“I’m happy to meet you, Ms. Webster. Hank Miller has told me so much about you. That’s in addition to the news coverage you’ve recently received. I’m Officer Denver Clemons,” she said as she stepped forward and stuck out her hand. I must have had a puzzled expression on my face. Denver struck me as an unusual name for a woman who’d obviously grown up in California.
“My dad was a sports fanatic. It’s Denver as in the Denver Broncos. It’s better than Bronco Clemons!” When she smiled, her eyes danced, and I was instantly won over by her good humor.
“Call me Miriam, please, Denver. Thanks for your help. This must be an odd assignment!”
“So far, it’s been an easy one. I haven’t had much opportunity to do undercover work, so it’s a welcome change of pace. Besides, Mr. Handsome, here, has been an awesome pal to have around. I wish I could keep him, but I live in a tiny apartment in Santa Maria. Pets aren’t welcome. I had to sneak him into my place last night. Domino seems pleased to meet him.” Domino’s tail was wagging wildly, and the two dogs had exchanged friendly woofs the moment they spotted each other.
“Fleck, say hello to Miriam.” The dog stepped forward and offered me his paw, which I shook. “He’s obviously a friendly, well-trained dog. His foster mom took him in after his family lost their home in a fire.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Fleck,” I said. That greeting earned me a woof, and a friendly nuzzle.
“So, what happens now?” I asked as I dug out treats for the adorable pair of spotted dogs. They were very similar in appearance although Fleck was larger than Domino. I handed Neely a container. “Treats for us,” I said before giving Denver a chance to respond.
“I can tell you what I’m doing next,” Neely said. “We’re having a cup of tea, unless you’d prefer coffee, Denver. Mm, and with doughnuts in honor of our special guest, huh? They’re no ordinary doughnuts, are they?” She asked as their aroma hit her.
“Earl Grey doughnuts with a brown butter glaze,” I responded.
“Those look amazing,” Denver added as Neely let her peek at them. “Tea and doughnuts are a great idea. Once we’ve established that you stopped by and dropped off a few things for your friend, you’re going to run errands. I’ll leave here in your car.” She paused, eying those doughnuts as Neely set them out on a plate and poured tea for us.
“My plan is to take Fleck to a park for a run and then drive to Duneville Down, fill up the tank at the truck stop just off the highway, and then visit several stores. My partner is waiting near the guard gate. He’ll follow me to see if I pick up a tail. He won’t wait until anyone approaches me. If he spots the same car anywhere near me more than once, he’ll call in the plates, and someone in a patrol car will have a chat with the driver. We don’t want to do anything to blow my cover if I need to play this out for another day or two.” She smiled again and patted Fleck’s head. “I hope it wasn’t too inconvenient preparing for last minute guests.”
“Less trouble than being hassled by Jimmy Dunn or ending up the way he did.” Denver laughed as Neely led us to the kitchen table, and we slipped into chairs.
“I can understand that. He sure fits the profile of a wise guy, doesn’t he?”
“As in mobster?” I asked, glancing at Neely. Denver nodded, but couldn’t speak since she’d taken a bite of the doughnut on her plate. Neely shrugged as she chomped on her doughnut. Apparently, Hank hadn’t let her in on everything they found out about my dead stalker.
“Good grief! I thought Darnell was being ridiculous when he talked about someone putting out a hit on me. You’ll take care of Domino if I end up like Jimmy Dunn, won’t you, Neely?” That struck Denver as funny, and she laughed heartily.
“Honestly, I doubt the Ohio mob would chase you all the way to California for the ten thousand dollars your husband borrowed. If I had to make a guess, I’d say Jimmy Dunn was on the run, tracked you down to see if he could squeeze you for a quick twenty K on his way to Mexico. Maybe, he was already in the area when your name and face were splashed all over the media after the murder of Shakespeare’s ghost.”
“He wasn’t a very smart wise guy, was he?” Neely asked. “If Pete could have gotten his hands on that kind of money, why would he have borrowed money from the likes of Jimmy Dunn?”
“Jimmy Dunn might have figured you’d ended up with money from your husband’s life insurance and wanted a cut,” Denver suggested.
