There was no harm driving by the place, maybe peeking in a window or two. Right?
On a new mission, Addison raced to the Sunset address. When she pulled onto the street, it was like driving between two colorful walls. Solid row houses lined both sides of the street, not a breath between them. Even in the dark, she could see siding roted away, paint chipping, and windows cracking.
Most of the street parking had been taken, but she found a free spot farther down the street, far enough away that she wouldn’t be seen. The streetlight above her car had burnt out, casting her in shadow as she watched the house for signs of life.
The lights inside Charlotte’s plain Marina-style home were off, but the sporadic flashing through the angled bay windows on the second story told Addison that the TV was on in the living room. Someone was home.
Addison shut off the engine and killed the lights. Waiting for signs of movement, she sat back and watched the flickering windows. Only a few minutes went by before she saw a female-esque figure pass in front of a window, blocking the TV’s light for a second as she sat down in front of it.
Addison held off a while longer to see if Charlotte was alone or if there was anyone else in the house. To pass the time, she checked her website for any online reservations for the spa. When her calendar popped up on the screen, she grimaced. No bookings.
Pampered Puppies was still getting the odd walk-in from random passersby who hadn’t heard of the place, but business had practically trickled to a stop. If her business had been a movie, she would have sent it out of theaters and onto Netflix a week ago.
How things had changed for her. Only a few months earlier she’d presented her business plan to Aiden as an investor. She’d shown him numbers, pie charts, customer surveys, and market comparisons. Her Fido Fashion line was going to be a huge success. There was a demand for it, a hole in the market that her designs were perfect to fill.
It was supposed to be a blockbuster hit. Instead it was turning into a straight-to-DVD, right-to-the-bargain-bin idea. She’d never be able to help her dad out now. Maybe his love life was about to become as messy as hers was.
Keeping her eye on Charlotte’s house, she checked the RSVPs for her fashion show. She held her breath as the screen refreshed. Then it whooshed out in a disappointed sigh as the message popped up.
Zero guests.
Her grip tightened around her phone, breaking off a pink rhinestone. She wasn’t giving up that easily. Tucking the phone into her jacket pocket, she slipped out of her Mini and onto the sidewalk. The street was poorly lit, helping to hide her approach, but she was still cautious.
Her head swiveled, on the lookout for witnesses. Thankfully it was late enough that most of the neighbors had turned in for the night. When the coast looked clear, she approached Charlotte’s home.
Since the Marina-style house sat above the garage, most of the windows were on the second story. That night’s recon mission was going to take some acrobatics.
So far she’d been lucky enough to spy on suspects living in wealthy homes, but the rundown row house was crammed between two identical houses on either side in typical San Francisco fashion. She studied the stucco facade, searching for a way up to the second story, but it seemed her best bet was to climb up the front of the home.
The only part of the structure that stuck out enough to get a handhold on was a drainpipe that ran down one corner of the house. She shook it to check for sturdiness, and then tested her weight on the bracket holding the pipe in place, bouncing on it a couple of times.
Headlights flashed against the white stucco facade. It glowed all around her, warning her of an approaching car.
She dropped to the ground and crept along the side of the house. The only thing to hide behind was an oversized bush bursting with trumpet-shaped flowers. Squeezing between it and the house’s rough siding, she waited for the vehicle to pass.
The rumbling sound of the engine drew near. She waited for it to fade off into the distance, but instead the noise slowed to a chug. Gravel crunched as the car pulled up to the curb, the engine puttering just outside her hiding spot.
The driver shut off the engine and it clicked as it cooled down, like a hammer banging in the night, so loud on the quiet street. Or maybe that was Addison’s heart.
Keys jingled, a door slammed, heavy footsteps approached.
Addison pressed herself harder against the house, kicking herself for not learning to say no to the occasional second helping of Mad Mousse and Orange Peel ice cream. She wished the person wouldn’t come too close, wouldn’t glance her way and spot her. She wished it so hard that she made a silent promise to herself that the diet would start tomorrow.
