Yappy Hour (10 page)

Darn! I'd burned the arf d'oeuvres.

 

Chapter Eleven

Beepo appeared at my side; he seemed to be whining about the burnt snacks.

“Thanks for the company, pal,” I said, “but I think I got this.”

In the main room, the band finished their song and I heard Evie say into the mic, “All right, ya'll, we'll take a little break and be back before you can howl.” With that, she let out a long howl that got all the dogs to join in. They were in perfect pitch with the smoke detector.

If I wasn't panicked, I'd have laughed, but as it was, I wanted to tear my hair out and stick a muzzle on the howling dogs.

I pulled the tray of burnt arf d'oeuvres and tossed them into the trash. As I fanned the alarm with a bar towel, Beepo overturned the trash and stuck his nose in it.

I let out a scream and Yolanda materialized at my side.

“Beepo, get out of there,” she scolded.

I began to reload the baking sheet with more frozen arf d'oeuvres.

“Maggie, Mrs. Clemens wants to set up now for the paw-cassos,” Yolanda said.

“Yeah, okay.” I slid the tray back into the oven.

Beepo chewed on an arf d'oeuvre, growled in distaste, and spat it out.

Apparently my cooking was not even fit for a dog.

“She wants to do the paw-cassos on the patio, of course, but…” Yolanda looked toward the door, hesitating.

I set the timer for the dogs in blankets and waited for Yolanda to get around to whatever she was hedging over.

She glanced back at me and, in dramatic whisper, said, “It is okay with DelVecchio's?”

Was I supposed to get permission? Hadn't Rachel cleared all this with the restaurant?

The Wine and Bark shared a patio with the restaurant. I couldn't imagine that she wouldn't have already discussed this with them, but knowing that my sister was so spontaneous it didn't surprise me.

I suddenly found myself grateful that Rachel wasn't here, otherwise I might have strangled her.

“Let me guess,” I said. “No one asked them?”

Yolanda offered me a tight smile. “Well, I don't know … but…”

I sighed and breezed past her back to the bar. Max was holding down the fort, pouring wine and cocktails like a pro.

“I have to go next door, Max, and talk to them about using the patio. Can you manage?”

He nodded distractedly. He seemed eager to eavesdrop on Brenda and her friend. That was one benefit to working the bar. Nothing loosened tongues faster than a few doggie-themed cocktails.

I walked out onto the patio and noticed that Bowser had followed me. “No, go back inside,” I said.

He dropped the pink plush bunny at my feet.

I stooped to pick it up, and as I did so, his teeth clamped down on it. I released the bunny and so did he. The bunny flopped to the ground.

“Ah, you want to play, huh?”

The sound of hurrying footsteps clicking on the cobblestone path alerted me to company. Abigail strutted down the path with a bright blue baby wading pool tucked under one arm and her Shih Tzu, Missy, tucked under the other.

“Maggie! I'm so glad you're out here. Can you help me with this?” She thrust the pool at me, nearly toppling me over as she rushed to pull the bar door open. “I can't wait to down a few mutt-tinis, what a day I've had!”

She disappeared inside without even so much a second glance back at me.

Who did she think was tending bar? Maybe Max was a regular helper?

I dropped the empty wading pool outside The Wine and Bark. Bowser jumped in and dropped his bunny, barking at me. I laughed as the same waiter from the night before emerged from DelVecchio's onto the shared patio. He wore his uniform, but had a windbreaker still on. He looked like he was ready to leave. He glanced at me, then at the baby pool. He frowned, but said nothing, then turned away toward the cobblestone path.

I hurried after him. “Excuse me. Do you know if Gus has approved—”

The door to The Wine and Bark opened, and Evie and the Howling Hounds, Bish and Smasher, stepped out onto the patio. Evie pulled out a cigarette holder from her jeans pocket; she selected a cigarette and Smasher leaned in to light it for her.

The waiter looked from them to me and said, “Follow me,” as he hurried back into the restaurant. “We're closed tonight,” he said by way of explanation for the empty dining room. He ushered me toward the kitchen. I'd been expecting red-checked tablecloths and used Chianti bottles with wax dripping down the sides as candleholders, but instead there were white linen tablecloths and crystal candleholders. There was even a hearth at the far side of the main dining room that looked like it doubled as a pizza oven.

