Till Death Do Us Bark (28 page)

He downed a bit of tea, too, then set the cup down. “Okay, I’ll get right to it. I talked about you with one of my law enforcement friends today. A guy named Mitchell Carmody.”

Ellie inhaled a gasp. “You and Captain Carmody talked—about me?”

“Look at it from my point of view.” He leaned back and crossed his arms. “You forced my hand. You’ve been getting in the way of this investigation, and I had to speak to someone who might know where I could find your ‘off’ button, before I arrested you for obstruction. Sad thing is, it didn’t work.”

Since Sam hadn’t mentioned a meeting, he had yet to hear from the captain. But there was still a chance Carmody would read him the riot act and order him to do something about his over-the-top girlfriend or—or—

“What do you mean—it didn’t work?”

“Well, it seems the captain can do nothing but sing your praises. He says every once in a while you get a wild hare, his words, not mine, and go off on your own, but basically you have a good nose for sorting things out.”

“He told you that?”

“I knew Carmody was an upstanding guy the minute he agreed to take Buddy,”
muttered Rudy.

She tapped him with the toe of her sandal. “I had no idea he felt that way about me.”

“Trust me, he does.” Jim shrugged and his biceps flexed. “But there is one thing you’re not good at.”

“And that is . . .”

“Picking up a trace. I followed you and your pal Vivian to all five restaurants and bars today. I didn’t mind it, of course. Got a chance to eat some good food, have a drink or two, even get a look at how some of the super wealthy occupy themselves while they’re on holiday.” His lips turned up at the corners. “It was the shopping that drove me nuts.”

“If you’d taken me with, like I asked, I would’a smelled him out,”
Rudy said, jumping into her lap.

She cupped her hand around his muzzle. “You’re telling me you went to the Golden Pear Café, the Bagel Bin, the American Hotel, the Corner Bar . . . and the Oasis?”

“And all your stops in between, so there’s a few things I need to know, starting with where in the hell did your friend Vivian learn to drive?”

She drummed her fingers on the table. “That’s none of your business. What else?”

“Hey, don’t get angry. I already told you I’m not going to arrest you . . . yet.”

“You have no reason to arrest me, and we both know it.” She pushed from the table, and Rudy leapt to the floor. Then she gathered the teacups, spoons, and napkins. “I’ve had a rough day. I really need to go in and get to sleep.”

“Then you’re not going to tell me what you found out when you got that waitress—Kileyanne, was it?—to talk to you?”

Ellie opened and closed her mouth. Another gust of wind blew curls into her eyes and she shook her head. Stacking the dishes and napkins in her hand, she marched to the door with Rudy following behind.

“Hey, wait. I need help with something, and if Carmody trusts you, well, that’s good enough for me.”

She turned on her heel. “You’re asking me for help?”

He stood and took a step toward her. “Don’t get excited. It’s just a small favor. I’m trying to find a PDA or maybe a notebook, anything Kent could have used to record his illegal transactions. I’ve looked in all the right places with no luck. I even talked to Ms. McCready, and so has Wheeling, but since he has a case for the killer, he doesn’t need more. I thought maybe, with you in the house, you might have seen something I missed.”

“In the library? Or his office?”

“Anywhere. Kent was a slick operator, but even he had to keep records. Nothing showed up on his personal computer, so it has to be somewhere around here.”

Ellie thought a second before answering. She could talk to Rosa, who knew the house as well as anyone, take the time to search, maybe let Rudy sniff out a clue. “I’ll see what I can do, but I’m not promising anything.”

“Fine. That’s all I ask.” He moved closer and she opened the kitchen door. “So it’s good night, then?”

“Ah, yeah.” She ducked around the door and slipped inside. Jim was giving off a vibe she planned to ignore. She had Sam, and he was the only man for her. “I’ll get back to you if I find anything.”

 

The next morning, Ellie stood near the six-burner range, gazing out the breakfast area’s bay windows. The hurricane that had developed somewhere in the mid-Atlantic over the past week had worn itself down to summer storm level overnight. Its route had bounced it off the Outer Banks, where it skirted around Virginia Beach and the eastern shore, and had made its way up the coast, hitting New Jersey, New York, and Long Island.

