Dog Gone

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Dog Gone Page 10

by Shannon Esposito


  I felt something shift within. Soften. The unexpected declaration of love in the middle of such hate and chaos stilled all the rage within me. It dissipated the storm so the important thing could shine through again. We’re here to help Talia. I let go of my anger, felt it disperse and smiled a real smile. “You’re so good for me, Devon Burke.”

  Detective Vargas entered the room with a growl, mumbling in Spanish under her breath.

  Devon and I shared a concerned glance. “Everything all right?” I asked.

  “Fine. Fine.” She tugged on the ends of her black suit jacket roughly. “That woman just doesn’t bring out the best in me.”

  I smiled sympathetically. Good to know I wasn’t alone.

  Salma slid into a chair across from us and rubbed the space between her eyebrows. “I just got to inform Mr. Salazar that we received his DNA results back this morning, and he is not a match for the touch DNA we pulled off the collar. That, along with Georgia giving him an alibi ... and his behavior when he attacked the person who came to collect the ransom, suggests we can rule him out as a suspect.”

  “Where does that leave you suspect-wise?” Devon asked.

  “Not in a good place. The neighbor, Nell Barnwell, was interviewed by Detective Farnsworth the night of the murder. I went back and reviewed his notes. He felt he had obviously woken her, and she was visibly shaken by the news.”

  “She could be just a good actress,” Devon said, leaning back in the metal chair. “We’re thinking even if Nell wasn’t the one who killed Diggs, Ginger may’ve gotten scared and ended up in her yard. She could’ve used the opportunity to take Ginger for revenge.”

  “Then why the ransom demand?” Salma asked. “And what about the guy who actually showed up on the boat to collect it?”

  “An accomplice?” Devon said, though he didn’t look convinced.

  I wasn’t convinced, either. The theory seemed too forced.

  With a growl of frustration, Salma stood and poured herself a cup of coffee. “We’re missing a piece of the puzzle here, and I’m betting it’s got something to do with the motivation for this crime.”

  “What about Talia’s ex-nanny, Rose?” I asked.

  “We’re going to try and locate her today.” She shook her head as she came back to the table. “But, according to Ms. Hill’s description of her, she isn’t tall enough to have struck the lethal blow. She could’ve had an accomplice, so we’re not ruling her out yet. Ms. Hill also emailed us a photo of her. We’ll go back over the security tapes and see if she entered Moon Key recently. She did have a pass that she never turned in.”

  “So, what we have so far is the killer is probably a left-handed male, six-foot, maybe an accomplice of someone else and has access to the island and a claw hammer. Not much to go on.” Devon sighed.

  “Not much,” Salma agreed. “But one good thing came out of the news crew’s ambush last night. Their footage is too grainy to get a clear image of the boat driver, but we did get a pretty clear image of the boat. It’s a blue and white Cobalt Bowrider. Detective Farnsworth is going to take a photo around the local marinas today, see if anyone recognizes it.” She softened. “Look, I’m sorry the ransom exchange didn’t go as planned. But we both know she wouldn’t have gotten Ginger back anyway. Probably just saved her a million dollars.”

  Devon’s frustration flared. He gripped his coffee cup tighter as he glanced up at her through dark lashes. “We had a tracker in the bag. We could’ve at least followed the money to Ginger and maybe rescued her. Sammy ruined that chance.”

  “Oh.” She shot us a sympathetic look. “I’m sorry. That was a good idea.”

  Devon sat up straighter and rubbed the back of his neck. “Anyway, we’re hoping the dognapper will give Talia another chance, contact her again. I’m sure the fella still wants the money. Maybe if he sticks another note in her mailbox, someone will spot him.” Devon’s eyes widened and he clapped his hands together. “Why didn’t we think of that before? Elle, call Talia and tell her to have Marcel keep an eye on the mailbox ‘til we can get there.”

  Oh! Of course. There was no postage on the last ransom note, so someone had physically placed it in her mailbox, which meant they’d probably do it again if they hadn’t given up on getting the money. I couldn’t believe we didn’t think about that before. Must be the sleep-deprivation. I called and left a message for Talia.

