The Girl With the Dachshund Tattoo (14 page)

A sliver of sunshine broke through the dark clouds, as Darby said, “I can’t imagine you’ve done anything he can’t forgive.”

Guilt kept me from looking at her for too long. I stashed the empty totes under the table. “Did you find Malone and give him your photos yesterday?”

She nodded. “He was actually very receptive. He even thanked me.”

I laughed, picturing how difficult that must have been for him. “How very un-Malone-like. You know, he’s done a couple of un-Malone-like things lately. I wonder why.”

Darby shrugged. “I try not to think about him.”

Talking about the ever-so-serious detective made me remember the bet Sven had asked me to place. I reached for the crinkled twenty shoved in my pocket. “Have you heard anything about a gambling ring?” I asked Darby.

“No, but I’ve heard talk between some of the other vendors and fans about friendly wagers being placed.”

I pulled my hair back into a quick ponytail and sighed. “I think there’s more to it than that.”

“Like organized crime?” Darby asked in a hushed voice.

I shook my head. “Sven, from the Koffee Klatch, made it sound like he was placing a low-key wager. At the time I believed him. But when I ran into Lenny at Rodney’s chili truck, I got the feeling it was more serious than a simple friendly wager. Speaking of chili, I’m starving. I haven’t eaten lunch.”

Darby opened her messenger bag and pulled out a snack-sized energy bar. “Here.”

“Are you sure?” I practically had it unwrapped before she could answer.

“I’ve got two more.”

“Thank you,” I managed to say around a mouthful of rolled oats and chocolate chips.

The mini-bar was gone in two bites. I was about to suggest a quick trip to the food trucks before we were swamped with customers when I saw Grey pop out from behind a young family of four who were all dressed like Underdog—capes included.

“Grey’s here.” I sounded like a teen girl who was about to be caught with a boy in her room.

Darby leaned against me, peeking over my shoulder. “I thought he wasn’t coming.”

I turned toward my best friend, quickly wiping the crumbs from the corner of my mouth. “Do I have chocolate smeared across my face?”

Darby held me at arm’s length and gave me a quick best-friend-once-over. “You look fine.”

“Yeah, well, if my Mama was here she’d tell me to slap on some lipstick.” My mother thought everything was better, or at least easier to ignore, if she was in full makeup. And jewelry. Mama could easily be confused with a model at a Tiffany’s photo shoot.

I looked back in Grey’s direction and waved. He nodded in acknowledgment. He’d dressed down today. Dark jeans with an untucked cobalt blue, button-up shirt. It felt like my stomach was performing an Irish clog dance. The closer Grey got, the stronger the clog-stomping.

“Do you want me to leave?” Darby asked.

“Absolutely not.” I may have sounded slightly panicked, which, given the fact that I felt like I was about to go on my first blind date, was perfectly normal.

“Does he have a Gina’s Pizza to-go bag?” Darby asked.

I sighed in food lust at the brown paper bag clutched in his left hand. Gina’s Pizza was my favorite restaurant. “Yes, he does.”

“Good afternoon, ladies.” Grey’s deep voice shook me to my toes.

“Hey,” I said, dividing my attention between his handsome face and the food.

“Hi,” Darby said through an amused smile. “She missed lunch.”

My mouth watered as the smell of marinara tickled my nose. “Please tell me that’s a meatball sandwich.” If this was his version of a peace offering, I accepted.

Grey peeked inside the bag and acted like he wasn’t sure I’d want it. “Well, it’s only a half and no longer warm. Oh, and I have a bottle of water.”

I held out my hand. “Perfect.”

He chuckled as he handed me the food. “I took a chance you missed lunch.”

If I wasn’t already in love with him, I’d fall in love all over again. Obviously, I could be bribed with food.

“Any sign of Betty and her gun?” he asked.

“Not yet. We’re no longer the only ones looking for the filmmaker either. Apparently, she recorded Gia threatening her. Now Gia wants the video.”

“I hate to say it, but that would make great footage,” Darby said.

“What about you? Did you have any luck?” I asked Grey as I pulled out the sandwich and unwrapped one end. I inhaled the sweet smell of marinara as I lifted the sandwich to my mouth. My teeth bit into the toasted bread with a loud crunch. I closed my eyes and sighed. Heaven.

He shook his head. “Unfortunately, no. Have you heard from Malone?”

