Howl Deadly

by Linda O. Johnston

  Dante left the room for a while after the film started. And I heard his raised voice from inside his office.

  Fortunately, I’d seen before that Dante had no landline in this house. That meant he’d spoken on his cell phone.

  I laughed along with Brody as he spat out commentary now and then about what had gone on behind the camera. Soon, Dante returned. His expression seemed a combo of smugness and rage. Interesting.

  Despite my curiosity, I settled down and snuggled against him on the couch as the movie continued. When it was over, I gave Brody a quick kiss on the cheek in congratulations for an absolutely entertaining classic film.

  We all soon headed for bed. Dante and I were both either too exhausted or too irritated to even think of sex. I waited a long, long time till I heard his breathing turn deep and even, signifying sleep.

  And even then I didn’t move immediately.

  But when I finally did, I sneaked to Dante’s side of the bed and retrieved his cell phone. I hurried to the bathroom, where I’d already hidden paper and a pen. I looked down the caller ID list. No name on the most recent call, but I was able to jot down the number.

  I flushed the toilet in case I’d been heard, but Dante was still sleeping when I returned to the bedroom. I quietly slipped my note into a pocket of my purse that was already filled with papers, hoping to obscure it from all eyes but my own.

  And tomorrow, I would use a reverse phone directory, or resort to Althea, to learn whom Dante had talked to.

  Chapter Twenty-four

  I WASN’T SURPRISED to learn that the person Dante had palavered with on the phone was with the U.S. Department of Justice. Not too surprised, anyway. That was the info that Althea exhumed from her online sources when I gave her the 202 phone number that was clearly in the area of Washington, D.C.

  Yes, I’d resorted to relying on Althea, partly because I couldn’t get a long enough time to hit the computer with Dante around. Plus, I was certain I’d get accurate info fast that way.

  Dante, Brody, and I had discussed various plans of attack for the day, but no one had come up with anything definitively designed to discover who had killed Jon Doe. We had hung out at Dante’s home during the morning, and it had been one heck of a hard task to get any private time. These guys were great in most ways, including attempting to keep me safe. But it had been awfully hard to create time to contact Althea. And then to learn the results of her research and jot stuff down.

  I’d even resorted to multiple potty breaks, which earned me curious looks from the guys, who obviously wondered whether I was well. Plus, Lexie and I went on a couple of extra outings for her, with Wagner along, too, even though she didn’t really have to avail herself of the lawn that often. Of course, we stayed inside the fence, and I kept watch for any movement outside it.

  Hanging around the house for a few waking hours drove me a bit batty. I was used to running around pet-sitting. Loved my extra vocation and all the animals I cared for. Even loved cleaning up after them when necessary.

  Well, okay, that was an exaggeration.

  And now it was early afternoon. We had just left Lexie and Wagner in the charge of one of Dante’s local housekeepers and headed for HotWildlife, all of us piled in Dante’s car.

  “So we’re going to just mingle among the remaining caretakers today and act like volunteers?” I confirmed as we pulled into the parking lot. “See if we can push any of them to give further info on Jon Doe and his friends and enemies?”

  Though HotWildlife wasn’t the largest local animal sanctuary, it employed at least half a dozen people to ensure the inhabitants were fed regularly and right, and that their enclosures were clean and secure. Then there was a team of groundskeepers who kept the areas outside the habitats in good condition. Not all were necessarily on duty at the same time.

  “That’s the plan,” Dante agreed. “We’ll meet up every hour or so to exchange what we’ve learned. I’ve already told Megan part of our plan, and she’s okay with our poking our noses into areas that she wouldn’t otherwise allow.”

  “Is she really able to dictate rules to you?” Brody inquired drolly, then opened the door behind the driver.

  “I may be chief contributor here,” Dante said, “but, like with my HotPets stores, I pretty well give my managers free rein, as long as things run smoothly. And as much as I like the animals here, Megan’s much more experienced in their care, so I definitely listen to her.”

