For Pete's Sake Page 7

  A tall woman with chestnut-colored skin, wearing a gold, cut out one-piece swimsuit approached us. “Daisy! Haven’t seen you in ages, love.” The two women air-kissed. “Where you been hidin’ yourself?”

  “Just busy, Malaika.” She turned to me, smiling once again. “This is my new friend, Darwin. She co-owns Darwin’s Pet Boutique on Beach Drive.”

  I shook her hand. “Nice to meet you. We were just talking about Peter Vanek, how tragic it was to lose such a talent. Did you use him?”

  A long, thin hand moved to her chest as her hazel eyes softened. “Yes, I sure did. I can’t believe he’s gone.” She surveyed the crowd beneath thick, false lashes. “I guess Margie Bealle is going to get some new clients now.” Then she leaned in closer to Daisy. “Speaking of, you have her cell number, right?”

  Daisy gave her a chastising look, but she held out her hand and let Malaika drop her cell phone into her palm. As she entered Margie’s information, I wondered if a sudden windfall of clients would be motive for murder?

  “Daisy, would you mind if I got Margie Bealle’s number from you, too?” I dug in my bag for my own cell phone. “I have a friend who’d planned on using Peter for her wedding, and now she’s stuck without a photographer.”

  “Oh, I don’t think she shoots weddings.” Daisy shrugged and then accepted my phone. “But I guess it wouldn’t hurt to ask her. I could be wrong.”

  As she handed me back the phone, I stepped closer to both of them. Time to see their reactions. “You know, I heard the police are starting to suspect Peter didn’t actually have a heart attack.”

  Daisy and Malaika both stared at me, wide-eyed.

  Malaika moved her hand to her throat. Then she blinked and swallowed. “What do they think happened to him?”

  “They think it’s actually lookin’ more like a robbery gone wrong or … murder.”

  They both would have to be world-class actresses to fake the shocked expressions they now wore.

  *****

  I was exhausted by the time I walked into the townhouse that evening. The lights were all on, and Mallory popped up from behind the sofa. Lucky turned to stare at me with a chirp from her queenly position on top of the sofa, her tail flicking in irritation.

  I dropped my straw bag on the kitchen counter and scratched Goldie’s chin as she greeted me with her usual enthusiasm and then walked over to give Lucky a chin scratch, too. “What is your crazy mama doin’ on the floor, Lucky?”

  Mallory pushed herself up. Blowing her hair out of her face, she rested her hands on her hips. “We’re searchin’ for Petey.”

  My heart skipped. “What do you mean? He’s gone?”

  Willow came down the stairs. “Not gone. He has to be here somewhere.”

  I moved into the living room and stared at the French doors. “Y’all didn’t let him outside on the balcony, did you?” A horrifying image of him falling through the rod iron railing gripped my brain before I could stop it.

  “No!” Mallory said. “Of course not. We were watching a movie, and he was here sleeping at our feet one minute and then just gone.”

  “Well, this place does have three-thousand square feet and four bedrooms to hide in.” I looked down at Goldie, who was sitting at my feet staring up at me, wagging her tail and grinning. “You know where he is, don’t you girl? Goldie, where’s Petey? Go find him!”

  With a sneeze, she jumped up and trotted over to the kitchen. We all followed her. When she got to the cabinet beneath the sink, where we keep the extra jars of homemade treats, she scratched at the wood door.

  “Looks like she wants a treat first,” Willow chuckled.

  I bent down and opened the cabinet door. There sat Petey with his chewed bear, next to the treat jar, his stubby little tail ticking back and forth. “How’d you get in there?”

  I scooped him up and checked him over while Willow and Mallory laughed with relief.

  “Better give him a treat. He earned it, the little bugger.” Mallory plucked his bear out of the cabinet and held it up with two fingers. “And you need to wash this thing. It’s gross.”

  As we all settled back onto the sofa, Willow asked, “So any luck tonight?”

