The Girl With the Dachshund Tattoo (17 page)

“What are you doing?” I asked in a harsh whisper.

“Apparently the same as you.”

“Where have you been?”

He looked around. “This isn’t a good time.”

“Melinda, what do you have?” MacAvoy called out.

I pulled the bottle from Grey’s grasp. “We’ll finish this discussion later. Let’s go before he comes over here.”

I left Grey and rushed back to where I’d left Betty on the grassy pathway. I heard Grey and MacAvoy tailing me.

“Good job, Cookie.” Betty rubbed her hands to together. “I like how you got those boys to follow you over here. You get Grey; I get the reporter.”

I shook my head in exasperation. “He’s all yours.”

MacAvoy stopped next to me. Grey was only a couple of steps behind him. Mr. TV nodded at Betty and Grey as he smoothed his Ken-doll hair.

“Hello,” he said, in his on-screen persona.

I rolled my eyes in Grey’s direction.

“You’re even more handsome in person.” Betty smiled broadly. “Are you available?”

“Sheesh. At least tell him your name first.” I chuckled.

“I’m Betty.” She batted her eyes at him. “You got a girlfriend?”

Grey coughed back a laugh.

MacAvoy was clearly caught off guard, “We broke up.” He turned to me. “What are you up to Melinda?”

“Nothing that concerns you. Go back to eavesdropping on an official police-questioning.”

MacAvoy looked at me, amused. “I wasn’t eavesdropping.”

“Only because you weren’t close enough then.”

MacAvoy laughed. “Be careful. You’re warming up to me.”

“Hardly.”

Grey looked at me with surprise in his eyes. “A new friend?”

I found it hard to believe Grey didn’t know who’d joined our cozy little group.

“I don’t believe we’ve met. I’m Callum MacAvoy. Reporter for
Channel 5 News
.”

“Grey Donovan. Melinda’s fiancé.”

They shook hands, taking each other’s measure. Sheesh. This wasn’t the first time Grey had introduced himself as my fiancé, but this was more than an introduction. He was marking his territory. Which was completely out of character.

“Grey owns the ACT Gallery. If you’re serious about publicizing locally-owned businesses, his would be the perfect opener. He has a great eye for promising artists.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Translation: not happening.

I unscrewed the lid of the water bottle and looked inside. The bottle was still half full of a dark liquid. I inhaled, smelling the contents. My eyes widened. I knew that smell—an energy drink. Was that safe?

“Don’t drink that,” Grey ordered.

I wrinkled my nose. “I hadn’t planned on it. But even if I did, it wouldn’t hurt me.”

I’d downed my share of highly caffeinated drinks throughout my college days. Other than shaky hands, a racing heart, and an extended focus period, I’d never needed to seek medical attention.

“What’s the importance of the bottle?” MacAvoy asked.

“Gia’s a cheater and Cookie’s got the proof,” Betty explained. “If you’d like an exclusive on how we broke the case, I’d be happy to give you one over dinner.”

I sighed. “For once, can you at least try to keep a subject under wrap? Betty is my assistant. I’d like to tell you she’s harmless, but that’s a lie.”

She stroked her white hair. “I’m free tonight.” She cocked a boney hip toward MacAvoy.

The poor reporter looked like he wasn’t sure if she was serious or pulling his leg.

“I have to take this to Daniel. I think I know what he needs to test for,” I said.

“You should tell Malone. I’ll get him.” Betty bounced on the toes of her sneakers eager to get her man. And just that quickly, MacAvoy was forgotten, and she was back to the handsome detective.

I was about to burst her bubble. “Leave him be. Feeding your dog caffeine isn’t against the law. But it is against the race rules. We should give it to Daniel and let Hagan know.”

“Don’t tell Hagan yet. Let Daniel run his test. If it’s positive, then you can tell Hagan.” Grey had been awfully quiet until now.

“Why wouldn’t you want to inform Hagan?” MacAvoy challenged. “As the chairman, he should know that there’s a possibility of duplicity. It’s his obligation to remove any contestant if there’s a suspicion of cheating, race-rigging, or animal exploitation.”

I looked at Grey. “He has a point.” I grimaced as I realized I’d sided with Mr. TV over my fiancé.

“If there is a possibility of cheating, the accusation holds greater weight if it comes from the event’s veterinarian than us. Gia doesn’t strike me as the type of person who will walk away quietly.”

