Dog Gone

by Shannon Esposito

  A knot of anxiety began to form in my stomach and wind its way around my lungs. “Is this a bad time?”

  She peered around my shoulder as if she were expecting someone else and then her demeanor instantly shifted. Her face lit up and she shook her head. “Sorry. Elle, right?”

  I was so confused by the sudden change all I could do was stand there like my feet were nailed to her front porch. I managed a nod.

  “You’re fine. I was just practicing my lines for a new film, and it’s hard for me to get out of character. Thanks for coming on such short notice and so late.” She reached out and scratched Buddha under the ear. “Hello, big guy. Well, come on in you two.”

  “This is Buddha,” I said, still feeling off-balance. I stepped inside, resting my hand on Buddha’s head for emotional stability.

  Closing the door, she led us through the foyer—complete with marble pillars and a ginormous glass chandelier looming above us—and into the grand room. It was decorated with simple elegance—white sheer curtains, multiple vases of pink roses, birch wood furniture with light blue accents. Very zen.

  “When I’m not filming, I usually stay up at night and sleep in the daytime, much more peaceful. Ginger’s in here.” She slid gracefully onto the sofa and patted the cushion beside her. “I thought we could get to know each other for a minute before we begin the lesson. I’ve just had Marcel make us some of his famous hot chocolate.” A silver tray sat on the table with two steaming, white mugs. “Apparently the secret is to melt seventy-percent dark chocolate with some coconut oil.”

  As I took a seat, I refrained from pinching myself to see if I was dreaming. I kept Buddha on his leash, but he was straining to greet Talia’s West Highland white terrier, Ginger, who was curled up in her dog bed, just the twitch of her pointy ears acknowledging our presence. She didn’t seem ready to greet us.

  “Buddha, sit.” His brown eyes rolled up to meet mine, and then he plopped down with a sigh, making sure he had a good view of Ginger.

  I adjusted myself on the sofa to angle toward Talia. “I think my dog is smitten.”

  Talia’s laugh was light as a feather, too. “She is a beauty, isn’t she? She’s been through a lot recently, and she’s very hormonal. She’s just come out of being in heat, so I wanted to do something special for her.”

  I heard a catch in her voice and wondered if I should ask what was wrong. Or was whatever happened too painful to talk about? I didn’t need to worry, though, because Talia stood and went over to the fireplace mantle, retrieving a silver-framed photo that sat next to an ornate silver earn.

  Returning to the sofa, she handed it to me. “This is Ginger with her sister, Holly. We lost Holly to cancer four months ago. She was only six years old.”

  “Oh, I’m so sorry. They are gorgeous.” I stared at the two Westies sitting side by side in front of a lake, their long white coats backlit by the sun. Then I remembered the large glass dog out front. “So your glass dog outside, that’s a tribute to her? To Holly?”

  “Yes.” A small shiver ran through her body and she stiffened before getting up and returning the photo to the mantle. “Holly and Ginger, they were born on Christmas day, so the holiday has always been special to me. I wanted to do something grand for her, to let her know she would never be forgotten. Do you like it?”

  I swallowed a swig of the creamy melted chocolate and nodded. “It’s really beautiful. I can’t believe you got the HOA to approve it.”

  She waved a petite hand. “Oh, they didn’t. In fact, I was confronted by a charming little southern woman with a surprising mean streak, who told me I’d be paying a thousand dollar fine for every day it’s up.” Her blue eyes sparkled with mischief.

  “Yeah, that pesky rule.” I shook my head. “You’d think they’d see a beautiful memorial like that and realize it would only add to the Christmas spirit on the island.”

  I felt Buddha shift and glanced down. Ginger had decided to come greet us, and Buddha started sniffing her with uncharacteristic excitement.

  “Easy big guy.” I made him sit back down so Ginger could sniff him without getting stepped on, since she was half his size.

  Her shiny black button eyes flicked from Buddha to me. She held a squeaky frog in her mouth.

  “Hello, pretty girl,” I said soothingly. She seemed wary of me so I didn’t reach to pet her yet. After a minute, she relaxed and sat in front me, leaning against my leg. Then, looking up, she gently laid the squeaky frog in my lap. “Oh, you want to play?”