  And offer strong suggestions of your own, I thought. Suggestions that amounted to orders, even if not phrased that way. That was a major part of Dante’s powerful personality—something I’d experienced myself. I thought it attractive and cute, most of the time. Especially when I simply followed the orders I agreed with and ignored the rest.

  As always, I carried my large purse with me. Inside were my cell phone and a spiral bound notebook that contained my pet-sitting log. And other notes.

  Including the name and phone number of the person whose identity Althea had found for me.

  My habit had been to inhale the unusual animal odors of HotWildlife deeply as I entered the facility. No, I wasn’t nuts. It just felt like an appropriate intro to the creatures I’d soon see.

  As we entered, Dante’s high-tech PDA sang out that he was receiving a call. He pulled it from his pocket and scowled at the caller ID. But his tone was level as he said, “Good morning, Sergeant Hura.” As he listened to Frank’s response, his expression grew even grimmer. “Of course, I’m willing to cooperate,” he responded. “I’m at HotWildlife right now. How about if I come by at around four thirty this afternoon? Yes, I can bring Brody with me.”

  In a moment, he ended the call. “They have more questions because of some evidence he claims just came up. I’m going to call Esther Ickes to join us. Hopefully, she can make it. You should call your criminal lawyer, too, Brody. I had the impression that we might not be leaving for a very long time—or at least until we post bail.”

  I wasn’t completely shocked, but even so … “They’re arresting you?” I asked.

  “He didn’t exactly say that, but I wouldn’t be surprised.”

  That made our planned outing here more critical. But would we actually learn anything helpful? I didn’t really think so.

  I felt utterly depressed as we stopped in to give our greetings to Megan. What could I do to instantaneously assist Dante and Brody? I suspected that the call I intended to make might work the other way.

  Next, I headed to the infirmary to peek in at the wolf pups. They were growing. I wasn’t sure at what age they needed to be fed regurgitated food, but figured that time was fast approaching.

  The guys went on their ways without me, a good thing. One caretaker was in the back room of the infirmary, and I used the opportunity to question him about his opinion of Jon Doe. His name was Paul, and he didn’t seem excited about the interruption or interrogation. “I told everything I could to the cops,” he said, giving me the evil eye. “I didn’t know Jon well. He kept to himself. He did his work, and that was all the rest of us cared about.” He turned his back and hefted a big bag of food, obviously signaling that our discussion was over.

  Not that such a thing ever deterred me. “Did anyone ever come here to see him? Did he talk much on the phone?”

  But all I got was a shrug, so I gave up.

  Besides, I had better things to accomplish. Like make the phone call I’d been dying to make.

  I went outside to the rear of the infirmary and looked around. It was chilly here, and I stood on the dirt between the concrete building and the beginning of the lush sanctuary landscaping. I saw no one else. And of course I’d stay alert, just in case whoever had threatened me was present behind the facility’s fence.

  I pulled my notebook from my purse and pushed in the number I’d stolen from Dante, armed with the information about its source that Althea had given me. I waited nervously for someone to answer.

  “This is Gibson Callaway,” said a voice.

  I
took a deep breath before plunging in. I’d been pondering exactly what to say and how to say it, and all I’d been considering seemed to have evaporated. But I certainly knew the gist of it. “How are things at the Department of Justice today?”

  “Who is this?” he growled, and his tone made me look around yet again. All I saw moving was a beautiful hawk circling overhead. I knew I wasn’t his prey, and I certainly hoped I was no one else’s, either.

  “My name is Kendra Ballantyne, Mr. Callaway,” I began. “I think you may have heard of me, but in case you haven’t, I’m an attorney in Los Angeles. I’m also a good friend of Dante DeFrancisco’s and Brody Avilla’s.”

  A pause. “So you can drop names well. What do you want?”

  “Well, I’m unofficially looking into the murder of a man who went by the name of Jon Doe. I know you knew him under both that name and another. I’m still trying to confirm his former identity, and have narrowed it down to Jamison Dubbs and Jesse Dryler. Do they all sound familiar?”

  “No. Not at all. What the hell do you want? Make it fast, or I’ll hang up.”

