Howl Deadly (24 page)

Something else to worry about.

Even so, I pressed on.

“So here’s the thing, Mr. Callaway. I know you’ve worked your way up to be an assistant to the director of one of the bureaus within the Office of Justice Procedures. Sounds impressive. But I’m aware of your work some years ago within the DOJ with Dante, Brody, and Jon Doe.” Well, okay, I was guessing here. “In the investigation of Jon Doe’s death, Dante and Brody have been the subject of some interrogation. I’m certain of their innocence”—I hoped—“and I want to rule out any possible connection with their employment all those years ago. Can you help me?”

“No,” he spit into my ear. Good thing he was so far away. “I can’t. Goodbye, Ms . . . Ballantyne, was it?”

“Yes, it was. And I just want to warn you, then, that if I don’t get cooperation from you, I have a very good friend who’ll cooperate with me. She’s a TV tabloid reporter, and quite excellent at digging out details of anything juicy she gets her claws into. Researching Jon Doe’s background, with the information I’ll be able to give her, should make her salivate. I’ll put her in touch with you soon. Goodbye, Mr. Callaway.”

“Wait!” he all but shouted, which told me volumes. He wasn’t exactly acknowledging that what I’d implied was true, but he clearly wasn’t denying it, either. “Look, Ms. Ballantyne. You’re correct. I do work for the Department of Justice, and I stress the ‘justice’ part of that. If you believe that Mr. DeFrancisco and Mr. Avilla—both of whom are well-known people—are being unjustly accused of something, I’m willing to help. As it turns out, I have a trip scheduled to Los Angeles tomorrow. Is that where you’re calling from?”

So he did have caller ID. My 818 phone number was a giveaway.

“Nearby,” I said. I resisted a dig about what a coincidence this was, since I was certain it was anything but. He had good reason to talk to me in person.

Which meant I’d better bring along a bodyguard or two.

“Fine, then. Can we meet at about . . . say, two o’clock in the afternoon? I’ll find us an office to meet in at the federal courthouse there.”

“Sounds good,” I said. “See you tomorrow.” Assuming I lived that long.

 

 

I MADE A couple of additional quick calls. Then I ran to find Dante.

I located Brody and him near the mountain lion lair, both talking to a couple of the groundskeepers. I gathered from body language that the discussion wasn’t especially productive. I motioned Dante aside, then told him I’d been on the phone.

Oh, no, I wasn’t about to tell him whom I’d been talking to, or why. I acted admirably frantic when I asserted a pet-sitting emergency. I asked that he drop me back at the cabin so I could get my car as soon as possible. I had to head back to L.A. immediately with Lexie.

With everything going on around him, and the concern he must be feeling about having to face the cops again this afternoon, I nearly melted at the look of absolute concern on his gorgeously sexy face as he stared into mine. “Anything I can do, Kendra? Is everyone okay? What kind of pet-sitting problem?”

I put my arms around him and held him tight so he wouldn’t see my regretful expression as I lied. “It’ll be okay once I’m there. I just have a scheduling problem without enough backup, so I need to do it myself.”

“Oh. Okay.” I felt his mouth moving my hair, and sighed.

“I wish I could be here as moral support, at least, when you see Frank Hura again,” I said, “but I called Esther to make sure she’s on her way. Martin Skull, too, for Brody.” Martin Skull was another excellent criminal attorney whom I often recommended when there were two murder suspects I was attempting to help who had interests that could diverge. I’d mentioned him to Brody, who’d gone ahead and hired him.

“I’ll let you know how it goes,” he told me. “Unless I’m in custody and can’t use a phone. If so, I’ll tell Esther to keep in touch about me.”

“Oh, Dante,” I said sadly. “I wish I could do something to make this all go away for you.” And as it stood, what I
was
doing might only increase my own suspicions about him. But if all went well, I’d wind up with others I could point at with actual evidence. That’s absolutely what I hoped.

 

 

 

SEVERAL HOURS LATER, Lexie and I were back in L.A. Dante had taken me to get my car, and my pup and I got on the road immediately. I kept a close eye on everything around me, considering the threats I’d received, but saw nothing at all untoward. And maybe, by leaving the area of HotWildlife, I was easing someone’s concerns about me enough to take away the danger.