  I shrugged as Petey stretched over my shoulder and nibbled at my ear. “I found out another photographer in the area, Margie Bealle, will benefit from Peter’s death by getting his clients. Also, Will was led to a male model who wasn’t very happy. Apparently Peter was holding back images from his photo shoot until he got paid. Both have been added to the suspect list. It’s just getting frustrating because we’re adding more people to the list than we’re taking away.”

  Mallory smirked. “The bright side is you still have six days to figure out what really happened.”

  I threw a pillow at her and then cradled Petey in one arm. Gently wiping some goo from his eyes, I noticed he was having a hard time keeping them opened. Tired from his adventure most likely. “All right, I’m out. Come on, Goldie, time to hit the sack.”

  This time it wasn’t dreams of Zach causing my fitful sleep. It was my father.

  He was underwater, wearing a black suit, his expression grave. He was trying to tell me something. I haven’t seen him since I was nine in real life, but I still recognized him in my dreams.

  “Father!” Even though I was under water, my breath came easily, my cries echoing like I was in a cavern. “What are you saying? I can’t hear you.” I pushed myself forward, closer and closer to him as his mouth moved frantically. The water was clear but tinged with a violet light and so … empty. Where was all the sea life?

  There was an uncomfortable tingling feeling in my body as I pushed closer. It almost felt like an electric current was running through the water. Ignoring it, I propelled myself forward.

  When I got about ten feet from him, the water grew too uncomfortable to move forward. The sensation of being shocked buzzed through me. I floated there, holding his worried gaze, not sure what to do next. There were so many questions.

  He was still trying to tell me something, his hands motioning in frustration. Suddenly sound broke through whatever barrier I’d reached. His words echoed around me. “Darwin! You’re … not … safe. Wake up!”

  A womanly figure darted at me from behind him. Eyes full of rage. Razor-like rows of teeth. Long hair fanned out behind her. Recognition hit me.

  Thwap! Her tail came around and smashed into the side of my head.

  “No!” Scrambling from beneath the covers and gasping for breath, I blinked hard. Glancing around the room, I struggled to get my bearings. “You’re all right, Darwin. It was just a dream.”

  Just a dream. Just a dream.

  But, as Goldie plopped her head into my lap and looked up at me with eyes full of concern, I held my hand to my throbbing cheek and knew the truth. It wasn’t just a dream. It was another warning. And another glimpse at my enemy.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Tuesday morning, time seemed to be moving slower than molasses as I helped customers at the pet boutique. Also, I was feeling guilty. This was supposed to be a fun trip for my sisters and so far it’d been a disaster.

  Between customers, I tried to keep myself busy so I wouldn’t watch the clock. I’d unpacked our entire stock of new inventory, wiped down every rack, straightened every shirt, collar, can of food and even arranged the homemade treats by color. Then I’d called Will. Left three messages.

  I’d wracked my brain trying to come up with something else I could do to help. I mean, for Pete’s sake, it was Tuesday. Sylvia’s family was booked for a flight back to Portugal bright and early next Tuesday morning. That meant Monday was the last possible day to hold their wedding. I’d have it in my townhouse if I had to, that wasn’t the issue. The anxiety was starting to feel like a nest of bothered hornets in my chest.

  As I wiped down the plastic pages of the photo album of birthday cakes, the bell over the door signaled a customer. I glanced up. Surprise made my heart trip in my chest. “Sylvia?” I rushed over and wrapped her
in a hug. Holy moly, she felt thin and cold.

  I stepped back and looked her over.

  Her hair was dull and pulled back into a tight ponytail. Her skin was sallow and dark half-moons had formed beneath her chestnut eyes. There was a coffee stain on her cream-colored button-down shirt and sadness emanated from her in a slow, heavy beat.

  Not good.

  I steadied myself against her sadness. “It’s good to see you but …what in heaven’s name are you doin’ here?”

  She blew out a deep breath. “I have to do something. My family is driving me crazy. Maybe working will take my mind off everything.”

  “But you don’t have any clients booked for this week,” I gently reminded her.

  Her panicked gaze darted around the boutique as she raked her teeth across a chapped lip. “I can help customers.”

