Meow is for Murder (5 page)

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Authors: Linda O. Johnston

BOOK: Meow is for Murder
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As if she wouldn’t pencil in another . . .
“I’m Kendra Ballantyne, Leon,” I told him. “I’m a lawyer. And I’m aware that Amanda obtained a temporary restraining order from the courts to stop you from harassing her. That means you can’t come close to her home, let alone trespass on her driveway. If you leave right now and promise not to come back I won’t have you arrested. Deal?” I lifted my cell phone and waved it as if it was a talisman against evil.
“Tell me where she is,” he growled again, his face no less contorted with rage than a minute earlier. I couldn’t even guess his age—somewhere between hormone-excessive adolescence and the age of reason. His sleeveless shirt really showed off his muscles. Big, rippling biceps—might have looked sexy, if I hadn’t been concerned about how strong he might be if he grabbed me.
“She’s not here,” I said, hoping he couldn’t hear the hammering of my heart. “She isn’t anywhere that you can find her.” Besides, I had no idea where she was, either. “And I’d suggest you not be here when she gets home—whenever that might be.” I flipped my phone open and held it visible to him as I started to press in 911. “Bye, Leon.”
“Kendra Ballantyne? I’ll remember that. But, sure, I’ll go . . . now. Tell Amanda I’ll see her soon.”
With that, he turned his back and sauntered slowly toward his car. He opened the driver’s door but stood there for a moment longer as he turned back toward me. His insolent eyes roved up and down my body, and I shivered as if I could feel their creepy, crawly progress.
And then he slid inside and sped away, peeling rubber with a screech that additionally iced my blood.
I remained still, clutching my phone and catching my breath. Who should I call? Phoning 911 without the presence of the vile TRO violator would do no good. I had a contact of sorts at the LAPD—homicide detective Ned Noralles. But there’d been no death here today, except, perhaps, my sense of security.
Amanda? Maybe. In fact, I’d absolutely have to tell her all about what had occurred. But with her, I’d want to think first about what to say and how to say it.
And at the moment, uninhibited venting was what I needed.
Almost instinctively, I scrolled down my list of most recently called numbers.
And sighed with a sort of relief when the welcome male voice at the other end said, “Hi, Kendra.”
Jeff.
Sagging sideways against my Beamer for support, I quickly told him what had happened.
“Damn!” he exclaimed into my sensitive ear. I winced.
“Yeah,” I said. “That goes double for me.”
“You called the cops, I presume.”
“You presume too much. What good would they do now? Besides, for the police to enforce a TRO, it has to be on file. I’d have to talk to Amanda about whether she followed appropriate procedure, which cops have copies, that kind of thing.”
“I know she did things right, since I advised her and so did her lawyer.”
“Who is . . . ?”
“A guy named Mitch Severin. I got his name from another P.I. You know him?”
“No, but there are a lot of lawyers in L.A.”
“Wait a minute,” Jeff said, sounding suddenly peeved. “Did you say you’d have to talk to Amanda? You called me before you called her?”
“Well . . . yes.” I noticed a couple of big guys strutting down Amanda’s tree-lined street walking a couple of big dogs—looked like mastiff mixes. Where had they been five minutes ago?
“You’d better let her know. And when you talk to her, you can find out who her contact regarding the TRO is at the LAPD, which stations have copies, and where you can get one, too. Maybe also call her lawyer, in case there’s anything useful he can tell you.”
“Sure.” I attempted to sound all together despite how disjoined my rattled nerves still felt. “Soon as we hang up. Bye, Jeff.”
“You’re okay, Kendra?” he asked—which is what he should have done in the first place. Okay, so now I was peeved as well as unnerved. Maybe the peeved part was an especially good thing, since it had started to overshadow my anxiety.
“Of course. Bye.”
“You called me first because you needed some comfort,” he said softly. “And here I was acting like a P.I. instead of someone who loves you. I’m sorry. Kendra, I wish I’d been there with you.”
Me, too,
I thought. His sudden attitude amendment had caused a rush of moisture to my eyes. He loved me? I’d thought I’d heard him say that a few months ago, but hadn’t followed it up once Amanda had interjected herself back into his life.
And me? How did I feel?
Who knew?
I stood straight, no longer relying on my Beamer to boost me up. No way was I going to give in to emotionalism right now.
Any
kind of emotionalism. Especially after being confronted by someone else’s stalker, a situation I’d handled just fine.
“I’ll let you talk to Leon next time,” I said in a tone I intended to sound joking.
“There’d better not be a next time,” he said angrily.
“I agree,” I replied. “At least I’ll be prepared from now on, while I’m caring for Amanda’s cats. I’ll know just what to do if Leon shows up again.”
“What’s that?” he asked.
“Run like heck into the house and call the cops,” I replied. “But you know what?”
“What?”
“For the first time since I learned she existed, after meeting Leon I feel a lot more empathy for your ex.”
 