“I guess with all that was going on around here, we forgot to pay attention to the weather forecast,” said Viv, rearing back from her scan of the yard. “It’s a good thing this storm lost some of its punch, or we’d be getting walloped.”

“If I was home, I would have been on top of things. I usually check weather info every night before bed to make sure I’m prepared for walking the dogs the next morning.” Ellie accepted the omelet Rosa made for her and inhaled the yummy aroma of onions, tomatoes, Swiss cheese, and sausage wrapped inside fluffy eggs. “Waking up to whatever the weather brings must mean I’m really on vacation.”

She sat next to Viv and took another look out the window. Water cascaded down the panes while, farther out, the prevailing wind bent the sea grass almost to the sand. That cleared their view of the dunes and allowed a peek at the waves crashing against the shore.

On the right side of the yard, the guest cottage stood alone. If not for the three cars in the parking lot, one would think the house had been abandoned by its residents and left to the pounding of the storm. Ellie wondered how the family members inside were getting along after the past evening’s tumultuous discussion.

“What happens in the guest cottage on days like this, when they can’t make it to the house for meals?” she asked no one in particular.

“They can come up if they want. There are umbrellas, raincoats, and other foul-weather gear in the closet under the stairs,” said Viv. “But after last night, I’m sure they’ll just hunker down and stay inside until the storm passes.”

“The refrigerator is fully stocked,” said Rosa. “Ms. Vanessa has all she needs to make a good breakfast, and the freezer is filled with meals that can be thawed and heated.”

“Do you see to that as part of your housekeeping duties?” Ellie asked her. “Or does the job fall to the girls?”

“Sí
, is my job to make sure everything is prepared, but my girls, they carry it there and put the groceries away. It is one of their chores to make sure the cottage is ready for guests.”

Ellie moved closer. “Does this house have a safe, or maybe a secret drawer in one of the desks?”

Rosa cocked her head, thinking. “No safes, but I could check the desks for you. Maybe you should ask Arlene?”

“I hate to bother her. It’s just that I feel as if we’ve missed something that might help with Tomas’s case.”

“And you think this secret drawer could hold a clue?”

“I do, but I have to go out this morning to see—”

Thunder rolled, sounding too close for comfort, and Ellie jumped. When it ended with a loud
“Awwwk! It’s raining men! Awwwk!”
she knew she’d been fooled.

“Darn that bird,” muttered Vivian. “I would have sworn that noise came from Mother Nature, not a parrot.”

“He is amazing,” said Ellie, walking to the table. “Too bad he wasn’t a witness to Dr. Kent’s murder. He’d probably identify the killer with a single squawk.”

“Better still, he could be questioned. In the three weeks before the wedding, he must have heard all manner of shady stuff: arguments, love talk, drug deals—anything the doc discussed with his patients and pals.” Viv sighed. “Instead, he’s just a nutty bird.”

“Nutty is right,” Ellie agreed when Myron spouted the last comment. “I’m betting most of those passionate moans he likes to repeat were made by Adrianne and the doc’s patients, and not Arlene. Can you imagine how she must feel hearing her fiancé making love with another woman?”

The patter of paws echoed from the dining room, announcing the Boston Terriers. A few seconds later the canine trio and Arlene sauntered in, the dogs and their owner dressed in bright yellow hooded slickers and boots.

“The babies and I are taking a walk and I have extra raincoats. Do either of your guys want to go with us?”

A wave of guilt washed over Ellie. She hadn’t done much in the way of walking any dog, including her own and Mr. T, since she arrived. Maybe this was the time to show her thanks to Arlene by offering to do the job for her.

“Why don’t you let me take them? I owe you so much for allowing me to stay here with Viv.” She stood. “Really, I don’t mind.”

“But I do,”
Rudy gruffed from under the table.
“I already did my business and got soakin’ wet for it. I won’t need another out for a while.”

“You wouldn’t catch me dead dressed like those three buggy-eyed nitwits,”
said Mr. T.
“They look like four-legged bananas.”

