For Pete's Sake Read online

  FOR PETE’S SAKE

  (A Pet Psychic Mystery No. 4)

  Shannon Esposito

  Copyright © Shannon Esposito, 2016

  Published by misterio press

  Visit Shannon Esposito's official website at

  http://www.murderinparadise.com/

  Cover by Isabelle Arne

  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.

  For my sweet friend, Roxanne, who’s light we miss dearly.

  Table of Contents

  COVER

  COPYRIGHT

  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

  CHAPTER ONE

  Peter Vanek leaned on his desk, doting over the set of flattened out construction plans under his palms. They were his dream transformed into lines, shades and numbers. His eyes burned as a sudden rush of emotion overwhelmed him.

  Gratitude? Yes, gratitude. But also awe.

  He’d never cared much about money. He had a modest house for St. Pete standards, a photography business he’d built from scratch with nothing but hustle, sweat and a never-stop-learning attitude. What he did care about was his reputation, his health and saving as many animals as he could while he was on this planet. And Bianca … now that she’d said yes.

  He’d prayed for a miracle and he’d received one. Not in the way he’d expected, but still, he couldn’t deny the serendipity that would now allow him to turn this dream on paper into a concrete reality. In one moment, his life had changed. By one single coincidence. One gift dropped in his lap by the universe.

  Who knew, when he’d agreed to take the job, that it would lead to this? Miracle was too small a word.

  Did he feel guilty? Sure, a twinge maybe. But he just had to remind himself he wasn’t hurting anyone—people bring on their own pain—and so many more lives would be saved. Sometimes the ends really do justify the means.

  “Well, today is the day,” he whispered to his empty office as he carefully rolled up the plans, something he’d done a hundred times in the last two years. He checked the time on his phone, slipped it back into his slacks pocket and then strolled into the kitchen.

  “All done, kiddo?” Squatting with a grin, he gave the Yorkie puppy a quick scratch beneath the chin, then picked up the empty food bowl and rinsed it out in the sink. Finally he made his own breakfast by juicing kale, carrots and apples.

  After finishing his drink and cleaning up the juicer, he checked the time again. Light wings of excitement fluttered in his chest. The world seemed brighter. Full of possibility and hope. Time to get ready to go.

  Moving into the bedroom with the tiny brown and black puppy at his heels, he slipped into his tux jacket and checked his reflection in the bathroom mirror. It was going to be a stifling hot Florida morning—the kind that feels like you just stuck your face in an oven—much too hot to be stuffed into a tux, but he prided himself on looking professional so there wasn’t really a choice. After straightening out his bowtie, he moved to finish the last item on his to-do list—one final check of his equipment.

  “What’d you think, kiddo? About that time?” He glanced over at the puppy chasing its tiny stub of a tail in circles and chuckled. “You’re just trying your hardest to get me to keep you around, aren’t you? Here’s a secret … it just might be working.”

  On his way out of the bedroom, he stopped to look at the framed photos on his dresser. He smiled fondly at the one of him and Bianca. This was definitely shaping up to be the best year of his life.

  A light knock sounded from the front of the house.

  His gaze froze on the puppy, who’d stopped spinning and now watched him with his miniature head cocked quizzically.

  His heart began to beat like a jackhammer.

  Was this the answer to his prayers? He wasn’t a betting man, but if he was … he’d bet on yes.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Every bride wants her wedding to be perfect, a day to remember. A fairytale. But, in the case of my best friend and business partner Sylvia’s wedding, today included a missing-in-action wedding photographer and a not-so-happy mother of the bride.

  I chewed on a cuticle as I surveyed the long faces in the posh Vinoy Resort suite. There was Sylvia, me—the maid of honor—and Sylvia’s three bridesmaid cousins. We were all running out of ways to keep her from having a meltdown.

  Think, Darwin.

  Then I clapped my hands. “I know! Y’all have phone cameras so we can just take some pictures of each other until the photographer gets here.”

  I was trying unsuccessfully to stop the red hives that were creeping up Sylvia’s neck, beneath her beaded lace plunging neckline. Panic was threatening to kick off its shoes and make itself at home in her psyche.

  Sylvia moaned and dabbed the Kleenex under her eye, where a tear of frustration had slipped. Shaking her head, she twisted her engagement ring with nervous energy.

  “You don’t understand, mi amiga. My mother … I already had to beg her for her blessing and promise her we’d get our children baptized. She gave in reluctantly, but she’s still upset about us not getting married by the church. Anything that goes wrong now, she’ll take as a sign she was mistaken to give her blessing. A sign that God doesn’t actually approve and our marriage will be cursed if we go through with it.”

  I knew my mouth was hanging open. I even heard my own mother’s voice saying, “Darwin, shut your mouth before you swallow a fly.” I couldn’t move, though.

  Cursed? How can anyone look at the love between Sylvia and Landon and ever think they’d be cursed?

  This was not good. We had to do something. I hopped off of the bed and dug through my bag for my cell phone.