I’M NOT A coward. No way. No how.
But I always insist on taking a reasoned approach. Which was why I didn’t follow Jeff’s irritating instructions and immediately contact Amanda on her cell. I still hadn’t decided how to play out that phone call. I considered it as the Beamer and I headed for our next pet-sitting stop.
Jeff had dangled the little tidbit that he loved me. And still I searched my own heart for a hint of how to respond.
I stared up at the darkening sky through my dirty windshield, hoping to see some stars I could startle by asking their advice.
Ha! In overpopulated-L.A.’s atmosphere? With all the lights glowing at ground level, I’d be lucky to see the beams from a low-flying helicopter.
No matter. I wasn’t the superstitious sort anyway. No astrological forecast would fix my fate.
I cared for Jeff. Probably
could
love him. But did I at this uncertain instant?
With Amanda still dangling between us like a black widow spider sliding insidiously along a particularly sticky strand of web?
Well, heck, maybe she really had just attempted to rely on Jeff because of her fear of Leon.
Sure.
Still, stopped at a traffic light in a commercial area on Burbank Boulevard, I pondered the possibilities of how I’d inform Amanda of Leon’s latest.
Should I act all matter-of-fact? “Hey, Amanda, just wanted to let you know the cats are cool today. Oh, and by the way, your stalker Leon showed up and suggested that I let him know how to find you.”
Or how about horrified? “Why didn’t you warn me that your stalker was likely to appear and menace me?”
Lawyerly? “I am not your attorney, so please put me in contact with Mr. Severin.” Wasn’t that the name Jeff mentioned? “I’ll let him know that Leon isn’t complying with the TRO and suggest that he counsel you accordingly.”
These options and others barraged my already frazzled psyche until, before I knew it, I’d already tended all my pet-sitting clients and aimed the Beamer back toward Jeff’s, where Lexie and Odin awaited me.
And still I hadn’t sought out Amanda.
“Okay, I admit it,” I said to Lexie and Odin after we returned from our late-night walk beneath the streetlights on Jeff’s blessedly flat avenue. Odin’s an Akita. They’re good guard dogs, so I’d only looked over my shoulder a scant dozen times as we strolled. “I’ve been procrastinating. Now, don’t look at me that way,” I instructed Lexie, who regarded me reproachfully with cocked head and accusatory eyes. “If Amanda had been anywhere near here, somewhere Leon could have located her, I’d have let her know immediately.”
Lexie’s tail wagged her understanding and exoneration.
“I’ll call her first thing in the morning. I promise.”
Only I didn’t have to. As soon as I’d exited the shower and stuck on my nightshirt, my cell phone rang.
The caller ID informed me it was Amanda.
Almost before I could utter a hello, she started shouting. “Leon was at my house? Are Cherise and Carnie all right? Why didn’t you call me?”
Not even a hint of, “Gee, Kendra, I hope he didn’t hurt you.” But what did I expect from her? Certainly no sympathy, let alone any compassionate concern.
And then reality slapped me nearly silly.
There were only two ways Amanda could have known Leon accosted me in her driveway. I didn’t imagine that the selfsame stalker had suddenly unearthed his prey’s unlisted cell phone number and called to describe his day to her.
That meant she’d been speaking with Jeff.
“Didn’t Jeff tell you?” I responded sweetly, settling my butt on the bed to prevent myself from slithering beneath it in sorrow. “He told me to wait until tomorrow morning, so the news wouldn’t interrupt your