  Devon pushed his chair back. “One more thing. The hand-off was obviously leaked to the press. We thought maybe the leak came from the department, and were planning on askin’ you about that possibility, but now it seems likely it was Georgia Waters.”

  Salma’s eyes darkened. “That woman is something else.”

  “Agreed.” He stood up, but turned back for one more question. “Do you still think Diggs’s assailtant and Ginger’s dognapper could be two separate people?”

  Salma gave a slight shrug. “My captain still thinks it’s a possibility, so we can’t rule it out. Though, the ransom demand does make the murder make more sense. Money is a solid motive. Which would mean you two need to be careful, because trying to find Ginger could lead you straight to the killer.”

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  We headed back to Talia’s to stake out the mailbox ourselves. Talia wasn’t answering her phone. Hopefully, she was getting some much needed sleep. The alternative was going back to the bungalow to check on my mom. Hiding in Talia’s yard seemed like the more bearable option. I trusted the nurse to have that situation under control, though we would have to go home eventually for the dogs’ sakes.

  The traffic was horrendous as usual during tourist season. It took us an hour and a half to make it back over the causeway and to the private ferry, which was the only way onto Moon Key. By the time we reached Talia’s mansion and checked the mailbox, an unmarked, unstamped business envelope already sat inside.

  Great. We’re too late.

  Glancing around, Devon swore under his breath.

  I steepled my fingers in front of my mouth then dropped my hands. “Let’s try to stay positive. This is a good thing. It means he hasn’t given up on getting the money. And it was daylight this time. Maybe someone saw who put it there?”

  We both looked around. It was a quiet day. The only movement was a couple of white ibises gliding by and the palm trees swaying in the breeze.

  Devon took a few steps into the street. “There’s no one around to ask.”

  Just then a whining motor noise caught our attention. We both turned as a red golf cart, sporting a red and white candy-striped awning, pulled out of Nell’s gated drive.

  Eva Gold.

  “What about her?”

  Devon nodded once. “Can’t hurt to ask.”

  “Eva! Miss Gold!” I waved frantically as we hurried to stop her.

  She eyed us impatiently as we approached, one hand resting lightly on the steering wheel, the other softly caressing the pug sitting on her lap.

  “Hi, Eva, I’m Elle and this is Devon. Did you happen to see anyone hanging around Talia Hill’s mailbox earlier?” I shaded my eyes from the sun and waited. It was hard to tell what Eva was thinking. Her eyes were covered by oversized, dark sunglasses.

  She glanced behind us. “When I first arrived at Nell’s house I did see Sunny Spillman’s boy toy drive by in that garish yellow corvette. But, I didn’t see him stop.”

  “Thanks, that could be helpful. No one else?” Devon asked, shifting his feet.

  She cocked her head toward Devon, her expression staying neutral. “I’ve been inside Nell’s for the last hour so I wouldn’t know, sorry. What’s this about?”

  An hour? If she and Nell didn’t really get along, and Nell opposed her during board decisions, what could they possibly have to talk about for an hour? I decided to come clean and be honest, hoping she would, too. “There’s a suspicious envelope in Talia’s mailbox, and we think it might be related to Talia’s missing dog. We’re just trying to figure out who might have put it there.”

  D
evon’s phone vibrated in his pocket. He pulled it out and frowned. “Excuse me, ladies,” he said, stepping away to answer it.

  I decided to change tactics, since Eva didn’t seem interested in helping us. Maybe flattery would work. “Thanks for your help, Eva.” I glanced down at her pug. His shiny, black eyes were staring back at me. He had a gray muzzle, his tongue protruding from a flat face. “Cute dog, what’s his name?”

  “This is Peaches,” she said, scratching him under the chin with her long, red nails. “He’s been my companion for eleven years. Haven’t you, precious?” She kissed the top of his head. “Don’t know what I’d do without him.”

  It always amazed me how even the most uptight person’s attitude changed when they talked about their pets. “I can imagine. I don’t know what I’d do without my dog, either. Well, thanks again for your help.” I turned to walk away.

  “Elle,” she called.

  “Yes?” I said, turning back.