“Pete borrowed against that, too. I’m afraid my husband had more ambition than brains in his effort to escape his humdrum life at the cost of dealing with crooks.”
“You know what Dickens had to say about that.” Denver and I both shook our heads no. “It’s from Great Expectations: If you can't get to be uncommon through going straight, you'll never get to do it through going crooked.”
“I wouldn’t have put it so eloquently, but I could have told him that if Pete had let me in on his secrets. I could have sworn that his common sense would have made it clear to him without needing to say it. He was always an uncommon man to me.” I looked away as tears welled up in my eyes.
“Well, I doubt Jimmy Dunn would have been wise enough to get the point even if Dickens himself had told him that. He must have been plenty desperate to accost you in broad daylight. All this cloak and dagger stuff is insurance against the possibility that we’re wrong about Dunn, or that Dunn’s killer is in ‘might as well’ mode.” I stared at her blankly. “You know, ‘I’ve come all this way to put an end to Jimmy Dunn’s worthless life so I might as well shake down Pete’s widow for the money he borrowed.’”
“No one ever mentioned there’d be such a high price to pay for my fifteen minutes of fame,” I groaned.
“I’m sure Hank has other angles he’s working,” Neely said, patting my arm.
“True. Hank may have a lead on the woman who was with Dunn at Dickens’ Dune, despite the fact you didn’t get a good look at her. If Jimmy Dunn’s killer is any smarter than his target, he’ll already have slinked back to wherever he came from before getting his fifteen minutes of fame. They got a look at him on some surveillance camera, and someone thought they spotted him near The Blue Haven Resort, but it didn’t pan out.”
“Did that happen yesterday soon after they found Jimmy Dunn in the golf cart?” I asked. She nodded, yes. At least I now knew why Hank and Darnell had taken off at a sprint, but it’s too bad the culprit was still at large.
“Please tell me there are more of these doughnuts at your house,” Denver added, changing the subject.
“Yes, there are. I’m sorry Domino and I can’t be there to make sure you’re comfortable. I’ve posted my cellphone number along with the information about our hotel in Pismo Beach. I’m sure the constabulary can track me down if your questions are about the police investigation, but feel free to call me on my cellphone if you can’t find a can opener or if something breaks down. I can solve that problem quicker than the police can. Here’s the code for the security system—you’ve got ninety seconds to punch it in before the alarm sounds.”
“Is there a good pizza place that delivers?” Denver asked.
“The number for pizza delivery is on a list of numbers for local eateries I frequent on occasion, along with the drug store and pharmacy I use, my grocery store, the post office, and Domino’s vet in case Fleck needs attention. There’s a pasta salad in the fridge for dinner, fresh-baked muffins for breakfast, and treats for Fleck in a little plastic container on the kitchen island. Make yourself at home in the guest room. Fleck should too. Dogs are allowed on the furniture.”
“Wow! You’ve thought of everything. Your baking is legendary. Hank’s sure no dummy. He told me you’d probably leave me treats. He knows you pretty well, doesn’t he?” I felt a warm rush of gratitude mixed in with the embarrassment Denver’s smirk induced.
“Given all the trouble we’ve been in, he probably knows me better than he ever dreamed he would when we first met. Poor man,” I said.
“Don’t feel sorry for h
im. The word on the street is that he’s in a better mood than he’s been in for years. I’ve also heard it’s more than the sugar in the sweets you bake, that’s done that.” She beamed that good-natured smile at me again. Then she abruptly stood, took her cup and plate to the kitchen sink. “Time to get this show on the road. Hank will call you if there are any important developments. I’m supposed to tell you to enjoy your getaway and stay out of trouble. Hank’s authority doesn’t extend to San Luis Obispo.”
I placed the keys to my house and car into the hand Denver held out. She slipped on the sunglasses and a bright red baseball cap and led Fleck to the front door. Domino whined when I held her by the collar to keep her from dashing after Denver and her new best friend, Fleck. We followed at a distance. On the porch, Neely and Denver played out the part of two friends saying a quick goodbye before Denver got into my car that I’d left in the driveway.
