Feline Fatale (28 page)

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Authors: Linda O. Johnston

BOOK: Feline Fatale
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“Maybe, but the cops let it drop that that particular key might have been right there, in the unit, when they started collecting evidence. Only one, though.”
Hmmm. That might be an even more telling clue than the missing collar. But only if whoever found it had used it to get into Margaret’s condo.
That was when I knew who the next target of my suspect-weeding scenario would be.
Chapter Thirty
DANTE AND I sat on the sofa in my small living room. Soft, furry Lexie was on my lap. I’d made my necessary calls, and was waiting now till it made sense to start visiting my pet charges for the last time that day.
I wished I could start my next suspect setup earlier. But even if I’d been able to get Rachel to pick up most of my evening pet-sitting, I still had to wait until Wanda was available.
As for my lawyering, when I filled Borden in on what appeared to be my resolution of the Pierre problem, he was happy. I didn’t have anything else pressing that day, so he seemed okay with my not coming in till the next day.
“Don’t you have some executive stuff to take care of?” I asked Dante, who sat there asserting dominion over my TV remote. I had satellite service, and he’d found a business channel that he’d put on mute, staring at the streaming stock prices at the bottom of the screen. Since we were on the West Coast, I wasn’t sure what the amounts signified so late in the day, when the stock market was already closed in New York.
Not of huge interest to me. I’d invested what little extra money I’d been able to save in bank CDs and conservative mutual funds. I was considering liquidating it all to pay down more on my mortgage. But I wasn’t sure it was the wisest thing to do.
Instead of worrying about that for the moment, I stared at Dante, on the far side of my sectional sofa. I felt restless. Ready to do something. But all I could do just then was wait.
Dante must have felt my stare, since in an instant he returned it. Then he wasn’t at the far end of the sofa any longer, and Lexie was on the floor.
 
DANTE DIDN’T COME pet-sitting with me. He simply sent me on my way after retrieving a laptop computer from the trunk of his Mercedes. I’d given him an extra key to my apartment, so he could lock up when he left. He also knew the security system code.
“I’ll be at Brigadoon by seven o’clock,” he told me.
“Me, too.” I gave him a good-bye kiss, patted Lexie, and left.
Fortunately, all my animal charges were in excellent condition, a little needy of attention, but I absolutely could deal with that. And did. Despite my feeling stressed for time, I spent a sufficient amount of it walking, feeding, playing, hugging, and whatever it took to ensure that the pets all got plenty of TLC.
When I was done, it was time to head to Burbank and Brigadoon.
I called Wanda on the way. As I’d requested, she had set up the meeting that I’d hoped for.
“I don’t think it’ll be particularly pleasant, though,” she warned. “I got a pretty cold reception when I called, especially since I structured my request around the issue of whether people should still be able to keep pets at the condo, and, if so, whether the rules should be amended.”
“As long as we’ve been granted an audience,” I told her, “that’s perfect. And if my suspicions are correct, having a pleasant time definitely won’t be in the cards . . . although, with luck, we’ll have a finale to our search for someone to replace you in the cops’ eyes as top suspect.”
“Really?” she inquired, then said, “Interesting possibility. See you in a little while.” She hung up.
I called Dante. He was nearly there, having stayed at my place till it was time to go. “Started negotiations for any more perfect pet food to carry in your stores, or to acquire more sites to build them?”
“That’ll happen tomorrow,” he said, and I heard the smile in his voice. “Today I just sent some encouraging e-mails to my best store managers.”
Which might partly explain why the HotPets chain was so successful. It definitely had one hot, kind, and astute dude at the reins.
Soon I was outside the condo complex. I saw Dante’s car parked on the street, and he came over and got into the Escape’s passenger side. I called Wanda, and she performed her buzzer magic to open the outside gate and let us in.
A janitorial truck rolled in behind us. What a surprise. I felt sure it had originated in Burbank’s city center.
I parked near Wanda’s building, quietly approached the truck, and confirmed that these were the cops.
Wanda buzzed us all into the building, cops included. Since they were invited by a resident, they might not require a warrant for the condo, although that might not be true for individual units.
