Feline Fatale (15 page)

“You’ll need to tell us, Kendra,” said Julie, “if we can hire you as the condo association board or if we have to do it as individuals. We do constitute the entire board at the moment, but we have a vacancy. We know there’ll be a fight when we hold the election to fill it—those who supported Margaret’s position on pets, and the rest of our residents, including us.”

“Depends on what you want my advice on.” I leaned earnestly on the table. “If, as a board, you have questions on how the association’s governing documents should be enforced, or how they can be amended if someone initiates a change, then I would represent the board. But then you couldn’t include Wanda or the others here who aren’t currently on the board, or you would risk waiving attorney-client privilege. If you all, instead, want a legal opinion about how to deal individually with a fight over pets, then it wouldn’t be the board who’d hire me. The distinction’s a bit obscure, so I’ll want to consider the question further. In either event, if you hire me, I’ll want to review the association’s articles of incorporation, bylaws, and rules and regulations before I can give you definitive advice.”

“Which would you suggest, Kendra?” James asked anxiously.

“It may be a matter of waiting to see what happens,” I said. “When will you hold an election to fill the vacant seat?”

“Our bylaws say a special election should be held within sixty days after a vacancy occurs,” Julie responded.

“Then at the moment, the current board, as constituted, remains in charge. You can keep things going as they are now. Pets will continue to be allowed to live there, assuming your governing documents permit it—which I’ve gathered, even before reading them, they do. Your current rules about how owners are to ensure their pets don’t constitute a nuisance will stay in effect, and you should be sure to follow them as exactly as possible in the meantime. I’d imagine you’ll have one heck of a contentious campaign to fill that seat, but keep things as calm and uncontroversial as possible. And if the candidate you choose to run is someone who’s pro-pets, and that person wins, you’ll just have to see what the other side does.”

“They won’t stop fighting,” Wanda surmised.

“No way,” James agreed.

“We’ll know better how to counter them when we see what they do,” I said. “And . . . well, it’ll be a whole different ball game if their candidate wins. But you’ll still be in the majority. I’d imagine your meetings won’t be fun at all, though.”

“That’s an understatement,” Darryl muttered, his first comment since our meeting began.

I exchanged sympathetic glances with him. “In the meantime,” I went on, “I can look at your governing documents. You can act as a board to hire my firm to review them. I wouldn’t suggest taking any steps to strengthen them in your favor right now, or you’ll be courting a lawsuit.”

“Darn!” James exclaimed. “I’d thought about doing that.”

“Which is why I warned you. Anyway, let me know who should be my main contact—James, or Julie, or someone else on the board—for now.”

“James is fine,” said Julie, and everyone in the room appeared to agree.

“Then James, please get me a set of the governing documents. I can either read them now, assuming there’ll be a problem, or wait to see what happens and save you the expense of my legal fees if things don’t go as badly as you think.”

“Read them,” Julie said.

“Definitely,” James agreed.

The meeting adjourned soon afterward. Wanda and Darryl lingered after the rest had left.

“What do you think, Kendra?” Wanda asked anxiously.

“Looks as if you’ve got some stalwart folks on your side who really want to ensure that Brigadoon’s pet policies don’t change,” I said.

“Right,” she agreed. “But I’m nervous about that special election thing. I’m pretty sure Ruth Bertinetti will run for Margaret’s seat, and you already know what she’s like.”

I shuddered in sympathy. “What about you?” I asked her, as Darryl closed his eyes in apparent agony. He knew what I meant. “Are you going to run for the empty seat?”

“I’m thinking about it,” Wanda said slowly. She, too, glanced at Darryl, obviously knowing his dubiousness over the possibility.

“You’d make a great Brigadoon board member,” I told her. “But, as you know from your work with our pet-sitters’ club, that kind of thing’s a lot of effort. And you’d be right in the middle of the pet dispute.”

“I already am,” she said dryly. “And . . . well, I’m afraid I’m still under suspicion about Margaret’s death. I don’t know that I should take on anything like a campaign like this till it’s resolved.”