  She seemed to be weighing her words carefully. “Just because I didn’t see him stop doesn’t mean he didn’t circle back around after I went in. There’s something ... off about him. I wouldn’t put it past him to be involved with Ms. Hill’s missing dog somehow, especially after the ransom request. He’s the male version of a gold-digger, if you know what I mean.”

  I nodded. “Thanks.” Then I watched her drive off. Devon was just hanging up from his call, a distracted but intense look on his face. I pointed to his phone. “Who was that?”

  His eyes shone bright blue in the sunlight as he looked up at me. “That was the owner of Brentwood Glass Studios in Miami returning my call. He confirmed the statue they created for Talia was made of safety glass, meant to shatter instead of break into sharp pieces upon impact. But he says that someone just fallin’ into the statue, or the statue just fallin’ over into a grassy area, would not be enough force to break the thick glass. It had to’ve been destroyed on purpose.”

  I bit the inside of my cheek, thinking. “Who would do that?”

  His gaze moved to track Eva Gold’s receding cart. “Talia had refused to remove the statue when Sunny Spillman told her to, remember? Maybe someone on the HOA board took it upon themselves to remove it for her. Maybe Diggs just went outside at the wrong time and caught ‘em. That would explain why the murder weapon was a hammer.”

  I nodded, watching Eva turn the corner. “I hate to say it, but that actually makes sense. Except for the part where they took Ginger. If they were just there to destroy the statue, why take her? Surely none of the board members need the ransom money.”

  Devon shoved his phone back in his jeans pocket. “Then maybe Ginger did run off in the commotion and someone else saw an opportunity to make some money, grabbed her. Or she did end up in Nell’s yard and Nell took her for revenge.” He glanced back at Nell’s house.

  I sighed. There were too many what-ifs. “But then again, it still could’ve been Diggs’s killer who took Ginger.”

  His eyes narrowed as he looked off in the distance. Then he snapped his fingers. “You know, one thing I’ve learned about rich people is they usually hire folks to do their dirty work. Say an HOA board member did decide to take the matter of Talia’s statue into their own hands; it wouldn’t be their hands that got dirty.”

  “They would’ve hired someone to take out the statue,” I whispered. Yes, this felt like it made sense. “So, seven board members, seven suspects?”

  Devon rubbed the back of his neck. “Maybe. We’ll come back for the envelope. Let’s go have a chat with Nell, since we know she’s home.”

  As we made the trek down her driveway, I said, “Next we should go talk to Sunny Spillman’s boyfriend. Eva said he’s the male version of a gold-digger. If it was Sunny who’d decided to take care of the statue, he could’ve been her muscle. He could’ve destroyed the statue, then saw an opportunity to make some money by taking Ginger.” Then again, maybe Eva was just trying to make trouble for Sunny. There was definitely bad blood between those two.

  Devon knocked on the glass door with a frosted etching of a peacock. The woman was obsessed. I was surprised when Nell came to the door herself. No butler?

  Her blue-gray eyes narrowed suspiciously as she opened the door and glared at us. “Yes?”

  “Hi, Ms. Barnwell.” Devon held out a hand. “Devon Burke.”

  She crossed her arms. “What do you want?”

  “Just a word, ma’am.” Devon dropped his hand. “We’re trying to help your neighbor, Ms. Hill, track down her missing dog. There’s a letter in her mailbox we believe is from the dognapper, and we’re wondering if you saw anyone who looked suspicious in the area this morning?”

  I didn’t miss the slight smirk she was trying to smother when she asked, “She’s really upset, huh?”

  Devon’s jaw muscle twitched. “Yes, ma’am.”

  She opened the door wider and stepped back. “Well, come on in and give me some details. Maybe I can help.” She shifted her glance to me.

  “I’m Elle Pressley,” I said, stepping in behind Devon. I had to bite my tongue to keep from saying more. I knew she wasn’t inviting us in to help Talia. She just wanted to hear all about how miserable Talia was.

  She led us into a living room with oriental carpets covering the white marble floor and Queen Anne furniture scattered around the room—cushioned, wingback chairs, a large scroll desk and a buttoned, mahogany leather sofa and loveseat. An oil painting of Queen Elizabeth sat above the fireplace. Heavy, royal blue curtains with gold tassels hung across the floor to ceiling windows. Beyond the windows the sunlight glittered on the Bay waters beneath a cloudless sky. My gaze caught on a lone peacock pecking at the backyard grass.

