Begging for Trouble (8 page)

Ellie was hardly an expert on drag queens, but she had become fairly good at figuring out what made people tick. Those hoping to succeed in show business were well aware of the competitive world they wanted to enter. Carmella had disliked Rob and considered him a rival—that much was clear, but it still wasn’t motive enough for Rob to kill him—er—her.

Still thinking, she unlocked the apartment door. According to Rob, Carmella had jumped to conclusions and assumed things that weren’t true. Was it possible she had been so insulting and rude to another performer that he or she had been out to get her, or had there been an outsider with a jaded sense of morality who had simply committed a random act of violence? Had Carmella been the real target or had it been someone else who’d shared the dressing room?

After storing her coat in the hall closet, she looked for the dogs. When she found them, her throat closed and tears blurred her vision. Her boy and the tiny pooch were in the bedroom, cuddled up on Rudy’s favorite pillow, with Bitsy asleep between his forelegs.

She tiptoed in and sidled over to the bed. Sitting carefully, she reached out and cupped a palm over Rudy’s head in a caress. He was all bluster and talk on the outside, but inside her boy was pure mush.

“I know you’re there,”
he muttered under his breath.

“I know you know,” Ellie answered, a smile in her voice.

“We had a talk, but I didn’t learn much. I’ll catch him again tomorrow afternoon, when we take Bitsy home.”

She walked to the closet, where she removed her heavy sweater and pulled a clean baby blue T-shirt over her head. Dr. Dave only had eyes for Viv, and Ellie’s best friend wouldn’t care what she wore. Sam had seen her dressed in worse plenty of times, so it wasn’t necessary that she fuss for a casual in-home dinner.

She returned to Rudy’s side of the bed and sat again, noting that Bitsy was still asleep. “Has she said anything?”

“A couple of whimpers is all.”
He unwrapped himself from around the tiny dog and walked to the middle of the bed, where he performed a full-body shake.
“I think she might have somethin’ like what Gary had. That posttrauma thing.”

“Post-traumatic stress disorder.” Ellie recalled the homeless man they’d befriended. She ran her fingers over Bitsy’s spine. When the pup relaxed and rolled onto her back, Ellie was happy to give her a tummy rub. “Are you feeling better, little girl?”

Bitsy didn’t answer, but she did seem calmer than she had earlier. “That’s it—take it easy. No one is going to make you talk before you’re ready.”

“Go over that post-whatever-it-is thing again for me,”
Rudy said, nudging her free hand with his nose.

“It’s better known as PTSD. And it is possible that’s what’s wrong with Bitsy, though I’ve never heard of a canine being diagnosed with the condition.”

“Of course not,”
Rudy grumped, plopping his bottom on the green-and-burgundy-striped duvet.
“Humans don’t give dogs any credit for having regular emotions. What have we got to be depressed about?”

“Not all humans feel that way,” she corrected. “That’s why I want Dave to conduct an examination. He’s one of the few professionals I know who give canines credit for having human reactions. He and I have already talked about a couple of the dogs in our pack. Mr. T, for one.”

“Oh, boy. Don’t let T hear that. He’s already too much of a complainer. If he knew you were talkin’ about him behind his back . . . Well, there’s no tellin’ what he’d do.”
He stretched out his front paws and dropped to a down position.
“Who else have you discussed with the vet? Lulu? Arlo?”

“None of your business,” Ellie answered.

“I would never discuss a human client with the vet, and I’m not telling you which of the pack I’ve asked him about either, so stop badgering me.” She glanced at her watch. “It’s time we got downstairs. Dr. Dave is probably already waiting for us at Viv’s.” She bent forward and nuzzled Bitsy’s head. “Think you feel good enough to spend some time with Dr. Crane?”

The dog laid her muzzle on her paws and sighed.

“It’s okay. He just wants to be sure you’re physically fit. Isn’t that right, Rudy?”

“Huh?”
He took a look at Ellie, who nodded encouragement.
“Oh, uh, yeah, yeah. That’s right. Dr. C is a good guy. I’ll even hang with the two of you to watch the exam, if you want.”

His offer lightened Ellie’s heart. Just as she’d suspected, her boy was all bluster, but happy to lend a hand when needed. In fact, Rudy’s presence would probably go a long way toward keeping Bitsy at ease.