I didn’t disagree. But I also wondered if suspicion was being cast on Wanda to keep her preoccupied and not wholly centered on the pet issue. If so, was the actual killer involved, or one or more of the anti-pet folks?

“You may be right,” I said. “By the way, how’s Lady Cuddles today? Home in her apartment, as she should be?”

Wanda’s gaze suddenly grew anxious. “She was before. And I certainly hope she still is.”

“Me, too.”

They left soon afterward. I was worried about Wanda, and Darryl, too. And their relatively new relationship. They were both clearly upset by this whole situation. And its outcome was absolutely unclear.

So was Wanda’s position as a possible murder suspect.

Well, I hoped to help out with both.

Before I left the office to start my pet-sitting, I called Brody Avilla.

“I’ll have at least an initial report for you tomorrow, Kendra. I promise.”

“That’s great,” I said. After the meeting today, I’d hoped to have some other possible suspects for him to look into—pro-pet people who might have hated Margaret.

But of those who’d come to my office, most had stayed fairly quiet.

That meant my original suspects, those on the board, had the best likelihood of wanting to do away with their pet-hating counterpart. Them, Margaret’s ex-husband, Paulino Shiler, and that contractor Rutley Harris.

I hoped that the info Brody gave me on them tomorrow would tell me exactly who the killer could be.

NO DANTE THAT night at my place. Nor did I go to his. He had another early morning meeting to mull over, and I had pet-sitting duties first thing.

We talked, at least. He expressed concern over what I was up to. He said he’d talked to Brody, too. No surprise. But he’d spoken with his longtime friend after I had, and he assured me that Brody would report some interesting information to me . . . tomorrow.

So, Lexie and I headed for bed.

And, yeah, I thought about Dante. Probably even dreamed of him, though my conscious mind wouldn’t admit it when I woke.

The next day, I took Lexie again to Doggy Indulgence—partly to check on Darryl. She accompanied me on part of my pet-sitting route first, though. Getting to Doggy Indulgence too early could mean I’d miss seeing my old friend again.

He was, indeed, there when Lexie and I strolled in just before I prepared to head for my office. He stood near the front desk, engaged in conversation with Kiki.

I hated to interrupt them—mostly because I didn’t want another confrontation, or even a dirty look, from the bleached-blond actress wannabe who was so good with animals but so awful with people. I admit I was getting even cattier where she was concerned, and she seemed to get nastier the longer I knew her.

Even so, as Lexie lunged toward the main room’s zone where other dogs were already engaged in supervised feigned fights over toys, I approached. And heard, even though their voices were muted, that Kiki and Darryl were arguing.

“But you know I can do it,” she said. “You used to be so receptive to my ideas. Before . . .”

Her voice trailed off, and I could only imagine the ending of what she’d begun. Before what? Before the first of the year?

Before he’d become involved with Wanda?

That could imply Kiki had some kind of crush on Darryl. I hadn’t seen it
before
, but maybe it arose only after he became unattainable.

I decided to rescue him, though I was certain my long, lanky friend could take care of himself.

“Good morning,” I said brightly.

The look Darryl leveled on me didn’t seem especially relieved. In fact, he looked a little annoyed. “Hi, Kendra. Excuse us for a minute, will you?” I thought he was talking to Kiki at first, but then I realized he was still looking at me.

Not only didn’t he want me to save him from a difficult conversation, but he wanted me to butt out.

I attempted not to allow my feelings to be hurt. And my curiosity not to be stoked—too much. “No problem. I just wanted to say hi. Lexie’s here for the day, so I’ll see you later.” I started to leave. Slowly.

Even as I heard the conversation again heat up behind me. I thought I heard Darryl utter the words, “Like I was saying, things are different now.”

Kiki’s response: “After all I’ve done for you . . . well, things are about to change, unless—”

But my shuffling had already gotten me too near the door to hear more. I turned and took one more look toward where Lexie played. I darted a stealthy glance toward Darryl and Kiki, and saw them staring each other down.

Then I was gone.

 

I HAD A court day coming up soon in an elder-law case, so I started to prepare for it after reaching my office. I’d checked with Mignon when I came in. She’d fielded no calls for me.

