Till Death Do Us Bark (3 page)

She gazed down at her questioning canine. When she’d gone to pick out a dog from a local shelter after the demise of her marriage, she had gotten the surprise of her life to realize that she could communicate with the yorkiepoo. He was the reincarnation of the dog she’d been devastated to lose ten years earlier. “I thought I’d bring you and T to the dog area, so you could meet the resident Boston Terriers and get a drink of water.”

“Now, T, from what I’ve read, Boston Terriers are friendly and intelligent. I thought you had a change of heart and decided to be nice to your fellow canines.”

Julio took that moment to enter the house loaded down with Viv’s Louis Vuitton luggage and Ellie’s single large black wheeler. “Why you no go up?” he asked, dropping the bags on the tile.

“I think it’s better if I get the dogs settled first.”

The houseman grinned. “Ah,
sí
,
sí.
The pen is through there.” He pointed to the dining room. “Find my Rosa. She will show you the way.” He slung a travel bag over his shoulder, tucked a smaller case under his arm, lifted the two largest pieces, one in each hand, and headed up the stairs.

Impressed by the man’s strength, Ellie smiled. According to Viv, Julio, Rosa, and their girls were Arlene’s friends as well as her housekeepers. She’d even gone to the trouble of hiring extra help for the big day so they wouldn’t be overtaxed by the guests.

She headed into the dining room to find Rosa. If everyone actually brought a dog, the weekend could erupt into canine chaos. She only hoped that when people discovered her profession, they wouldn’t expect her to take control of any badly behaved dogs.

This was her vacation.

 

A few hours later, armed with a glass of white wine, Ellie sat people-watching in a far corner of the enormous terrace. Viv had introduced her parents, Evan and Vanessa McCready, and Adrianne, the middle sister, a short while ago, and Viv was now making the rounds greeting family. Ellie, on the other hand, enjoyed hanging back and observing her fellow man. And with this group, there was a lot to observe.

First off, unless she counted her mother’s over-the-top Sunday brunches, she’d never been in the presence of so much Armani, Versace, or Elie Saab. Even Vivian had been impressed, and happy she’d had the good sense to arrive with the entire Ralph Lauren summer collection.

Unless she let Viv take her in hand to shop, Ellie wore regular clothes from regular stores, and didn’t care a whit if anyone thought her out of fashion. Thanks to her mom’s and Viv’s lectures, she recognized many of the “in” designers, and she was smart enough to know that bell-bottoms, button-down oxford shirts, and Crocs were passé. Wearing comfortable clothes that complemented her curvy figure was all that mattered.

Viv hadn’t let Ellie down. She’d been her usual honest and sharp-witted self throughout the evening, including making a joke out of the McCready clan’s perpetual name-dropping and flaunting of wealth. As for Arlene, instead of posturing, she’d been acting more like a bumblebee on speed. Wearing a yellow ruffled top à la Donna Karan, tight black leggings, and a pair of Kadreyas, one of the newest Christian Louboutin summer styles, with four-inch heels, she’d flitted from group to group, giving air kisses, shouting to Julio and Rosa, and running herd on the hired help. She’d even gushed over her three Boston Terriers, the only dogs allowed on the terrace for the party.

Arlene referred to this part of the night as the “family hour,” which meant the twelve or so guests present were those staying on the property. The real party was supposed to start with the arrival of the several dozen friends housed at Montauk Manor, but that wouldn’t happen for another half hour.

Looking for Vivian, Ellie scanned the crowd. She’d met Scott and Miriam, Viv’s aunt and uncle, and their adult children, Christian and Faith, a cousin Denise from somewhere on the family tree, and a group of four, each of whose first name started with the letter R, from Evan’s side of the family. No way could she keep them straight.

She’d only met two people who claimed to be personal friends of the soon-to-be-groom. One was a tall, rawboned woman named Sabrina Bordowski. She was attractive, in a frigid sort of way, and she insisted on being called Dr. B. Her companion was a heavyset older man resembling a bulldog in both size and temperament, who’d been introduced as Martin Kent’s uncle Mickey.