“Don’t be silly,” Arlene continued, oblivious of the canine commentary. “I need the exercise. All I’ve been doing is sitting around feeling sorry for myself. My hope is to walk off some excess energy, which might help me concentrate on the details of Martin’s memorial.” She locked gazes with her sister. “I don’t think I can put it off any longer.”

“I hate to ask, but has he been cremated?”

“I talked to the funeral home today, and they’re taking care of it. They said the remains will be ready by tomorrow.”

“And you’ll be able to handle it?” asked Viv.

Arlene shrugged. “Ellie said holding it might be what we need to flush out the murderer, so I’ll have to. Trouble is, I’ll own his ashes when it’s over. What am I supposed to do with that kind of reminder?” She shrugged again. “Are you sure your boy doesn’t want to go out?”

Viv peeked under the table, saw T licking his privates, and
tsk
ed. “Twink is busy doing what male dogs do best. He’d hate me if I moved him now, but thanks.”

“Okay.” Arlene headed for the front of the house. “I’ll eat when I come back, Rosa. How about an egg white omelet with some veggies and a cup of fruit? Diced watermelon, peaches, bananas—anything will do.”

Rosa began the breakfast while Viv grabbed her and Ellie’s coffee cups. “I’m getting us a refill. You need anything else?”

“How about a new clue to the killer’s identity?” said Ellie, thinking ahead to the planned memorial. The McCready family expected a miracle, and she was far from living up to her promise of unveiling the killer. Why had she allowed Viv to talk her into investigating this crime?

“Hey, I just thought of somethin’,”
said a voice from below.

Ellie ducked down to face her yorkiepoo. “Yes?”

“A difference in the way people talk about him? Sorry, but I’m not following you,” she whispered.

“For instance, whenever that dopey bird does the humpin’ hamster talk or squawks out the threats, he says ‘Marty.’”
Rudy put a paw on her knee.
“But when Arlene talks about him, she calls him Martin. Don’t you think that’s odd?”

She reached down and scratched his ears. “Now that you mention it . . .” Pulling her spiral pad from her tote, she flipped pages. “Give me another example and I’ll see where it fits.”

Ellie searched her brain for Adrianne’s snotty remarks and came up with “Marty loved that self-portrait. He said it held the secret to his success.”

“People were knocking on Marty’s office door at six a.m.”

“You’ve been bragging about how you’ll find Marty’s killer.”

“Okay, so Adrianne called him Marty. I still think the chance she murdered him is slim to none.”

“Or maybe a woman’s. I don’t remember.” She flipped pages and went to all of her suspects, trying to recall how they’d referred to Dr. Kent. Rudy was right, but she’d never connected it. She’d talked to a lot of people, so who besides Adrianne had called him Marty?

Viv returned with their brimming coffee mugs and took her seat. “I know I’ve said this before, but I can’t thank you enough for helping us out, especially after you were assaulted. And then insulted by my sister. Just let me know if there’s anything you want me to do and I’ll take care of it.”

Ellie heaved a sigh. Viv acted as if finding a killer was nothing more than putting a puzzle together, which it was, only this particular box contained lots of missing pieces. She was in this difficult position because “friends helped friends” and “a promise is a promise” were codes she tried to live by.

“The best thing you can do is lend Arlene a hand in planning the memorial.”

“I can definitely do that,” said Viv, taking a sip of coffee. Then she scanned Ellie’s face. “The bruise is turning yellow around the edges. I’m no expert, but I think that means it’s healing.”

“Probably,” Ellie answered. Still flipping through her notebook, she realized there was one person she hadn’t questioned. “You know, maybe I should visit a doctor and get the diagnosis from a pro. Who knows? I may be offered a prescription for happy pills to help with the pain.”

 

Ellie searched the Hamptons’ phone directory, took down Dr. Bordowski’s address, and called the office number. A recorded voice told her that despite the storm, Dr. B was holding office hours and no appointment was necessary. After taking a shower and donning decent clothes, she borrowed a slicker from Arlene and took the BMW keys from Viv.