Feline Fatale Read online

  And, hallelujah! Lady Cuddles didn’t exercise her amazing escape abilities.

  When I was finished, I went home to pick up Lexie. My next stop was at Doggy Indulgence to hand keys back to Wanda. Plus, I’d leave Lexie. I figured half a day there was better than none—especially now that Darryl would be back. I’d worry less about Kiki’s odd behavior of apparently hiding Lexie from me.

  As soon as I entered Doggy Indulgence, Wanda exited Darryl’s office and thanked me. She was a petite person who favored flowing, gauzy tops, even when the weather grew chillier. Today’s was soft blue.

  “I take it you haven’t been home yet,” I said to her as Darryl joined us by the big front desk. Lexie was already cavorting with some of her canine friends, including her Cavalier friend, Basil.

  “No, but I’ve gotten even more of an earful from James. We’re in the middle of a war, I’m afraid. And as always, the ones who could suffer most are the innocents—the animals this time, if the pet lovers don’t unite and fight off this stupidity.” As sweet as Wanda had always struck me, her expression had turned utterly angry and unyielding.

  “You could always just sell your condo,” Darryl said softly. “Not put yourself through all this.” My lanky, long-term friend was regarding his significant other with obvious concern.

  When Wanda aimed her gaze up into his, I could see the love radiating there, and I figured she had a standing invitation to move into Darryl’s Studio City house not far from here. Sweet. Yet I felt another reaction, too. Envy?

  No, more like fear. I could be in a similar situation with Dante, if I wanted to go to the next level. Maybe. Maybe not.

  In any event, I left them looking at each other. I left Lexie playing with Basil.

  I also left Kiki, who’d finally appeared, glowering at all of us until I caught her gaze. Then, she turned her expression into absolute innocence.

  I simply nodded a greeting—and a warning—to her, and departed.

  THE NEXT FEW days were relatively painless. I did my regular petsitting rounds mornings and evenings, with my assistant Rachel’s help.

  She acknowledged that she and her father were looking for a new place, and reassured me that it wouldn’t change anything between us.

  Except that she wouldn’t be as easily accessible for meetings mornings and evenings, when I was at home. But we would work something out.

  I hoped.

  My days passed smoothly at my law firm, Yurick & Associates.

  I talked to Dante at least once a day. Sometimes more.

  I missed him.

  Finally, it was Thursday evening. I thought about calling Wanda to send along my moral support, but decided I’d wait to hear from her about the condo board meeting.

  Which I did, at about ten o’clock. “It was awful, Kendra,” she exclaimed as I sat on my living room sofa with my phone to my ear. “The pet lovers outnumber the haters, but the people who want to change the rules are a terrible bunch. Loud. Angry. They were especially upset that we dared to take down their awful posters of pet feces. I’m so afraid of what might happen to our ability to keep pets, especially if we get a board vacancy any time soon. That bitch Ruth Bertinetti has made it clear she’s running for the next seat. Whenever that is, I’ll need to find someone on our side to oppose her. And—” Her sudden stop was so dramatic that I waited eagerly to hear the rest. “We want to hire your legal services, Kendra. Those of us who intend to keep the pet policy as it is. I’ll talk over the particulars with you, if you’re interested.”

  “Sure,” I said. “Of course I can’t guarantee results.” Nor could I guarantee to myself that I’d enjoy this new matter much. Not with emotions running so high. But at least I’d be representing the right side.

  I had a court appearance on an elder-law situation the next day, a Friday, so I couldn’t get together with Wanda and her compatriots then. We decided to hold the first law conference with pro-pet people as an unofficial gathering in her condo on Sunday, and set up a time.

  “Give Basil a big hug for me,” I said as we got ready to hang up. “And Darryl, too, of course. By the way, are Lady Cuddles’s owners back in town yet?”

  “Not for another week.”

  “Then … have you had better luck keeping her at home than I had?”

  “So far. Keep your fingers crossed for me.”

  As it turned out, I’m not sure that having all of my fingers crossed on Wanda’s behalf would have worked to prevent what happened.

