae’s cell phone rang, and she jumped.
“I’m sure that will be Detective Malone with questions for you.” I said quickly. “I’m going to go home and clean up, and I’ll talk to you later.”
I headed for the front door and could hear Sam saying good-bye to April Mae as I headed out.
He’d caught up with me by the time I reached my front door.
“I’m sorry, Sam.” I brushed at my legs, which were covered in dog food dust. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to take a rain check.”
“Caro, I have an idea.” He reached past me and pushed open the door. “Let’s try this.”
I tried not to get him dirty as I ducked under his arm.
“How about I take Dogbert for a walk while you shower. I’m sure he needs some exercise.”
He was right, poor Dog had been cooped up all day.
“Just throw on something comfortable, and we’ll forgo dinner and take a little walk on the beach. Sounds like you could use a little decompression time.”
I sighed. It sounded like heaven to me. I nodded assent and headed down the hallway to clean up my look and hopefully my attitude.
When I got out of the shower, I dressed in capris, a bright flower-print jersey tank top and walking shoes. My hair was still a bit out of control, but there was no taming it in such a short time, so I simply pulled it back and tied a scarf around the ponytail. The scarf made me think of both Tonya Miles and Clive the artist.
Sam had just returned from his walk with Dogbert.
“Don’t tell him we’re going to the beach or he’ll want to go.” I laughed.
“I know. If Mac finds out I’ve been on the beach, and especially with you, my name will be mud.”
Mac was Sam’s Border Collie. A gorgeous guy in his own right, and Border Collies were a favorite of mine.
“It’s okay. I can keep a secret.” I smiled at Sam. And then realized what I’d said.
“Well, I don’t know whether or not that’s true based on what I just heard next door.”
We started at Main Beach and walked south. Sam had bought us each a frozen yogurt at Chantilly’s when he parked the car. The beach was dotted with other walkers and a few evening surfers and skimboarders.
Sam had rolled up his pant legs, and we walked at the edge of the water where we could. The sound of the surf was restful, and Sam seemed to know I needed time to sort out the chaos in my brain.
We’d gone quite a ways down the beach when I stopped.
“Ready to turn back?” he asked.
“Yes.” I was suddenly completely exhausted.
We turned back to Main Beach and once there settled on a bench.
“April Mae is going to be pretty upset with me.” I brushed at the sand on the bench.
“She put you in an awful position, Caro. She’ll have to understand you had no choice.”
“Yeah, I guess.” I’d been over all of it in my head, and I didn’t see any other options. I’d done what I thought I had to do.
“The police seem no closer to solving Kitty Bardot’s murder.” Sam stretched out his legs and leaned back against the bench, sliding his sunglasses back on.
“That’s why I’m afraid they’ll latch onto this. I’d heard they have video of the shooter from the Time Keeper’s security camera.”
“That would seem to make sense. There are cameras everywhere these days.” He extended his arm toward the Main Beach lifeguard tower. “There are probably several on us right now.”
“A comment, I’m afraid, of the times we live in.”
“You seem pretty convinced Kitty’s sister isn’t a true suspect. Are you sure about her?”
“Very sure. Don’t get me wrong, she’s got issues. More issues than a magazine stand. But unless she’s an incredible actress, I don’t think she realized how much money her sister had.”
“Hmmm.” Sam laced his hands behind his head.
“To tell you the truth, I’m a little worried about her.”
“When you think the time is right, I’ll give you the name of my financial advisor to pass on,” he said. “If she doesn’t have someone reputable helping her, there are those who will eat her alive.”
“You’re right. That would be great, Sam. I should have thought to recommend someone to her.”
“No worries. It will be a while before she’s ready.”
We sat in silence for a few minutes.
I shifted so I was leaning back like Sam. “I keep rolling all this around in my head, and I still can’t believe someone would want to kill Kitty.”
“You’re good at this. Any thoughts yourself on who may have wanted Kitty dead?”
“None at all. Diana told us Kitty’d had a fight with Philippe Arman.”
“Arman Gallery, right?”
“Yes, he was the gallery showing the cat’s paintings.”
“I don’t remember seeing him the night of the event at the Montage. The night Kitty was killed.”
“I don’t either, but he must have been there.”
“One would think.”
“Whatever call Kitty took before asking me to take the cats home, upset her. And it’s what caused her to be on PCH and in the line of fire.”
“I’m sure the police have checked her cell phone records.”
“I’m sure you’re right. But they’re not sharing that information with me.”
“No, I imagine not.” He smiled.
“What if it was April Mae? What if she called Kitty, and then Kitty went to meet her, and she shot her?” I shook my head even as I said it. “No, that’s too crazy. I truly believe s
he’d give up any amount of money to be able to meet her sister in person.”
“Who else could it be?”
“That’s just it, Sam. I can’t think of anyone else.”
We sat and talked until the sun went down. Then we just leaned back and enjoyed the view, Sam’s arm cushioning my shoulders.
Laguna Beach sunsets were on the list of my favorite things in the whole world. Sam Gallanos was quickly becoming an entry on that list as well. He had such a calming effect on my psyche, always seemed to know just what I needed at the time. Still, I was a little worried about Sam becoming a bigger part of my life. You see, I was pretty sure Sam was a player. A luxury lifestyle, a penchant for fast cars. How long before he’d get bored?
Still, maybe it was enough that we were good together. For now.
Chapter Fifteen
When I walked into my office building the next day there was a new temp at the desk, and Detective Malone was parked in one of the lobby chairs waiting for me. I didn’t have a good feeling about either development.
This temp was an improvement over the last one in understanding our office procedures, but looked like she’d swallowed a lemon. I introduced myself. She told me her name was Sally Purser.
Not sure who kicked her kennel, but Sally was not happy to see me, she was not happy to hand over my messages, she didn’t look like she’d been happy any time in the last decade. Maybe longer.
Still, the waiting room was clean and tidy and thankfully empty. No zoo-like atmosphere, so perhaps I could learn to live with the sour lemon face.
“Do you have a pet? A dog or a cat?” I found sometimes even the toughest characters could be cracked if you could get them to talk about their animals. Sally might be the exception. She looked like she’d really like to tell me it was none of my business.
“Can’t stand ’em. Too smelly.” She went back to sorting mail.
I looked at Malone. He shrugged and followed me into my office. Malone wore his usual—black jeans, black T-shirt, black leather. Bad-ass attitude.
I’d also dressed in my usual. Jeans to make it easier if I needed to sit on someone’s floor or lawn, and whatever top I grabbed. This was a fun yellow Balmain cut-in tank that I liked a lot. It was easy, wash and wear, didn’t show pet fur. Important attributes. My mother continually sent me suggestions, hoping to reform me. It was good Mama was hundreds of miles away in Texas, or there’d definitely be more than my wardrobe she want to improve.
