The Girl With the Dachshund Tattoo (21 page)

Malone sighed. “You just can’t help yourself, can you?”

I smiled. “Not really.”

“Find Betty. I’ll have my team look for Gia.” He stalked off.

I elbowed Darby. “You heard the man. Let’s find Betty.”

Chapter Twenty-Four

“WHAT DO YOU make of all this?” Darby asked as we hustled through the park searching for Betty.

It wasn’t lost on me that recently I’d spent an inordinate amount of time looking for Betty. Seriously, what could possibly require her to disappear at the most inconvenient time? I realized there was a lot about Betty that I assumed I knew.

I readjusted my backpack. “I’ll admit, I thought there was something fishy going on. I mean, she should have been everywhere filming. I didn’t think it was because someone had killed her. This whole thing doesn’t make sense.”

“Do you think the two murders are related?”

I slid Darby a sly look. “Are you poking your nose in Malone’s investigation?”

My buddy’s face blossomed into an attractive shade of pink. “I was just curious. I know you’re thinking about it.”

I laughed in delight that I was slowly pulling kindhearted Darby to the dark side. “Gia could be the killer. She had every reason to shoot her unfaithful husband. And we know Stephanie recorded Gia’s threats.” I grimaced. “I even told Gia that the video could be used against her.”

“Her bad choices are not your fault.” Darby adjusted her messenger bag. “At least we know where Betty’s gun is.”

The whole situation with Betty’s gun was like a nightmare come to life. Why did Betty have to bring it to the race in the first place? Talk about bad choices. Sheesh. By now we’d covered the entire food area. We made our way back toward the racetrack.

“Like Malone said, that’s not necessarily good. With Stephanie dead, all Malone has is Betty’s word that Stephanie took her gun. And what if that gun was used to kill Richard and Stephanie? I’m not convinced this is good news for Betty. You’ve seen her. You can’t tell me you didn’t notice the red marks on the lower part of her neck.”

Darby shuddered. “I’m trying not to think about it. I’m scared for her.”

I was sure this whole situation stirred up unwanted memories for her. I stopped. Darby stopped next to me with a questioning gaze. I rested my hand gently on her arm. “Look, I totally understand if you need to sit this one out. I can look for Betty on my own.”

She shook her head with a great deal of determination. “No way. You helped me when I was in trouble. The least I can do is help Betty.”

I was all about paying it forward. But there was a big difference between settling the bill for the people behind you in the drive-up and purposely poking around in an active murder investigation.

We started walking again. I wondered where Gia was hiding and if she’d heard about Stephanie. Apparently, Darby was also thinking about Zippy’s owner.

“Do you think Gia left for home once she was kicked out of the competition?” she asked.

“Not a chance. She’s already proven she doesn’t handle public humiliation well,” I said, referring to her brawl with Fallon.

“Hey,” Darby gasped in surprise. “Is that Betty?”

I turned in the direction Darby had pointed. Sure enough, there was Betty in her ugly polyester slacks and oversized T-shirt sneaking off toward the street where she’d parked her Mini Cooper.

This was it. I was about to catch her in the middle of her disappearing act. “I’ll be back.”

“Wait. What are you going to do?”

“Malone said to find her. Well, we did. Now it’s time to follow her. She’s not as sneaky as the thinks she is. Besides, it’s better if I find out what she’s hiding than Judd Malone. He has no misgivings about tossing people in jail. Not even the grandmotherly type.” I sprinted toward the parking lot where I’d left the Jeep.

Darby chased after me. “Hold on. I’m coming.”

We had to run past the crime scene to reach the parking lot. I caught Malone off to the side talking to one of his officers. His head jerked in our direction as we darted past. I refused to make eye contact, worried he might order us to stop.

As soon as we reached the Jeep, I asked Darby, “Are you sure? You’re the official photographer. The big race will start soon.”

Darby opened the door and gently set her bag behind the passenger seat. “You’re wasting time with all that talking.”

A big Texas grin spread across my mouth. “I love it when you talk dirty.”

I opened my door and shoved my backpack behind my seat. We scrambled inside and slammed the doors. I yanked my cell from my pocket and tossed it into the cup holder, then shoved my key into the ignition. The engine made a sad “wrrrr” sound, refusing to start.