This was one fancy operation.

No wonder Dan had heartburn about sharing the patio with The Wine and Bark.

The kitchen was deserted.

“I thought Gus was back here,” the waiter said. “Last night … our co-owner…” He glanced around the empty kitchen.

“I know.”

“Gus called all the staff in to let us know. We're going to be closed this week. But I thought for sure he was still here. He was going to lock up after me.” He shrugged. “You can talk to him later. I don't think the pool out there will be a problem tonight.”

“Are you looking for me?” a voice called.

“Ah, the office, of course!” the waiter said. He walked me out of the kitchen and pointed down a narrow corridor, where the men's and ladies' rooms were. Past the restrooms was a dimly lit little office.

Gus was seated at an immaculate metal desk. On the desk was a computer, a black touch-tone phone, and a small tensor lamp. Several letters and spreadsheets were lit up in the spill from the lamp. There was a plush blue loveseat across from the desk.

Gus had his hands folded behind his head, his eyes red rimmed and looking strained from sifting through the documents on the desk. He sprang to his feet when he saw me. “Maggie!”

“I'm sorry to disturb you, Gus.” I explained to him about the paw-cassos and the baby pool. While I spoke, he surreptitiously slipped the papers into a folder and quietly slipped them into the top drawer of the desk.

When I finished my explanation, he said, “It's no problem, Maggie. We're closed for the week. I gave my staff the time off. We all need to grieve.”

What had he been looking at?

I prayed it was nothing that would incriminate my sister.

*   *   *

By the time I returned to The Wine and Bark, the rehearsal was in full swing. Dogs were playing in the baby pool with chew toys and rubber duckies galore. A photographer had materialized out of nowhere and was taking multiple shots of the dogs in and out of the pool, wrapped in the Day-Glo towels with the Wine and Bark logo embroidered on them.

There was a crowd around Mrs. Clemens, clamoring for paw-cassos. There were pitchers of mutt-tinis flowing, and even the arf d'oeuvres had made it to the tables. I hustled back into the bar to the relative safety of pouring muttgaritas. Max was tapping his foot along with the Howling Hounds and swinging around bottles of gin as if he were a pro. Thankfully, he seemed happy behind the bar.

“I'm sorry to have abandoned you! I didn't think I'd take so long. You're a lifesaver.”

He waved a hand around and grinned. “You can pay me in drinks.” He picked up a cocktail that was nestled next to the cash register and held it up in a toast.

“I'm glad to see you're already paying yourself.”

“What's your poison?” he asked.

“Nothing today. I overindulged last night.”

“I don't blame you after the shock you had.” He shook his head. “It's pretty spooky to think that someone was killed right here. Right under our noses.”

A woman holding a white Pomeranian ordered a glass of pinot, and I was glad to only have to uncork the bottle and pour. My thoughts slipped back to Rachel. Could she be hiding out at Grunkly's cabin? I hadn't been there since I was a kid. There was no way his Cadillac could make the drive. I'd have to find another ride up there. And then there was the matter of my date with Brooks. I'd have to get up to Stag's Leap and then back home by afternoon. It would mean an early departure.

“Do you have a car, Max?”

Max laughed. “I wish. Don't really need one here, though. It's such a small town.”

“Yeah, I have to run an errand in the morning … I need a car.…”

At that moment, Yolanda sashayed up to the bar, cradling Beepo in her hand. Beepo was wrapped in a Wine and Bark towel, and someone had managed to put a beret on his head, making him look absolutely ridiculous.

“Maggie!” Yolanda screeched. “Everything is going smashingly well. Just divine!” She slurred, “Thank you so much for pulling it off. I had my doubts.” She leaned in close to me. “You know, after your … ehem … confession.” The last word she enunciated slowly. Certainly she was referring to my admitting that I wasn't a doggie person.

Beepo let out a string of half barks and yelps as if to agree with her.

I glanced at Max, signaling him to cut Yolanda off. He nodded and filled a tumbler full of ice water for her. She frowned upon seeing it, but gulped it down nevertheless.

