Feline Fatale Page 8

  “You’re going to change it?” Darryl challenged. He took a swig of his soft drink as if he now regretted it didn’t have more punch.

  “I’m going to try.” My voice was soft, and I didn’t look beside me, toward Dante. “I can’t guarantee anything. You know that. But I’m definitely working on it.”

  “You are?” Dante’s voice was soft, too—but much more ominous than mine. “You haven’t discussed it with me, though you said you would.”

  I looked at him. “Oops. Sorry. But you knew I’d be busy with it, whether or not I kept you up-to-date. I haven’t learned enough to develop much of a plan so far, but when I do, and if I need backup from you or Brody or anyone else you suggested, like Jeff Hubbard, I promise I’ll ask.”

  I watched the warring emotions behind the expression on Dante’s face. He’d felt concerned enough to suggest Jeff in the first place, and I knew that couldn’t have been easy for him. But at the moment, Dante had no reason to worry about my possible interest in any other man.

  Our dinners were served just then. I’d ordered relatively lightly, a small taco salad. Even so, I hadn’t much appetite.

  Neither, it appeared, did anyone else. We all requested bolsos perros—my probably inaccurate translation of doggy bags—when we got ready to go.

  Dante, the sweet megamillionaire, treated us.

  Outside the door, we stopped, then got out of the way as another flood of hungry people slipped into the restaurant.

  I looked at Wanda, who stood beside Darryl. He had his arm around her. “We’ll figure this out,” I said. “Somehow. Please keep me in the loop if there are any other interrogations, or whatever. You can tell Esther I’m eager to help.” I looked at Darryl. “You know I’ll do all I can.”

  “Yes, I know, but if only she wasn’t—” He stopped talking, and I saw his gaze had fallen to Dante, beside me, who undoubtedly was glaring.

  “I wish she wasn’t involved, too, Darryl.” I wondered whether it would feel less hurtful if he came right out and blamed me—but didn’t really want to find out. I knew that his attitude wasn’t really rational, that it resulted from his fear and pain. Too bad he’d decided, consciously or not, to pass the pain around. I turned and walked to my car—glad that Dante was behind me.

  Chapter Ten

  HE STAYED BEHIND me, too. We’d driven separately, and he followed me home in his car—so I of course invited him to stay. Very polite of me … hah! My emotions were low, and I hoped he’d help pump them up with some mind-blowing sex. All night.

  Instead, after driving through the security gate and parking his high-end Mercedes behind my Escape, he walked me up the stairs to the door of my home-sweet-garage, his arm around my shoulders. Our kiss was hot—but it meant good night.

  “I’d love to come in,” he said, “but I’d better get home. I have a conference call early in the morning, one I’ll need to be wide awake for. I’d better not start the night with any distractions, since I might forget to leave.”

  I laughed and kissed him back, hearing Lexie sniffing at the door from inside.

  “You’ll be okay here?” he asked.

  I wondered what he’d do if I said no, but there wasn’t any reason to lie. “I’ll be fine. But … well, I’d be finer if you came in for a while.”

  “Tomorrow night I’m all yours. If you want me.”

  Good question. Did I want him?

  For tomorrow night? Of course. But my mind veered in a much wider direction, and I narrowed it back on course.

  “Sounds great. Can Wagner come, too?”

  “Count on it.”

  I used my key to open the door, then punched in the code to turn off the security system Jeff Hubbard had installed for me, as Lexie leaped around my legs. Dante stood there for a moment, obviously assuring himself that I was indeed okay, then said, “See you tomorrow, Kendra.” Another kiss—abbreviated yet explosively hot—and then he was gone.

  Tomorrow was Monday. I’d pet-sit in the morning and late in the day, as always. In between, I’d engage in my law practice. And the entire time, I’d be anticipating my evening—with Dante.

  Now, though, I’d spend the end of this day alone with Lexie. Once Dante was gone, his car outside and the gate closed behind him, I turned on the yard lights and Lexie and I bounded down the steps for her last constitutional of the night. I saw the outdoor lights go on at the main house, and soon Beggar joined Lexie on the lawn, frolicking with obvious enjoyment.