  “Okay.” I wasn’t sure it was a good idea for her to be interacting with people in her state, but what could I say? It was her boutique, too. “I think Mrs. Tilley’s almost ready. If you want to ring her up, I’ll just run Goldie across the street for a quick potty break since you’re here.”

  She nodded stiffly and forced a smile. It looked more like a new crack forming in a crumbling structure.

  Not good at all. I hesitated leaving her alone. But, I would only be a minute. What could possibly go wrong?

  When I returned, Sylvia was in tears and Mrs. Tilley was patting her hand, trying to comfort her.

  Oh boy.

  I wrapped an arm around Sylvia’s shoulder. “Thanks, Mrs. Tilley. I got it from here.” I gave her a wink and led Sylvia over to sit at the tea table.

  “Desculpa,” she sniffed, plucking a Kleenex from the box next to the hot water dispenser. “I’m sorry. I thought I could keep my mind off Landon and the wedding if I stayed busy.”

  Goldie trotted over and rested her head in Sylvia’s lap. She hated to see anyone upset.

  Sylvia stroked my dog’s head absentmindedly. “What am I going to do?”

  I unwrapped a left-over cherry tart and offered it to her. She shook her head.

  Sylvia turning down a dessert? She was in worse shape than I thought. I wrapped the tart back up, much to Goldie’s disappointment. Maybe talking about it would help. “Can I ask you something?”

  She rested her chin on her fist. “Si.”

  “How do you know Landon’s the one?”

  Sylvia stared at me and then twisted in her seat. Then her attention shifted to the engagement ring on her finger. “I think you just love someone so much, you hope they are the one.”

  She settled back into the chair and looked out the window. Her voice was hoarse as she said, “That first day Landon came into the boutique, he was so charming, so intense. I felt an immediate draw to him.”

  I smiled. Yeah, I remembered that day well.

  “But when I knew I loved him … that was two months later. When I had bronchitis, remember?” She glanced at me. I nodded. “He made me homemade chicken noodle soup. His grandmother’s recipe. Brought it to my house.” Her eyes lit up at the memory. “He stayed even after I fell asleep on him. But, he didn’t know I wasn’t quite asleep when he whispered, ‘How did I get so lucky?’ You see? I knew then that I was the lucky one.” She blew her nose. “He accepts everything about me … even my crazy family.” She shrugged. “Don’t you feel like that with Will?”

  I smiled. “Sure.” But there was one difference. Will doesn’t accept everything about me.

  Speaking of … the bell clanged over the door. I turned to see Will walk in.

  “Be right back.” Tripping over my own feet, I hurried to him. “Do you have something? Please tell me you have something.”

  He shifted his weight onto one foot and did a double take when he saw Sylvia. “How’s she holding up?”

  “She’d be better if she had some good news.”

  Sylvia got up and came over, looking hopeful. “Is there news?”

  “I think I have something. Not sure what it means yet.” Reaching down, he stroked Goldie’s head as she waited patiently for his attention. “I got ahold of the real estate agent, Betsy Mills. She confirmed Vanek called her last Friday. He told her he was about to come into a lot of cash and asked her to start looking for property that was zoned for the no-kill shelter he wanted to build.”

  “Yeah, Charlie had told me about the shelter. Coming into a lot of cash though?” I worked that around in my brain, trying to see where it fit. There weren’t enough pieces yet to fit anywhere. “How much money are we talkin’ about?”

  “Don’t know. I’ll have our guys check into his finances today. I did notice the blueprints for a shelter on his desk, but I have no idea how much money it would take to build it. Guess that’s a question that needs answering, too.”

  I rubbed my arms. “Okay. Well, that’s something. But it still wouldn’t explain his missing cameras or laptop.”

  “He could have sold the laptop and cameras maybe,” Sylvia said.

  “I don’t think so,” Will answered. “That wouldn’t even be a drop in the bucket of what he’d need for the shelter.”

  Sylvia looked drained. She squeezed my arm. “I’m going to go. This was a bad idea.”

  “Sure, hon. I’ll call you later.”