  “I have an idea. I’ll call Charlie and see if she can come take some photos. She was taking lessons from the wedding photographer, remember? He was teaching her how to photograph shelter dogs. She just got a new camera.”

  Sylvia actually cracked a smile. “Shelter dogs?”

  Sylvia’s three cousins, however, were not amused. They whirled in their red Vera Wang bridesmaid dresses and stared with undisguised horror. Then they converged on Sylvia like a flock of birds and began soothing her in Portuguese, comforting her with pats and shoulder squeezes while shooting me sharp, disapproving glances.

  Good job, Darwin. Way to ostracize yourself some more.

  I sighed and made the call. Luckily Charlie was close by.

  “The other photographer will be here in less than ten minutes.”

  While we waited for someone who knew what they were doing, I decided to take a few photos myself. I frame
d the women on the screen of my camera phone and clicked. I captured three unamused faces and Sylvia’s sad stare. I gave up and refilled my glass with the complementary orange juice mimosa. Breakfast of champions on your friend’s wedding day, especially when things are unraveling.

  Charlie arrived at our room fairly quickly. I barely recognized her without her usual skinny jeans and some kind of funky hat. Instead she was wearing a sky-blue sundress and white leather sandals. Her dyed-pink hair was pinned to one side with a dragonfly barrette. Charlie was the veterinarian technician student we’d hired to help us out at Darwin’s Pet Boutique back in December, during snowbird season. She had a heart of gold and had grown to be one of my favorite people on the planet. Especially at the moment.

  “Charlie! Thank the stars you’re here.” I pulled her quickly through the door and deeper into the room, introducing her to the cousins.

  She looked a bit overwhelmed as they all talked at once. Or should I say, vented their frustration all at once? Breaking free, she finally made her way to the other side of the queen-sized bed to give Sylvia a careful hug.

  “Wow, you look like you just stepped out of Bridal Magazine. That dress is to-die-for gorgeous.”

  Sylvia barely managed a thank you.

  “Hey, chin up, buttercup. I’m sure Pete has a really good reason for being late. He’s a good guy and wouldn’t stand you up like this on purpose. He’s probably on his way right now. Meanwhile, no worries. I got this.” She popped the lens cap off her fancy digital camera and moved to pull open the thick blinds, letting the soft morning light pour in. “We can get some good shots in here. Pete taught me all about utilizing natural lighting. I’ll just use a little fill flash for the shadows. If he comes, he can take over. If not, you’ll still have some first-rate photos. Promise.”

  I caught a whiff of the sweet scent of roses as she retrieved Sylvia’s giant red bouquet off the round table in the corner and brought it to her.

  “Girls, come pile in behind Sylvia on the bed. No wait.” She pointed to Sylvia’s shortest cousin. “Lizete, you go ahead and stand beside her and rest your hand on her shoulder.” She adjusted Sylvia’s dress, fanning it out in front of her until the sequins glittered in the sunlight. Then she adjusted the way we were sitting so we were angled more sideways to the camera. “Beautiful, girls.”

  I felt my own shoulders unglue themselves from my ears as I began to relax under Charlie’s guidance. Thank the stars she came so quickly. I wanted to ring that photographer’s neck for stressing Sylvia out like this. Not very professional at all.

  We spent about twenty minutes taking pictures. By the end of the session, the other girls had finally relaxed, too, even doing some silly poses. Sylvia glanced at the clock for the hundredth time. Still no sign of the photographer … or her mother, for that matter. It was getting late.

  “I’m just going to try his number again.” Sylvia picked up her cell phone. We all held our breath as she dialed and waited. Then we all exhaled with a sigh as she tossed it back onto the table with a growl of frustration. “And where is my mother?”

  “I can answer that.” Lizete held up her own cell phone. “Apparently she wasn’t feeling well, so she’s laying down in the air conditioning. My mom’s with her, and she said she’ll meet us at the Sunken Gardens in a bit.”

  “She’s been in this hotel … two doors down this whole time?” Sylvia stared at Lizete incredulously and then a small noise escaped her throat. I began to worry about her blood pressure. “This is difficult for her, I know, but she better not be creating drama on purpose.”

  Lizete shrugged and adjusted the ruffles on her strapless dress. “You know sua mãe. She said she’ll support you today so she will. Maybe not without reminding you how she really feels, though.”

  They shared a knowing look.

  “Hey, I know where Pete lives,” Charlie said, stuffing her camera into a black bag. “His studio’s in his house. It’s not too far from here. I can drive over there and see if I can find out anything.”

  “That’d be great, Charlie. It’s time for us to head down to the limo anyway.” I picked up my bag and Sylvia’s bouquet. “Everyone ready?”

  Sylvia made the sign of the cross over her chest, forced a smile and nodded. Lizete squeezed her hand. “Si, let’s go.”

  I pulled Charlie aside and whispered, “I’ll keep my phone with me. Call as soon as you know anything.”

  “Will do.”