  “Something to drink?” she offered, taking a seat in one of the wingback chairs across from the sofa we’d settled into.

  “No, thank you,” we said in unison.

  “Can’t say I’m too upset to see that little rat-dog gone.” She smirked at us. “She had another one, too. Together they slaughtered my poor peacock, Miss Penny. Good riddance, I say. Though, she must be beside herself, right?”

  The way she leaned forward, eagerly awaiting our confirmation, didn’t leave me feeling very warm and fuzzy towards her. “Allegedly slaughtered,” I said.

  “Ms. Barnwell.” Devon jumped in as she narrowed her eyes at me. “Did you happen to spot anyone messin’ about with Ms. Hill’s mailbox today?”

  She smoothed out her long gray skirt and shook her head. “I’ve been in the house all morning, sorry.”

  “We saw Eva Gold leaving. You two are friends then?” Devon asked.

  She waved a large hand. “Friends? Lord no. We are adults, though, and can work together when we need to. For the good of the community.”

  “So it was board business you two were discussing today?” I asked.

  She didn’t answer me.

  “The board had been pretty upset about the large glass statue Ms. Hill had put up, yeah?” Devon asked.

  She lifted her chin into the air. “Nobody is above the rules. Not even a movie star, despite what she thought.”

  “Do you think anyone on the HOA board would’ve taken it upon themselves to destroy the glass dog?” Devon asked.

  She looked startled. “Of course not. We’re not savages, Mr. Burke.” She thought for a moment. “Though, if you’re saying that’s what someone did, my bet would be on Eva. She doesn’t let anything get in the way when she wants something. And she did want that statue gone. Her brother, Georgy, decorates the island for Christmas, you know. So she took it personally.”

  “Can I bother you to use your restroom?” I asked.

  She waved a hand behind her. “Down the hall on your left.”

  “Thank you.” While Devon continued his questioning, I hurried down the hall, checking as many rooms as I could for any sign of Ginger.

  “Ginger,” I called softly, as I hurried through a dining room, a massage room, a movie room, and a library. Eventually I made my way to the back of the h
ouse where there was a large kitchen. Nothing. No dog bowls, no food, no sign of white fur. I took the stairs two at a time and searched the upstairs rooms, praying to the universe I wouldn’t run into a housekeeper.

  By the time I raced back to the living room, I had to stop and catch my breath before I re-entered. I hoped she wouldn’t notice how long I’d been gone.

  “Well, thank you for your time,” Devon said, standing as I reappeared.

  “Anything?” he asked as we made our way back up the driveway.

  “Nothing.” I shook my head. “Except I didn’t run into any maids or cooks or anyone else. Weird that she doesn’t have any staff. Not that it means anything.”

  “She doesn’t seem like the nicest person on the planet, but I’m not liking her for takin’ Ginger. The fact that there’s no sign of Ginger there, plus Salma saying the detective who interviewed her that night believed he’d woken her up, I think we can rule her out.”

  I watched a vulture making wide, lazy circles above us. “What about her throwing Eva Gold under the bus?”

  Devon nodded and took out his cell phone. “I’ll mention Eva Gold to Salma.”

  We walked in silence back to the mailbox. “All right. Here’s the plan.” He used the edge of his shirt to carefully lift the envelope out of the mailbox. “We give this to Talia, so she knows the dognapper has made contact, with instructions not to open it until Salma can get here. Meanwhile, we’ll head over to have a chat with Sunny Spillman and see if her ... friend’s still there.”

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  I felt bad. We’d left a frail Talia sitting on the sofa staring at the unopened envelope after we’d woken her from her first sleep in days. We didn’t tell her about our new theory yet. I wasn’t sure how much more her nerves could take. We’d run it by Salma when we saw her first. But right now, we were pulling around Sunny Spillman’s circle drive. We parked right behind a bright yellow Corvette.

  “He’s still here,” I said, climbing out of the Jeep.

 

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