  I heard the small catch in Talia’s throat, but it was too late. I had picked up the frog and chucked it across the room. It landed by the fireplace with a squeak of protest.

  Ginger didn’t run to fetch it. Nope, instead she stared at me with her ears tilted forward and her jaw shut tight, those shiny eyes now looking at me in utter horror.

  My heart dropped into my stomach like a stone. “Oh God, she doesn’t like to fetch?”

  “I’m sorry, Elle. I should’ve warned you,” Talia said over her shoulder, as she hurried to retrieve the toy I’d just tossed across the room.

  I was mortified that I’d just played fetch with a movie star.

  Ginger didn’t take her eyes off of me until Talia returned with the frog and held it out to her in cupped hands. Finally, with one last look of bewilderment aimed at me, Ginger took the frog back, holding it gently in her jaws and giving a little whine.

  I watched in confused silence as the dog climbed back up in her bed, dropped the frog into a pile of squeaky toys and nosed them toward her belly.

  Talia laughed softly as she placed a warm hand on my arm. “I’m sorry. Don’t feel bad. She’s going through a false pregnancy. She was showing off her puppy to you. It’s her favorite.”

  I winced. “Her puppy?” Oh heavens. I’d just chucked her puppy across the room. “She’s going to hate me for life.”

  “She won’t.” Talia gifted me with her radiant smile, and I felt a measured bit of relief.

  “I’m so sorry,” I said.

  “Well,” Talia said, shaking her head, “let’s see if we can’t get her mind off of those ... puppies for a bit.”

  “We can only try.” I unrolled my yoga mat in front of the pink one Talia had already placed by the fireplace.

  “Come on, girl,” Talia called, patting the mat.

  Ginger slunk over reluctantly, the green frog held gingerly in her jaws. She eyed me suspiciously as she positioned herself between Talia’s feet.

  I couldn’t blame her. I unsnapped Buddha’s leash. He lay down and stretched out his front paws until they were touching Talia’s mat, his attention resting fully on Ginger, who was staring at him, her head tilted.

  I shook my head. “Definitely smitten.” I scratched the brown spot above his tail. “Ready to earn your keep, Buddha?”

  He responded by stretching further towards Ginger, his jowls now resting on the edge of Talia’s mat.

  Talia giggled and scratched his ear. “I’ve met guys like you. Hopeless romantics, the most dangerous kind.”

  I cycled through a few rounds of stretches for both us and the dogs and then a bit of massage to try to relax Ginger. About fifteen minutes into the lesson, a skinny, short man dressed in jeans and an orange, floral Hawaiian shirt bounced into the room.

  Ginger wagged her tail and proceeded to hop off the mat, cross the room and drop the frog at his sandaled feet.

  “Oh, look at the precious baby.” He scooped up the slobbery squeaky toy. “She’s beautiful, Ginger.” He scratched under her chin and glanced up at us with an amused smile. “Sorry to interrupt. Did you want me to take Ginger for her nine-thirty walk or wait until you ladies are finished?”

  “Sure, you can take her.” Talia pushed herself off the mat. “I don’t think we’re succeeding in getting her mind off of her puppies anyway.”

  I hated to admit defeat, but she was right. Ginger was anxious to get back to nursing her nest of squeaky toys. And Buddha wasn’t helping with his infatuati
on. I rolled up my mat.

  Talia turned to me. “Sorry, I should’ve asked. You don’t mind if we cut the lesson short this time?”

  I slid my rolled up mat back into its bag and pushed a stray wave of hair out of my face. “Not at all. We can try again after her false pregnancy is over.”

  “Great. She’s all yours, Diggs. Maybe you can get rid of some of her anxious energy.”

  “Your wish is my command.” He dropped a kiss on the dog’s head. “Come on, Princess.”

  Ginger followed him happily to the door, her short legs scurrying to keep up, baby frog still held gently in her jaws.