Still searching, she spotted a good-looking guy standing in the opposite corner of the terrace. She had yet to meet him, but he was alone, just like her, and he seemed to be people-watching as well.
Strange
, she thought,
he’s too attractive to be here alone.
Who was he and why hadn’t Viv filled her in?

When their eyes met, the mystery man smiled and raised his glass, and heat inched from Ellie’s chest to her cheeks. Great, he probably thought she was interested in him, but she wasn’t, at least not in
that
way. The living arrangement she and Sam shared was working out fine, thank you very much, and Sam had high marks in the hunk department, too. Still, something about this guy set off warning bells in her brain.

She finally located Vivian talking with two older women, and focused on them instead of the stranger. A moment later, Viv was leading the ladies toward her.

“You are not going to believe this,” said Viv when she arrived with the women. “These are my aunts, Elsie and Connie.” She cocked her head. “Well, they’re sort of my aunts. Elsie was married to my father’s stepbrother, who died about ten years ago, and Connie is her sister, so we’re related somehow . . . and maybe removed a few times? They’re in a room down the hall from us.”

Ellie smiled at the beaming ladies. “I’m Ellie Engleman. It’s nice to meet you.”

“I’m Elsie Hogarth.” The shorter, dark-haired woman spoke first. “Went back to my maiden name after I lost the mister. I had no idea I’d get to meet you here.”

Ellie searched her brain. She’d heard the name before, but not from Viv. So where?

They shook hands and Elsie continued. “I’m caretaker for a tiny white Poodle named Coco, and the two of us live in the Davenport with my sister, Connie, and her Jack-a-Bee, Greta.”

Coco? The Davenport?
Ah, now she remembered.

“I think Randall mentioned you last summer. Your Coco received a bundle in a will, correct?”

“That’s right. I guess Viv didn’t think to mention me.” Elsie gave her “almost” niece a pointed look. “We sort of lost touch over the past few years.”

Vivian locked gazes with Ellie. “Mother never told me about Elsie’s position as Coco’s guardian,” she said, pleading her case. “If I’d known I would have introduced you last summer when Rudy got his inheritance.” After taking a sip of her merlot, she grinned at the women. “Now that I know how close you both are, I’ll drop in to see you whenever you want company.”

“I’m Connie Whipple,” the other sister broke in, shaking Ellie’s hand. “Just moved here from North Carolina. When I lost my husband, Elsie was kind enough to offer Greta and me a home. We heard you were a dog walker.”

“I’ve been meaning to ask Randall about you,” added Elsie. “Now that there are two dogs in the apartment, Connie and I could use a professional walker.”

Getting good vibes from both women, Ellie decided not to give the I’m-on-vacation excuse she had planned to use if anyone asked her to look after their dog. “How about if I stop in to see you after I return home? We can talk about my rate and the time I’m scheduled to do runs at your building then.”

“We’d love it,” said Connie, a smile crinkling her face. “Greta’s a Jack Russell–Beagle mix, and she’s only three, so she’s full of energy, and sometimes . . . well, you’ll see.”

“Don’t worry,” Ellie assured her. “Vivian has a Jack Russell, and he’s a bit on the wild side, too. My dog and I get along with him just fine.”

Arlene took that moment to join them. After giving the aunts a nod, she clutched Viv’s hand. “You’ve got to help me. I’ve looked everywhere, and I can’t find Martin.”

When Arlene mentioned her fiancé, Vivian set her empty wineglass on a passing waiter’s tray and put her free hand on a hip. “I’d be happy to help, Arlene, but you’re forgetting something. I have yet to meet the man. I thought you’d been hiding him somewhere for a big unveiling.”

“Hiding him? Of course not. He’s been with patients all afternoon. He gets so involved in caring for them he sometimes forgets to come up for dinner. I sent Julio to get him at least twenty minutes ago.” She huffed out a breath. “And where did Mickey go? If that man went to the cottage and corralled him into talking about business, I’m going to pitch a fit.” She scanned the terrace. “And Dr. B? Where the hell is everyone?”