“Seriously? Now?” I tried again. It still wouldn’t start. I pounded the steering wheel. “Argh. What’s the deal?”

“Come on. We’ll take my car. I’m parked a couple of rows behind you.”

We jumped out of my Jeep and grabbed our bags. I followed Darby to her blue Fiesta. We piled in and fastened our seatbelts.

“Betty’s not the best driver,” I warned.

“That doesn’t surprise me,” she muttered.

Thankfully, Darby’s car started on the first try. She shifted into reverse, but the car didn’t move.

“What are you waiting for? She’s getting away.” My voice rose in frustration. I motioned toward the direction where Betty had somehow managed to hop the curb as she sped off. Lordy, she was a horrible driver.

“Over there.” Darby pointed toward a row of port-a-potties. “Is that Gia and Zippy next to the black SUV?”

Gia had changed into a pair of jeans and red halter top. Her hair was still in a ponytail, but at least she’d brushed it at some point. I wondered where she’d changed her clothes. She didn’t strike me as the type to change clothes in her vehicle.

She had her back to us. It was hard to tell for sure from where we were parked, but it looked like she was loading Zippy into his car seat. “There’s no way she’s talked to Malone yet.”

“Do you think she knows about Stephanie?”

“Honestly, I think she killed her husband. I wouldn’t put it past her to kill the one person who recorded her lashing out in anger.”

Darby’s thumbs beat out an anxious rhythm on the steering wheel. “We need to choose. Do we follow Betty or Gia?”

“Gia,” we said simultaneously.

As soon as our suspect pulled out of the parking lot, we followed. Darby’s economical sporty compact car followed Gia’s eighty-thousand-dollar Lexus SUV up Laguna Canyon Road.

“Don’t get too close,” I said in a harsh whisper.

Darby shot me a funny look. “Don’t be a backseat driver. Besides, her truck is so big, she probably can’t even see us.”

“Sorry. I’m a little caught up in the moment. Where do you think she’s headed?”

Darby chewed her bottom lip contemplating the question. “To dispose of the murder weapon.”

I blinked. “That’s entirely possible. I should call Malone.” I reached for my cell, but my pocket was empty. “Shoot. I left my phone in the Jeep. Do you have Malone’s number?”

“Why would I have his number?” Her voice rose a couple of octaves.

“Well, you’ve found almost as many dead bodies as I have. Plus you were a prime suspect in a murder investigation.”

Darby fixed me with a look that said I was two sandwiches short of picnic. “All the more reason to not have his number on speed dial. If I need to report an emergency, I’ll call 911 like everyone else.”

She had a point. I guess I had an unresolved need to solve crime.

We continued to follow Gia out of town. She hung a right on El Toro Road heading toward Laguna Hills. The brown rustic canyon slowly transformed into green trees and modern neighborhoods. Traffic was typical stop and go, but Darby never let Gia out of sight. The big SUV turned left at a mall, then sped up and cut a sharp right at a gas station and headed down a side street. Darby stayed on her tail.

“Hang back.” I reached out for Darby’s arm. “We need to keep some distance. There’s not enough traffic here.”

Darby eased up on the gas, allowing more space between us. Palm trees and security bushes lined the streets. Color-coordinated retail businesses were replaced with boring dreary warehouses.

“This is an industrial area,” Darby said.

We continued a few more blocks when she made a left. All of a sudden, we had our answer. Gia turned her giant SUV into a rental storage business. Darby drifted to the side of the road, out of sight. We watched Gia pull up to the black wrought-iron security gate. She rolled down her window, then punched a code into a keypad. The gate pulled back, granting her entrance.

“Now what?” Darby asked.

“Park. We have to climb over and go on foot.” Bless her heart, she didn’t balk at the idea of climbing the gate.

She shut off the ignition and pocketed the key. “I haven’t climbed a fence since I was a teenager.”

We got out of the car. Darby pressed the button on her key fob. The car beeped, confirming it had locked remotely.

“We’ve broken onto a boat at the Dana Point Marina, how difficult can it be to climb the fence?”

“Well, the last time, I ripped my jeans.” She flashed a self-conscious smile as we ran across the street.

I laughed. “I can’t guarantee that won’t happen again. Look, if we catch her red-handed with anything incriminating, we call Malone.”