We cleaned up Neely’s kitchen and repacked my belongings in the suitcases Neely had dragged out. Then Neely insisted that I take one more precaution by donning a blond wig before we left for Pismo Beach in her car. Domino did as I asked and lay in her harness sprawled out on the backseat until we were in Pismo Beach. She needed a nap after racing back and forth with Fleck in Neely’s hallway. Even disguised as a blonde with no spotted doggie taking in the view, I kept a watchful eye on the road. Being an afterthought or a “might as well” wasn’t any better in my book than being a hitman’s primary target.
9 An Innocent Man?
“Circumstances may accumulate so strongly even against an innocent man, that directed, sharpened, and pointed, they may slay him.” ~ The Mystery of Edwin Drood
∞
It took us less than an hour to make the drive from Seaview Cottages to Pismo Beach. When Neely pulled up in front of one of the swankiest resorts I’d ever seen, my mouth dropped open. I’d visited the Ritz Carlton in Cleveland for a conference, but I’d stayed at a much less expensive hotel a few blocks from the conference site.
“What are you doing?” I asked. “I made reservations for us at the Schooner Inn.”
“I know. I canceled them and booked us into a suite here. We’ll have privacy, but it’ll be easier to keep an eye on you if we’re in the same suite. I promised Hank I’d do that. They’re pet-friendly, and they owe me.”
“When you say, ‘they owe you,’ what does that mean?” As Neely replied, valets descended upon us.
“In my Hollywood days, I steered lots of business their way. Santa Barbara is a favorite getaway for Hollywood’s ‘talent,’ but the nice places there were often booked. I scouted out this place for an agent friend of mine, and that put them ‘on the map,’ so-to-speak.” She nonchalantly shrugged as I continued to stare at her. It had taken me a little while, but I’d begun to realize that Neely’s connections via her days as a Hollywood makeup artist were about as extensive as those Charly had established with law enforcement and Midge with the regional health care system.
“Thank goodness, I didn’t show up with my belongings in cardboard boxes and garbage bags.” As I said that, someone opened my door for me, and a woman in an expensive-looking blue sleeveless dress and spiky heels darted toward us.
“Neely, darling! How wonderful to see you!” Neely slid out from behind the wheel and hugged the woman. It was a real hug, not just an exchange of “air kisses.”
“It’s good to see you, too, Chelsea. This is my friend I told you about,” Neely said, waving her hand my way. “Miriam Webster, this is Chelsea Glen, one of the head honchos around here.”
“How nice to meet you,” Chelsea said as she swooped toward me. “That must be Domino! What a gorgeous Dalmatian.” Domino woofed in approval of the compliment. We were swept up in a whirlwind of motion as the woman issued directives to valets, bellhops, and even a “handler” for pets. I stopped as we entered the spectacular lobby. The ocean view was breathtaking, even though I admire the blue Pacific Ocean every day from my cottage porch.
If we’d had any hope of keeping a low profile, that was gone as everyone turned to gauge what was causing all the commotion. I heard oohs and ahs as they caught sight of Domino. She was stepping beside her handler like a dressage pony.
A member of hotel security joined our entourage. He escorted us directly to an elevator without stopping at one of the tables designated as a place to check in. In minutes, we were in our suite, which seemed as big as my cottage. That wasn’t true, of course, but the wall of windows made the accommodations appear to be even larger than they were.
Domino ran from one room to another. While Neely issued instructions to the baggage handlers, I followed Domino into my bedroom. She immediately found a doggie bed with toys in it. She probably wouldn’t sleep in the bed, but a squeaky toy was an instant hit. A valet set my suitcase on a luggage stand, put my overnight bag in the bathroom, and hung up my dress bag. After thanking and tipping him, there really wasn’t much for me to do, except try out the bed. Domino thought that was an invitation to do the same as she bounced and rolled on it a couple of times before taking off again.
“Domino is so wound up. Do you want to go with me to let her run off some energy on the beach?” Domino was lapping water from a silver bowl in the kitchen. Her tail whipped wildly at the mention of her name in the same breath as beach. “How do you like that? They’ve stocked her usual kibble, thank you very much!”