Dante and I headed to Wanda’s apartment, where she waited at the door. I wasn’t exactly sure where the cops went, but they’d told me to record my meeting with a high-tech gizmo that they handed me. Best I could tell, it was a radio of sorts so the cops would be able to eavesdrop. Maybe it even contained a teensy camera. I wore a jacket with a breast pocket, and the part hanging out resembled a pen flashlight.
My petite friend Wanda didn’t look particularly perky these days, but she’d spiced up her appearance with a bright orange gauzy top.
I peered around her into her unit. “Darryl’s not here?”
She shook her head. “Still at Doggy Indulgence. I’m not sure what’s going on, but he said he had a late meeting today with one of his employees—that nasty little Kiki, I think.”
Interesting. Maybe two issues would come to a head tonight—assuming that my assumptions about who killed Margaret were now correct, and I got the kind of reaction I anticipated from my main suspects.
“So, are we ready?” I asked Dante and Wanda.
We were, and my gang headed to the unit near Margaret’s where Ruth and Teddy Bertinetti lived.
Yes, they had rushed to the top of my suspect list, even though I didn’t know their motive. Of course I could be misinterpreting what I thought had become a big clue.
I’d find out soon.
We walked along the zigzag hall, at one point passing the Gustins’ unit. “Seen Lady Cuddles lately?” I asked Wanda.
“Only professionally. I visited the Gustins to talk about plans for their next trip, probably in a month or so. That cute little kitty came over and made a fuss over me, like I was family.”
“Were the Gustins okay with that, or did they get jealous?”
“They seemed relieved, since it sounds like both Trudy and Jamiel have extensive stays planned in other towns on film shoots.”
“Good deal. We’ll have to give Lady Cuddles some extra catnip if it turns out this ploy solves Margaret’s murder.” I glanced at Dante, and he grinned.
“Yes, HotPets has a good supply of cat toys containing catnip,” he said.
We were soon at the Bertinettis’ door. The decorative wreath I’d seen before was gone—a stark omen of what we’d find inside?
Teddy greeted us none too enthusiastically. “Come in.” He stepped aside so we could obey. The entry looked like most others in the condos that I had visited—wooden floor, and an open doorway into the living room on one side.
Ruth was already there, sitting on a sofa with black upholstery that matched a couple of chairs facing it. None looked especially comfortable, but that seemed appropriate for the choices made by these two. The room also contained some large potted plants, shelves built into the wall containing a huge HDTV, and a small upright piano. I wondered which one played the piano. Maybe they both did.
I also wondered whether the community association had any rules about when they could play it—and whether the Bertinettis, who were such sticklers for pet rules, obeyed those regarding music.
Once more I was struck by how much these two appeared to be in sync with one another. Teddy wore a casual blue striped shirt tucked into jeans. Ruth’s outfit was quite similar, although her shirt had a few more buttons open, revealing a diamond pendant. “Nice shelves,” I said to start the conversation. “Did that contractor Rutley Harris build them for you recently?”
“Yes,” Ruth replied, “But what’s this all about? I gather you want to discuss the shameful pet situation around here, but I’m not on the board . . . yet. I have no control over it at the moment. Although I’m definitely running for the vacant seat.”
“Wanda was just hoping that if we talked about it, we could change your mind. Have you met Dante?” I introduced him, stressing his significance in the pet community, including HotPets.
“You know, Ruth and Teddy, that there are all kinds of pets,” he said smoothly. “Not everybody has to love them, of course, but those who do, really consider their pets part of the family. Would you want to deprive the people who live here of their kids?”
“Pets are just animals,” Ruth spat, making me strongly consider standing and smacking the nasty woman. But of course I didn’t. As a lawyer, I knew better than to engage in assault and battery.
Even so . . .
“The thing is”—I gestured a warning to Wanda, who also looked as if she considered committing mayhem—“since the biggest advocate of changing the rules concerning pets isn’t around any longer, we were hoping to lobby some of her supporters and get you to change your minds.” I took a seat on one of the chairs, as if I’d been invited to, and Dante and Wanda did likewise.