  That Friday night, I was happily preparing to go to the airport to pick up Dante—yes, he could have had a chauffeur or other employee do it, but I’d wanted to see him first thing—when …

  I got a call from Wanda.

  “Kendra!” she wailed as I answered.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “It’s so awful … Lady Cuddles wasn’t in her apartment when I got there, so I started looking around for her. I knocked on the nearest doors, and the one to Margaret Shiler’s unit opened when I touched it. I thought I heard a mew, so I went in and … Oh, Kendra, I found Lady Cuddles, but Margaret was at home, too. On the floor. And she’s dead!”

  Chapter Five

  OKAY, IT COULD have been a heart attack. Something simple. Natural.

  But, murder magnet that I am, I felt certain it was something a lot more insidious.

  “What happened to her?” I asked Wanda, leaning on my living room wall while Lexie observed me intently, her sweet head cocked so one long ear neared the carpeted floor.

  “I’m not sure, but she’s all bloody.” Wanda’s voice shook. “I called 911 and Darryl before phoning you.”

  “Good call. Do you—” I hesitated to ask. “Would you like me to come there to be with you?” Before she could answer, I interjected, “Problem is, though, that I’m on my way to pick up Dante at the airport.” I wasn’t about to abandon him there, or even arrange an alternate form of transportation. I’d promised to be there for him, and that was what I’d do.

  Afterward, though … Well, my preference would have been spending the whole night with Dante. But if I could somehow help a friend with my presence …

  “Oh, yes, Kendra, please come here. I don’t know what’s going to happen when the police arrive, but you have lots of experience with such things.”

  I definitely did, much to my dismay. “Tell you what,” I said. “I’ll call you after I get Dante, and you can let me know for sure if it makes sense for me to come.”

  DANTE’S FLIGHT WAS right on time. Of course it would be. No one would dare to delay Dante DeFrancisco—even when he flew in a commercial airliner instead of his private jet. First class, naturally.

  In any event, I waited at a fast food restaurant for his call. I’d left Lexie at home, alone. One way or another, I’d wind up back at my digs that night. Preferably with Dante. His assistant would still be caring for Wagner, so one more night away from home should be okay. I hoped.

  When my cell phone rang, I immediately answered it. “I’ve landed,” he said. “Can’t wait to see you. I checked a bag, so I’ll call you again once I have it in hand.”

  Ten minutes later, I heard from him. Five minutes after that, I drove my Escape up to the area outside baggage claim for the airline Dante had taken, and pulled over when I saw him standing there.

  I parked fast, pushed the button to open the rear compartment so he could throw his luggage in, then darted from the car. In moments, I was in his arms. Damn, but his embrace felt welcome! It was as if we’d been separated for months instead of a week.

  I really had it bad for this guy.

  “I missed you, Kendra.” He gave me one heck of a passionate kiss. I returned it and raised him one. Although he’d been stabbed several months ago because of a murder situation we’d been involved in, he’d healed well and always encouraged me to hug him hard.

  But standing there necking all night wasn’t advisable, especially since the airport police would want me to move on.

  “Hold that thought,” I sa
id, and he smiled before heading for the Escape’s passenger seat.

  It was all I could do to drive instead of staring at this gorgeous example of maleness. Dante’s hair was dark and wavy, and his smile drew sexual shudders from me all over. And the way his dark eyes smoldered … well, I knew he, too, hoped we’d spend the night together.

  Only …

  “You won’t believe what happened tonight.”

  “Another murder?” he responded immediately, and not exactly with enthusiasm.

  “How did you guess?”

  “Your voice takes on a certain excited tone when you get involved in something like that.”

  “I’m not involved, but—”

  “Then why did you bring it up?” Uncharacteristically, he sounded a tad irritated. Was it because his own imagined night of passion had fizzled into a puff of murderous smoke? I certainly hoped that night had only been delayed.

  Or maybe his painful memories of the last murder had stabbed at the surface of his mind.