Abigail joined her at the bar, her Shih Tzu, Missy, wearing a tiara this evening. She grabbed Beepo out of Yolanda's hand. “Doesn't he look like a prince with this little beret? I love it. I'm going to make them dance together. Maybe we'll have a wedding soon!” she said over her shoulder to Yolanda as she strutted toward the stage and put the dogs down together.

To her credit, Missy appeared to move her tail to the music, but Beepo was only concerned with freeing himself from the beret.

“Is it always this wild?” I asked Max.

He grimaced. “No. I must have poured a little heavy.”

“Should I pop some more snacks in the oven to sober them up?”

Shrugging, he said, “People usually go over to DelVecchio's to eat if they get too lit. But they're closed tonight, right?”

I looked out the window across the patio to the darkened restaurant. It felt so disrespectful to have a bar full of people who were happy and dancing while they were dark.

Max picked up our conversation where we'd left off. “So, you need a ride…?”

Yolanda suddenly slammed a hand down on the bar. “Did you say you needed a ride somewhere?”

I hesitated. The last thing in the world I wanted was to drive out to the country with the town busybody herself.

“You've a car, right, Yo?” Max said.

I stepped on his shoe and dug my heel into his toe. His head jerked in my direction, then he burst out laughing as he realized my dilemma.

Brenda joined us at the bar. “Yolanda, are you okay?” she asked in hushed tone.

“Why wouldn't I be okay?” Yolanda fired back, her voice cracking.

Brenda motioned Max for another cocktail, which he whipped up in short order. “Well, because I just heard about Geraldine.”

Yolanda's lips curled unnaturally into a snarl. “Oh that.” She flicked imaginary lint off her leather pants. “I don't care about that.”

“Who's Geraldine?” I asked.

“Shh,” Max warned too late.

Yolanda's nostrils flared. “Don't even say her name!”

I glanced from Max to Brenda. Brenda put an arm around Yolanda. “It's okay, honey.”

“I'm glad that her poodle is up for best in show,” Yolanda said. “I'm glad about it, really,” she insisted a little too loudly; only her expression, that of a crazy woman, gave her away.

Abigail, who couldn't see Yolanda's face, joined us from behind. “Oh me, too! I'm so excited about Geraldine. A group of us are going to Carmel in the morning to support her. You'll come, won't you, Yolanda?”

Yolanda suddenly developed an eye twitch.

An idea began to take shape. If I could convince Yolanda to take me to Stag's Leap, then I could grill her about Dan's murder. After all, she had been standing over poor Dan's dead body. Did she have a motive for wanting him dead?

“Actually, Yolanda, I have to run an important errand tomorrow … but I don't have a car … I was hoping you could give me a ride,” I said.

Max flashed me an approving glance.

Yolanda twirled a strand of her blond hair in her hand. “I'll take you wherever you want to go. It's the least thing I can do after all you've done for us. Please! I have to thank you for pulling this off.” She gestured around the bar. “And I have to tell you about next weekend. I'm going to ask a videographer to join us and also a social media consultant. She'll be tweeting real time during the auction, and then we can post the videos on the web for donations afterward.”

A videographer, social media consultant, and an auction?

Oh my lord. What had I gotten myself into?

I felt faint. Rachel had to be back for next weekend, there was no way I'd manage to pull it off by myself.

“Uh. I need to look for Rachel. My uncle mentioned she might be at his cabin—”

Yolanda's eyes grew wide. “Stag's Leap?”

I nodded.

She clapped her hands like a child. “Oh goodie! I've always wanted to go to Stag's Leap. Let's leave first thing in the morning!”

 

Chapter Twelve

Yolanda turned up at my apartment at 8:00
A.M.
sharp. She drove a flashy red convertible and leaned on the horn until I came out, not caring if she disrupted the entire sleepy neighborhood. Beepo lounged in the passenger seat, a jaunty bandana tied around his neck. He growled when he saw me.

A strand of Yolanda's blond hair escaped from under a bright polka-dotted scarf that matched her skintight skirt. She wore large gold-rimmed sunglasses and aviator gloves. All that was missing to make it a complete Hollywood scene was to have Beepo in sunglasses.

I wore regular jeans and a navy tank top. Yolanda's lip curled up slightly to match Beepo's growl upon seeing me look so plainly boring.