I shook my head while I finished chewing. “Nothing. Although Darby did give him a copy of all her photos yesterday. He was very appreciative.”

Darby scoffed. “I don’t know about that. But he did mutter the words, ‘thank you’.”

“Does anyone want a bite?” I held up what was left of my sandwich. They both declined, and I was thankful. Darby and Grey made small talk as I finished my lunch.

“Have you seen Hagan Stone today?” he asked Darby.

“Oh, yes. I met with him early this morning. He’s around here somewhere. Did you need to talk to him?”

He shook his head. “No.”

“I noticed the two of you talking yesterday. I didn’t realize you knew each other.” She wiped her palms on her jeans as if she were nervous.

I watched Grey with a sideways glance, curious to hear his answer.

“We don’t. I met him while looking for Betty’s gun.”

Darby’s blue eyes blinked repeatedly. “Oh, it seemed like you were awfully friendly.”

Grey’s shoulders tensed. If you didn’t know him, you probably wouldn’t have noticed. But I did know him, and he was being very cautious with his answer. “He’s a friendly guy. He was telling me about the dogumentary and how excited he was to have the promotion.”

I frowned. That wasn’t the story he’d given me. Grey was lying to one of us.

Darby grabbed her camera and messenger bag. “I’ve got to go. The race will start soon, and I want to shoot some pictures of the crowd beforehand.”

“Is everything okay?” I asked her.

She nodded, a tentative smile pasted on her face. “I realized how late it’s getting. Can’t document the race without the photographer.”

“True. Good luck. I hope today runs smoother than yesterday.”

“Don’t we all. See ya later, Grey.”

“Good-bye.” He waved as she walked away.

I cracked open the water bottle and drank deeply, washing down the last of my sandwich. “I’m surprised to see you.”

He leaned against the table. “I had some unexpected free time so I thought I’d swing by. Where’s Missy?”

“At the house. Yesterday was too much excitement for her. She’ll be disappointed she missed you.” I gathered my trash and looked around for a garbage can. Not seeing one, I said, “I’ll be right back.”

“Can’t stand being alone with me?” Did he actually look worried or was that wishful thinking on my part?

I gestured to the budding crowd and excited dogs. “This is not alone. I’m looking forward to being alone with you later tonight.” Feeling confident in our relationship for the first time in weeks, I kissed him lightly on the mouth without an ounce of hesitation. “Hold down the fort. I’m going to find a place to toss this before a dog sniffs it out. If someone stops, entertain them until I get back.”

My stomach was full, and my heart was optimistic. I felt a huge goofy smile slowly spread across my mouth. I picked my way through the crowd toward the bright yellow barrel, thinking about the different possible endings of my dinner with Grey later tonight.

A blur of blue velour sped ahead of me, knocking a dog walker aside. It looked like Gia and Zippy. I bobbed to the right but lost sight of them after they slipped behind the Feline and Me tent.

I reached the trash can and pitched my garbage inside. Before returning to Grey, I decided to make a quick side trip in the direction where I thought I’d seen Gia and her dog dash off. Sure enough, they were there. With her back to the crowd, Gia bent over and poured the contents from her purple reusable water bottle into Zippy’s special bowl. The dog lapped up the liquid almost as quickly as she poured it.

I wish I’d paid more attention to her when she’d rattled off his schedule earlier. Normally, I wouldn’t be suspicious of an owner pouring her pooch a drink. But Gia had been adamant that whatever was in the bottle was hers. “Vitamin water,” she had said. I wasn’t so sure.

She’d purposely hidden behind a tent, away from public viewing, before giving Zippy his drink. What was Gia Eriksen hiding? My long stride ate up the distance between Grey and me at a quick pace.

It was possible I’d just caught Gia red-handed breaking the rules. I had to find a way to get that water bottle to Doctor Daniel.

Chapter Seventeen

I HAULED MY BEHIND back to the booth, skidding to a stop in front of Grey who was leaning against the table reading email from his phone. I grabbed his shoulders and practically shouted, “I think I just saw Gia doping Zippy.”

Grey looked up, surprised. “What?”

I tamped down my excitement. After stepping to the side, I pointed toward the Feline and Me booth. “Over there, behind the tent. Lenny might have been telling the truth. We’ve got to get Gia’s water bottle.”

“You’re leveling a pretty serious allegation. Are you sure she was drugging him?”