“No detail is overlooked, my dear. That’s one of the reasons the darlings of Hollywood come back again and again. It’s a great idea to let Domino wear herself out. Then we need to get cleaned up for dinner. I made reservations for us so we can get our investigation underway.”
“Don’t tell me—dinner for two at The Maiden Inn, right?”
“Yes. I hope we can recognize Nick Martinique, although we could just ask to speak to the night manager. Charly sent me an old photo from his case file. What a wreck he was in his mug shot. I find it hard to believe he’s still alive.”
“Oh, he is,” I asserted. “I went through every picture I could find in any post on the Internet about The Maiden Inn. I found him. See?”
“When did you have time to do that?” Neely asked as she scanned the group photo on my cellphone with the names of employees written underneath it.
“Last night when I couldn’t sleep. I downloaded others, but this one’s only a couple of years old.” She studied the photo of a thin, bespectacled man, with a shock of white hair.
“He looks better there than he did a couple of decades earlier. We’ll have no trouble identifying him. Bravo, Miriam!”
“Let’s go to the beach so we won’t be late for dinner,” I said. “I can’t wait to hear what Nick Martinique has to say about Wendy Ballard and Allen Rogow.”
“If we can get him to talk about it. I’ve been trying to come up with a strategy for approaching him. We could be direct, but since Wendy Ballard died from an overdose, that has to be a touchy subject even after all these years.”
I put Domino on her leash as I spoke and led her out into the hallway. We had the elevator all to ourselves when it arrived, and Neely who’d been deep in thought, finally weighed in on the matter as the elevator descended.
“We could use the old ‘mother-daughter’ routine,” Neely suggested. “You know—you’re in the area checking it out as a place to open a bake shop. Does someone at The Maiden Inn do their baking or do they have a shop they already use?”
“Something like that might get the conversation started in a non-threatening way. I’m not sure how we get to the point. ‘By the way, we’re wondering if your friend, Wendy Ballard, killed Allen Rogow before she overdosed.’ I can already see the back of his head as he retreats.”
“Well, maybe we could drop Judith Rogow’s name as a person who recommended we speak to him given his employment in the local service industry. Although, the mere mention of her name might be enough to send him running.”
As she said that, the elevator stopped, and Domino darted out the instant the doors opene
d pulling me after her. She was agile enough to avoid the gentleman standing there. I was not and bumped into him with my nose barely an inch away from his chest.
“I am so sorry,” I said, as I backed away from the clean-shaven man who smelled of a fresh, ocean-y fragrance. He smiled as I backed into the elevator door that was closing, and reached around me to catch it. It slid open again and he turned sideways, allowing me to escape while he held it open.
“Please don’t apologize. I was in too big a hurry and should have waited to make sure the elevator was empty. What a pleasant surprise to see such a lovely creature emerge so energetically.” A friendly smile went with that comment.
“Thank you. She can be a little too energetic, but Domino is a lovely girl.” He turned to smile at Domino, who was now sitting at Neely’s side like a perfect angel.
“Her, too!” He said as he turned back to me. “Allow me to introduce myself. I’m Ricardo Cantinela, and you are?” For an instant, I froze. Then, for some reason, I lied.
“I’m Miriam. Miriam Ingram,” I said. “That’s my mother Cornelia, but everyone calls her Neely.” I was going to use the names Neely had made up for us the last time we’d played mother and daughter, but I couldn’t quite remember what they were. What I did remember was how easily our scheme unraveled once we ran into someone who’d used our real first names.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you both. I must apologize again for being in such a rush. Perhaps, the next time we bump into each other, I won’t have to leave so quickly. Au revoir!” With that, he stepped into the elevator and hit a button. I heard the doors close as I led Domino out a side door that I hoped would take us to the beach.
“I would have expected ‘adios’ or ‘ciao’ from a man named Ricardo Cantinela. Quick thinking not to give out our last names without checking him out first. I’m sending Charly his name right now, along with a description. Those blue eyes were stunning in contrast to his black hair, weren’t they?” I nodded although I doubt Neely saw it. I was pondering the encounter and trying to understand why I’d lied so blithely.
Grave Expectations on Dickens' Dune Page 8
