by Cindy Sample
“I’m not surprised. So what’s your father going to do?” I asked before realization sunk in.
“Oh, no. We are not adding a dog to this family.” I turned my gaze over to Kristy, who so far had let Ben handle their puppy petition. “And I’m sure your father would agree with me. We are all far too busy to take on another pet at this time. And Pumpkin would hate having a dog around.”
“My pop said it was fine with him,” Kristy replied.
Ben nodded. “Yep, he said it would teach us”—he pointed to his stepsister and then back to himself—“to be more responsible.”
My husband, the traitor.
“When did you discuss this with Tom?” I asked the twosome.
“Yesterday. We waited and waited for you to come home so we could ask you. But you were late,” Ben said accusingly.
“Your mother has different responsibilities now. And my hours will probably become even crazier. Which is why we won’t be able to add a dog into our lives.”
The doorbell rang. I glanced at the clock. Who could be calling at eight o’clock in the morning? The kids jumped out of their chairs and raced to answer it.
My stomach sank when I realized who was standing on our doorstep.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
“Are you freaking kidding me?” I tried not to shriek, but it was far too early to be greeted by my ex-husband and his furry companion.
His really huge black-and-white companion.
“Hey, I thought you were cool with adding him to your family,” Hank said. “Tom didn’t object.”
My husband and I were headed for a lengthy discussion today. In the meantime, the ginormous dog managed to work his way into the foyer. He sat in the middle of my wood-plank entry, his head tilted to the left, deep brown eyes gazing soulfully at me.
I tilted my own head. “Why did he sit in that puddle?” I asked Hank before my caffeine-deprived brain did the math.
“Get a towel, Ben,” I ordered my son before sending Hank and his oversized pet back to the porch stoop.
“He’s not even trained,” I complained.
“He’s just stressed,” Hank replied as the dog took care of the rest of his business by one of the evergreen bushes.
“That makes two of us.” I took the towel Ben handed me, then gave it back to him. The kids might as well get their first lesson in dog care.
“So why are you here at this hour?” I asked Hank. “We need to have a family meeting before we add a dog to the mix.”
“I’ve got an urgent job that came up. Do you remember Donald Lange, he owns a mammoth vacation home on the west shore of Lake Tahoe? He just drove up to the lake for the first time in four months and discovered his pipes froze. The place is a disaster.”
“That’s tough.”
“Tough for him, but a great opportunity for me,” Hank said with a sly grin. “The only hitch is I need to head up the hill immediately. Which is why I’m standing on your doorstep with man’s best friend.”
I sighed. “I suppose we could watch him on a trial basis. He would certainly help keep the kids occupied this summer.”
Both kids threw their arms around me. “Thanks, Mom.” Then Ben and Kristy raced up the stairs with their new pal galloping behind them.
My ex turned to go when I stopped him. “Hey, you never told me his name.”
Hank grinned. “Scout. A perfect addition to your detective agency.”
Two puddles and one broken vase later, this frazzled mother sat at the kitchen table relishing the quiet. A peaceful moment that wouldn’t last long. And, based on our morning, would rarely make an appearance with the new addition to our family. I stared out the window and couldn’t help grinning as I watched the kids playing with our new boarder, a one-hundred-fifty-pound Bernese mountain dog.
Just what we needed. Another family member with a big appetite and a small bladder. Although considering my recent record, Scout might prove more successful as a detective than me. He’d already dug up one of Ben’s missing shoes from under the kids’ trampoline.
I decided it was long past time for me to create a “to detect” list for my increasing caseload. No one loved lists better than me, except possibly my mother, the most organized person I knew. Although the best part of utilizing to-do lists was when you got to scratch an item off.
I grabbed a pen and lined pad from one of our junk drawers, refilled my coffee cup, then plunked back down in the kitchen chair and began writing.
1. Resolve Iris’s timeshare issue. While it wasn’t the most urgent topic on my agenda, it was my first real case and I was determined to see it through.
2. Determine who killed Gregg Morton. While his murder probably shouldn’t command a spot on the list, with Gran still a primary suspect, it needed to be addressed.
3. Find out who killed Gino. And why.
I gnawed on my lower lip as I reviewed the list, a far cry from my normal weekly shopping lists. Especially since two of the three items involved a murder. Deep in thought, I almost didn’t hear my cell vibrate. I’d forgotten to turn the ringer back on.
I stood and grabbed the phone, hoping it was Tom calling with an explanation for his early departure. I grimaced when I saw my caller’s name.
“Adriana, are you doing okay?”
“Really? Do you seriously expect me to be okay when my beloved fiancé was just killed?”
“No, of course not. Just letting you know I care how you’re doing.”
Her tone softened as she replied, “Thanks. I appreciate that. And I realize it probably wasn’t your fault Gino was killed.”
Thanks. I think.
“So what can I do for you?”
“I contacted the South Lake Tahoe police like you recommended, but they didn’t say much, or even ask me too many questions. I told them how Gino and I met, how long we’ve been dating, and where I was yesterday when it”—her voice wobbled but she continued—“happened.”