  “I don’t know what I’d do without that man,” Talia sighed. “It’s hard to find someone I would trust with my girl.” A shadow of something dark, anger or grief maybe, crossed over her pale features. She shook it off. “Anyway, I feel bad that I had you come over for nothing, Elle. I’ll still pay you, of course.” She returned to the sofa. “At least come and finish your hot chocolate. It actually tastes better as it cools, if you can imagine that. Besides, I don’t get much time to just sit and chat with someone who’s not in the business.” She smiled at Buddha as we followed suit. “Especially someone who understands that dogs are family, not property.”

  I smiled. “That’s the nice thing about Moon Key. Most people here believe that.”

  An awkward silence made me start fidgeting with my cup. My confidence on the mat didn’t translate to the sofa, especially when I remembered who I was sitting with.

  Say something, Elle.

  “So, I loved your last film, Jar of Hearts. You and Matt Sterling have such amazing chemistry.”

  She grunted in amusement. “You want to know a secret? The man is barely five-foot-six. He wears two-inch platform shoes.”

  I stopped mid-sip. “No way!”

  She nodded. “Yep. That’s why I get cast as the leading lady in his movies, too. Being five-foot-two, I put the “tall” in his tall, dark and handsome. My ex-husband was so jealous of Matt. He used to insist on being on set during love scenes, which made everyone uncomfortable. Except Matt ... I think he actually enjoyed riling him up. Little did I know my ex was projecting because he’d actually been cheating on me. Hence the ex part.”

  “I’m sorry,” I offered. Of course, I knew about the drama already, as it had played out for months in the media. It had been a bitter divorce. Why anyone would cheat on Talia Hill, I would never understand. She was beautiful, talented, rich and sweet as far as I could tell. What more could a man want?

  She waved it off. “It’s fine. I’ve got ninety-nine problems but a man’s not one of them.” He eyes shone brighter, like she’d been lit up from the inside as she added, “I’ve got my Ginger and that’s all I need.”

  Just then Buddha lifted his head, his ears erect. He pushed himself off the floor and scrambled across the wide expanse of tile toward the front door, a low growl lodged in his throat.

  Talia and I shared a worried glance.

  “Does he do that often?” she asked, her hand fluttering to her throat.

  “Not without a reason,” I whispered. “Expecting anyone?”

  She shook her head.

  Buddha let out a sharp bark that made us both jump up and hurry to the door.

  Talia peered out. “I don’t see anyone.”

  “You don’t have a stalker, do you?” I reached down and rested a hand on Buddha to quiet him. The fur on his back was standing straight up. That was really out of character for him. Sweat broke out on the back of my neck.

  “Yes, a few, but no one’s ever been able to get to me here on Moon Key. That’s one of the reasons I come here. I feel safe.” She crossed her arms and her pale features pinked. “No one is going to take that from me. I won’t live in fear here.” She slipped into a pair of gold backless sandals.

  “Hang on. We’ll go with you.” I grabbed Buddha’s leash and dug my cell phone out of my bag. “Okay, boy, let’s go see what’s got you worked up.”

  Buddha scrambled out the door. It was all I could do to hang on to the leash as he bolted down the marble stairs and out into the circle driveway, letting out a frantic bark that I’d never heard from him before.

  The hair on my arms prickled as he pulled us toward the road. Despite the slight chill in the air, sweat rolled down my sides. An answering bark sounded somewhere in the distance. Talia’s breath was coming in short gasps beside me. The night was too quiet. No frogs. No bugs. No night birds. Something was definitely wrong. As we crossed the end of her driveway through the open black iron gates, what that something was hit us like a lightning bolt.

  “Diggs!” Talia screamed.

  CHAPTER THREE

  “Oh my God.” We rushed over as close as we could get to the man lying sprawled in the wreckage of shattered glass and Christmas lights that used to be the statue of Holly.

  I held Buddha close to me so he wouldn’t step in the glass. He was still straining to sniff the area frantically. “What happened?”

  Talia had her hands pressed to her chest. In the flimsy gold sandals, she carefully picked her way through the glass-strewn grass and dark strands of lights. “I’m coming Diggs. Oh God. Oh God.”

  “Talia, be careful!” I cried out. “I’m going to call security and an ambulance.” Holding onto a straining Buddha with one hand, I dialed security.

  Diggs wasn’t moving or speaking. Hopefully he was just unconscious. “We need help at Talia Hill’s place. Call an ambulance. Please hurry!”