sleep
tonight.”
I swallowed my outraged gasp as I heard a stifled conversation somewhere in the background, as if Amanda attempted to hide its contents from me. Or the identity of the other person, which suddenly seemed quite apparent.
Jeff? With Amanda? That SOB! Now I knew just why she’d conned me into caring for her cats—all the better to push his duplicity smack into my face.
In moments, Amanda’s voice resumed its scratching of my sore eardrums. “He said he didn’t—”
A pregnant pause, and then another voice assailed me. “Kendra, I’m with Amanda, as if you didn’t know by now, but whatever you’re thinking, it’s not that. I’m—”
“Who said I’m thinking anything, Jeff? You were right to let Amanda know immediately about Leon. Tell her I apologize for not informing her myself. At least Leon’s unlikely to figure out she’s followed you to Chicago. Oh, and by the way, Odin sends his love. He’s doing fine. Good night to Amanda. And you, too.”
I flipped my phone’s flaps back together decisively. Tears trying to torment my eyes? I insisted on their immediate evaporation.
Well, so much for love, and Amanda out of his life. They were trysting in the Windy City.
And the body of water she’d mentioned? It had to be Lake Michigan.
In my mind, I conjured a cyclone that struck their shared bed and blew away some mighty critical body parts. The growl I evoked in my head must have emanated from my mouth, since both dogs sat up at attention on the floor beside me.
And then my phone dared to intone “It’s My Life” again.
Yet again, it was Amanda.
“I’ll come home early, Kendra,” she said with no preface. “I’m worried about my cats.”
“They’re fine, and whatever I may feel toward you, I’ve already assured you I won’t take it out on them.”
“Not you. Leon. He’s threatened them since I got the restraining order. And since he knows I’m not around, he may harm them to get to me.”
I couldn’t discount that possibility. And even if Cherise and Carnie were not my favorite cats in the cosmos, I most certainly wouldn’t want Leon to harm them. Plus, as a lawyer, I had to consider the possibility of my own liability if I failed to keep my charges safe.
Still, I had to add, “But if you come back and Leon learns about it, it’s you he’ll go after.”
“For my cats’ sake, I’ll take my chances,” Amanda said.
For that instant, as a fellow animal adorer, I almost stopped abhorring Amanda.
Until I heard Jeff’s muffled voice engaging in a similar sort of persuasion.
“How soon do you expect to be home?” I inquired coolly.
“I’ve checked about changing my reservations,” she said. “I’d like to leave right now, but I’ve promised my doctors to stay through Monday morning since they paid for a class for me here. I’ll be home late that afternoon.”
“Glad to hear it.” This was Thursday. If she was
that
worried, why wasn’t she ignoring her bosses and barreling back home?
“You’d better keep my cats safe until then, Kendra.”
“I will,” I assured her, hoping it was so.
 
WHEN JEFF CALLED back a half hour later, I stayed amazingly pleasant. “You were right,” I acknowledged, resting my back against his bed pillows, Odin and Lexie curled up at my side. Okay, so I hadn’t the heart to be a hound-dog disciplinarian. And their cuddly presences gave me a heck of a lot more peace of mind. “I should have called her in the first place. Good thing she joined you in Chicago so you could let her know what was happening on her home front.”
“It didn’t happen that way, Kendra. I never told her I was heading for Chicago, let alone where to find me here.”

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