Dog Gone Read online

  Table of Contents

  Dog Gone (A Paws and Pose Mystery, #3)

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  DOG GONE

  (A Paws and Pose Mystery No. 3)

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  Published by misterio press

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  Visit Shannon Esposito's official website at

  murderinparadise.com

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  Copyright © Shannon Esposito, 2018

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  Cover by Dar Albert

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  Other books by Shannon Esposito:

  Faux Pas (Paws & Pose Mystery No. 1)

  High Jinx (Paws & Pose Mystery No. 2)

  Karma’s A Bitch (Pet Psychic Mystery No. 1)

  Lady Luck Runs Out (Pet Psychic Mystery No. 2)

  Silence Is Golden (Pet Psychic Mystery No. 3)

  For Pete’s Sake (Pet Psychic Mystery No. 4)

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  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the publisher.

  CHAPTER ONE

  The only thing that makes Christmas feel like Christmas in Florida—considering the balmy, seventy-degree weather in December—are the decorations. Fortunately on Moon Key—a private Gulf coast island for the insanely rich—that was covered. And by covered I mean the whole over-indulgent island would soon be covered in twinkling lights, glittering fake spray snow, giant wreaths, gold poinsettias and palm trees wrapped up like candy canes in red velvet ribbons.

  Today was the first Saturday in December. It was the day Christmas decorating elves would descend upon Moon Key mansions, beach bungalows, condos, golf courses, and the country club. In other words, the decorating madness would begin.

  “Rich people are crazy,” my friend, Lulu, mumbled, as we gathered our day’s shopping bags from the trunk of my vintage—aka old and moldy—VW Beetle. It was a gorgeous, low-humidity day, and I’d hoped a little Christmas shopping would improve Lulu’s mood, but now she just seemed depressed and tired. She’d been down in the dumps for weeks. I offered her the only thing I could, a nod of concession. She had every reason in the world to believe that, after the trauma she’d just suffered at the hands of her millionaire, psycho-ex-boyfriend.

  “Nope, I’ve got that one.” I took the oversized bag from her and pointed to her rounded belly beneath the pink, fuzzy sweater. “The doctor said no heavy lifting.”

  “You’re worse than my mother. And that’s not an easy thing to be.” She sighed, grabbing the lightest bag and hanging it off of her pinky finger while smirking at me. “Happy?”

  “Very.” A smirk was in the same family as a smile, at least.

  I led the way to the front door, through a group of Santa’s elves working hard and fast to add my boyfriend, Devon’s, beach bungalow to their finished list. One said elf—actually, a well-built man in a green uniform and elf ears—was squatting while hooking up an extension cord to a strand of lights he’d wrapped around the Bird of Paradise plants. I frowned at the decorated tropical plant. It was like throwing a cowboy hat on a city gal in a business suit. It just looked wrong.

  He glanced up as we approached and his gaze snagged on Lulu. I watched in amusement as his expression morphed from surprise to pleasure. This was the typical reaction she got from men because of her flawless brown skin, large gold-green eyes, corkscrew curls and thousand-watt smile.

  I glanced at her to see if she’d noticed. She had, though I saw her expression shift as she quickly raised her guard. I imagined her hastily adding a crocodile-filled mote to the fortress around her heart, along with various other slathering beasts waiting to tear into any man who dared to try to get close.

  The guy stood up slowly, adjusted one crooked elf-ear and held out his hand to her. “Leo. Leo Gold. And you are?”

  Lulu’s green eyes narrowed as her body stiffened. “Pregnant.”

  Poor Leo. He opened his mouth but nothing came out. “I ...” His hands spread helplessly. “Congratulations?”

  With a noise of disgust, Lulu rolled her eyes and reached for the door handle.

  “Here, let me get that for you.” Leo rushed in, trying to salvage the situation.

  She turned on him like a poked cougar. “I’m pregnant, not helpless.”

  He held up his hands in surrender, his eyes still sparkling with interest. “Got it.”

  I shook my head and, after she stormed inside, I whispered, “It’s not personal, Leo. She’s just gone through a really traumatic experience.”

  He was still staring at the doorway. His blue eyes were wide, like he’d just been hit in the face with an infatuation stick. “She’s incredible.”

  Now it was my turn to throw my hands up. Who knew getting blown off by a pregnant woman could be such a turn on. I would never understand men. “Nice ears, by the way.”

  ***

  Our two dogs, Buddha—my mostly white, seventy-pound bulldog-mix—and Petey—Devon’s brown mutt with white paws—already had their noses shoved in the shopping bags we’d piled beside the naked nine-foot fir tree in the living room.

  I breathed in its scent deeply. “Mmmmm.” It was one of my favorite smells in the world, fresh cut Christmas tree. Of course, it couldn’t be too fresh, not with all the needles it was shedding, but it was worth the mess.

  “Get your head out of there,” I chastised an over-enthusiastic Petey, as he ripped open one of the bags. “And stop drinking that water.” I nudged Buddha’s face out of the Christmas tree’s water.

  Lulu lowered herself to sit cross-legged on the Mexican tile floor and then got busy unboxing shiny red and gold bulbs.