  Pocketing my phone, I called to Talia, who was now sobbing into her hands beside Diggs. “Help is on the way.” But, by her demeanor I could tell it was too late. Diggs was gone. My heart dropped. “I’m so sorry,” I whispered.

  Buddha and I stood quietly, giving Talia a moment to grieve in peace. It seemed so wrong ... a man losing his life to a backdrop of twinkling Christmas lights.

  She suddenly jumped to her feet. “No!” Her long hair escaped its ponytail and swirled around her shoulders as she turned in quick, frantic circles. “Oh God ... Ginger!” she screamed. “Ginger!”

  Two golf carts rounded the corner, their headlights glinting off the remains of the glass statue. In the bright light, I caught a glimpse of the blood soaking through Diggs’s hair and streaking his face.

  I turned away as Talia picked her way back towards me, sobbing. “Elle, you have to help me find Ginger.”

  “Of course. She couldn’t have gone far. We’ll find her,” I managed, though my own voice was thick with panic. “She probably just got scared and is hiding somewhere.”

  Talia nodded and chewed at her thumbnail. Even in the soft glow of the surrounding Christmas lights I could see the shock dilating her pupils.

  Four Moon Key security guards hopped out of the golf carts. Two of them picked their way through the scattered glass toward Diggs and the other two approached us. One of them, unfortunately, was the head of security, Alex Harwick. Perfect. Alex was a forty-something ex-football player, and typical good ol’ Florida boy, who didn’t understand or accept rejection. I’d stopped counting the number of times he’d asked me out since I’d started working on Moon Key.

  Right now he was walking toward me with his hand up in greeting. “Elle.” Then, smoothing his dirty-blond hair down self-consciously, he stared at Talia and cleared his throat. “Miss Hill.”

  Talia turned to him briefly, but her eyes were darting around the area. “We have to find Ginger,” she moaned through her grief.

  “Ginger?” Alex asked, glancing back and forth between us.

  “Yes, Ginger. My dog.” She turned on him. “She’s a white terrier, about twenty pounds. Diggs was walking her. Now Diggs is there,” she motioned behind her without looking, “and Ginger is nowhere.” Her hands flew to her mouth as her body began to shake uncontrollably. “Diggs is dead. This can’t be happening.”

  Her grief was just as commanding in real life as on the screen. I realized her vulnerability was the one thing she didn’t have to portray thro
ugh acting.

  Alex peered over at his men. I turned in time to see the one beside Diggs shake his head. Alex pulled out his phone and called the Clearwater police.

  ***

  “So what’s she like? Talia Hill.”

  I glanced over at Detective Salma Vargas, surprised by her question. She seemed a more no-nonsense type of woman who wouldn’t care about celebrities. We were canvasing the area with flashlights, looking for Ginger, while her partner, Detective Farnsworth, took Talia’s statement inside and the ME’s team dealt with the body.

  “She’s ... nice. Not at all uppity like you’d think she’d be.” Buddha had pulled me over to sniff a row of bushes. I shined the flashlight beneath them. “Human, just like us.”

  Salma made a snorting noise. “Hollywood royalty are not just like us. They live in a whole other universe.”

  “Ginger! Here girl!” I called softly. The night was so quiet and there was a crisp, clean bite to air. “That may be true, but I do know that this dog is her whole world. We have to find her or she’s going to be devastated Hollywood royalty.”

  “I pictured her as more of a cat person.” Salma stopped walking and sighed. “All right listen, we’ve been out here for nearly an hour. The dog is probably just freaked out and hiding somewhere. There’s nowhere for her to go, unless she’s got a ferry pass. I suggest we call it a night, and you help put together a search party for her in the morning, when you can actually see more than five feet in front of you.”

  I had to agree. The Christmas lights were helping, but not enough as the mansions sat too far back from the road, and there was too much cloud cover for moonlight. All the frustration and sadness of the evening suddenly hit me. My bones felt like lead. “You’re right. This isn’t getting us anywhere.” I sighed. “You have to be the one to tell her though.”

  Talia took the news as well as can be expected for a person already in the throes of grief and shock. Her eyes shimmered, sending a fresh path of tears down her pale face.