  If none of this had rung a bell with him, I felt sure he’d have terminated the call immediately. I’d been careful to press numbers in to block his ability to use caller ID, but wasn’t sure how well it worked with a cell phone, or whether the government system overrode it. In any event, I’d felt it necessary to give my name, and he’d undoubtedly be able to find me.

  Something else to worry about.

  Even so, I pressed on.

  “So here’s the thing, Mr. Callaway. I know you’ve worked your way up to be an assistant to the director of one of the bureaus within the Office of Justice Procedures. Sounds impressive. But I’m aware of your work some years ago within the DOJ with Dante, Brody, and Jon Doe.” Well, okay, I was guessing here. “In the investigation of Jon Doe’s death, Dante and Brody have been the subject of some interrogation. I’m certain of their innocence”—I hoped—“and I want to rule out any possible connection with their employment all those years ago. Can you help me?”

  “No,” he spit into my ear. Good thing he was so far away. “I can’t. Goodbye, Ms … Ballantyne, was it?”

  “Yes, it was. And I just want to warn you, then, that if I don’t get cooperation from you, I have a very good friend who’ll cooperate with me. She’s a TV tabloid reporter, and quite excellent at digging out details of anything juicy she gets her claws into. Researching Jon Doe’s background, with the information I’ll be able to give her, should make her salivate. I’ll put her in touch with you soon. Goodbye, Mr. Callaway.”

  “Wait!” he all but shouted, which told me volumes. He wasn’t exactly acknowledging that what I’d implied was true, but he clearly wasn’t denying it, either. “Look, Ms. Ballantyne. You’re correct. I do work for the Department of Justice, and I stress the ‘justice’ part of that. If you believe that Mr. DeFrancisco and Mr. Avilla—both of whom are well-known people—are being unjustly accused of something, I’m willing to help. As it turns out, I have a trip scheduled to Los Angeles tomorrow. Is that where you’re calling from?”

  So he did have caller ID. My 818 phone number was a giveaway.

  “Nearby,” I said. I resisted a dig about what a coincidence this was, since I was certain it was anything but. He had good reason to talk to me in person.

  Which meant I’d better bring along a bodyguard or two.

  “Fine, then. Can we meet at about … say, two o’clock in the afternoon? I’ll find us an office to meet in at the federal courthouse there.”

  “Sounds good,” I said. “See you tomorrow.” Assuming I lived that long.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  I MADE A couple of additional quick calls. Then I ran to find Dante.

  I located Brody and him near the mountain lion lair, both talking to a couple of the groundskeepers. I gathered from body language that the discussion wasn’t especially productive. I motioned Dante aside, then told him I’d been on the phone.

  Oh, no, I wasn’t about to tell him whom I’d been talking to, or why. I acted admirably frantic when I asserted a pet-sitting emergency. I asked that he drop me back at the cabin so I could get my car as soon as possible. I had to head back to L.A. immediately with Lexie.

  With everything going on around him, and the concern he must be feeling about having to face the cops again this afternoon, I nearly melted at the look of absolute concern on his gorgeously sexy face as he stared into mine. “Anything I can do, Kendra? Is everyone okay? What kind of pet-sitting problem?”

  I put my arms around him and held him tight so he wouldn’t see my regretful expression as I lied. “It’ll be okay once I’m there. I just have a scheduling problem without enough backup, so I need to do it myself.”

  “Oh. Okay.” I felt his mouth moving my hair, and sighed.

  “I wish I could be here as moral support, at least, when you see Frank Hura again,” I said, “but I called Esther to make sure she’s on her way. Martin Skull, too, for Brody.” Martin Skull was another excellent criminal attorney whom I often recommended when there were two murder suspects I was attempting to help who had interests that could diverge. I’d mentioned him to Brody, who’d gone ahead and hired him.

  “I’ll let you know how it goes,” he told me. “Unless I’m in custody and can’t use a phone. If so, I’ll tell Esther to keep in touch about me.”