  Clearing my throat, I decided to test the waters. “So the elf, he seemed nice ... and handsome and interested. Had that younger Elvis vibe going on.” I refrained from saying Elf-is, instead just chuckled quietly at my private joke. “You know, when he still had sparkling eyes and swiveling hips.”

  Lulu’s pale green eyes glittered at me beneath dark lashes. “Don’t even go there, Elle. I’m never getting involved with another man. Ever.” She rested a hand on her protruding belly. “It’s just me and this baby now, we don’t need anyone else.”

  “Okay. But you know you and the baby are not really alone. You have me and Devon, and Hope and Beth Anne and Violet. We’re all here for you.”

  Buddha and Petey had finished inspecting the packages and moved on to properly greeting the humans. I fended off their slobbery kisses with ear scratches.

  Lulu raised her head and looked at me full on with watery eyes. Her small shoulders slumped. With a sigh, she reached over and squeezed my hand. “I know and I do appreciate your friendship
and support. It’s the rest of my life I’m not sure how to deal with. Like having to close The Gumbo Pot because of Selene’s lawsuit. I feel so lost without my restaurant, without being able to cook for people. I don’t even know who I am right now.”

  I forced an encouraging smile. “I know it’s hard, but you’ll find your way.”

  I still couldn’t believe Selene was trying to take Lulu’s restaurant. Lulu had made a one-time error in judgment and slept with Selene’s husband, Michael, which resulted in the baby she was now carrying. Since Michael had given Lulu the money to open The Gumbo Pot years ago, Selene now wanted it back. Not that she needed the money. She mostly wanted Lulu to be as miserable as she was, after losing both her husband and her son.

  “Besides it’s only temporary,” I said, trying to stay positive. “We’ll find some way to save your restaurant, I promise.”

  “Maybe. Maybe someone will drop a million dollars in my lap for Christmas.” Glancing toward the door, and then letting her gaze fall to the gold ornament in her hand, she asked, “So what’s the deal with the Christmas elf out there anyway? Devon doesn’t decorate his own place?”

  I suppressed a grin. This was a good sign. She hadn’t closed the door on her heart forever. She just needed some time to heal. “Nope. He’s actually not allowed to.”

  She glanced up. “Not allowed? Like banned? What’d he do? Put up really ugly decorations last year?”

  “No.” I laughed, unboxing a second set of red and gold ornaments. “It’s not just him, it’s everyone. The homeowner’s association here has very strict decorating rules. There’s only one company, Gold Holiday Lights, that’s allowed to decorate Moon Key, and everyone has to have uniform decorations, no colored lights, only one animated figure, stuff like that.”

  She raised an eyebrow. “And what if someone goes all rebel and God forbid hangs up colored lights?”

  I pushed a wave of long, auburn hair out of my face. “They’ll get fined like a thousand dollars a day until they take them down.”

  Lulu was staring at me as if I’d lost my mind. Maybe I had because I suddenly felt the need to defend this decision. “It’s really because of the holiday parade boat show. It has to look good from the water, and that means coordinating decorations for the overall appearance of the island, not just individual houses. They do a big dancing lights show to music so it has to be synchronized over the whole island.”

  She shook her head and snorted. “Wait, Gold Holiday Lights? Didn’t that ... elf person outside say his last name was Gold?”

  I thought about it. “Yeah, he did, Leo Gold. He must be part of the family. You know who else is part of the family? The HOA President, Eva Gold. I’ve never met her, just heard horror stories about her temper, but apparently her brother owns Gold Holiday Lights.”

  “Well, that is a much better explanation for their island decoration monopoly than looking good for the little people in their boats.” She stroked Petey’s brown head, which was now planted firmly in her lap beneath the baby bulge, his doey eyes staring up at her with contentment.

  I wanted to tell her she was just being cynical, but she was probably right. If there was one thing I was learning, it was that it’s all about who you know in the world of uber-money. I believed the word was nepotism.

  She hung a gold ball dusted with silver glitter on the tree beside her. “So, have you decided on Devon’s Christmas present yet?”

  I frowned. “Nope.” I had no idea what I was going to get him. What do you get a millionaire who can buy himself whatever he wants? What I wanted for him more than anything in the world was for his parents’ murderers to be put behind bars. That’s the reason he’d given up his photography career, moved here to Moon Key and become a private investigator in the first place. To find out exactly what had happened the night his parents died and who was responsible.

  Changing the subject, I pointed at her belly. “I think it’s time to feed that baby lunch and I don’t mean you, Petey. We’ve got some leftover veggie pizza Devon made last night.” I pushed the box of decorations I was working on underneath the tree. “I’ll warm some up for us.”

  As I stood up, my cell phone rang. I fished it out of my bag on the way to the kitchen. It was probably Devon checking in from his secret trip to Georgia. When I’d dropped him off at the airport yesterday, he still wouldn’t tell me what he was doing. He said it was a surprise, but promised it was nothing dangerous. It probably had something to do with investigating his parents’ murders, even though he swore it didn’t.

  I checked the number. Nope, not Devon. “Hello?”

  As I opened the fridge, a soft female voice said, “Elle Pressley?”