Addison held as still as she could in case a mere twitch sent the leaves rustling, giving her away. A tickle on her arm had her squirming, imagining it to be the worst kind of shrub spider there was. But she gritted her teeth and waited as the person passed her by.
The footsteps changed rhythm, and she realized they were climbing Charlotte’s stairs. Of all the houses on the street, why that one?
With the stress of that night, Addison definitely needed a pint of Peppermint Marshmallow ice cream when she got home. Make that fat-free sherbet, she added in her head, remembering her promise.
The doorbell rang inside Charlotte’s home. There was shuffling from within as she came to answer the door.
It’s a bit late for a visit, Addison thought. Charlotte must have known the person. Either it was a booty call or a meeting she didn’t want anyone to know about—sometimes those things were synonymous.
But only two days remained until the dog show began. Something told her chances were slim that it was just an average house call. Everyone knew secret bad guy dealings only happened at night. Every blockbuster thriller couldn’t be wrong. If that was the case, she’d be ready with her phone to record the two evildoers explaining their dognapping plans in full detail, which is what bad guys always did.
She inched her way along the house, careful not to rustle the leaves. She peered around the corner and up the stairs to Charlotte’s door. The man’s face was turned away from her, but she’d recognize those hot buns in those faded jeans any day. Felix.
Her eyes widened, and she scrambled back before he could see her. Through the gaps in the bush she could see the van parked next to the sidewalk with JOE’S DIVE written on the side.
Addison was shaking worse than ever now. Maybe because Felix would be pissed if he knew she was there spying on Charlotte. Maybe because of what had passed between them at Phillip’s house earlier that night. Or maybe it was jealousy that suddenly flared inside of her at the sight of him standing at Charlotte’s door.
Addison’s breaths left her in panicked pants until she worried that he might hear. There was a squeak as the front door opened.
“Felix,” Charlotte said. “I’m so glad you came.”
There was so much longing in her voice, almost desperate with emotion—like she would have burst into tears if he’d taken any longer to arrive.
“Of course I came. I’ll always come when you call.” His response was thick with sincerity.
Addison closed her eyes. She’d thought this was an evil rendezvous, but she realized a long time ago that Felix couldn’t be involved. He had too much on the line. So did that mean his visit was for the other reason? Was he there for a booty call? Felix said he and Charlotte were just friends. It couldn’t be.
Her hands balled at her sides, her gel nails digging into her soft skin until she wanted to cry out. Their voices faded as Felix went inside. The door closed, and Addison was alone again.
Scrambling out of her hiding spot, she returned to the drainpipe and crammed her designer shoe onto the bracket. Thankfully her toes were pointed and fit nicely into the space.
Using the drainpipe and the electrical pipe running next to it, she shimmied her way up the front of the house. She broke two nails along the way, and quickly realized her fashionable shoes weren’t exactly ma
de for breaking and entering. They slipped and scraped over the metal, probably rubbing the leather raw—at least she’d bought them on a wicked online sale.
Finally, she reached the windowsill on the second floor. The wood felt rotted and weak beneath her fingers, but she leaned against it to peer into the living room. The split in her dress allowed her to sprawl against the facade of the house like Spider-Man. She knew that if anyone drove by at that moment, she’d be totally busted, but she just couldn’t resist.
Charlotte had flicked a couple of warm lights on in the living room. Addison scanned the old home just in time to see them climb to the top of the stairs. Felix pulled off his leather jacket, looking at ease in the surroundings. He’d barely hung it on the coat rack before Charlotte threw herself into his arms.
Addison gasped. Her foot slipped and she gripped the windowsill for dear life. But instead of climbing back down to safety, she leaned in closer.
Her breath fogging up the window, she waited for Felix to shove Charlotte away, to hold up a hand and say, “Sorry, but there’s only one girl for me.” And of course that one girl would be Addison.