We’d reached the fence just as a large moving truck pulled into the drive. Darby and I exchanged a “it’s-our-lucky-day” look. I waved them past us, and we quickly followed them inside the storage area.

We raced in the direction where we’d last seen Gia’s vehicle. We jogged side by side down the middle alleyway; Darby watched the left, and I watched the right. We found Gia five rows down. Darby and I were both out of breath and a sweaty mess. We hid behind a tan concrete wall.

Darby peeked around the corner.

“Do you see her?” I asked.

“Shh.” Darby slapped my leg.

Since I was taller, I peered over her head. We were looking at one of the largest units on the lot.

“How big do you think that is?” I whispered.

“Bigger than the shed my dad built in our backyard in Nebraska. And that was huge. Dad stored a riding lawn mower, snow blower, a couple of bikes, gardening supplies, and camping equipment and still had plenty of space to walk around without touching a single item.”

I frowned. “I was thinking more like actual dimensions. I’d say ten feet by twenty-five feet.”

Darby looked up at me and frowned. “I have no idea how big that is.”

Gia and Zippy were out of the SUV. Zippy was off his leash, distracted by unfamiliar smells.

“Don’t you worry, boy,” she cooed. “They won’t get away with disqualifying you. You’re a champion.”

I wished I could see her face as she repeatedly worked the combination lock.

“Why isn’t this working?” Gia shouted, yanking on the lock. “Aaarg.” She stomped her foot like a preschooler.

“Careful, princess, you’ll break a nail.” I chuckled softly. Darby shushed me again.

Gia wiped her palms on her jeans. “Damn it!” She tried again. “Six. Twenty-eight. Three.” She tugged on the lock, and it released. “Finally.”

This was it. My heart raced as the orange door rolled up. We sucked in our breath in anticipation.

“Hells bells. There’s no way you’re walking around in there.” I wasn’t sure if I was horrified or impressed.

From floor to ceiling, the unit was packed with furniture, cardboard boxes, trunks, and plastic totes. Some items were still in their store bags. If I had to make a guess, the tags were probably still attached. I was shocked. Was this why the Eriksens were broke? Not because of Richard’s therapy, but because of Gia’s shopping addictions? By the amount of possessions in the unit, she was a shopaholic hoarder. It didn’t look like she’d thrown anything away. Ever.

“Now, where did I put that?” Head down, she tossed aside one mangled box for a sturdy one. She clumsily maneuvered though the storage room, tottering over boxes and plastic bags, almost landing on an outdoor metal butterfly chair. Sadly, she had good taste. I’d happily take the huge butterfly chair off her hands.

“What do you think she’s looking for?” Darby asked in a hushed voice.

“Who knows? You’d need a treasure map to find anything in there,” I whispered.

Zippy charged deeper inside. He rooted around while Gia frantically searched. The dog ran toward the front, nose to the ground, sniffing whatever his nose could touch. Something had caught his attention. He whined as he pawed at a water-stained cardboard box toward the door, only a few feet from where Gia stood.

“What did you find, Zippy?” Gia inspected the worn box.

“Give me your cell.” I patted Darby’s shoulder.

Darby coughed up her phone without question. Unless you counted her arched eyebrows as a question. I did not.

“I think I can remember Malone’s number by the pattern.” I concentrated on the key pad, practicing what I thought the configuration could be. “I didn’t always have him programmed, you know.”

Darby wisely kept her own counsel. She returned to our surveillance project. “She’s opening the box,” she warned.

I poked my head around the corner. Gia was bent at the waist, pushing her ample rear end toward us. “There you are. I’ve been looking for you.” She straightened, then spun around, an animated smile on her bruised face.

Darby and I gasped. Gia gripped a very large handgun, which was pointed in our direction.

I ducked behind the wall, dragging my best friend with me.

“She has a gun. We’re going to die,” Darby cried.

Chapter Twenty-Five

WE SANK TO THE ground. The heat of the pavement seeped through my jeans. “I don’t think she saw us.” I said between the beats of my pounding heart.

I whipped out Darby’s phone from under my butt, and punched in the pattern I remembered.
Please be right.

“Malone.” He picked up on the first ring.

“It’s Melinda.” I didn’t bother to hide the panic from my voice. Times like this called for the man with the badge. Even if it meant the threat of a night in the pokey. “Darby and I followed Gia to a storage unit. She has a gun,” I whispered.