Till Death Do Us Bark (10 page)

“You sure you want to do that?” asked the guy.

“Not me,” squeaked Viv. “We should cooperate, Ellie. I don’t want to die.”

“There’s not a chance of that happening.” Spinning around, she faced their attacker. “Is there, Mr. Bond?”

“Mr. Bond?” Viv turned, too, and stared at their faux Agent 007. Her flashlight illuminated his chiseled face and the watch cap pulled low over his brow. “For Pete’s sake. What are you doing here?”

“That’s what I’d like to know,” Ellie demanded. Her gaze raked his dark, long-sleeved polo shirt, then dropped to his hand and—Good Lord, he
was
holding a gun. “Is that thing the real deal?”

James Bond blew out a breath. “I should have known you’d be sticking your nose in here sooner or later.” He pocketed the pistol and crossed his arms. “Didn’t the police tell you to stay away from the crime scene?”

“They told me everyone had to stay away. I assumed that meant you, too.”

“It did mean me, in a roundabout way. Now I suggest you leave and let me take care of business. Once I’m through, I won’t bother—”

“What was that?” said Viv, her voice rising.

He laid a finger on his lips. Footsteps sounded from above, then stopped. A moment later the toilet flushed and footsteps again crossed overhead.

“That has to be Dad,” whispered Viv. “He’s getting up in years, so prostate problems abound.”

“Really? I had no idea. It’s not serious, is it?”

“Nah. Mom says he’s on medication and doing—”

“Will you both please shut up,” 007 ordered, his voice low and harsh. “And get the hell out of here.”

Tired of Mr. Bond and his antics, Ellie grew bold. “Look, I don’t know what you’re doing here and I don’t care. Just go away and leave us to do our thing.”

He raised his hand and pushed aside their flashlight. “You’re being ridiculous. I’m the one with the gun, and I just might decide to use it.”

“Well, I don’t think you will.”

He focused on Viv. “Do me a favor and talk some sense into your friend. Tell her I mean business.”

Vivian smiled. “You know what? I don’t think you do. This is my sister’s house, so I have a right to know why you’re here.” She made a move for the door. “Unless . . . maybe my dad should be the one to ask that question.”

He again crossed his arms. “You two are certifiable. You know that?”

“I’ve been called crazy by better than you,” said Ellie. “We want answers and we want them now.”

Mr. Bond heaved a sigh, grabbed them each by an elbow, and steered them toward the door. On the way out, Viv stopped and wiped the doorknob. He pointed to the exit and the girls did as he indicated while he followed behind them.

 

“You actually expect us to believe you’re just a nosy neighbor wanting to take a look at a crime scene? In the middle of the night? Because you have nothing better to do?” Ellie shook her head. “That’s ridiculous.”

“You forgot the nosy-neighbor-with-a-gun part,” Viv chimed. “And you still haven’t said that you have a permit to carry that thing.”

They were gathered around the end of the dining table on the back terrace with Rudy and Mr. T at their feet. Between Viv’s flashlight and the bright moon, Ellie could read every expression on James Bond’s toohandsome face. Though he’d told several different-yetconnected stories to explain his presence in Dr. Kent’s office, she hadn’t believed any of them—a fact not lost on Viv.

“Maybe if you told the truth, we wouldn’t be so pushy,” she offered. “It’s not like we can do anything about it.”

His smile was more like a sneer. “You two are a trip. I don’t have to answer to you. And you’re right, you can’t do anything about it, because telling the cops will incriminate you as well.”

“That’s what I’m trying to say,” said Ellie. “It’s best we both keep quiet about tonight. Just clue us in on the real reason you were there.”

Running a hand over his head, he swiped off his knit cap and folded it in front of him. Then he reached into his back pocket and pulled out a wallet.

“Please don’t think about offering us a bribe,” said Viv. “Because we can’t be bought.”

“I’ve got a feeling there isn’t enough money in the world to shut the two of you up.” He flipped open the wallet. “Here, this should do it.”

Viv flicked on her flashlight and focused on the table.

Ellie stared at what appeared to be a badge tucked into one side of the wallet and an ID on the other. The circular badge had the letters DEA in the middle and a golden eagle with outstretched wings on top. On the other side was a card with a photo, but the print was too tiny to read.