“I’m sure they’ll have more questions for you later on. And for his co-workers. They’ll have a ton of data to pore through.”
“Right. That’s why I’m calling you. I think we should go through Gino’s house before the police drive down here.”
“Gino’s house? You mean together?”
“Yes, of course together. Between us, we might find something the police wouldn’t realize was important.”
“I didn’t realize Gino had given you a key to his house.”
The line went quiet for a few seconds before she responded. “Well, not exactly. I, um, sort of, removed a key from his keychain one night, made a copy, then returned it. He always used his garage clicker to enter the house, so he never noticed it had been missing.”
Hmm. I wondered if Gino had realized how sneaky his fiancée was.
“When do you want to get together?” I asked, not sure when Tom would be home, although Jenna could watch the kids. She’d joined them in the backyard and all three of them laughed as Scout romped around the yard.
“I’ll be at your house in five minutes or less.”
Alrighty then.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
Adriana pulled her Lexus coupe into our driveway, right behind Tom’s SUV, which had arrived seconds earlier. I stood on the front porch, attired in my oversized T-shirt and shorts, since Adriana hadn’t left me any time to change.
Tom got out of his vehicle and greeted Adriana. They chatted and walked down the sidewalk together.
“I’m sorry you were too busy to handle my case,” she said to Tom. “I’m sure my fiancé would still be alive if you’d been in charge.”
My cheeks burned at her insinuation, and I was tempted to tell her to hit the road, but professional courtesy as well as a paycheck for the agency quelled my internal indignation.
“We’re sorry for your loss,” he said in a sincere tone before giving me the once-over. “What are you up to, Laurel?”
“Five-foot-four and a quarter,” I said in jest, but neither of them laughed.
“You didn’t give me much notice,” I replied. “Come on in. You can update Tom on your situation while I change into something more suitable. All right with you, hon?” I said to my husband with a heavy emphasis on “hon.”
Tom’s heavy brown eyebrows drew together, but he merely nodded and ushered Adriana into the living room. I fled, taking the steps two at a time and wistfully hoping Tom would be more receptive to my investigating once Adriana shared her sad story.
I threw on a colorful Madras top and capri pants, and added some mascara, blush and lipstick to my otherwise pale face, managing to join them in less than seven minutes. Based on Adriana’s nose twitching when she saw me, I should have spent more time rummaging through my closet.
The first question out of Tom’s mouth had nothing to do with Gino’s demise. Instead, he pointed to the backyard and asked, “Is that a horse in our backyard?”
“Nope. That’s Hank’s dog. The one he rescued. He said you agreed that we would keep him. It would have been nice to have been consulted on that matter,” I said in a low voice as I plopped next to Tom on the sofa.
“What? I never agreed to any such thing. Hank completely misinterpreted what I said.”
Not the first time Hank had done such a thing. He probably figured the kids would fall in love with the dog and our acceptance of Scout as a permanent house guest was a fait accompli.
“You better call Hank and tell him to come get his dog,” Tom said.
“How about you tell the kids about your decision first.” I stood, indicating to Adriana it was time to go. She rose from the sofa, checking the skirt of her sundress for any stray hairs our new pet might have left behind.
“Adriana and I have work to do.”
Adriana and I drove off before Tom could respond. I was almost grateful for her company because it meant putting off some major marital discussions. Blending two families required patience, flexibility and the ability to compromise.
Plus, a whole lot of love.
Adriana remained quiet throughout most of the drive, as did I. As we drew nearer to Gino’s house in Granite Bay, I broke the silence.
“What do you expect to find in Gino’s house?” I asked.
She sent a quick glance my way, then focused back on her driving. “I don’t know. You’re the detective.” She thumped the steering wheel with her right fist. “Don’t you have some ideas?”
“Based on his recent behavior, and his murder, Gino must have been involved in some kind of illegal activity.”
She shrugged as she hit the signal to turn into Gino’s subdivision. As we drew near his house, I debated whether or not we should park in his driveway or farther down the street. Adriana made her own decision by pulling into the driveway and turning off her car.
“I’m not sure we should park here,” I said. “We’re so obvious.”
“Why not? I’m Gino’s girlfriend. I have a right to be here.”
“I don’t know if that’s true. But let’s just go in and get this over with.” My eyes roamed around the neighborhood. No one outside their houses checking up on us so far. “I wonder if Gino’s neighbors know what happened to him. As far as I can tell, his name still hasn’t been released to the media yet.”
Adriana’s door slammed shut, indicating she was done talking for now. So much for my observation. She motioned for me to hurry up so I did.
Once inside Gino’s house, I breathed a little easier.
“How did you know the code?” I asked as she disarmed his security system with speedy precision.
She blushed. “Oh, I pay attention to stuff.”
The woman was devious enough to be a detective. I could take lessons from her. We decided to split up. Adriana would take Gino’s bedroom, which was fine with me. I was not a fan of searching through men’s underwear drawers. She pointed me toward his office on the opposite side of the sprawling ranch house, and I headed that way.
I passed Gino’s immaculate kitchen, wishing mine were as tidy. My standards had lowered in recent months. I considered it a success when most of the dishes made it into the dishwasher the same day.