  In any event, I briefly explained the gist of Wanda’s call to me. Then I filled him in on my less-than-pleasant experiences with the victim, Margaret Shiler.

  “I told Wanda I’d call her after I picked you up, so she could tell me what was going on, and if she wanted me to come there. If so, I’ll be glad to drop you off at your place first”—although it would be way out of the way, and time-consuming—“but I’d love your company and insight.” And presence. And the possibility of still having a few glorious hours of making up for lost travel time. If we were still on speaking terms, of course.

  “Go ahead and call her, then we’ll see.”

  I reached Wanda immediately. “It’s awful here, Kendra,” she said softly. “Darryl’s come and he’s really great, but some of the other residents, especially those nasty Bertinettis, have told the detectives about how I was arguing with Margaret. And since I was the one to find her … Oh, by the way, I kept Lady Cuddles in Margaret’s unit rather than taking her home, since I didn’t want to move anything pending the murder investigation. That was right, wasn’t it?”

  I assured her that it was. “How did she get there?”

  “I’ve no idea how she escaped her apartment this time, but I assume she got into Margaret’s because the door was ajar.”

  “Have you been interviewed by any detectives?” I asked her.

  “Detective Candace Melamed of the Burbank Police Department talked to me. She acted so … well, accusatory. As if I had something to do with Margaret’s death.”

  I’d had sufficient run-ins with police detectives to empathize a lot with Wanda.

  “So … Well, I’ve picked up Dante. Do—”

  “Then you’re free to come here now? Please, Kendra. It would make me feel so much better.”

  I aimed an inquisitive glance toward Dante. His sensuous lips were now curled up into a sardonic smile. “Go to it, babe,” he said, shaking his head wryly. “I’ll come along for extra moral support. Or immoral, as the case may be.”

  BRIGADOON WAS IN an absolute uproar.

  “You sure they’ll even let you in?” Dante asked as we waited outside the security gate after calling Wanda to let her know of our arrival.

  “No, but—There.” The gate opened before us, and I drove in. I parked near the entrance in the first space I found, since most other areas were filled with cop cars with flashing lights. Then there were the media vans with their satellite dishes on top. Was my longtime media contact and sometimes friend Corina Carey among them? I had no idea.

  I also had no ID that would easily get me to Wanda’s. I’d occasionally acted as an apprentice private investigator when looking into murders in which my friends were involved—or in which I was—but that had worked out best when I was dating a P.I. My old flame Jeff Hubbard and I had reached a parting of romantic ways a while back, after he had thought me capable of some pretty ugly stuff during an investigation that concerned him. We were still friends, but I wasn’t exactly his apprentice—or anything else—anymore.

  Without something more than my wish to visit a friend, I suspected it wouldn’t be easy to get through this throng of cops and condo residents, but I gamely called Wanda nonetheless.

  “Oh, you can come up, Kendra,” she informed me. “I told everybody that my lawyer was on the way.”

  “But—” I began.

  “I didn’t say you were representing me in this case,” she said hurriedly. “I know you’re not a criminal lawyer. And I’m hoping I don’t need a criminal lawyer. But—”

  Lots of buts were being belted out around here. “I’ll try playing the lawyer card and seeing how far it gets me,” I told her. “And Dante. He’s now my assistant.” I looked up at his handsome face, and he had the grace to wink at me. I grinned.

  After explaining several times who we were, we managed to get to Wanda’s unit. It had the same configuration as several I’d visited while caring for pets last weekend, but Wanda had made it her own with gauzy draperies at the windows that resembled the tops she favored, in colors that coordinated with the sofa and chairs.

  I immediately bent down and hugged Basil. The poor Cavalier was clearly confused by all the people and noise. At least Wanda’s place was on a different floor from Margaret’s unit—the second. Same building, though.

  Darryl was there, too. My long, lanky friend had a thunderous expression on his face. He was usually so mild-mannered that it would have startled me if I didn’t know the reason behind it.

  He loved Wanda. Wanda was involved in a murder case because she had discovered the body. Plus, she’d been in a pet-related verbal altercation with the victim.