An equally valid point.

All four of us looked in her direction. Somehow, she managed to look self-righteous and pouty at the same time. She caught us staring at her. She must have told Malone because he turned in our direction.

“Great. He’s coming over here,” I complained.

“Yippee.” Betty cheered.

“How can you tell?” MacAvoy asked.

I sighed. “Experience.”

Sure enough, the minute Malone finished his interview he made his way toward our group. As we watched him draw closer, I wondered if I was the only one who felt anxious about what he may have overheard. Not that we had anything to hide, but Betty was in enough trouble as it was; she didn’t need to add illegal gambling to her list of offenses.

If the looks on the others’ faces were any indication, Grey and I were the only ones wishing Malone would stay on the other side of the grassy area. The other two looked like they were about to be granted their greatest wish.

“Mel, Betty.” Malone acknowledged the men with a nod.

“Detective Hottie,” Betty cooed.

He avoided Betty, instead turning his attention toward me. His crossed his arms and wide-legged stance indicated he wasn’t in the mood to play games. “Gia claims you have an item that belongs to her.”

Of course she did. Darn her.

I scowled. “First, let me tell you that I have not shoved my nose into your murder investigation.”

He stared at me, unimpressed. “Yet, you’re still here.”

“I did discover some information you might find helpful. Or maybe not. But before we get to that, may I ask you a question?”

“If I say no, will that stop you?”

I smiled. He finally understood me. “Not at all.”

“Get it over with.”

“Have you or your crew talked to the filmmaker? I find it odd that she’s not here, recording all the crazy drama. Look at MacAvoy, he can’t stay away, and he’s the noon reporter.”

“I’m a serious investigative reporter.”

I tossed him an apologetic smile. “No offense. Just stating the facts.”

Malone watched Gia and Fallon shoot daggers into each other for a second. “We were sidetracked. But no, to my knowledge, we have not talked to the filmmaker yet.”

“You should put a lookout for her,” Betty suggested. “What’s that called? A BOGO?”

“A BOLO,” Grey corrected automatically. “Be On the Look Out.”

I couldn’t decipher the expression on MacAvoy’s face, but Betty was impressed. Malone and I had to be thinking the same thing—was Grey trying to blow his cover?

Grey shrugged unapologetically. “I like cop dramas.”

“Oh, me too,” Betty agreed, excited to have someone who shared a mutual interest. “I like the dark gritty shows with the handsome cops.”

Her taste in cop shows was no surprise to any of us.

Malone changed the topic back to his original question. “Is Gia correct? Do you have an item that belongs to her?”

My grip on the bottle tightened for an instant before I reluctantly extended the potential evidence in his direction. “This.”

“We’re taking it to Dr. Darling.” Betty glared in Gia’s direction.

Malone tried to take it from my hand, but I couldn’t let go. He raised an eyebrow. “Thank you,” he deadpanned.

I release my hold. Dang, dang, dang. I wanted to take it to Daniel. I had questions that only he could answer. Like would caffeine actually make the dog run faster? If so, how much caffeine would a dog need to ingest? How much was too much caffeine for a dog?

As I had done minutes earlier, he unscrewed the cap and smelled the contents. He cast a sideways glance in my direction.

“I’m pretty sure it’s an energy drink. I saw Gia behind a tent, pouring the contents into Zippy’s special bowl. If that’s an energy drink, Lenny’s accusation, as obnoxious as he is, was accurate—the Eriksens were most likely juicing their dog. We were on our way to see Daniel.”

“In other words, they’re cheaters,” Betty spit out.

Malone recapped the bottle. “Wait here.”

He stalked away toward Gia, his boots crushed the grass, leaving behind determined footprints. He asked her a few questions. She nodded vigorously and reached for the bottle. Malone pulled it out of her reach. He called one of his uniform officers over, spouted orders as he pointed at Gia, then returned to where we waited.

“I’ll have someone deliver this to Dr. Darling,” he said as he approached.

“We’d be happy to do that for you,” I offered.

“I’d rather you find Zippy and take him to the onsite clinic so he can be tested. If this is what we think, the dog should have a complete examination.”

“The last time we saw him, he was racing toward the track. Luis and his dog, Barney, went after him. I’m not sure if they caught him or not.”

“Zippy ran like he had wings,” Betty interjected. “A true champion.”