  “Oh, Dante,” I said sadly. “I wish I could do something to make this all go away for you.” And as it stood, what I was doing might only increase my own suspicions about him. But if all went well, I’d wind up with others I could point at with actual evidence. That’s absolutely what I hoped.

  SEVERAL HOURS LATER, Lexie and I were back in L.A. Dante had taken me to get my car, and my pup and I got on the road immediately. I kept a close eye on everything around me, considering the threats I’d received, but saw nothing at all untoward. And maybe, by leaving the area of HotWildlife, I was easing someone’s concerns about me enough to take away the danger.

  I wasn’t counting on that, though.

  It was late afternoon by the time we arrived. I’d spoken with Rachel and Wanda on the way, and we’d arranged for me to take back about half of my usual pet-sitting contingent that evening. That way, I wouldn’t have been entirely lying to Dante.

  At my office, Lexie on a leash at my side, I was greeted eagerly, as always, by perky Mignon at the reception desk. “Oh, Kendra, I’m so glad you’re here,” she chirped in her shrill voice, her head bobbing a nod that bounced her curly hair. “You’ve gotten phone messages from Alice Corcorian. I knew you were really busy, so I passed them on to Borden. I hope that’s okay.”

  “Perfect,” I reassured her. The place hummed with activity as Lexie and I headed down the corridor to my office. I left her in there with a bowl of water, then went to the biggest corner office—Borden’s.

  I knocked on his open door, and my dear, thin partner grinned as he looked up. “Kendra! I didn’t expect you. But it’s wonderful to see you, and such great timing. I’m off to meet with Alice Corcorian and Ellis. Care to come?”

  Of course, I did. I got Mignon to mind Lexie, whom I left in my office. And I knew Borden meant business, since his usual aloha shirt was white on white today, and he wore a navy jacket over it.

  Ellis Corcorian still practiced law with my former firm, which was now just Marden & Sergement. It was located in downtown L.A., and I felt as if I was coming home—not.

  Even so, there were plenty of people around whom I remembered as being nice to me. I popped my head into Avvie Milton’s office and gave her a brief hello. We couldn’t talk then, but her smile and wink suggested she’d been offered the job she’d interviewed for. I gave her a high five and exited to say hi to both Marden and Sergement. But I didn’t have time to fuss around with them. Neither did Borden. He was welcomed back with less exuberance, since he had walked off with a lot of the firm’s clients when he had opened a practice of his own.

  We were told that o
ur clients had just arrived, so we headed back to the reception area, where Alice Corcorian and her young fiancé, Roberto Guildon, were waiting.

  “We did as you told us, since we’re here on official business,” Alice said after hugging Borden and me. “We refused to go into Ellis’s office until you accompanied us as our legal representatives.” The lovely middle-aged lady looked affluent and elegant in her tailored silver suit. Roberto was clad more conservatively in black, with a red tie.

  I’d asked Borden, on the way there, what the meeting was about. And when he conveyed what our client intended, I’d been full of grins. Alice had absolutely heeded my advice—and how!

  Even so, I took all three of them aside so the receptionist and others in the area couldn’t hear us. “Here’s what Borden said you want to propose to get Ellis to back down from his opposition to your marriage.” And then I laid it out as I understood it.

  “Exactly,” Roberto said. He was the one who’d be most affected by the answer, and I smiled at him.

  Even so … “You should have your own lawyer to represent your rights at this kind of a meeting,” I admonished. “Borden and I were both hired by your fiancée.”

  “No way,” he said. “I know what I’m doing. And what it means to my future. But my intent was never to go after Alice’s money—only Alice.” The look that passed between them was so loving that I sighed and smiled all over again.

  Which was when Ellis Corcorian appeared in a doorway. “Come on in,” he said, and gave his mother a kiss on the cheek before leading us down the hall.

  His office was pretty much as I remembered—standard smooth and successful attorney. We settled down in a pleasant conversation area and a secretary brought us each coffee. Then Ellis said, “You called this meeting, Mother. What’s up?” Despite speaking to Alice, he aimed a suspicious glare toward Roberto from beneath his mousy brown brows.