“Do you two want to eat up here, or shall I bring your supper to Viv’s place?”

Rudy inched over to Bitsy and nuzzled her ear. Then he jumped off the bed. “Bitsy says she’s not hungry, but she says I should eat if I want.”

“Great. That’s the first positive thing I’ve heard in hours.” Then she frowned at her boy’s guilty expression. “Hold on. I didn’t hear her speak. Are you making it up just so you can get your dinner right away?”

Ellie shook her head. “Not fair, big guy. Don’t get my hopes up and let me believe she was talking if she wasn’t. It won’t help her recovery.”

“Hmm.” She gave Bitsy another measuring glance and realized the little dog was still sitting calmly. “Maybe she’ll nibble a little if she sees and smells the food. Come on, baby girl, let’s go to the kitchen. I’ll make an extra portion of Rudy’s dinner and it might spark your appetite.” Ellie carried Bitsy down the hall, talking while Rudy stayed at her heels. “He has special kibble, not exactly like yours, but just as good. And I’ll mix in a little of Grammy’s Pot Pie to make it extra tasty.”

That was her boy’s favorite flavor of canned food. It was expensive, but it was one of the best brands around and if her yorkiepoo enjoyed it, that was all she needed to know.

She set Bitsy next to Rudy’s water dish, then filled it from a pitcher she kept on the counter. “How about a drink? We don’t want you to get dehydrated. It’s not summer, but that’s still something I need to worry about.”

The poohuahua obliged by taking a few licks. Seeing that Bitsy was more eager to cooperate, she brought the dry food from the cupboard and the can of Grammy’s Pot Pie from the fridge. After mixing Rudy’s helping with a small addition, she removed a tablespoon of the food, mounded it on a saucer, and put both servings on his place mat. Then she held her breath.

“Come on, Bits. This stuff is great,”
Rudy said before digging in.

Bitsy sniffed the plate and gazed over her shoulder at Ellie. When the poohuahua picked up a kibble covered in Grammy’s Pot Pie and began to chew, Ellie dropped into a chair and heaved a sigh. Even if Bitsy ate just half, it was one less thing to worry about.

She nodded when the pup gave her another questioning look. “That’a girl. Finish it up and we’ll go for a quick walk. Then we’ll see Dr. Dave and Mr. T.”

She had high hopes that once Bitsy moved past her fear she would overcome her trauma and willingly talk about what she’d seen from her spot beneath the dressing table. As the only witness to the murder, she was the one who could clear her master, but Ellie refused to tell her so. Pressuring someone with PTSD was not a good idea. Bitsy needed to recall what had happened when she was ready and not before.

And when she did, Ellie would find a way to let Sam know, so he could catch the real criminal and set Rob free.

 

“How’s Bitsy?” Viv asked when she opened the door.

“See for yourself.” Ellie stepped aside so the poohuahua and Rudy could enter together.

“She seems good,” Viv pronounced. “At least she’s not acting like a coma patient.”

Ellie followed her friend into the kitchen and took a seat at the table. “She’s definitely better. I left her with Rudy while I made afternoon rounds, and when I got home she seemed more relaxed and less traumatized.”

“But you still want Dave to give her an exam.”

“You bet. I have to cover all the bases before I send her back to Rob.” She gazed around the kitchen. “Where’s T?”

“Watching Animal Planet, like all good dogs should.” Viv opened a couple of cartons of Chinese food and set them in her microwave. “Maybe Bitsy and Rudy want to join him.”

“Give me a minute to get them settled and I’ll be back.” Ellie waved a hand at her boy and he took off for the living room with Bitsy trailing behind. When they arrived, Mr. T was too busy viewing
Groomer Has It
to turn his head.

“Be nice, T. Bitsy’s had a rough twenty-four hours. She needs lots of TLC.” Ellie bent and rubbed his ears. “I know you can be polite if you put your mind to it.”

The Jack Russell sniffed, then gave a doggie shrug.
“I am bein’ polite.”

Rudy nosed Bitsy into Mr. T’s bed and waited for her to settle down. Then he trotted to T’s side and sat on the room’s Oriental rug.
“So, what else is on tonight’s schedule?”