  After she left, Charlie came in, looking a bit more disheveled than usual, her pink hair tucked under a Tampa Bay Rays baseball cap.

  “Hey, Charlie.”

  “Hey, guys. I just saw Sylvia. She looked terrible.”

  “Yeah, she’s not doing too good,” I agreed. “Hopefully something breaks soon. What are you up to today?”

  “I was just at the shelter, trying to get some good shots of the new dogs. Pete made it look way easier than it is.” Her head dropped. “I’m still glad to help, but it’s just not the same without him there.”

  I didn’t realize she’d gotten so close to Peter. “I’m sorry. You know my grandma says nothing in this world is ever lost. Just changed. Peter’s still with you, you may just have to be a little quieter, concentrate a little harder to feel him.”

  She swiped at a rogue tear. “Thanks, Darwin. Your grandma sounds like a smart lady.” She glanced over at Will. “Anything I can do to help figure out what happened?”

  “I don’t think so,” Will said gently. “Appreciate the offer, though.”

  I watched her shoulders fall. She really wanted to help. “Hey, did Peter mention anything to you about coming into a lot of cash to build that shelter?”

  Charlie bit her lip and shook her head. “Nope. But he had started a Fund-Me page a while back for it. Maybe someone was giving him money through there?”

  Will perked up. “That’s one of those online sites, isn’t it? Where people can donate to a cause? Can you show me his page?”

  “Sure.” She led us over to the computer on the counter and typed something in the address bar. “Here you go.”

  Will and I leaned over as he scrolled through. I could feel his disappointment. “Looks like he has eight backers and a little over three thousand dollars. Not enough to buy land for a shelter.”

  “Maybe someone told him they were going to back him and didn’t follow through?” I took over the mouse and clicked on the backer names. There were two I recognized. Rachel Jennson and Malaika Diya. They each gave five hundred dollars. “Rachel and Malaika were both Peter’s clients. You said Rachel doesn’t have a motive, but she doesn’t have an alibi, either. And what about Malaika? She was one of the models I talked to at Rachel’s party.”

  Will shook his head and blew out a breath. “Can you print out that list of names? I’ll have her checked out along with the other backers.” He kissed the top of my head. “All right, time to work. I’ll call you if I find out anything else.”

  “What now?” Charlie asked after Will left.

  Something else was bothering me. “Remember when Frankie read us something in the paper about Helping Paws Rescue being investigated for fraud? Something about their mobile spay and neuter pr
ogram? What if Peter knew something fishy was going on there, maybe saw or overhead something, and confronted the director with what he knew? I mean, he spent enough time there that if something was going on, he’d have noticed, right?”

  Charlie chewed on the inside of her cheek. “I just can’t see Sassy cheating the system or being a murderer. She fights for the life of every animal in that place.”

  “But if Peter was putting her shelter in jeopardy? You never know what people are capable of. They’re complicated and some people like animals more than humans.”

  She stared at me, a bit of suspicion surfacing. “That’s certainly true.”

  I went to find my phone to call Will. “Maybe you should wait to go back to the shelter until I can get Will to talk to her. He can find out if Peter confronted her about the fraud allegations.” I listened to it ring. “And see if she has an alibi for the morning Peter was killed.”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Will picked me up on Tuesday after I closed up the boutique and we headed out to St. Pete Helping Paws Rescue. He’d called and made an appointment to talk to Sassy White, but he thought maybe I could poke around and talk to the other employees while he was busy with her. Will asking for my help meant he was getting desperate.

  He wasn’t the only one.

  The front room of the shelter seemed pleasant enough and smelled slightly of bleach. The walls were covered in framed photos Peter had taken of the dogs and a few cats … though those guys didn’t look as amused to be wearing tiaras and feather boas.

  No one was manning the high counter with the plastic window so Will knocked on the wooden door to our right.

  A middle-aged woman, her dark hair plastered to her face with sweat, opened the door. “Oh hey, you must be Detective Blake?” When Will nodded his acknowledgement, she waved us through. “Sassy’s office is there on the right. Go on, she’s expecting you.”