“Or hopped up on caffeine.” Mr. TV jotted down a couple of thoughts on his notepad. “How much caffeine does it takes to affect a canine?”

Malone’s voice was tight. “This is not a formal interview. Understand?”

MacAvoy nodded and put away his notepad.

“I will make sure this reaches Dr. Darling. Anything else you want to tell me?” Malone asked me.

I tilted my head toward MacAvoy and Grey. Malone understood my unspoken request and motioned for me to follow him to an open grassy area a short distance away. I kept my back to MacAvoy, not sure if he could read lips.

I could feel three sets of curious eyes on us. I was sure they were talking about us too. Except for Grey. He’d keep his comments to himself. Hopefully he’d manage to keep Betty from jumping MacAvoy. She did like men.

“Thanks. I don’t trust the reporter,” I said.

“Keeping your enemies close?”

“Something like that.”

“That doesn’t explain why you don’t want to talk in front of your fiancé.”

I shrugged. “He’ll tell me to stay out of it.”

He actually smiled. “Sounds like good advice.”

“Do you want to know what I learned or not?”

He shrugged. “I don’t seem to have a choice. Go ahead.”

“Sven, at the Koffee Klatch, told me about a gambling ring here, behind the chili truck. When Gia was at my shop earlier today, she tried to buy out the store, which I thought was great. Until I ran her credit cards. Both were denied. She’s obviously having some type of financial issues. And by now you know all about the affair between Fallon and Richard.”

“Tell me about this rumored gambling ring.”

I ignored his request. I was on a roll. “Here’s my working theory. If the Eriksens were doping Zippy, which we now know is likely, it’s possible they could have been betting on him in order to make money. I admit, it’s a stretch, but possible. What if what Fallon said was true, Richard planned to leave his wife for Fallon? MacAvoy said Fallon told the filmmaker Richard intended to retire Zippy after this event. If he took the dog, Gia would run out of money in a hurry.”

“That’s a lot of what-ifs.” His eyes narrowed. “Let’s go back to the gambling ring. Did Sven tell you that the Eriksens were placing bets?”

My mouth disengaged long enough for me to realize that I may have gotten poor Sven into trouble. “No.”

“Did you see either of them by the chili truck?”

I shook my head, nervous the conversation wasn’t proceeding the way I’d imagined.

“Have you seen anyone placing a bet?”

I inhaled deeply, unsure how to answer his question. “Not exactly,” I hedged.

“What does that mean?”

I pushed my lips together and chose my words carefully as to not mention Betty’s new pastime. “Sven asked me to put twenty dollars on Pickles. I went to the chili truck, but Rodney, the bookie, wasn’t there.”

“You’re admitting to placing an illegal bet?”

I stumbled over my words, “No—I didn’t think—I mean.” I took a breath and started over. “I did not place a bet. But I did go to the truck to verify Sven’s story.”

“When was that?”

“Around one o’clock. Maybe a little before that.”

He was silent for a full minute as he mulled over what I’d told him. “Did Gia tell you she had money problems?”

“No, but in my retail experience, the only other time I’ve had to retain a customer’s credit card, he was bankrupt and later arrested for fraud. We both know people have killed for a lot less than that.”

We stared at Gia for a minute. She glared back at us.

“What are the odds that she or Richard owns a gun?” I asked.

“Pretty damn good. Richard bought a 9mm Beretta two years ago. He reported the firearm stolen last month.”

Hells bells.

Chapter Twenty

I WAS STILL REELING from the knowledge that Richard had owned a gun and had reported it missing. After my talk with Malone, I felt confident Gia would be uncovered as the killer, clearing Betty of all suspicion.

I returned to Grey, Betty, and Mr. TV with a spring in my step and a reassured smile on my face. They had waited exactly where I’d left them. I take that back. Not exactly as I’d left them.

Grey had drifted a few feet back from the others. His blue eyes sparked with amusement as he watched Betty hit on MacAvoy. She’d managed to link her arm with her favorite noon reporter, showing him the stains on her T-shirt and, I suspected, inadvertently her cleavage.

I felt a twinge of guilt at the pained expression on Mr. TV’s face. Leaving Betty alone with two good-looking men had been a lack of forethought on my part. I rejoined the group with an apologetic glance at MacAvoy and shrugged. Betty was Betty.

He tilted his head toward the older woman glued to his side and mouthed, “Help me.”