  Russ and Rachel came out the front door, and I headed up the walkway to join them. I felt my shoulders brace in anticipation of whatever they had to say. Had they already located a house to buy?

  Fortunately—for me—they hadn’t. “How are you, Kendra?” Russ asked, looking somewhat anxiously into my face. He apparently had headed out of the house in a hurry, since his cotton shirt was unbuttoned. At least it was long-sleeved, since the January air was chilly, and he did wear a white T-shirt beneath. I sensed he was worried about me. Did he expect me to have a meltdown because he and his daughter were leaving someday?

  “I’m fine,” I said. “Any success in finding a new home?”

  “Not yet. But … well, we love this neighborhood.” He looked down into his daughter’s eyes. My waiflike petsitting assistant smiled up at him encouragingly. “We’ve been looking in this area, but I think you have the nicest house around.”

  Uh-oh. Was this leading up to his wanting to make an offer to buy me out? That would solve my issues about not being able to afford the place without a tenant. But I wouldn’t consider giving it up. Unless I absolutely had to. I still loved this property, even if the bank maintained a major financial interest in it.

  “The thing is, Kendra,” Rachel finally said, turning to me, “we don’t want to leave you in the lurch. If you want us to buy you out of this place, we’ll try to do it. But—”

  I hurried over to hug her, then Russ. “Please don’t worry about me,” I said. “I had tenants before you got here, and I’ll find someone else, if necessary, when you leave. But it’s really sweet of you to think about it.”

  Russ looked relieved. “I was serious about loving this area. We’re holding out till we find a house around here that we like enough to buy—one where we’ll still remain neighbors.”

  “Perfect,” I said. Then, since Lexie and Beggar had ended their romp and now sat at our feet, I said good night.

  When I got back inside, I realized I was too jazzed to think about going to bed. It wasn’t really very late—only nine o’clock. I decided to follow up on the issue that had been manipulating my mind that day. That way, I wouldn’t have to think too hard—now—about looking around for new tenants soon.

  Nor about how much I appreciated the way I’d gotten close to my current ones. And how I’d miss having them this close, even if they wound up staying nearby.

  I went into the living room and sat on the sectional sofa, turning on the TV to one of the shows where civilians are hired by cops to psych out crooks—pretending to be particularly perceptive or even clairvoyant. I kept it on mute as I pressed a familiar number into my cell phone.

  “Kendra,” said Esther Ickes’s raspy little-old-lady voice into my ear, “I was hoping to hear from you.”

  “You can always call me. How are things?”

  “Meaning Wanda Villareal’s defense?”

  “Well, that, too. You know I’m always interested in how you’re doing, what you’re up to besides defending my friends in murder cases.”

  She laughed. “You keep me pretty busy, Kendra.”

  “Unfortunately.”

  “It’s fortunate for me, though,” Esther said, as I started absently patting Lexie, who lay on my lap. “Especially since you always figure out who really committed the crimes my clients are accused of—and it isn’t them.”

  “This time, too. I mean, Wanda’s innocent … isn’t she?”

  “I certainly think so. I consider the case against her to be really weak. She had a difference of opin
ion with the victim, one they both were public about, but that doesn’t mean Wanda would kill over it. She’s a smart enough lady to back off, even move to another condominium complex where she could pet-sit, without resorting to murder.”

  “Exactly,” I said.

  “The only evidence they seem to have against her is that the cat she found there—Lady Cuddles, I think—had blood on her paws, and some of it was Wanda’s. Of course the cat did scratch her a little when she initially tried to take it from the apartment, but then she decided to leave it there.”

  That answered one question I’d had. The cops had, indeed, tested the DNA found on the little cat’s paws. Amazing, considering the huge backlog in the official DNA testing system, that they’d already gotten results. Or maybe they were still simply guessing.

  “That doesn’t make her a killer,” I stated. “Just so you know, I’m starting to look into other potential suspects, and—”

  “I was sure you would, dear. Thanks. And feel free to run any ideas by me.”

