Howl Deadly

by Linda O. Johnston

  Dante took my hand. “Let’s head back to L.A.,” he said. “We’ll stop at my place first, to pick up our stuff. Brody will leave straight from here.”

  “Okay,” I said, suddenly especially eager to be as far away from HotWildlife as possible. For the moment. Murder magnet that I’d become, I knew I’d stay involved until the case was resolved.

  And no matter how star-struck Sergeant Hura might be, I wouldn’t be swayed by the fact that these two guys with whom I was leaving happened to be celebrities.

  Which meant I had a phone call to make to stay in the good graces of one of my contacts who’d become a friend: tabloid reporter Corina Carey. We scratched each other’s backs, so to speak, when expedient. I’d sometimes found that having a murder I was looking into show up in the media helped me figure out whodunit. Corina had been interested, but not overwhelmingly so, about the missing mama wolf. But she would never forgive me for failing to tell her of yet another situation in which I knew a murder victim.

  I also knew a host of potential suspects, which could include myself … as well as Dante. Reporters would undoubtedly drool about a story that involved something more than that hot entrepreneur’s power, wealth, and benevolence to beasts.

  And though I had no control over Corina, I could bargain with her to make her story an exclusive, at least for an instant, if she kept it less biased, and less sensational than other media slime might make it.

  I decided not to make the call in front of Dante. He’d undoubtedly be at least somewhat displeased. Sure, he had come to know Corina during the murder investigation of an Animal Auditions judge. But talk to her now? I didn’t think so.

  So, when we reached his mountain getaway, I got away from him while he readied his stuff to go. I went into the backyard, just my cell phone and me, to make my call.

  “Hi, Kendra,” Corina said. She’d captured my cell number long ago. “How are things?” Her tone was as inquisitive as always, saying silently, Have you come across any more murders?

  I stood near the trunk of a stately, sharp-scented tree—perhaps a ponderosa pine—staring toward the back door of the pseudo log cabin. Didn’t see Dante or any of the part-time housekeeping staff. I could talk.

  I told her about my latest deceased discovery. “We’d been having such a wonderful time here, helping those poor baby wolves,” I finished with a sigh, leaning dejectedly against the tree trunk.

  “Do you think the murder was related to the disappearance of the wolf bitch?” Corina sounded ecstatic with excitement. She’d already expressed her delight at my call and that I’d (hopefully) given her one up on any other reporter.

  “I wouldn’t be surprised,” I said, “although right now I haven’t a clue how that could be.”

  “I’ll head to HotWildlife right away,” she said. “Can you stay there so I can interview you?”

  Not! I said to her softly, “No, but I can call the director, Megan Zurich, and ask her to cooperate with you. No guarantees, of course, but as long as you promise to cover this story like an unbiased reporter, and not an intrusive paparazzo, that’ll help.”

  “Absolutely,” she gushed, making me certain the opposite was most likely. “Thanks, Kendra. Say hi to Dante for me. And I owe you.”

  “You sure do,” I said sweetly, and hung up. Okay, maybe calling her wasn’t the most comfortable thing I could do, but I’d learned that keeping her not mad at me could come in quite handy. Dante would surely understand that … I hoped.

  I called Megan Zurich, explained the situation, and warned her to be as forthright with Corina as she could be. “She comes on awfully strong at times,” I said, “and she is, at heart, a tabloid type, but I’ve learned I can mostly trust her. Don’t guess any answers to questions she asks, and feel free to refuse to discuss anything.”

  “How about if I refuse to discuss anything at all?” Megan clearly disliked everything about this.

  “I’d suggest you stay courteous—and cooperative—without making any accusations against anyone in Jon Doe’s death. She’ll love you. Might even give HotWildlife lots of good publicity that can only help bring in even more donations and visitors when all this is over.” I explained how Corina had helped me in the past when I’d needed a little publicity to help bring a killer out from undercover—and how cooperating with her had helped to keep the rest of the media hordes at bay.

  “Okay, Kendra,” Megan finally said with a sigh. “I assume Dante’s okay with it, too?”