“You work for the DEA?”

“I’m a special agent for the Drug Enforcement Agency. That’s my identification.”

She locked gazes with Vivian. “What do you think?”

“I haven’t a clue. Does it look like Sam’s badge?”

“Sam? Who’s Sam?” he asked.

“Her boyfriend,” said Viv.

“A detective I know,” Ellie said at the same time.

“Great. You’re a wannabe cop.”

“I am no such thing,” she huffed. “I’m just close to someone who’s a homicide detective.”

“She knows lots of someones,” Viv added. “She has friends in high places. Very high places.”

“Viv, please, give it a rest.”

“Well, you do. Your current stepfather is a retired appellate court judge, you’re dating Sam, you know Vince and that big-shot captain and—”

His gaze ping-ponged between the two of them. “What big-shot captain?”

“His name is Carmichael or something.”

“Carmody?” He turned to Ellie. “You know Mitchell Carmody personally?”

“They’re like this.” Viv crossed her fingers. “She got him a dog.”

“A dog?”

Ellie pulled Viv’s fingers down. “Vivian, this is not the time to talk about Buddy.”

“And why not? Getting him to adopt that Bichon was—”

“Not a part of this conversation.” She again focused on the badge. The DEA was an arm of the Department of Justice, a federal agency that had its hand in everything the government watched over. If James Bond was truly one of their agents, Arlene could be in real trouble. “I’ve never seen a DEA badge before. How do we know this is real?”

“I guess you’ll have to take my word for it until morning. Then you can call my superior.”

Ellie frowned. The pieces were beginning to fit together. The way Arlene and Adrianne had easy access to drugs; the remoteness of Dr. Kent’s practice; the cars coming and going in the parking lot. It all made sense now . . . sort of.

“Okay, let’s say we buy your identification story. That still doesn’t explain how you got inside the doc’s office or what you were doing there.”

He closed the wallet and tucked it away. “Dr. Kent’s been under investigation for illegally prescribing and distributing Schedule Two drugs. According to a nowarrested pharmaceutical rep who incriminated a list of others, we have evidence he also kept a stash of drugs in his office where he was doling them out like candy.” He gazed at Viv. “I had a warrant the night of the party, but I didn’t want to make a big deal out of it. I was going to present it if I was caught, but then I found Kent and—”

“My sister would have been so embarrassed, especially having her fiancé arrested. She’s been so depressed, I can’t tell her about the doc’s troubles.”

“Have you taken a good look at your sisters? I doubt either one would be embarrassed. My guess is they’re both regular users of Kent’s contraband pharmacy.”

Viv set the flashlight down and lowered her gaze. Then she looked up and brushed a tear from her cheek. “They’re not—they won’t be—”

“Arrested? That remains to be seen. I doubt they’ll do any time, but they are involved in this case, and not just them. There are pharmacies in the Hamptons under investigation, and a couple more drug reps. The whole lot of them will be hauled in, once we get our ducks in a row.”

“But the murder—”

“Screwed everything up. The first time I was in the doc’s office, I hoped to grab his computer and take a look at his records. Then I was going to bring him in for questioning. Thanks to whoever killed him, I didn’t get that far.”

“You were there trying to scan his computer for prescription records?”

“That and anything else that would help me break the case. I figured he had the info on a spreadsheet, because the amount of crap he’s suspected of doling out is mammoth. Trouble is, because of the murder the local cops have collected the goods. They told me they’d taken his computer and they were scanning it, but that doesn’t mean he didn’t have another one stashed away somewhere. They’re out to find the killer, and they have jurisdiction, but we’re playing tug-of-war with the evidence right now.”

“Who do you think killed Dr. Kent?” asked Ellie.

He leaned forward and clasped his hands on the table. “Could be any number of people. A druggie hoping for a score, one of the pharmacists he was working with demanding a bigger cut, the disgruntled parent of a kid Kent’s been supplying, even a hopped-up patient.” He sat straighter in his chair. “I’ve been tracking Kent for a couple of months now, and when I heard they were hosting a party I finagled an invite from your sister. It was supposed to be my chance to see if he and one of the guests would have an incriminating conversation. I was hoping they’d talk business at the party, private business I could use for the arrest.”