“Forget it,” Teddy said staunchly, standing beside his wife with his arms crossed.
“You’re certainly entitled to your opinion,” I said in a tone I intended to sound charming. “And I have to admit that there have been some animals around here who’ve been permitted to break the rules.”
“Like the cat I heard about,” Dante tossed in, as if he’d been coached. Which he had been. “That little kitten who seems to always be running around, instead of being confined in her unit. What’s her name?” He looked at Wanda.
“Lady Cuddles,” she responded.
“Right,” I agreed, before the Bertinettis could interrupt. “Did you know that Wanda found Lady Cuddles right there with poor Margaret, the night she was murdered?”
“We heard.” Ruth’s generally pinched expression grew even uglier, as if she were disgusted.
“Did you also know that Lady Cuddles lost her collar with her name tag that night?” Wanda asked. “I happened to notice that it was gone. The police seem to think it could have been taken by the killer, perhaps because it had blood on it. Isn’t that awful?” She gave a sweet little shudder.
But my attention was focused more on the Bertinettis, who now were both on the couch. Ruth’s expression seemed to harden. Teddy’s usually squinty blue eyes widened as if he was trying to assume an expression of innocence.
So far, they were still my top suspects. Especially considering their response to one of my questions.
“Anyway, since you were such good friends with Margaret, maybe you could ask some of your other friends at Brigadoon if they happened to have seen the missing collar,” I said. “Although I assume most of your friends took Margaret’s side on the anti-pet issue, so they wouldn’t have much reason to kill her.”
So
, I thought,
why did you
? Not that they’d officially admitted it—yet. I hoped they would when they found the collar they’d most likely thought they tossed away.
Time to set that up.
I glanced at Dante, who gave a conspiratorial little nod. He was set up to be our gardener this time—to plant our little item of evidence.
“Would you two mind if I got myself a glass of water?” he asked. “My throat’s really dry.” He stood to head for the kitchen. When Ruth started to stand, he said, “No, I didn’t mean to interrupt the conversation. I can get it myself, really.”
But of course she went with him. We’d sort of assumed she would accompany him—or at least one of the Bertinettis would.
“I guess this is a good time for me to leave,” Wanda said. “I’m sure you won’t want to hear this, Teddy, but I have a little more pet-sitting here at the condos to do tonight. I can see myself out.”
But Teddy went toward the front door with her.
Our plans for planting the collar actually had three possibilities, depending on which of us was left alone by the Bertinettis. Dante could have hidden one in the kitchen, or Wanda could have stuck one behind a door off the entry.
So my ordering multiple collars and tags had the clearest purpose yet.
But now it was left to me, and I’d already scoped out a suitable spot: inside the piano. I headed there, my hand in my pants pocket, and made sure no one was in the room when I lifted the lid and carefully placed the collar inside.
I was standing by the piano seat when everyone but Wanda returned to the room. “Is it okay if I play something?” I asked, and, not waiting for an answer, sat down and started playing a rousing version of “Chopsticks.”
Except that when I got to the part past the chorus, where the highest notes were played, they turned out sour. As if something restricted the piano strings.
“What’s the matter?” I asked innocently. “Isn’t your piano in tune?”
“Of course it is,” exploded Ruth. I had the impression that everything around her, like her dark, perfectly placed furniture, had to be flawless. She’d been standing near the doorway by Dante, who had a glass of water in his hands, and she now hurried over to where I was.
“I wonder, though . . . ,” I said thoughtfully, and lifted the lid hiding the piano’s innards. And gasped. “What’s that?” I asked as I peered in.
“What’s what?” demanded Teddy.
All four of us were suddenly staring in. Then I backed up for a moment to ensure that any photos or recordings being made by the gadget sticking out of my shirt pocket took in as much of this as possible.
“I’d better call the police,” I said sternly. “That looks like Lady Cuddles’s missing ID stuff.”
“How did it get in there, Teddy?” Ruth shrieked, suddenly becoming unhinged.. “Did you mess up with that, like everything else?”

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