  “I’ll make sure he is,” I told her—with a bit more optimism than I actually felt.

  I TOLD DANTE about my call to Corina a little after he’d turned onto the freeway. That way he couldn’t easily stop and stare daggers at me.

  To my surprise and delight, he didn’t seem too angry. “Your friend Corina’s a straight shooter as a reporter,” he said, sounding somewhat pensive. He looked pensive, too, with his high forehead creased and his marvelous lips pursed. Too bad I couldn’t kiss that pursing away. Well, maybe later. “Or at least pretty much so. Obviously this’ll get a lot of publicity—the kind I don’t really want. But having her on our side again might be useful. Good call, Kendra.”

  I basked in his praise for a little while, at least, as I watched the buildings at the sides of the freeway whiz by—shopping centers, residential areas, and all. I also pondered how to plunge into the topic that had been driving me nearly nuts for what seemed like forever, but had actually only been hours.

  “So do you get involved with who Megan hires to help out at HotWildlife?” I commenced somewhat nonchalantly.

  “If you mean, was I involved with her decision to employ Jon Doe in the first place, the answer is no.”

  So much for my employing even a little subtlety. He already knew what I was after.

  “Then you didn’t know him well,” I surmised. Or at least he wouldn’t admit otherwise.

  “No, but from what I could see, he was an asset. Worked hard. Cared about the animals. He always seemed to dig in to do what was needed at the facility.”

  “Then you have no ideas who might have killed him?”

  Dante’s gaze darted from the road ahead for an instant, and his gorgeous, dark eyes bored into me. Then he returned his attention to the road. “No,” he said. “I don’t.”

  I really had come to think a lot of this guy. Loved our intimate interludes. Even thought, now and then, that I might even, someday, come to love him.

  Had gotten to know him fairly well over the past few exciting, enjoyable weeks. Or thought I had.

  Right now, he sounded absolutely sincere. Utterly honest. Trustworthily truthful.

  So why, then, didn’t I believe him?

  Did it have anything to do with my suspicions that he hadn’t been entirely within the law in his enigmatic past?

  OKAY, SO I stayed suspicious. That didn’t serve to alleviate my hurt feelings when Dante simply dropped me off at my house late that evening. Even when he offered a kind of apology.

  “I’ve got a lot of meetings lined up tomorrow, things I’ve missed after spending so much time at HotWildlife over the last couple of weeks. I need a good night’s sleep first, Kendra, so I’d better not come in.” Still sitting in the driver’s seat of his Mercedes sedan, he regarded me beneath the lights on my curved and steep street. Was that regret I saw in his shining, dark eyes—or relief?

  And why was I feeling so paranoid?

  Maybe because I wasn’t sure whether to trust the guy?

  Behind us, in the backseat, Wagner woofed.

  “See ya soon, guy,” I called to him as I opened the car door. Dante was gentleman enough to come around to help me out and walk me to the wrought-iron gate. He gave me one heck of a sexy and suggestive kiss, considering it wasn’t intended to be a harbinger of anything exciting for the rest of the night.

  “Good night, Kendra,” he said breathily against my mouth. “Think about me tonight.”

  “In your dreams,” I countered airily, turning toward the nearest concret
e pillar to enter the security code that turned off the alarm and opened the gate.

  “Exactly. Yours, too.” Dante smiled.

  With a final look at him intended to be both enticing and irritated, I went inside and locked up again. In the chilly night air, I walked down the driveway past my nearly new SUV, a blue hybrid Escape, and up the stairs at the side of the garage to my apartment. I stopped at the top of the steps and waved at him, then went inside.

  Where Lexie awaited me with such enthusiasm that you’d have thought I’d been gone for ages, not just a few days. The dynamic little ball of black and white fur trimmed in red was all over, leaping and snuggling and licking as I stooped beside her.

  “I missed you, too, girl,” I said, then stood. Nothing like a great greeting from a loving Cavalier to help defuse a sense of sorrow at being dumped at the doorstep by Dante. Cheered a bit, I headed into the kitchen with my cell phone at my ear, and called next door.