But he didn’t. Because she’d insulted him, she’d dismissed him time and time again. Just a couple of hours before, she’d told him she didn’t want him and then made him watch her make out with another man.
Felix didn’t hesitate. His arms encircled Charlotte, drawing her close to him as he rubbed her back slowly. She slumped against him in relief.
Addison couldn’t see what happened after that because everything was suddenly blurry. She reached up to the window to wipe away the fog until she realized it was her tears obscuring the view.
Climbing back down to ground level, Addison headed back to her car. All she wanted now was to go home to Princess, eat a whole gallon of Triple Chocolate ice cream, and watch a marathon of chick flicks because there was nothing left for her there. That happily ever after was now a happily never after.
24
Wienerella
High heels and wingtips clicked and clacked on weathered wooden planks over the dark waters of the bay. Rocking gently on the waves that lapped the dock posts, the San Francisco Belle stood like a grand river castle. Only instead of turrets and throne rooms, it had three enclosed decks topped with a sundeck to enjoy the clear night. Its captain was its king, and its loyal subjects were a mix of show dogs and their entourages.
Addison stood at the bottom of the gangway admiring the paddleboat. Strings of lights wrapped around every railing and post to create a magical effect, lighting up the turn-of-the-last-century riverboat like a floating lantern in the night.
Cinderella had made it to the ball. And Addison certainly felt like Cinderella in her pink and black tulle ball gown. Even Princess had pulled out all the stops in her morganite collar necklace and matching tiara.
In other words, they looked fabulous, and they were ready to attend the ball. Only it wasn’t to meet Addison’s prince. Her prince turned out to be, well, someone else’s prince. And Phillip? She supposed it was still a possibility. That was why she’d agreed to meet him at the gala. To give it a chance.
Phillip was still all those things she’d first thought him to be: handsome, magnanimous, polite. But somehow all those things had lost their appeal. Each time she tried to conjure up an image of Mr. Perfect, an image of Felix’s face would pop into her fantasy or she would recall his belly laugh or how he looked tucked up next to his daughter in her My Little Pony bed. That would open the floodgates to all sorts of funny feelings, like she imagined Oscar nominees got when the drums rolled and the winner’s name was announced—and it wasn’t them.
Addison drew herself up and mentally focused on the night ahead. She wasn’t there for the prince anyway. Sure, Phillip would be there and she’d talk to him, dance with him, give him a chance, because maybe even Cinderella had doubts. But first and foremost, she was there to protect the remaining dogs and hopefully catch the criminal in the act if they were stupid enough to try anything.
It was her last chance to rescue the dogs of people like Alistair, and Julia, and even Rex Harris, to salvage her business, and to save Felix’s job.
So grasping her oversized skirts, Addison hoisted them up and squeezed her way across the narrow gangway with Princess in tow on her jeweled leash. The doxie’s glittering open-pawed shoes sparkled beneath the multitude of string lights as they approached the deck.
There to greet them at the other end was someone that, if the dog-doo hit the hair dryer that night, Addison knew would have her back.
“Zoe!”
Her friend looked up from her tablet. She held out her arms and hugged Addison in a way reserved for when girls are all dolled up and don’t want to smudge makeup or mess up hair.
“Addy. I’m so glad you came.”
“I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” Addison remained in her friend’s arms a few seconds longer than normal, soaking up the love. She’d texted Piper and Zoe late the night before for some moral support, so they were up to speed, but Addison was in definite need of some girl time.
“You look great.”
“Thanks for not crossing me off the guest list,” Addison said. “I’m sure there will be more than one guest not thrilled to see me tonight.”
“If they’ve got a problem with my guest list, they can deal with me.” Zoe flicked her jet-black hair, like Bring it on. “Besides, it’s not a party if my best friends aren’t here.”
Addison pitied any soul who decided to take Zoe on. “Are Piper and Aiden already here?”
