Dog Gone

by Shannon Esposito

  I checked the time on my phone. Yikes. “I’m sorry, Talia.” I picked up Buddha’s leash. “I have to get going to class.” She sat motionless, staring at Ginger’s empty bed, the despair palpable in her frozen expression. “Talia?”

  Her eyes slowly met mine. My heart ached at the pain I saw there. “Hey, let me talk to Devon. Maybe we can help the police find Sammy faster. Devon’s a really good P.I.” She nodded stiffly and I reached down and gave her a gentle hug. “Hang in there.”

  On the short hop around the island to the Pampered Pup Resort I called Devon and filled him in on the ransom note and the fact that Sammy had actually arrived on Moon Key the night Diggs had been killed. “Talia said he sometimes uses an alias at hotels ... Chuck Lee. Do you think you can find him?”

  “I can try but it doesn’t really make sense. He knows her schedule, knew that she’d be up at that time of night. Why wouldn’t he have waited until she was asleep to take Ginger? If that was his motive, to get the dog back.”

  “Guess we’ll have to ask him. But, we have to find him first.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  After my second doga class of the day, I’d brought out the box of dog toys and dumped them out in the middle of the studio. The dogs were currently running wild, playing and chasing each other while their owners lounged around and chatted. They deserved it today. The ladies had done a great job getting the dogs to relax during class. Now they got to burn off some holiday energy.

  I crossed the studio floor, stepping around mats, and being careful not to step on my smaller four-legged clients, to check my phone. I was supposed to be meeting Devon for lunch at Café Belle—which was named after one of Priscilla Moon’s late Yorkies.

  Priscilla was the billionaire heiress and dog lover extraordinaire, who’d spared no expense redecorating and revamping Moon Key when she’d bought the island nearly fifty years ago. The story was, while vacationing with her three Yorkshire terriers, she’d been told she couldn’t bring them into establishments. So, she simply bought the island and fired everyone, creating a dog-friendly slice of paradise and turning the island’s once posh human-only hotel into the Pampered Pup Spa & Resort.

  There was a missed call from a number I didn’t recognize and a new message.

  A no-nonsense female voice said, “Hi, this is Marcy Jenkins from Clearwater General. I’m looking for a Ms. Elvis Pressley. Can you please return my call at this number.”

  I cringed and squeezed my eyes shut. This had to have something to do with my mother. She was the only one who called me by my given name, Elvis. My hand was shaking as I dialed the number and asked for Marcy Jenkins.

  “Ms. Pressley?” she asked when she came on the line.

  “This is she,” I said.

  “You’re the person listed on Ms. Vera Pressley’s emergency contact.”

  “Yes, I’m her daughter.” My heart jumped and I glanced down at Buddha, who had followed me over and was leaning against my leg. “Is something wrong?”

  “I’m afraid your mother has suffered a heart attack. She’s here at Clearwater General in surgery now. It’s limited-access coronary artery surgery, which usually has an excellent outcome.”

  “Oh God! I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

  ***

  Devon sat with me in the waiting room, both of us sipping cold, bitter coffee out of Styrofoam cups. My guilt was just as bitter. I should’ve tried harder to get her to take care of herself, to get her to stop living on alcohol and sugar. Her arteries were probably full of Twinkie filling.

  “Hey, I know that look, Elle.” Devon shifted in the plastic chair and ducked his head to catch my eye. “I’ll not let you blame yourself for this. Your ma is a grown woman and made her own health choices.”

  I blinked, surprised, for one, that he knew me so well and two that my guilt actually responded to him and eased its grip on me a little. I slipped my hand into his. “Thanks, I needed to hear that.”

  His phone buzzed. He lifted my hand to his mouth and pressed a kiss to the back of it before answering, “Devon Burke.” After listening for a minute he said, “thanks,” and then disconnected. “That was Salma. They have a definite cause of death for Diggs. Seems the killer used a claw hammer to deliver a blow to the temple, rupturing the temporal artery and causing sudden death. From the angle of the blow, Diggs appears to have been facing his assailant, so the killer, who would’ve been about six-foot, was holding the hammer in his or her left hand when they struck the blow.”