  “Hi, Kendra,” said my assistant and tenant’s daughter, Rachel. “I just saw you come home and thought about letting Beggar out to greet you, but I didn’t get there in time.”

  “How is your sweet Irish setter tonight?”

  “Fine,” she said. “I walked Lexie and him together an hour ago, just before it got dark. Are you calling about our pet-sitting schedule tomorrow? I hope so.”

  Fortunately, I was already sitting at my cramped, round kitchen table in my cramped, square kitchen. Otherwise, I might have sunk down in anticipation. Rachel’s words sounded like a harbinger of her unavailability tomorrow, which would mean I’d need to double up on my own pet-sitting obligations.

  Well, I owed her for doubling up on hers for me.

  “That’s one reason I called,” I acknowledged, “besides making sure you knew I was home. And to thank you again for stepping in and also making sure I had enough additional pet-sitting backup while I was gone.”

  “No problem. Only—”

  “Only?”

  “I heard on the news about the guy who was killed at HotWildlife. It’s not enough that you’re hunting a missing wolf. Are you investigating another murder?”

  I sighed and stared at the phone. Word was already out. “Looks that way,” I finally said with a sigh.

  “Awesome!” she exclaimed. “You’re so good at it, too. The way you solved the murder of Sebastian Czykovski for us at Animal Auditions—that was my favorite case of yours so far.”

  Rachel had been a tenant, an assistant, and a friend during several murders I’d found myself involved in resolving. I wasn’t surprised that she was especially interested in the one at Animal Auditions, since she’s one of the hosts of the show. She had helped Brody come up with scenarios for our next mini-season, and he’d said planning was already moving along.

  “Thanks,” I said drolly.

  “Do you have any clues yet? Any favorite suspects so far?”

  “It just happened earlier today,” I said. “It’ll take time to unravel, I assume, like the others I’ve unfortunately been involved in.”

  She must have caught my less-than-ecstatic tone at last. “Oh. That makes sense. I hope this was another guy like Sebastian, who you weren’t especially fond of in the first place.”

  I answered her partially unasked question. “I didn’t know him well at all, but I’d no reason to dislike him.”

  “Was his name really Jon Doe?”

  “That’s right,” I said, although her query kicked a little button inside my brain. I’d lots of questions about Jon Doe, especially regarding anything he might have done to bring himself onto Brody’s computer screen for a search.

  As part of attempting to ascertain who killed him, I might have a lot of digging to do.

  “Anyway,” Rachel said, “I have a really big audition tomorrow, Kendra. I guess my being on Animal Auditions may have helped my acting career. It’s for a small part in a really big film. Do you … I mean, is it okay if I … ?”

  “If you’re asking if I can fill in for you and do all tomorrow’s pet-sitting, the answer is yes,” I said. “That’s our deal. You help me when you can, without being chained to what I do. And you’ve gone above and beyond that over the past few days. Go for it, Rachel. Break a leg!”

  I didn’t know if she’d get the role, or how much time it might involve, but I hoped she’d still be able to help me out.

  “You’re the greatest, Kendra,” she said, and I felt her warm hug leap from the mansion on my property, through the phone, and into my apartment.

  “Of course I am,” I said, then hung up.

  A little while later, I’d walked Lexie for the last time that night, showered, and gotten ready for bed.

  And willed the phone to ring, as it always used to do a while back, when I was dating Jeff Hubbard, the P.I. and security guy.

  Dante was a whole lot less predictable.

  I wasn’t about to call him, since he’d said his reason for dropping me off alone was that he needed sleep.

  But the fact he didn’t call kept me awake long into the night.

  Or maybe it was because my mind churned over how I would approach solving this latest murder, especially from so many miles away.

  Chapter Seven

  WE WOKE EARLY the next morning, Lexie and I. I had lots of pets to sit, or rather, to walk, feed, play with, and—possibly—clean up after. For the first visits, in and around the San Fernando Valley, I took Lexie with me. She got along great with Meph, a little terrier who was a longtime client. It was too early, though, to stop in next door to Meph and visit with my friend Maribelle Openheim and her shepherd mix, Stromboli. Then there was Beauty, a golden retriever.