The dogs began a spirited conversation and Ellie smiled. Bitsy was falling asleep and the boys were chatting. Things would be all right for a while. She returned to the kitchen and found her friend setting the table.

“I thought we’d eat in here. Is Sam coming?” Viv asked, taking plates out of an upper cupboard.

Ellie opened the utensil drawer, grabbed forks and serving spoons, and brought them over. “I invited him, but I can’t say for certain he’ll show. When do you expect Dave?”

“He left a message saying he’d be here by seven thirty. You want wine?” Viv automatically withdrew four glasses and set them on the counter. Then she pulled a bottle of Sauvignon Blanc from the fridge and took a bottle of Merlot from her wine rack. “I guess Sam’s busy with that drag queen murder, huh?”

“Very,” said Ellie, nodding at the white wine. “And he wasn’t thrilled when I called him this afternoon either. We talked, but the conversation was short and not so sweet. Rob’s out of jail. They set his bail at half a million.”

Viv let out a low whistle, poured Ellie a glass of wine, and placed it on the table. “I know Rob has a trust fund, but can he get his hands on that much money?”

“Bail bondsmen only require ten percent in cash, so it wasn’t too difficult. His sister’s flying in from Phoenix to stay with him.” She sipped her Sauvignon Blanc, pleased that it was crisp and dry. “I’ve never met her, but Rob says she’s nice and, unlike his parents, she’s fine with his line of work.”

“Lucky for him.” Viv opened the Merlot, poured herself a glass, and took a seat across from Ellie. “It’s a bummer if you don’t get along with your family.”

Ellie had always wanted a little sister, but that had never occurred, and it might have been for the best. She spent so much time trying to stay on her mother’s good side, she probably wouldn’t have had a spare minute to interact with a sibling.

“Speaking of family, how’s that crazy sister of yours?”

“Arlene or Adrianne? They’re both nuts if you ask me.”

Ellie had never met either sister, just heard of their oddball shenanigans from Viv, who was the youngest. ‟I don’t remember which one, but she wanted a dog.”

“Ah. That was Arlene.”

“That’s her. You said her boyfriend was buying her a dog as a Christmas present. Did he get her what she wanted?”

Viv rested her elbows on the table. “Dr. Kent bought her three Boston Terriers. Apparently when they went to the breeder, she couldn’t make up her mind, so they took all the dogs that were left in the litter. She e-mailed me a picture. There’s Isabella, Darby, and Corey.”

According to Viv, Arlene’s boyfriend was a general practitioner named Martin Kent, and he took care of the rich and famous on the far end of Long Island. Viv said he sounded like a pompous ass, but Ellie knew she was exaggerating. Still, she wouldn’t mind meeting the man for herself.

“Wow, three puppies. Boston Terriers are intelligent and gentle, and they’re a great dog for an apartment, too,” said Ellie, remembering what she knew of the breed. “But they must be driving her nuts.”

“The way Arlene tells it, she’s puppy-proofed the summer cottage she inherited from Myron, who was her first husband, and Dr. Kent turned the bottom floor of her guesthouse into offices. T and I are supposed to visit her for a week over the summer, probably for the wedding.” Viv threaded her fingers through her thick brown hair. “Of course, Ms. Mensa will insist that her dogs are smarter than T, which will really tick me off because no canine can beat my Jack Russell in that category.” She rolled her eyes. “I’m sure we’ll have a lot to discuss.”

Ellie knew Viv had an IQ high enough to allow her entrance into Mensa, too, but she’d never tried to join. Being the youngest of three overachieving but flaky girls, she’d made a point of dancing to a different drummer while growing up. “So she’s moved to the Hamptons permanently?”

“Yep. Says it’s a fabulous house right on the beach. I can’t imagine being that far out, but she loves it there, and her fiancé makes a fortune treating every star and celebrity in the area. I’m starting to think he’s some kind of Dr. Feelgood.”

The doorbell rang and Viv stood. “That’s probably Dave. I’ll be right back.”

Ellie stayed in her seat and waited patiently for her best friend. Viv and Dave were sure to share a kissy-face greeting and she didn’t want to intrude. Though she and Sam were affectionate in private, they did little more than hold hands in public. She didn’t mind, though, because Sam more than made up for it when they were alone.