  I grimaced at the thought. “So, we have two clues. The killer is left-handed and about six-foot tall.” I leaned into Devon’s shoulder for comfort. Then raising my head I added, “I guess if there’s any silver lining in all this, it’s that Diggs didn’t suffer.”

  Devon readjusted his position in the chair, angling his body more towards me. “The motive here had to be Ginger, grabbing her for the ransom money. What other possible motive could there be? Unless Diggs was involved in something shady, and his death had nothin’ to do with Ginger.” He shook his head. He seemed to be arguing with himself. “Can’t be, though. Salma said they’ve been looking into his past and doing phone interviews. He’s clean as a whistle and everyone says the same thing about him, all around nice fella. No recent relationships, his life revolved around his clients’ dogs. He truly loved his job. Bloody Boy Scout, he was.”

  I lifted his hand, examining his tan fingers, clean, square nailbeds, then entwined our fingers. “Well, we only have three more days to find out for Ginger’s sake. Salma warned Talia that even if she pays the ransom, the odds of her getting Ginger back alive are slim to none.”

  “Ms. Pressley?” A tired-looking doctor in green scrubs walked toward us with a smile, his mask pulled down below his chin, his gray hair sticking up awkwardly above his temple. “Your mother is out of surgery. Everything went well.”

  We both stood up. “Can I see her?” I asked.

  “She”ll be in ICU overnight. She’ll still be pretty out of it, so I suggest you wait until tomorrow to visit her, when she’s moved to a regular room. Tonight the best thing you can do for her would be to go home and get some rest yourself.”

  I nodded, relieved the surgery went well but feeling anxious about what came next. “How long will she be in the hospital?”

  He folded his hands in front of him and pursed his lips. “Three or four days. Then it would probably be best for someone to stay with her for a few days at home as she recovers.”

  Stay with her? I moaned to myself. There was no way I was going back to that house. I began to feel hives coming on. I scratched at my neck. “Thank you, Dr. Greene.”

  I leaned on Devon heavily on the way to the parking garage, enjoying the solidness of his form propping up my tired bones. I suddenly felt exhausted and fragile, thankful to have him to lean on and at the same time terrified one day I wouldn’t. People leave each other all the time, especially people filled with wanderlust like Devon. I shouldn’t get used to counting on him. Still, at the moment, I couldn’t get up the energy to pull myself away from him.

  “I can’t go and stay with her when she comes home. I just can’t.” I trembled at the thought of being back in that house. Back in her world where I felt like an insecure kid again, my only job taking care of her needs. I’d never been able to find myself under her shadow. I was just starting to discover my own place in life, figure out where I belonged. The irony of finding that sense of belonging on Moon Key, the one place I definitely didn’t belong, didn’t escape me.

  Devon pulled me tighter against him. “Well, then, she can just stay at the beach bungalow with us for a few days. We’ll get a live-in nurse so you don’t have to worry about anything.”

  I glanced up at him, at the sureness and kindness in his expression. “You wouldn’t mind?”

  He laughed softly, his blue eyes twinkling with good humor. “I think I can manage having her around for a few days.”

  As we arrived at the Jeep, I had to smile at his naivete.
“You’re tough but I’m not sure you’re that tough, Mr. Burke.”

  ***

  Wednesday afternoon, between my second and third doga class at the Pampered Pup, I ran to the hospital to visit Mom. She was in a regular room but was sound asleep. I decided not to wake her. I didn’t think I could hide the sadness I felt seeing her lying so helpless in those stiff, white sheets. Her skin was sallow and wrinkled, her slack lips revealing a rotten tooth. I hadn’t noticed how old she’d grown. She looked twenty years older than she should.

  Oh, Mom. What have you done to yourself?

  I could do nothing. Wiping away the hot tears, I promised myself I’d visit again tomorrow. Right now I had another pressing problem. Only two more days until we knew Ginger’s fate.

  ***

  My phone buzzed as I walked down the hall to the Pampered Pup acupuncture room to check on Buddha. He’d been favoring his back left leg the last few weeks. The vet couldn’t find anything wrong with it and suggested it could just be a sprain or sore from our new, more strenuous exercise routine. So we’d backed off that, and I’d added a few acupuncture and massage sessions to his weekly routine. They seemed to be helping.