  “Well, I did go see Margaret’s ex-husband, Paulino Shiler, today. He’s on my list, but I didn’t find him a particularly good suspect. And I’ve been told about someone else Margaret was arguing with—a contractor who did remodeling in some of the condos. His name is Rutley Harris, and I figured I’d track him down tomorrow or the next day.”

  “Yes, Wanda mentioned him as a possibility. One other place you could look, if you’re so inclined, is at a couple of the other members of the condo association’s board of directors. And they could lead you to some of the other people siding with Margaret on the pet issue—and those against her. Although I still find that too insubstantial a motive for murder.”

  “People kill for all kinds of dumb reasons,” I reminded Esther—unnecessarily, since defending people in criminal matters was the major part of her practice. “And murder because of a threat to a family member isn’t necessarily an insubstantial motive. Pets are relatives people choose, after all.”

  “You’re right, dear. I can really identify with that now. Did I tell you that I’ve adopted a kitten? Her name is Sacha, and I had to laugh when Wanda started telling me about Lady Cuddles and her escapades around the condo complex—besides hanging around the murder site. My little Sacha isn’t quite that elusive, but I do find her in the oddest places in my home, like in cabinets beside my sink and in shoeboxes in my closet. She’s gray with light stripes rather like a tiger’s.”

  “She sounds wonderful,” I said warmly. “You’ll have to introduce me to her one of these days.”

  “Gladly.”

  “And I’ll follow up on those ideas of yours to help clear Wanda.”

  “I’m sure that you already thought of finding other people at the condominium complex to interview, Kendra. There’s nothing especially unique in that.”

  “I appreciate all suggestions. Let me know if you think of anything else.”

  When we had said our good-byes and hung up, I made a quick call to James Jerome. “I’d love to get together with you again soon,” I told him. “I’ve been following up on the people you suggested, but maybe you could point out more people who were Margaret’s friends and enemies around the complex. Wanda’s solidly in the cops’ radar right now, and I’d love to get her out, if possible.”

  “There’s an emergency board meeting on Tuesday evening,” he told me, “and all residents are invited to attend. I can get you in as a guest. It would be a great way to introduce you to more people on both sides.”

  “I’ll be there!”

  Chapter Eleven

  I COULD HAVE spent all of Monday drooling in anticipation of the delightful evening to come … with Dante.

  But first I had petsitting to do. And all of my charges took priority over my own emotional—and physical—expectations.

  I brought Lexie along with me first thing, and we visited all of my standard morning animals—Abra and Cadabra, the cats; Stromboli, Beauty, and some other adorable dogs; and, of course, Py the python. Where appropriate, Lexie came inside with me to assist in pet care and play.

  Then we headed toward Doggy Indulgence. As always, I wanted to indulge my Lexie while I did my legal work.

  Plus, I wanted to see Darryl. If possible, face him alone in his office. See how he was doing.

  Determine whether I could further mend our fragile relationship.

  As we went inside, Lexie immediately dashed off to play with some of her Indulgence pup pals. Kiki was the one to sign her in. She glared at me, but didn’t say anything especially nasty.

  Maybe she was waiting for her boss to do that, since Darryl came over to me after ending a conversation with another pet owner.

  “Could we talk for a minute in your office?” I asked.

  He seemed somewhat reluctant, but he shrugged his narrow shoulders beneath his orange—today—Doggy Indulgence knit shirt and said, “Sure.”

  Inside, with the door shut, I took one of the seats facing his messy desk. His window on his world, the day care facility, was behind him, and the mostly soundproof glass kept out the noise.

  It was just him and me.

  “Darryl,” I began, “I—”

  He started speaking at the same time. “I’ve been acting like an ass, Kendra.” His head drooped before he raised it again to look at me sadly through his wire-rimmed glasses. “I apologize. I know you can’t help being a murder magnet, and you certainly didn’t wish this on Wanda—or me, for that matter.”

  “So what’s the ‘but’?” I urged him on. Foolishly? Maybe. But since we’d started to try to clear the unhealthy air between us, I figured we’d better try to finish it, too.