Ellie gazed over the crowd and saw why Arlene might be concerned. The bulldoggish Mickey appeared to be missing, and it sounded as if he was a business acquaintance—not a real uncle. But who in the heck was Dr. B, that Arlene thought she was so important?

Arlene stomped her foot. “This is crazy. It’s our night to celebrate, and he’s supposed to be here.” She heaved another sigh. “And his so-called close friends, too.”

“Maybe he got cold feet after he met some of your family,” teased Viv. “Just remember, you can’t blame me.”

Arlene missed the humor in her baby sister’s statement. “Something must have happened to him, but I can’t imagine what.” Spinning in a circle, she broke out in a full-fledged dither. “Julio! Julio! Oh, where is that man?”

Mimicking Arlene’s voice to a T, a large parrot who’d been tucked in a corner near Ellie burst into the fray by flapping his wings and wagging his head. Ellie had noticed him earlier. She’d watched his beady eyes follow folks as they passed, and kept to herself. Birds were not high on her list of animal favorites, and she hadn’t wanted to rouse his curiosity, so she’d kept her fingers to herself and ignored him.

The guests laughed, but Arlene began to wring her hands and pace. “I’m going to send a few of the catering staff out to look for the four of them. How can we have a prewedding celebration when the groom, the best man, and the head of the hired help are missing?”

“Oh, hush, Myron,” Arlene admonished. Flapping her arms much like the parrot, she tottered off on her stilettos talking to anyone in her path.

“I don’t know how Arlene lives with that crazy bird imitating everything she says.” Viv gave the parrot the evil eye.

“I was meaning to ask,” Ellie began. “What’s up with him?”

“Myron is an African gray that Arlene rescued from a pet store that was closing after the first Myron died. She said he kept her company while she grieved, but I don’t understand how. All the idiot does is imitate whatever he overhears.”

“Sounds kind of spooky, if you ask me,” said Ellie. “Whose voice was that just now asking for his share?”

“Beats me, but the parrot’s been living in the doctor’s office while the interior of the house was being painted. She probably should have left him in there until this whole affair was over.” Viv shook her head. “I’m starving. I hope the other guests arrive soon so we can eat. And Dr. Kent, too. I can’t imagine where he’s been hiding.”

Ellie had snacked on a dozen delicious canapés, so she was fine in the food department, but it did appear the other guests were getting restless. When she glanced across the terrace and no longer saw “hunky guy,” she thought to take her friend’s mind off eating by questioning her about the stranger.

“I’ve met just about everyone, but what’s up with the tall, dark-haired man who was standing alone in the opposite corner a while ago? No one introduced us.”

“I wish I knew, but I have no idea who he is, either,” said Viv. “I thought he might belong to Dr. Kent’s family, since he’s not a part of mine, but Arlene’s already told us who’s here from Dr. Kent’s side.”

“I’m sure we’ll find out before the weekend is over.” Ellie gave her wineglass to another waiter. “I’m going to check on Rudy for a minute. You want to come to the pen and see Mr. T?”

“Okay, sure. Lead the way.”

They took the stairs down to the lawn and searched for Rosa’s teenage daughter, Maria, who was supposed to be supervising the canines, but she was nowhere to be found. Ellie opened the gate, walked to her boy, and stooped to ruffle his ears. “Hey, how are things going?”

“Boring, boring, boring,”
Rudy gruffed.
“That Yorkie is a pain in the behind, and so is some Jack-a-Bee named Greta. T and those Boston Terriers do not get along, so it’s a good thing nutty Arlene brought them upstairs. It’s been quiet since they left.”

Ellie looked to her right, where Viv was giving Twink a belly rub. “He looks fine now.”

“I’m not sure, but I’ll find out. Right now our hostess is in distress. Seems she can’t find her fiancé.”

A round of shouts, not Arlene’s or Myron’s, broke out and Ellie stood. Glancing across the yard, she saw a man wearing a catering jacket running toward the house from the guest cottage.

“El doctor está muerto!
Help!
El está muerto!”