  I stopped in the middle of the hallway when I saw the number. “Hey, Talia. Everything okay?”

  “Yes, yes, as well as it can be. I was just wondering ... I’m going crazy here with my own thoughts. Do you want to bring your friends over for a late dinner tonight? I’d like to thank them for their help and it would keep me from going insane.” She chuckled but I could hear the strain of truth in her voice.

  “Sure,” I said without thinking. “What time?”

  “Nine o’clock?”

  “We’ll be there.”

  Devon had somewhere else to be, but at nine o’clock Lulu, Hope, Beth Anne and I stood on Talia’s front porch. Lulu held her homemade pecan pie, Beth Anne had a wine gift bag in each hand, Hope had a bouquet of flowers—she was big on aromatherapy—and I had Buddha. We were like a comfort brigade storming the castle to save the princess.

  Marcel’s shoulders stooped as he let us in with a sad smile. He looked tired, too. “So nice of you ladies to come. She’s beside herself.”

  “I can only imagine,” I replied. But the truth was, I couldn’t imagine. If it were Buddha’s fate resting in the hands of a killer, I wouldn’t be able to put two sentences together, let alone a dinner party.

  Talia’s relief at our arrival was obvious as she hugged each of us in desperation. I could feel her tiny body trembling. “Come in, come in. Oh, those are beautiful.” She took the bouquet of white lilies from Hope and breathed in their scent. “One of my favorite smells in the whole world. Reminds me of Easter, my mother’s favorite holiday. She’d go all out with big family dinners and I’d always get a basket with so much chocolate, it’d take me months to eat it.” Smiling at the memory, she took my hand and led me to the great room. The others filed in behind us. “Thank you all for coming. I feel so silly not wanting to be alone.”

  “Nonsense, no one should be alone at a time like this.” Lulu handed her dish to Marcel. “For dessert.”

  “For our sanity,” Beth Anne said, handing him the two bottles of wine.

  He bowed slightly in acknowledgment and left with the items.

  “So.” Talia glanced at everyone as we got settled on the sofas. She was wearing a black silk pant outfit, her hair in a severe bun and her face scrubbed free of makeup. She looked so young and vulnerable. Her voice was high and tight, like she could snap at any minute. Her pale hands were trembling.

  I had a flare up of rage toward whoever was causing her so much pain by killing Diggs and stealing Ginger.

  Buddha sat between us, leaning on her leg. He must’ve sensed her fragile emotional state. She reached down absently and rubbed his head, like I imagined she’d done automatically to Ginger thousands of times. “Dinner will be ready in a bit but for now I need a distraction. Tell me about yourselves. Lulu, where are you from? You have such amazing bone structure.”

  “Oh, thank you. North Louisiana,” Lulu said, smiling at the compliment. “Lincoln Parrish. My daddy was French-Irish and my mom is African-American.”

  “Ah, I should’ve guessed by your accent. One of the hardest to do in my opinion, so many different dialects. Well, besides Boston. No one ever gets that one right. That pie looks delicious. Did you make it yourself?”

  “I did.” She perked up noticeably. “One of my Grandma’s recipes.”

  “Lulu is an amazing chef,” I chimed in. “She owns The Gumbo Pot restaurant in Clearwater, where you’ll get the best Creole food you’ve ever had in your life.”

  “Thanks, Elle.” Lulu threw me a wilted smile. “Well, it’s closed right now due to a lawsuit by some extremely rich and powerful crazy people. Sorry, that wasn’t fair. Grief makes everyone crazy I guess. No matter our economic status.”

  “That sounds like an interesting story.” Talia paused, watching Lulu silently, giving her space to talk.

  Lulu didn’t seem up to telling it though. “It’s a long one. For another day maybe.”

  “Fair enough.” Talia nodded, turning her attention to Hope. “Hope, what about you? Where are you from?”

  Hope’s sleek, brown bob swayed as she turned. “Oh, I grew up here. Well, more specifically in Clearwater. Elle and I are from the same neighborhood and have been best friends since the eighth grade. My husband, Ira Craft, and I have lived on Moon Key for a few years now, though.”