  Not a voice I recognized. “Yes?” I pulled the tin foil off the plate of cold pizza.

  “Hi, this is Talia Hill. I was told you do private doga lessons, and I was wondering if you were available to come to my house tonight.”

  I froze. Then walked back around the counter and lowered myself onto the bar stool. I was staring at Lulu, who was staring back at me, but I wasn’t really seeing her. Mostly I was trying to process what was happening right now.

  “Miss Pressley? Are you still there?”

  I clutched the phone tighter so I wouldn’t drop it. “Yes. I’m here.”

  “Would nine o’clock be good for you?”

  “Yes. Of course. Whatever you need. I can be there. Nine o’clock.” I smashed my lips closed before I rambled on more.

  Silence, except for the sound of my heart pounding in my ears, and then she asked, “Do you need my address?”

  “No ... I ... I know where you are ... live. Don’t worry, I’m not a stalker.”

  Did that sound creepy?

  “Okay.” She chuckled softly. “See you then. Thanks.”

  She hung up. I stared at my phone. “Thank you.”

  “Elle?” Lulu was now standing in front of me, her eyes wide with worry. “What’s wrong? Is it Devon? Did something happen?”

  “Ha!” A burst of half-laughter, half-goose honking escaped my lungs, startling both of us. I grabbed my chest like I could stop my racing heart from the outside. “Oh my goddess in heaven, Lulu! Do you know who that was? That was Talia Hill! She wants me to come to her house tonight for a private doga lesson. Me! I’m going to pass out.” I leaned over and put my head between my knees.

  “What! You’re joking!”

  When I looked up, Lulu was shaking her head in disbelief, setting her shoulder-length spiral curls in motion. “The Talia Hill?”

  Sitting upright slowly, I felt my mouth stretch into a huge grin. Lulu covered her own mouth with her hands, and we screamed like two school girls.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Talia Hill! Did I know which mansion was hers? Of course I did. Everyone did. She was a celebrity among celebrities, a star above every other. The most celebrated actress of our time. A recluse who came to Moon Key at different times of the year but barely gave anyone a glimpse of herself.

  There was a rumor at the Pampered Pup Resort and Spa, where I taught doga (doggie-yoga) classes, that she’d arrived for Christmas early this year, but no one had spotted her yet. Rita Howell, the manager at Pampered Pup, kept us all on high alert, making sure the facilities were spotless in case she decided to bring her dog in, and reminding everyone to treat her like a person and not pester her for an autograph. She was a huge fan. I imagine she’d break her own rule, if Talia ever did show up there, and be the first one in her face with a pen and paper. Or maybe she’d just have her sign her arm and then get it permanently tattooed. Like I said, big fan.

  I glanced at Buddha strapped in the seat beside me. His eyes were half-closed. I’m sure he was wondering why I was dragging him out during the time he and Petey were usually taking their pre-bedtime nap.

  I sighed at his indifference. “Do you know where we’re going? We’re going to meet Talia Hill!” I still couldn’t believe it. Breathe, Elle. Don’t act like a freak. I checked my neck in the mirror for hives. So
far, so good. “Okay, some ground rules, Buddha. No peeing on her bushes. No eating her décor or slobbering on her furniture or chasing her cat if she has one.” She seemed like she could have a cat, too. “And please stop Mommy if I blather on like this in front of her.”

  I took three deep breaths. One wasn’t going to cut it.

  Get a grip, Elle. She’s a person, just like you.

  No, no she’s not.

  I shook my head and felt my pulse rise. She’s a goddess. A legend. She probably eats light and air for breakfast. She probably wakes up in the morning with her hair and makeup perfectly in place, with birds singing at her window in celebration that she’s in the world.

  Her Christmas lights were partially up. While they did turn her mansion into a miniature version of the Disney castle, that wasn’t why I stopped the Jeep abruptly in front of the driveway.

  “Whoa, look at that, Buddha.”

  At the sound of his name, Buddha glanced at me.

  “No, out there.” I pointed and we stared up at the enormous glass figure of a terrier sitting with a happy grin, all lit up with twinkling blue and white lights from the inside. It had a red satin collar with a giant gold nametag that said “Holly.”

  “Holy puppy. That thing must be what ... eight feet tall? Definitely not HOA approved.” I grinned. I liked this woman already.

  With my yoga bag slung over my shoulder, my heart flinging itself against my chest and Buddha panting at my side, I walked up the driveway. The queen-of-the-silver-screen’s part-time home was a professionally landscaped, two-story Mediterranean U-shaped mansion, with at least five visible rod-iron balconies.

  As I climbed the semicircle marble steps, I spotted the place where the decorating elves had stopped for the night. I knocked on the iron and etched-glass door lightly at first, then a bit harder. It opened and a petite, almost transparent woman stood there in flannel pajamas, mascara smeared beneath her eyes.

  Did I have the wrong mansion? Was this really Talia Hill, silver-screen goddess?

  I gaped at her, stunned by how different—and tiny—she was compared to her commanding screen presence. If I breathed too hard on this woman, she’d blow away like silvery ash. Also, she looked like someone had just crushed her world. Her blue eyes held the sorrow of a million break-ups. Did something just happen?