Nor did my phone ring as I sat there occasionally staring at it, willing Brody to finally finish his research and let me know what he’d found.

“Hey, Kendra,” my dear friend and boss Borden Yurick eventually said from my doorway. His usual colorful aloha shirt that day had a blue background. “I haven’t seen you all day. Just wanted to be sure you’re here and okay.”

“Yes and yes,” I said with a smile. “And you?”

“Yes, and hungry. Up for lunch again today?”

“Why not?” But as I grabbed my purse from a drawer and stood to leave, my phone rang. “Mind waiting for a second while I see who this is?” If it was Brody, I’d have to beg off lunch.

As it turned out, I still missed lunch, even though it wasn’t the guy researching possible suspects for me.

“Kendra, this is Julie Tradeau, from the Brigadoon board. I’m . . . well, I’d really like to talk to you about this pet situation. And Margaret. Plus, I want to show you something. Can you come to my place this afternoon?”

 

MY CURIOSITY SWIRLING, I arrived at Brigadoon less than an hour later. I had walked with Borden to a nearby sandwich place, but got mine to go. That way, I at least had a little time to spend with my sweet, grand-fatherly mentor.

I ate in the car, so when I arrived at the condos, I was full of food—and interest in what had gotten Julie to call me.

Plus, I was worried about the ethics of this meeting. And of my acting as attorney to the association while I investigated some of its members as possible killers. I’d therefore come up with an alternate idea for its legal representation.

I buzzed the button at the outside gate, and Julie let me through to the parking lot. I made a quick call on my cell phone, reached my friend and fellow attorney Avvie Milton, and got her go-ahead to recommend her as an attorney for the Brigadoon board. She had been my fellow lawyer at the firm of Marden, Sergement and Yurick a few years ago, and had recently left to join a boutique firm in the Valley. We had more than that in common. We’d both, at different times, been the lover of one of the firm’s partners, philandering Bill Sergement.

After that call, I placed another—this one to Wanda, to warn her what I was up to. She was off on a doggy walk with one of her clients. She didn’t have any problem with what I proposed—as she shouldn’t, since she wasn’t on the condo board. At least not yet.

But she, too, was curious about what Julie wanted. I told her I’d fill her in later, as long as it was appropriate.

I had a feeling Julie might be about to impart her own suspicions on Margaret’s murder—or to set me on someone else in an attempt to take my suspicions off her. I wasn’t convinced now that Julie didn’t do it. I’d see how I felt about it later.

In a little while, I was in Julie’s lovely unit—the site of the condo association meeting last night.

Julie’s appearance hadn’t particularly struck me before. Her facial expressions said a lot—smiling or scrunched, it seemed. But today, she seemed to want to make a big impression on me. Her hair was much lighter than its prior nondescript brown, and I recalled that she was a hairstylist to the stars. Must have used a little of that magic on herself. She’d also put on more makeup than I’d seen before. Pretty, yes, but a bit much for midafternoon. Only thing ordinary about her that day was her clothes: standard blue jeans and a navy print shirt that wasn’t tucked in.

I remained in the business casual I’d worn to the office, so I at least didn’t feel that I embarrassed myself as we sat in her living room—looking much larger now that all the folding chairs for the meeting were removed and what must be the regular furnishings were restored. I put my big purse down beside me, then looked expectantly toward Julie, now at the other end of her big, fluffy sofa on the polished hardwood floor.

“In case you’re wondering,” she began, taking a sip from a mug of coffee. She’d offered me some, too, and my cup sat on an ornately carved coffee table. “You haven’t met my husband, Ivan; he’s away on a trip.” That scrunchy look came back to her face. “He always seems to be gone when things are going on around here that I need him for.” She laughed. “But that’s the nature of the film industry. It calls, and people who work in it have to answer.”

She seemed to await my opinion, so I nodded. “Guess so,” I said. “My only real involvement has been with the
Animal Auditions
TV show, and it’s filmed locally.”

“Oh, that’s right. I love that show!” Again her smile.