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Authors: Linda O. Johnston

BOOK: Meow is for Murder
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“Well, I really like him,” Baird said. “But I understand what you’re saying. Tell you what. You hang on to him for now, and I’ll visit you both. Then we’ll see.”
“That sounds wonderful,” Maribelle said.
I suspected he’d be visiting not solely to see the happy Meph.
When I left a few minutes later, Baird stayed there. How very odd, I thought. He was the judge who’d gone after every female who ever appeared in his courtroom—mostly those young enough to be his daughters. He’d not seemed at all interested in the many women nearer his own age.
But there’d clearly been chemistry between Baird and Maribelle. Who could have guessed?
I had a feeling that from now on, one way or another, Meph would be subject to all the human attention he could ever want.
Chapter Twenty
SO VALENTINE’S DAY was Valentine’s Day after all, although not for me.
Even so, I held out hope I’d hear something from Jeff before the day was over. Maybe a phone call containing an immense apology for Amanda’s intrusion into our lives and an attestation of undying love?
“Hah!” I said as I hugged Lexie upon my return to our comfy garage-top home. At least my puppy was safe. Under the circumstances of a threat hanging over our heads, I determined to let her romp in our fenced in yard, absolutely supervised, rather than taking a walk outside our grounds.
No incidents overtook us, and although I heard Beggar barking within the big house, I didn’t see Rachel. Nineteen years old, she probably had a hot Valentine’s date of her own.
Her dad, Russ, remained out of town, or I’d have invited him inside for a nightcap—in the unlikely event he was spending this evening alone. He was a redheaded hunk, and although he was a little old for me, I’d considered him for a fleeting flirtation.
Which would have been especially nice on Valentine’s night.
Okay, I was lonesome. “I admit it,” I told Lexie. Canine company, especially of the Cavalier kind, was delightful, but it didn’t make up for my lack of a real, human female-male relationship.
Especially when I’d assumed, not long ago, that I had one.
Although it wasn’t especially late, I considered heading to bed early with a good book, preferably a thriller that contained a lot more killings than kisses.
That was my kind of mood.
Only, just as I started stripping for the shower, my cell phone rang.
Oh joy
, I thought, sardonically scanning at the caller ID. I didn’t need a gloating good night from Amanda.
And if she just happened to be with Jeff . . .
Oh, hell. I answered anyway.
“Kendra? Kendra, please call Mitch and come to the North Hollywood Police Station with him. I’m under arrest for murdering Leon!”
I hadn’t a chance to speak before she hung up. Why had she called me? She should have phoned her attorney first.
Despite feeling irritable, I couldn’t help a sense of sympathy. I’d nearly been in her situation, too. Fortunately, I’d figured out what happened while the multiple cases involving me were still under investigation, so I’d never been arrested.
But I’d expected it at any moment.
Consequently, I did as Amanda asked and called Mitch. He didn’t answer his phone at first, and as I was tossed into voice mail I shouted, “Mitch, if you can hear this, pick up. It’s an emergency.”
He sounded miffed when he responded, and I thought I heard a female murmur in the background. Maybe he had a hot Valentine’s date. Well, good for him. But if I had to suffer by hearing from Amanda, so should he. He was, after all, her actual attorney. I was merely her surrogate investigator who also happened to have a law license.
“I just heard from Amanda,” I told Mitch, then repeated what she’d said. “I’d rather not go to the police station, but—”
“Me, too, but I’d appreciate it if you’d come. Obviously Amanda wants you there.”
It wasn’t as if I had anything else exciting to do that night. “All right,” I said. “But I won’t stay long.”
“Fine.”
“There’s some stuff you should know.” I quickly ran down the extent of my recent investigation, including my visits to Kennedy McCaffrey and Nellie Zahn, plus meeting Amanda’s brother, Bentley, in person, and finishing with the threats to Lexie. “Nothing conclusive,” I admitted as I ended.
“Well, something there might be helpful.” He sounded as doubtful as I felt.
“Should you discuss it with Quentin Rush?”
“I will as soon as I can,” Mitch agreed. “For now—well, I’ll see you in a bit.”
Okay. I finally had my good excuse, although there were others I’d have latched on to, given a chance.
I called Jeff.
“Kendra,” he said, picking up immediately. Was that pleasure from hearing from me that I heard in his voice?
Or was I engaging in some serious wishful thinking?
Hell, I was the one who’d made it clear I didn’t want to see him tonight, that I had other plans.
Yeah, like playing Cupid for Baird Roehmann, of all people. When all I’d intended was to throw the not-so-poor man a bone. Or, rather, introduce him to a possible pet.
Anyway, I hesitated barely a moment before explaining to Jeff why I’d called. “I just heard from Amanda. She’s under arrest.”
“What?” Any pleasure I might have previously imagined was now absolutely absent from his voice. “Where is she? Is Mitch there?”
“North Hollywood station, and he’s on his way. Me, too.”
“Me, three,” Jeff said.
Hey. I was going to see my erstwhile lover on Valentine’s night after all.
At the same time he attempted to play knight racing to his ex-wife’s aid on the steed of his Cadillac Escalade.
 