“And you don’t have a clue who might have killed him?”

“I work alone, so it’s impossible to be two places at once. When I heard your sister was expecting Kent on the terrace, I left the deck, went to the front of the house, and headed back around the grounds and the doc’s parking lot. Then I waited at the side along the stand of trees—prepared to gather what I needed from his files—”

“Gather how?”

“Never mind how.”

Ellie figured she’d worry about it later. “Get back to the murder. What happened next?”

He raised one dark eyebrow. “Quite a bit. I planned to go in through the front door as he went out the rear. Then I heard an argument, and it was a dilly. Lots of shouting and threats. Then a door slammed and it got quiet.” Jim sat back in his chair. “I slipped through the front when I heard the rear door slam. Next thing I knew Kent was arguing again. I walked to the back door and tried to hear the voice, because I thought it might be the same man, but the tone was different.”

Eyes shuttered, he placed his palms on the table. “I couldn’t intervene without blowing my cover, so I waited them out. Then I heard another voice calling for
el doctor
, a string of Spanish, and footsteps moving away. It was then I figured I’d better at least sneak a peek, so I opened the back door. That’s when I saw the body, bleeding out on the sidewalk. When I sidled over to take a look, and realized there was nothing I could do, I ducked into the bushes. Then you two showed up.”

“You could have taken off before the police arrived,” Ellie reminded him.

“And then what? All I wanted were the records—whatever he had on prescriptions and the purchases. I explained who I was when the cops got there, even told them about the arguments, and they said they’d cooperate, but they had to focus first and foremost on finding the killer.” He cocked his head. “They confiscated Kent’s phone records, calendar, and desktop computer, just about everything, but I was hoping to find something more so . . .”

“Are you willing to answer another question?” asked Ellie.

He blew out a breath. “Aw, hell, why not? You’re in the middle of it now anyway.”

“What kind of medicine did Dr. Kent practice?”

“Word on the street said he was a regular Dr. Feelgood, sort of like the physicians who took care of Anna Nicole Smith and Michael Jackson. He claimed to have the answer for a lot of troublesome conditions. Basically, he was in general practice, but advertised that he could help with depression and anxiety, work you through insomnia, assist with anger management, even cure obesity. He had a pill for every problem, same as those physicians in Beverly Hills who treat the stars.”

“And you’re not concerned with who murdered him?”

“That’s one too many questions.” He stood. “I’m heading back to the cottage to lock up and reset the security lights.”

“What about taking a look around the office?”

“Who, me? Why, I’m shocked you think I’d go against Detective Wheeling’s orders.” He slipped the watch cap back over his head. “If anyone sees me, I’m just a friendly neighbor taking a midnight stroll along the beach.” He headed for the stairs, then turned. “And by the way, finding the murderer is a job for the cops—not a cop wannabe.”

“But my sister’s the one who needs our help.” Vivian had been so quiet, Ellie almost forgot she was there. “Ellie’s solved cases harder than this one.”

Shaking his head, he raised his eyes to the starlit sky. “You’re not going to give it a rest, are you?”

“I—we—don’t care about the drugs, but Viv is concerned about her sister. If the local police are on it, we’ll be okay.”

“Just remember to stay out of their way.”

He charged down the stairs and Ellie blew out a breath. “Well, that was interesting.”

Viv held her head in her hands. “Do you think we should believe him?”

“Believe what? That he’s a special agent for the DEA?”

“Not the special agent part. That badge looked pretty official to me. I’m talking about Arlene and Adrianne, and the possibility of them being charged with drug abuse or whatever it’s called.”

Ellie knew nothing about the drug scene or the DEA’s involvement in that kind of investigation. “I have no idea, but it did sound like he knew what he was talking about. Trouble is, someone needs to talk to Arlene, make her understand what her fiancé was doing.”

“Wouldn’t the police tell her?”

“I don’t think they had a chance to. The second Wheeling said Dr. Kent had been murdered, she fell apart, ran to her room, and stayed there all night.”