“Yeah, I think they’re at the bar on the second deck.”
An older couple crossed the gangway behind Addison, holding their pugs in their arms. Since Addison’s massive dress was blocking the entrance, she moved to leave as Zoe brought up the guest list on her tablet again.
“Go enjoy yourself,” Zoe told Addison. “You can leave Princess on the sundeck. She’ll be safe there.”
“Thanks.”
“Oh,” she called out after her. “I should warn you. Holly Hart’s here. Sorry.” She pulled a face. “It couldn’t be helped. She’s someone’s plus-one.”
“Great.” Addison rolled her eyes. Just what she needed. “Good luck tonight.” She waved as she headed toward the double doors and into the enclosed lower deck.
The moment she stepped inside, Addison felt wrapped in luxury. It certainly didn’t look like a normal boat interior to her. Rich carpet softened her steps as she made her way to the central lobby staircase that doubled back on itself overhead. The chandelier dangling from the very top shed warm light on the gold bannisters and swirling rail designs. She followed them to the very top and then found a secondary staircase that took her to the open sundeck.
As she stepped out into the open air, her heels sank into soft grass. The entire sundeck had been laid with sod for the dogs to play and roll around on. A white picket fence wrapped around the deck rail, a cute continuation of the yardlike theme. It also prevented the curious teacups and minis from squeezing through the rail gaps and doing a somersault dive into the water far below.
Enough kennels to house each and every dog in attendance lined one side. Bright red fire hydrants, where the dogs marked their territory, were placed at intervals between them.
A dog minder approached Addison, dressed in his postal worker’s uniform. She snickered, but didn’t think the minder would find it funny, so she stifled it before she handed Princess over. The minder took her name and asked for ID. She gave her doxie a kiss good-bye before Princess trotted over for a drink of water from an oversized dish that looked like a toilet bowl.
She watched Princess for a few moments, hesitant to leave her behind. As she eyed up the other guests out on the deck, they seemed just as nervous. They weren’t the ones she needed to be concerned about.
As though sensing her reluctance, the minder said, “Don’t worry. They’re perfectly safe up here. There are only two entrances onto this deck.” He pointed them out on eac
h side of the grassy area. “We know everyone who comes and goes from here. No one is taking anyone’s dogs tonight.”
She knew he was right. They were three stories high. Besides, she couldn’t very well keep Princess with her while she was trying to investigate.
“Thanks,” she told him.
“If it’s an evacuation you’re worried about, the kennels on board are all designed to float on water.” He gestured to the kennels.
Addison noticed for the first time that they had plastic, waterproof doors instead of open wire ones. The top was punctured with several breathing holes and the bases were oversized, probably heavy enough to stay upright but buoyant enough to keep even a mastiff afloat.
Addison wondered if she should remind him that dogs actually swam, but then she remembered how far they’d be from shore and how small and delicate some of the show dogs aboard would be. It was actually a pretty good idea. Even if it was just for the owners’ peace of mind.
With one more glance at Princess—who’d found a stuffed cat toy to chew on—she went to look around the deck. Although there were dog minders to pick up after the guests, Addison hiked up her dress, careful not to drag it as she made her way to the rail. She peered over the white picket fence at the view of the docks below.
Zoe couldn’t have picked a more perfect venue. The paddleboat must have been forty or fifty feet tall, which meant that once they’d cast off, no one—two legged or four legged—was going to sneak on or off the boat. The dogs would be completely protected.
Maybe Addison really had nothing to worry about, after all. But if it was impossible to steal more dogs, she realized that she might lose her last opportunity to uncover the dognapper.
Deckhands scrambled below, their movements practiced and swift as they prepared to cast off. Addison studied them with suspicion, watching for any odd behaviors or clues—like grappling hooks or suction cups stuffed into their pockets revealing them as some kind of Mission: Impossible agents or something.
Beauty and the Wiener Page 25