AS I’D ANTICIPATED, there wasn’t much I could do at the station. I got to say hi, lucky me, to Ned Noralles and his sidekicks Howard Wherlon and new-guy Detective Elliot Tidus. But not being Amanda’s attorney, I couldn’t see her.
Mitch dashed in only minutes after I did. He was the one allowed to see to Amanda and get the details of her detainment.
I got to sit in the neighborhood-friendly yet nevertheless chill-provoking reception area of the North Hollywood station, watching the uniformed officer behind the desk answering phone calls and greeting the scant additional visitors that night.
Then Jeff arrived.
“Where is she?” he demanded when he spotted me. He was dressed in jeans and a black leather jacket. His light brown hair was mussy and begged to have fingers run through it to tame it. Damn him! Why was he looking so sexy tonight, when I wanted so badly to get over him?
I’d not seen much of him since Amanda ran into him with her car. Yet here he was, dashing figuratively to her side to defend her.
“Somewhere inside.” I gestured toward the door to the inner law-enforcement sanctum. “Mitch is with her.”
He pulled me to the side of the room, shifting his head down so his mouth neared my ear. Time for a sexy nibble? No way.
“I know what you’re thinking, Kendra,” he said softly. “And you’re wrong. I’m still mad as hell at Amanda for everything, including hurting me with her car. But she didn’t try to kill me. Whatever she is, she’s not a cold-blooded murderer.”
“Then you’re a hundred percent sure she didn’t kill Leon?” I was stuck at about ninety-eight percent, but not absolutely positive.
“Maybe in self-defense. That I could believe. But if that was what had happened, by now she’d have said so.”
“I can’t disagree,” I said. “But—”
I stopped speaking as Mitch came through the door. “I figured you both were here.”
As he should have at least with me, since he’d insisted that I come.
“Not much can be done tonight, but I’ve insisted on a speedy arraignment, and we’ll ask for bail then. Probably tomorrow.”
“She can make bail?” Jeff asked.
“Depends on the amount. We’ll ask for O.R.—own recognizance—but the chances of that aren’t high since this could be a capital case. Failing that, we’ll try for as low as we can convince the judge.”
“Well, let me know,” Jeff said. “I know some good bail bondsmen.”
I wasn’t extremely familiar with the criminal world, but in my limited experience I suspected that was an oxymoron.
“I could kick in something,” Jeff said. To get the ex-wife he purportedly disliked out of jail.
Jeff and I walked out together to the small parking lot for the public in front of the station, and he invited me to join him for a drink.
No time to answer before Ned Noralles strolled up to us. “Hubbard, how are you?” Obviously not caring a whit, he continued to me, “And Kendra. You haven’t handed me a better suspect than the one I’ve got. You must be slipping. Or, gee, could it be that I’m right this time?”
“Sarcasm doesn’t become you, Ned,” I said, “especially when you’re wrong once more. And this time it’s personal . . . again. The killer threatened my little Lexie.”
“Your dog?”
“Yep. You’ve met her. Anyway, I’ll be sure to let you know when I determine who the real murderer is.”
“Don’t bet on it,” he said with a scowl. “We’ve all the evidence we need. Amanda
Hubbard
is definitely it.” He stressed the last name, stealing a nasty grin toward Jeff.
“Oh, you bet I’ll bet on it. As if you didn’t know, I love a challenge.” With that, I slipped into my Beamer.
What an interesting end to Valentine’s night.
 
I COULDN’T LET Ned win that way. With Amanda under arrest, I obviously had to pick up my investigating pace.
I called her home the next morning, just in case she’d gotten out of jail earlier than anticipated. Not reaching her, I added her home to my list of pet-sitting places for the day.
Cherise and Carnie shouldn’t have to suffer due to their mistress’s untimely incarceration.
First thing, though, after dressing in a relatively casual skirt and blouse for an off-court day, I took care of my own pup—as well as my unsteady frame of mind. Lexie and I headed for Darryl’s.
“Kendra!” He sounded pleased to see me as we entered. Clad in his usual green Henley-style knit shirt with the Doggy Indulgence logo on the pocket, he was busy checking in the day’s clientele at the big front desk by the door.
Lexie beneath my arm, I watched in amusement as a large-sized shepherd mix played with a shih tzu, both tearing around the doggy resort, from the peoplelike sitting area to the canine toy-filled side and back again. Some of Darryl’s employees appeared a little less enthused, especially as other guests whose leashes or collars they held started woofing and acting eager to join the fun.
My own pup started to wriggle in earnest, but I held on.
“They just got here,” Darryl said with a little-boy grin. “They’re good buddies and like to wear off excess energy together first thing in the morning.”
“Cute,” I said. Then, “Could I see you in your office?”
“Sure.”
I kept Lexie in my arms, of course. For her protection, in the unlikely—I hoped—event that the boogeyman that threatened her still followed us.
Of course, Darryl didn’t know about that yet. “Is something wrong with Lexie?” he asked anxiously as he closed the door behind us.
“Not if I can help it.” I filled him in on all that had happened. “Ned Noralles notwithstanding, I must have worried someone. I don’t want to take Lexie with me, since that could mean leaving her alone in the car. But if I leave her here—”
“No worries,” he assured me, holding out his arms till I shifted Lexie into them. He gave her a big Darryl hug and held on. “You know I’m always around. I’ll tell everyone that she gets special attention, but the most special of all will be that she and I will be joined at the hip. Okay with you, girl?”
Lexie wagged her approval.
I headed out to see to Cherise and Carnie and my other charges.
The cats seemed surprisingly happy to see me—or at least to get some human company. They padded immediately into the seascaped hallway from the vicinity of the kitchen.
As if they’d anticipated my arrival, Carnie carried a poor, slain rodent that she dropped proudly on the pumps I’d put on for a day at the law office.
“Love you, too,” I told them both, then impulsively did lift the closest—Cherise—and give her a hug.
Damned if she didn’t give me a pleased purr. At least until I gingerly, and with a grimace, disposed of the day’s dead present.
“With luck, your mom will be home by tonight,” I told them, hoping it was so for all our sakes.
I kept my ears open all day for my cell phone to sing. And when it did, I felt a huge sigh of relief each time when it wasn’t Darryl telling me that disaster had struck.
And late afternoon, I did hear from Amanda. “I’m finally home,” she said in relief. “Did you look in on Cherise and Carnie this morning?”

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