  By the time we’d hung out with these pups for a while and lavished a lot of attention, it was nearly nine o’clock. Since the day promised to be a busy one—with more pets to visit—I decided not to impose my feelings of stress on Lexie, so I headed for Doggy Indulgence Day Resort.

  My good friend Darryl Nestler was with his human staff at the tall desk near the door of the canine care center, greeting doggy guests for the day. Long, lanky, and lovable, Darryl was the reason I’d taken up pet-sitting in the first place. Doggy Indulgence didn’t board pets, and he had given me a lot of referrals over time, none more critical than the first. Back then, I’d been unjustly accused of ethics violations that resulted in the temporary suspension of my license to practice law. For Lexie and me to eat, I had to do something—and that something consisted of my first pet-sitting assignments.

  “Hi, Kendra,” Darryl said enthusiastically as I walked in the door. “Hi, Lexie.” He stooped and scooped my eager pup into his arms, hugging her gently as she stood on her hind legs and licked his pointed chin. Then he rose once more. As he nearly always did, he wore a green henley-style shirt with a Doggy Indulgence logo on the pocket. “Is Lexie staying here today?”

  I nodded, then let her loose to join the already significant contingent of canines in the place that smelled of doggies and cleaning stuff. One of her favorite areas in Doggy Indulgence was the part with people furniture for pets to veg out on. Today, though, she obviously had some pent-up energy. She headed for a section where a few other doggies already played keep away with canine toys.

  “I’m going to be on the go all day.” I explained Rachel’s unavailability to pet-sit due to her potentially exciting audition—and why I especially owed her the time off, which I’d have given her anyway.

  “A missing wolf and a dead body? Boy, Kendra, you’ve been busy. Again. Don’t you ever get tired of being a murder magnet?”

  I saw the twinkle in his kind brown eyes beneath his wire-rims, and decided to tease him back. “I sure do. I’m ready to turn that pleasure over to you anytime. How about”—I pulled my cell phone from my purse and regarded the time on its screen—“immediately?”

  “Sorry, I’ve got a full day planned. Full week, too. Full year …”

  “I get it,” I said with a laugh. “But I wish I could pass along this responsibility to someone. Anyone.
Preferably someone I don’t like—so that excludes you.”

  He gave me a big hug, even as I caught the eye of Kiki, my least favorite of his employees. The blond bombshell was a wannabe actress, as were so many people in L.A. And she was good with pets, which was why she was able to stay at Doggy Indulgence. But she had a nasty, somewhat slimy personality with people. And now she glared at me, as if I was muscling in on someone else’s territory.

  But I was just accepting a platonic embrace from my closest bud, not intruding on his relationship with his girlfriend. As I backed away slightly, I said, loud enough for her to hear, “How’s Wanda?” That would be Wanda Villareal, a fellow pet-sitter and now Darryl’s significant other. “She’s been great about filling in for me when I’ve been out of town.” We chatted briefly about Wanda and her Cavalier, Basil. And then I let him know I had to leave. “Lots of pet-sitting clients to visit,” I told him. “See you and Lexie later.”

  First thing, when I returned to my Ford Escape to escape to my next pup to care for, I used my hands-free phone system to make one of a couple of pending calls. “Mignon, it’s me,” I said to the receptionist at my law firm. “I’ll be in later, I promise, but I have some things to take care of first.”

  “Animals always come first, don’t they, Kendra?” she said in a giggly, nonjudgmental voice. Like Borden Yurick, the senior partner of our firm that specialized in practicing law for senior citizens, she understood my priorities. “Want me to check your calendar and call you back if there’s anything pressing later today?”

  “Yes, and please ask Borden, too.”

  When I hung up, I took a deep breath and called Althea Alton for the second time in only a few days. I kind of regretted having had her check her unusual online sources for the missing wolf mama—since I was about to ask her for an even huger favor.