I would have loved to examine Gino’s house inch by inch, not only for detecting reasons, but for a few decorating tips. But I worried the South Lake Tahoe police would not be far behind us, and I wanted to concentrate on any personal or professional records he’d stored at his house.
I pulled a pair of disposable gloves from my purse since I knew better than to leave any fingerprints. As Gino’s fiancée, Adriana was free to lay her palm across every surface of his house.
Gino’s office was a traditional masculine office with a modern cast. Dark cherrywood mixed with solid black surfaces. Floor-to-ceiling bookshelves filled with books and DVDs covered two walls.
I glanced at my watch. Going through Gino’s office would be a monumental task. Should I look through the obvious? File cabinets, drawers, bookshelves? Or try to find more unusual hiding places like in the family Bible. Or hidden in one of the DVD boxes. Which could take forever.
Especially since I had no clue what I was looking for.
If I were Gino, what would I do? He certainly didn’t expect anything to happen to him this weekend. So any relevant clues to some type of illicit activity might be hidden, or rather not hidden, as in plain sight.
Unless Gino realized what a nosy Nancy his fiancée was. Which meant he might not have anything tied to any nefarious activities stored in the house.
Still, if I were a crook, I would worry about keeping anything pointing to criminal activities in my place of employment.
Which brought me back to ground zero. Gino’s home office.
I settled into Gino’s well-padded desk chair. Comfy. The man didn’t stint on his home décor. What would happen to all of his furnishings, his house? Who personally benefitted from his death? Family? Charities? Adriana? Another question I’d have to run by my client.
I looked around for any sign of a computer but could only find a printer and modem. Gino must have taken his laptop to the hotel, which meant the police most likely were in possession of it by now. The drawers of his contemporary-style desk opened easily enough. They were filled with ordinary business supplies, envelopes, etc.
A three-tier tray stood on the corner of his desk. The top shelf contained mail that had been opened and thrust into the tray. While I would hesitate to open his sealed mail, these previously opened envelopes seemed to be calling my name.
Ah ha. For a man with a supposedly lucrative profession, Gino appeared to be deep in credit card debt. Five-figure debt on three different cards. I didn’t even know you could get credit card lines as high as $50,000.
Where was all that money going?
The next envelope proved even more mysterious. Not only did Gino have enormous credit card bills, but he owed a Reno finance company some serious dough. And I had a feeling said finance company probably charged even more exorbitant interest rates than the credit card companies.
I grabbed the bills and headed toward the other end of the house. As I neared Gino’s bedroom, a scream echoed down the hallway, followed by heartbreaking sobs.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
I burst into the master bedroom to find Adriana sprawled across the burgundy-and-navy bedspread, sobbing her heart out.
“What’s the matter?” I dropped down next to her. A pile of cards, letters and envelopes lay strewn across the Ralph Lauren bedding. Had she discovered more traces of Gino’s profligate spending? Or proof he was involved in another intimate relationship?
She sat up and pointed to the colorful cards dotting the bedspread. “He saved them.”
“Saved what?” I asked.
“All of the cards and notes I sent him,” she whimpered. “Every single one. I think Gino really did love me.”
“Of course he did,” I assured her, although I was also surprised at her discovery. Despite some of the things I’
d recently learned about Gino, it seemed apparent he truly cared for Adriana.
“And if it hadn’t been for me hiring you, Gino would still be alive today. It’s all my fault.” She burst into tears once again. I looked around but couldn’t spot any tissues, so I went into the master bath and brought a few back for her.
“Adriana, I’m relieved we’ve confirmed Gino’s feelings for you, but given some of the information I just found, Gino had a few financial issues. Which may or may not have had any bearing on his murder. Keep in mind Gino didn’t accidentally die. Someone killed him. Murder happens for a reason.”
“I suppose,” she burbled, wiping her eyes with the tissue, which only served to turn her into a Rocky Raccoon lookalike.
I went into the bathroom again, grabbed a washcloth, wet it, then returned to the bedroom. Adriana stood in front of a four-drawer bureau, grimacing at her reflection in the overhead mirror. She peered over her shoulder at me.
“Did you find anything revealing?” she asked.
“Did you know Gino was in debt? Big-time.”
I could see her scrunching her face in the mirror. “Don’t be silly. Gino makes, I mean made, an excellent living. He treated me very well.”
“Based on his credit card bills, he treated himself very well. He spent a ton of money at the big casinos. Did Gino have a gambling problem?”
She whirled around. “No. Why?”
“It looks like he owed money to the casinos and possibly a loan shark.”
“A loan shark? Really?”
“Well, someone named Louie’s Loans sent Gino a bill a few months ago with an astronomical sum of money due.”
She plopped back on the bed, silent for a few seconds before she sat up again. “Gino did play poker with some friends occasionally. And one weekend when we went to Lake Tahoe, he made a small killing at the craps table.” Her eyes started to water again. “That was the weekend he proposed and bought me my ring. He said I brought him good luck.” She looked forlornly at her diamond. “I guess not so much.”