  Talia sat up a bit straighter, her eyes lighting up with recognition. “Oh, Dr. Craft, the plastic surgeon? Of course, I use him for touch-ups when I come here. He’s just the best. A perfectionist really.”

  Hope and I shared a surprised glance. Ira apparently hadn’t told Hope he’d done work on Talia. Client confidentiality, I guess.

  Talia cocked her head. “And you, Beth Anne?”

  Marcel appeared again with an opened bottle of wine and crystal glasses. He poured everyone a glass of the burgundy wine except Lulu, handing her a bottle of sparkling water instead.

  Beth Anne took a mouthful of wine, swallowed and nodded her approval before answering. “Well, I come from a military family, so we traveled a lot. I met and married my first husband when I was twenty-three in Germany. He was a good guy, smart businessman too. We had a great time, a great life until he passed away ten years later of a heart attack. He was older than me. He left me millions so the next time I married a starving artist, my current husband and great guy, too, Carl.”

  “Any children?” Talia asked. Her face finally had some color as she got lost in our stories and her glass of wine. I awaited Beth Anne’s answer with peeked curiosity. I’d always wanted to ask her this but had never wanted to seem nosey.

  “Unfortunately, no.” She tried to put on a brave face but the flash of pain in her eyes betrayed her. “I am apparently unable to have children.” Lulu and I shared a sad glance. That must be hard. “But, I do have my Shih Tzu, Shakespeare. He’s my baby.” She paused and her gaze fell. “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have ...”

  Talia held up her hand. “It’s fine. I love to hear about other people’s pets.”

  “Lulu’s having a baby,” I blurted out, trying to change the subject away from dogs and being awkward about it.

  Lulu shot me an amused look. “I think everyone can tell.”

  “Actually I try never to assume,” Talia smiled. “Congratulations. When are you due?”

  “Oh, not until the end of April. Good thing, because I’ll need time to figure out what this bundle of joy and I are going to do for food and shelter once I lose my restaurant.” Her tone was joking, but I caught the sudden dampness in her eyes before she dropped her gaze.

  “That won’t happen,” I said defiantly. But I knew it very well could. Lawyers with money behind them were pretty much invincible when it came to crushing the little guy. Or girl, in this case. Lulu couldn’t afford to fight them. Plus Selene was not the type of woman to give up on revenge.

/>   “So, no father in the picture?” Talia asked, her voice soft with empathy. “Or am I being too nosey?”

  “No father and no, you’re not being too nosey. It’s just ... that’s another long story for another day.” Lulu’s hand shook as she lifted her water glass.

  “I’m getting the feeling you’ve had a pretty interesting life,” Talia said, tilting her head thoughtfully. “I’d love to hear about it. When you’re ready to talk about it, of course.”

  Marcel entered the room, saving Lulu, and bowed slightly. “Dinner is ready Miss Hill.”

  “Thank you.” Talia stood and held her hands together. A slim diamond bracelet caught the light as it slid down her wrist. Her smile was just as bright. “All right, ladies. You’re about to experience the treat that is my chef’s specialty. I hope you like seafood.”

  ***

  We were all stuffed with delicious seafood paella, sipping dark roast coffee at the end of the meal when Talia suddenly glanced sheepishly at us. “I have something I want to get your advice on but ... it can’t leave this room unless it’s something you think I should bring up to the police.”

  We all looked at each other and then nodded. She had our full attention.

  Talia sighed. She rubbed her forehead nervously, closing her eyes. When she opened them, her resolve had stiffened. “Before I hired Diggs, I’d had another dog nanny named Rose. She’d been with me for four years and was also my personal assistant. I trusted her with my life. Until, well, she betrayed me ... for money, of course.” Anger darkened her expression for a moment. “She took secret photos of me.” She lowered her head, her eyes hidden behind long, pale lashes. “Nude photos.” Biting her lip, she raised her head and searched our faces with trepidation, for judgment, I assumed. When she saw none, she kept going. “I used to do yoga in the nude, just in the privacy of my own home, of course. But Rose took advantage of that and threatened to give the photos to the tabloids if I didn’t give her a million dollars.”