What a joy-killer. I dragged my gaze away from where Gia and Zippy were tucked away like a couple of paparazzi-ducking celebrities. “Nooo,” I dragged out the one syllable word. “That’s why I said we have to get the water bottle from her. We need proof.”

He didn’t say a word. At least not verbally. I ignored his nonverbal cues and took his silence as an invitation to sway him to my way of thinking.

“Don’t you find it odd that she hid behind the tents to give her dog a drink? Why be so secretive?”

“Maybe she wanted privacy.”

“She could have gone to the veterinarian clinic or her car. What if Lenny was right? What if she’s been cheating this whole time?”

He pocketed his phone with a sigh. “You’re scheming.”

“No,” I lied, my eye twitching.

A wry smile settled on his mouth. “The eye spasm gives you away.”

I pressed my fingers against my eyelid.

“You need to stay out of it,” he said.

I sighed, frustrated. “Why? Why do I need to stay out of it? If Gia is cheating, aren’t I just as guilty for turning a blind eye?”

He attempted to hide a pained look, but I saw it and recognized the furrowed brow for what it was—resignation.

“What did you have in mind?” he asked.

I wasn’t one to gloat over a win. Believe it or not, I am willing to solicit suggestions if warranted. To be honest, my motives weren’t one hundred percent pure. If I could find a way to get him emotionally invested in helping me, it might rebuild the trust I’d broken.

I stepped closer until we were an arm’s length apart. I lowered my voice. “You’re the FBI. What do you normally do?”

He crossed his arms across his chest. “First of all, I have facts, not assumptions. I get a warrant. And I don’t go off half-cocked. I have backup.”

The air around us dropped twenty degrees. What was I thinking, consulting a process-driven rule-follower?

I stepped back. “We don’t have three months to execute your standard operating procedure. We have an hour before the first heat. No pressure, but if you don’t come up with a suggestion, I’ll go with my idea. And we both know you won’t like my grab-and-dash plan.”

Grey and I stared at each other as he silently strategized. My plan was simple: confront Gia and make her hand over the bottle and contents for Daniel to analyze. I even had a backup plan if she refused: grab the container and run. It was plan B that I knew Grey wouldn’t like.

“Unless she admits to cheating, Zippy will run in the race. If she is cheating, any possible fallout will come after today’s event.”

There were times when Grey’s logic was rather deflating. This was one of those times. “I realize that’s a possibility. But we still have to at least try.”

I was so wrapped up in snatching the water bottle away from Gia, I didn’t notice Betty approach.

“Hey Cookie, Stephanie’s here sniffing around the food. I called Officer Cupcake, like I promised.”

Betty shuffled toward us as if nothing was amiss. But after one look at her, I knew that wasn’t the case. She looked like she’d wrestled the last brownie away from a starved serial-dieter and had paid for it dearly. She wore elastic polyester pants (since when did Betty wear polyester? She’s a cotton-and-silk type of gal), a wrinkled graphic tee with multiple stains, and grassy sneakers. Her straw handbag hung on her arm. Where were her silk printed pajamas? Her pearls?

Most importantly, where were her lipstick eyebrows?

All thoughts of Gia and the water bottle were pushed aside by my concern for Betty.

“Where have you been?” I wrapped my assistant in a hug. “Are you okay?”

Her small frame felt delicate in my embrace. Her coarse white hair, which needed a good brushing, tickled my nose. I stifled a sneeze. As we hugged, I detected an unusual scent surrounding her. I quietly sniffed her shirt. Unless she’d bought a new perfume, she smelled like hamburger. Maybe she’d brought her lunch with her.

She patted my back then stepped away. “You’re holding up traffic. How are we supposed to make money if you block the only entrance to our booth? Where is everyone?”

I gently held onto her arm. “Sweetie, I’ve been worried about you.”

She brushed off my hand as if I were being overprotective. I suppressed my surprise at the large bruise developing under her paper-thin skin on the back of her hand.

“You don’t need to worry about me. I can take care of myself,” she assured me.

It sure didn’t look like it.

She gave Grey an appreciative onceover. “Nice to see you again, handsome.”

He smiled warmly as he made his way to her. “I’m glad you’re here.”

As she lifted her cheek for him to kiss, the neckline of her shirt dipped, exposing two long red scratches at the base of her neck. I couldn’t let that pass.