  Ergo, she could be in trouble. And Darryl didn’t want to see her there.

  “Please get her out of this, Kendra,” Darryl said to me first thing. “Fast.”

  “I can’t make any promises,” I said. “You know that. But I’ll give her any help I can.”

  “Good. Thanks.” His tone had gone from sharp to bleak.

  I opened my mouth to ask what he was thinking when a loud knock sounded on the apartment door. Wanda looked through the peephole, then pulled the door open.

  “Hi,” she said sorrowfully to the throng of people who stood there. “Come on in.” There were probably too many, but a few obeyed her request. “These are some of our residents,” she explained to me, and started rattling off names I wouldn’t remember.

  But before she got very far, Ruth Bertinetti burst through the crowd to face Wanda. “I know you had a bone to pick with Margaret about her wanting to fix the antiquated pet policy here,” she said. “But you didn’t need to kill her, you bitch!”

  Chapter Six

  I HEARD BASIL barking his contradiction from behind a closed door. For an instant, his voice was the only sound in the room.

  Then Dante said, in a tone dripping ice, “Time for you to leave, lady.”

  Ruth shot him a look that started out scornful, then turned uneasy as she noticed the fury on his face. And an angry-looking Dante is a scary thing, even when he is dressed casually and not in a situation where he is clearly in charge.

  I knew that. I had, on occasion, been on the receiving end.

  “I didn’t kill her,” Wanda wailed. Darryl put his arm protectively around her, and she seemed to recoup her resilience. “You have a hell of a lot of nerve accusing me, Ruth, just because we’re on opposite sides of an important issue around here.”

  “Well, poor Margaret argued directly with you about it.” Ruth Bertinetti was a tall woman, and she seemed to attempt to gain height with her anger, standing straighter with her hands on her hips.

  “If I kill people that I argue with,” Wanda said coldly, “then I’d suggest you watch your back.”

  Ruth appeared shocked by that rejoinder. So was I, in fact. Wanda had always seemed like a fairly reasonable person.

  But emotions can make people say strange things. I felt certain that no matter what ill feelings there’d been between Wanda and Margaret, my p
etsitting pal wouldn’t have killed Margaret.

  Even so, some of the residents who’d come into the unit murmured to one another uneasily. A few sidled toward the exit. Some shot irritated looks in the direction of Basil’s unyielding barks in support of his owner.

  Wanda apparently realized the impression she might have made. Her face was as green as the pale, flowing top she wore, a shade lighter than Darryl’s Doggy Indulgence shirt, as she attempted to improve it with a smile. “You know I’m just joking,” she said to no one in particular.

  “Of course you are,” Darryl stated staunchly. “And you’ve every reason to get angry about such unfounded accusations. Right, Kendra?”

  His gaze bored into me over his wire-rims, as if he was attempting to control my response. I didn’t quite see my easygoing best bud in that look, but I of course understood why he was so upset.

  The woman he loved had been accused of murder.

  And even could have done it … although I didn’t think she had. Dante, too, acknowledged how upset Darryl obviously was. He stood beside me and stared back at Darryl with a look not yet menacing but that suggested it could get threatening if my friend didn’t back off a bit.

  The crowd nearing the door stopped suddenly, the stream of people parting. I saw why in a second. A couple of uniformed Burbank cops were swimming upstream into their midst.

  When they got inside, the older, chubbier one demanded, “What are you doing here, everyone? You were told to stay in your own apartments until our investigation here is through. Have you all been interviewed?”

  From the responses, it sounded as if most hadn’t been.

  “We were all friends of Margaret’s, Officer,” Ruth Bertinetti said softly, as if in explanation. “We thought it appropriate to show some unity on her behalf.”

  If these folks were all friends of Margaret’s, and therefore against the possibility that pets’ rights would be maintained at Brigadoon, then Wanda’s ability to keep Basil here and maintain her petsitting operation were definitely in danger.

  But that still didn’t mean she’d have cut down the most vocal opponent of pets in desperation. Did it?