  “But … I’ve been blaming you in my mind because I’m just so frustrated. Have you ever loved someone so much that you’d do anything to protect them?” His tone was anguished. So was his look.

  Even worse were his words. I’d had relationships before, and every one of them had ended badly.

  Now, I was involved with a man who had it all—wealth, power, sexiness, and, yes, sweetness. Would I do anything to shelter Dante?

  I knew he would for me. He’d even tried to force protection on me the last time I’d looked into a murder, but at least then he’d known some nasty secrets about the guy who was killed, plus his enemies—and Dante himself was the major murder suspect. Now he was doing it again as I leaped into attempting to fix things for Wanda. Sweet, sure, but also a bit too controlling.

  Or caring. He’d once lost a woman he’d loved in a car accident. He mentioned it the first few times without follow-up, but I’d eventually managed to extract some additional details. It happened just after he’d opened his first HotPets stores. She was a rep for a major pet food manufacturer. He’d fallen for her—hard. Her death occurred on a slick freeway during an early-season Los Angeles rain. An accident, and that was that. End of story—and he didn’t really want to talk about it.

  I suspected he was being so overprotective of me now because his wound reminded him of his loss, and life’s fragility. Never mind that he’d formerly enjoyed a potentially toxic government job. That was then, and this was now.

  As sweet as his caring was, I’d remind him—often—that I could take care of myself. Would I do anything to protect him, like Darryl asked? I’d certainly managed to blame myself a bit after Dante got stabbed …

  “How much I’ve cared for anyone isn’t the point, Darryl. You obviously feel that way about Wanda, and that’s a wonderful thing. She’s my friend, too. And I’ll do everything in my power to help her out of this mess—even though I didn’t really get her into it. You know that, don’t you?”

  He was staring at me. For a horrible instant, I thought he might contradict me and claim I’d not only chosen to be a murder magnet, but I’d also wished suspect status on many of my friends, including Wanda. Instead, he nodded. “I do know that, Kendra. I’m sorry for even considering otherwise. Can we still be friends?”

  In a second, I was on his side of his desk, hugging the
long, lanky, lovable guy. “Friends,” I said soggily in agreement. I backed away. “Now I’m on my way to my law office. I plan to follow up on at least one suspect from there. And tomorrow night, I’ll go to the special condo association meeting to see what I can learn there. And—”

  Darryl held up his hands and laughed. “Whoa, Kendra. I know you’ve been successful in solving all those murders, but—”

  “But it really matters this time, Darryl. Not that it hadn’t with the others—especially when I was accused.” And when Dante was accused. But enumerating suspects here seemed inappropriate. “You know I can’t make any promises about clearing Wanda, but I’m sure as hell going to try.”

  “Thanks, Kendra,” he said softly as I headed for the office door. “Either way, I’ll owe you.”

  “All I want from you, Darryl, is your friendship.”

  “Count on it,” he said.

  But I couldn’t help wondering what would happen if helping Wanda was my first failure.

  “HI, KENDRA,” EFFERVESCED Mignon, the bubbly receptionist at my law firm. Her auburn curls bobbed as she spoke while seated at a small desk in the area that had once been the hosting area of a restaurant. “You had a few calls this morning. The callers all asked to be sent to your voice mail.”

  “Thanks.” We conversed for a few lively minutes about her weekend, and I sipped on a cup of coffee I’d picked up along my way. Mignon had just started dating a new guy, and was really jazzed.

  “And how about you?” she piped after extolling the exciting virtues—or sinfulness—of her new guy. “Are you still seeing Dante DeFrancisco?”

  Word got around everywhere—especially places where I spent lots of valuable time. Like here.

  “Yeah, Kendra,” said Elaine Aames, a senior-aged attorney who’d just walked into the reception area with Gigi, a Blue and Gold Macaw, perched on her shoulder. “How’s Dante?”

  I noticed the silver-haired founder of our law firm, Yurick & Associates, standing behind her in what had once been an aisle between booths in this former restaurant building. “What about you, Borden?” I said somewhat ruefully. “Are you going to ask about Dante, too?”