I wasn’t counting on that, though.

It was late afternoon by the time we arrived. I’d spoken with Rachel and Wanda on the way, and we’d arranged for me to take back about half of my usual pet-sitting contingent that evening. That way, I wouldn’t have been entirely lying to Dante.

At my office, Lexie on a leash at my side, I was greeted eagerly, as always, by perky Mignon at the reception desk. “Oh, Kendra, I’m so glad you’re here,” she chirped in her shrill voice, her head bobbing a nod that bounced her curly hair. “You’ve gotten phone messages from Alice Corcorian. I knew you were really busy, so I passed them on to Borden. I hope that’s okay.”

“Perfect,” I reassured her. The place hummed with activity as Lexie and I headed down the corridor to my office. I left her in there with a bowl of water, then went to the biggest corner office—Borden’s.

I knocked on his open door, and my dear, thin partner grinned as he looked up. “Kendra! I didn’t expect you. But it’s wonderful to see you, and such great timing. I’m off to meet with Alice Corcorian and Ellis. Care to come?”

Of course, I did. I got Mignon to mind Lexie, whom I left in my office. And I knew Borden meant business, since his usual aloha shirt was white on white today, and he wore a navy jacket over it.

Ellis Corcorian still practiced law with my former firm, which was now just Marden & Sergement. It was located in downtown L.A., and I felt as if I was coming home—not.

Even so, there were plenty of people around whom I remembered as being nice to me. I popped my head into Avvie Milton’s office and gave her a brief hello. We couldn’t talk then, but her smile and wink suggested she’d been offered the job she’d interviewed for. I gave her a high five and exited to say hi to both Marden and Sergement. But I didn’t have time to fuss around with them. Neither did Borden. He was welcomed back with less exuberance, since he had walked off with a lot of the firm’s clients when he had opened a practice of his own.

We were told that our clients had just arrived, so we headed back to the reception area, where Alice Corcorian and her young fiancé, Roberto Guildon, were waiting.

“We did as you told us, since we’re here on official business,” Alice said after hugging Borden and me. “We refused to go into Ellis’s office until you accompanied us as our legal representatives.” The lovely middle-aged lady looked affluent and elegant in her tailored silver suit. Roberto was clad more conservatively in black, with a red tie.

I’d asked Borden, on the way there, what the meeting was about. And when he conveyed what our client intended, I’d been full of grins. Alice had absolutely heeded my advice—and how!

Even so, I took all three of them aside so the receptionist and others in the area couldn’t hear us. “Here’s what Borden said you want to propose to get Ellis to back down from his opposition to your marriage.” And then I laid it out as I understood it.

“Exactly,” Roberto said. He was the one who’d be most affected by the answer, and I smiled at him.

Even so . . . “You should have your own lawyer to represent your rights at this kind of a meeting,” I admonished. “Borden and I were both hired by your fiancée.”

“No way,” he said. “I know what I’m doing. And what it means to my future. But my intent was never to go after Alice’s money—only Alice.” The look that passed between them was so loving that I sighed and smiled all over again.

Which was when Ellis Corcorian appeared in a doorway. “Come on in,” he said, and gave his mother a kiss on the cheek before leading us down the hall.

His office was pretty much as I remembered—standard smooth and successful attorney. We settled down in a pleasant conversation area and a secretary brought us each coffee. Then Ellis said, “You called this meeting, Mother. What’s up?” Despite speaking to Alice, he aimed a suspicious glare toward Roberto from beneath his mousy brown brows.

“If I could treat you like the child you were, the way you’re treating me,” Alice began, utterly calmly despite her son’s pursed lips, “I’d do that. But I’m perfectly sane, and my mind is as sound as it ever was—although I admit to having occasional senior moments. Then again,” she said, keeping her son from speaking through his now open mouth, “I’ve seen you forget a word you’re looking for now and then. But we’re having this meeting because Kendra told me about your discussion with her a few days ago. She confirmed, as I suspected, that one of the reasons you’re so concerned about my marrying Roberto is that you think he’s only out for my money. And maybe that’s a bit selfish on your part, if you’re thinking way ahead about what you might wind up not inheriting.”