  I could tell Sylvia’s cousins were trying to distract her from the current dilemma, chatting away in Portuguese and keeping her champagne glass filled from the bar inside the limo. But, I could also feel the waves of frustration floating around the small rectangular leather and glass space that we’d all been squashed into, along with a massive amount of dress material. It was there in Sylvia’s charcoal-lined, dark eyes every time they met mine.

  By the time the limo pulled up in front of the Sunken Gardens, I was a bit nauseous from the combination of champagne on an empty stomach and the heightened emotions. Gratefully, I scooted out of the air-conditioned limo and breathed in the humid August air. The sun was bright and there were some mumblings about the heat from the other girls, but otherwise our arrival was uneventful.

  I took Sylvia’s hands in mine as her cousins fluffed out her dress train, smoothed down some stray hairs and straightened her pearl and crystal tiara.

  “Perfeito,” several of them said in unison.

  “If that means perfect, I agree.” I smiled at Sylvia. “All right. I’m going to go check the ceremony area. Maybe the photographer just got confused, and he’s photographing the guy folk first. You okay?”

  She sucked in a shuttering breath and forced a brave smile. “Si. Thank you, Darwin. I’m sure you’re right.”

  I followed the bricked pathway down to the shaded area where some guests were already seated in the white folding chairs. Flowered tiki torches stood every third row and white tulle had been strung between them, creating the path Sylvia would take to the wooden, flower-adorned archway where Landon now stood—his German Shepherd, Mage, and three groomsmen at his side. There goes my theory that the photographer might’ve come here first.

  The guests were chatting amongst themselves and the sing song of tropical birds mingled with their voices. A multitude of sweet garden smells drifted in on the slight breeze. If I didn’t know something was wrong, I would’ve taken a moment to enjoy the peacefulness and beauty of it all.

  My sisters, Mallory and Willow, were seated in the second row. They’d arrived last night from Savannah. Next to them sat Frankie, my eccentric millionaire friend. Just seeing them here brought down my anxiety levels a notch as they were all laughing about something. Willow must’ve spotted the worry on my face, though. She stood up to give me a hug as I approached. Her long brown hair held a spicy scent, like sandalwood, and I leaned into her grounding energy.

  “What’s happened?” she asked.

  I shifted my weight, trying to relieve the pain in my toes from the unfamiliar shoes I had on. “The photographer never showed up at the Vinoy. We were hoping he was here.”

  Frankie was fanning herself with an eggplant-colored satin clutch that matched her sleeveless, eggplant-colored dress and completely clashed with her bright red hair. Somehow this worked for her, though, making her appear fashion-brave instead of fashion-challenged. Being the eternal optimist, she said, “I haven’t seen him, but I’m sure he’s on his way, sugarplum.”

  Willow and Mallory shared a silent glance.

  “Stop that,” I whispered, knowing that look meant they sensed impending disaster. “Everything’ll be fine.”

  “Whatever you say, Sis.” Mallory’s green eyes glowed as she smiled up at me smugly. Her long, auburn hair was pulled back in a French braid and the smattering of freckles across her nose were more visible in the sunlight. She was the baby at eighteen and still found life’s sticky spots entertaining. Especially when I was involved.

  “I’m sure it will.”
Willow shot her a chastising look. “Let us know if we can do anything.”

  “Thanks.” I glanced around and was surprised to see Sylvia’s mother seated in the front row. “Oh, how long has Mrs. Alvarez been here?” I asked.

  Willow followed my gaze. “She arrived right before you did. She doesn’t look very happy, does she?”

  “No, she doesn’t.” In fact, she looked pale and worried. Another elderly, petite woman was talking to her and patting her hand. The fact that she was wearing a black blazer and skirt more suited for a funeral did not go unnoticed. Not the way you want your mother to look on your wedding day. I should go let her know Sylvia and the girls are here. “I’ll be right back.”

  “Mrs. Alvarez, how are you?”

  She lifted her chin and stared at me with round dark eyes and a downturned mouth. “Eu sou quente.” She waved a hand clutching a Kleenex. “Is hot, no?”

  I smiled politely. “Yes, but at least we have some shade here in the garden.”

  “Getting married in garden,” Ms. Alvarez scowled as she wiped her upper lip with the Kleenex. “Sylvia, she should be getting married in a church, where there is God and air conditioning.”

  Oh heavens, how did I manage to give her an opening for that comment already? “Well, I just wanted to let you know Sylvia and the girls are here.”

  Luckily, Will chose that moment to leave his spot at Landon’s side and save me.

  “Don’t you clean up nicely, Detective.” I tried to stay positive as I greeted him with a quick hug, but I felt the same worry coming off of him. This was not looking good.

  Landon was also in front of me within a couple of strides, his ever-loyal German Shepherd, Mage, at his heels. Despite the groom-to-be’s crisp, polished appearance, anxiety pinched the edges of his mouth and dark eyes, and a sheen of sweat had formed above his freshly shaven lip.

  “Darwin, the photographer was supposed to be here to do the photos with the groomsmen before the ceremony started. Is he finished with the girls yet?”