Ellis shot an irritated glare around, not singling anyone out, not even me. “That’s not the point. I’m successful in my own right, and your money is yours to squander or will away. But I’m concerned about you, and—”

“No need to worry,” Alice said, “but here’s the deal. I’m going to keep control of all my assets while I’m alive, but I’m willing to hire a business manager who can keep track and ensure I’m not squandering it, as you put it. One thing I intend is to produce a film in which Roberto will star, but we’ll get other backers as well, once we find the right property. My monetary input will have a cap. And Roberto is insisting that we have a prenup that ensures he walks away with very little if we divorce—which won’t happen—and an estate plan that expressly limits his inheritance.”

“I’m marrying your mom for love,” Roberto explained to a dubious-faced Ellis. “And I intend to be a successful actor. That’s the only way I intend to rely on her at all—for instructing me and introducing me to appropriate film industry big shots. And her believing in me enough to produce that film she’s talking about— awesome! I intend for it to be a huge success. One day soon I want to support her, instead of the other way around.”

“You lawyers can come up with the paperwork.” Alice gestured gracefully toward her son, Borden, and me. “Do we now have an understanding, Ellis? I’d love to invite you to our wedding, after all.”

Ellis rose. I couldn’t quite read the expression on his face as he approached his mother, but I watched with interest as he bent down and hugged her. “Guess we have a deal in concept, at least, Mom. As long as that film and its expenses aren’t over the top. And as long as you let me walk you down the aisle. Roberto, I’ll reserve judgment about you till I see how this works out . . . but I’m not going to stand in the way of your marriage.” He held out his hand, and the two men shook.

A while later, in the car on the way to our law office, Borden was all smiles. “Guess you really have the hang of elder law,” he said, “not just animal-related things. Alice told me that this solution was based on your suggestion that she determine how to divvy things up. This time your ADR was truly human alternative dispute resolution, and I’m proud of you.”

I beamed. But I also wondered how the next meeting I anticipated would go . . . and I was certain it wouldn’t be either so cordial or so smooth.

 

 

 

I WAS ABSOLUTELY delighted, that evening, to have the opportunity to do my own pet-sitting. Sure, I still liked the practice of law and was mightily pleased with the results I’d helped to achieve earlier that day.

But there was nothing like popping into a house where there was a lonely pet, playing with an exuberant dog and taking him for a walk, or laughing at the sometimes friendly foibles of an arrogant cat or two.

The latter was what I faced at Harold Reddingham’s house when his kitties, Abra and Cadabra, came nearly to the door to see who was there, then waved their tails airily as I followed them to the kitchen to change their litter box and feed them. And talk to them. We were old buddies by now.

And then I visited Piglet, Fran Korwald’s adorable pug, who wanted all kinds of attention with her mama out of town.

Then there was Beauty, the beautiful—of course—golden retriever who eagerly took me for a brisk walk. And Widget, the terrier mix, who took me for a brisk run.

Loved ’em all. And also loved that Lexie was waiting for me at home in the company of Beggar, my assistant Rachel’s dog, while Rachel herself was finishing up her own evening’s sitting.

This ended up being a pretty good day.

Until I got a call from Dante at its end, nearly ten o’clock—which should, in other circumstances, have made it end even better.

“We’re still in San Bernardino,” he said softly. His throat was clearly sore. “Back at my place. Not under arrest, at least not yet, but we have to go back tomorrow. Esther and Martin are staying here overnight in my guest rooms. How was your pet-sitting emergency?”

“Under control for now,” I said, even sorrier now that I was lying to him. And I had no real idea how tomorrow would go for either of us, as I wished him as good a night as possible and held the phone in my hand for a minute longer than I needed to before hanging up.

 

 

I’D HAVE LOVED to have Dante and Brody along as bodyguards at my meeting the next afternoon. But I’d checked, and they were still being detained by Sergeant Frank Hura in San Bernardino.

So, I had to resort to another, perhaps even better, resource: Jeff Hubbard. Jeff was officially in the security business, unlike Dante and Brody, who might have been in something similar in their earlier days, but who knew? Plus, since Jeff wanted me back, he was more than cooperative—although I still made it clear I wasn’t interested in renewing our relationship. Instead, I’d arranged to pay him to be my bodyguard for the day.