Downton Tabby (20 page)

“Okay, Bertha.” I grinned at her.

Pounding feet approached, and we both turned. Callum MacAvoy had finally torn himself from the excitement and caught up with us.

“You sure know how to cause a stir.” He fell into step with us.

“Is it safe to go back for my car?” I looked down the street. It appeared the crowd had dispersed.

“If you mean have your ex and his date gone?” He gave me a pointed look. “Then, yes.”

“Not what I meant.” I hadn’t missed the reference to Geoffrey, but I wasn’t taking the bait.

“Betty, where’s your car?” I wanted to hear what MacAvoy had been about to tell me before at the café but, as fond as I was of the little lady, I was not going to let Betty play detective and put herself in danger.

“It’s around the corner from my man Mac’s car.” She pointed at Mr. TV. “I was following him and when he pulled in by the Duck place, I couldn’t find a close parking spot.”

My eyes met MacAvoy’s over her head. That explained how Betty knew where we were meeting.

Betty crossed over to the other side of the sidewalk and placed her hand in the crook of MacAvoy’s arm. “You can walk me to my car, Handsome. I wanted to ask you if that place where you got your pen recorder has any of those electronic tracking thingies?”

MacAvoy looked confused. “Why do you want one?”

“So, I can put it in Carol’s car and keep track of her,” she explained matter-of-factly.

The reporter opened his mouth and then closed it.

“Listen, hon. I’m sure Mr. MacAvoy can check into the possibility for you later, but right now I’m concerned about Raider. I’ll bet he needs to go out, so let’s get you on your way.”

Betty looked torn.

“You don’t need to follow me. I’ll tell you exactly where I’m going. I’m going home.”

She was a good dog mama. She chose Raider. I knew she would.

Mr. TV and I walked Betty to her car and sent her on her way. My car wasn’t far from where Betty’s had been.

“Do you want to talk about it?” MacAvoy fell into step with me.

“No.” Definitely not with him.

“Okay, fair enough.” He backed off without a fuss.

“So why did you want to meet me?” I stopped in front of my car.

“Like I said before Nancy Drew there fell out of the hibiscus tree, I’ve done some research on both Jake Wylie and Graham Cash.”

“Go on.” I leaned against the Benz.

“Jake’s story is pretty straightforward. California college kid with a knack for computers. However I’ve come across something interesting with Cash, but I can’t get anyone to confirm it. The police won’t talk to me at all about the case. The TV station is pressuring me, but that’s just the way things work these days.”

“What is it you’ve discovered?” Now I was curious.

“Listen, Caro, I know you don’t like me very much, and I think I understand why. Sort of.” He smiled sheepishly. “But I’m a good reporter. I check my facts.”

“Go on.”

“Did Cash ever mention his English roots?”

“No, I think he still has family in the UK, but I don’t think he has much to do with them.”

“My background research shows no mention of a Graham Cash until the young man appeared full grown here in California.” He flipped to a page in his notebook.

“That’s interesting. I’m sure you should talk to Detective Malone about this.”

“However, there is a member of the royal family whose basic stats match with Graham Cash’s. Birthdate, university, etc.”

“What part of the royal family?”

“Let’s just say, a conveyed title not an inherited one, but a direct connection.”

“First, let me be clear that I know nothing about a title, Cash’s background, or anything about anything, other than his cat. But if it was true, and Cash had a title but simply wasn’t using it, that’s no crime. Why do we care?”

“Because if he’s being protected because of his relationship to the royal family, that would be a huge story.”

“You’ve mentioned this to Malone?” MacAvoy’s far-fetched royal protection theory made my spy theory look plausible by comparison.

“I’ve left him messages.”

“What is it you think I can do?”

“You have access to Cash’s home, his office, and the investigation.”

I turned to go.

“Wait.” He stopped me with a hand on my arm. “I’m not asking you to leak information to me, but I can’t take this any further without confirmation. The last thing I need is to break a story that’s false.”

“Sorry, MacAvoy.” I walked around my car to get in. “I’ve promised people who care about me that I’ll stay out of this investigation. I’ve promised Detective Malone that I won’t involve myself.”

His expression said he wasn’t buying it.

“And,” I continued, “I’ve got my hands full with other things as you could see tonight.”

To his credit, he held his tongue.

“I can’t help you.” I got in and started my car. “Good luck with your story.”

I drove away, and as I turned the corner I could see MacAvoy walking in the other direction. Maybe he was a good reporter; I didn’t know whether he was or not. If he was right and Cash had connections and was getting special treatment, that would be an interesting twist. The problem, however, was he only needed special treatment if he killed his partner, Jake. And I still firmly believed he hadn’t.

Bottom line: someone had, and whoever had done it, it seemed very personal. The electric cord around the neck. No distance there. No precision.

And I guess all of those considerations kind of argued against my secret spy theory, didn’t they?

Curious enough about Mr. TV’s theory to do a little research of my own, when I got home I did a Google search of Graham Cash and the 2Gyz company. MacAvoy was right; there was a slew of information about Jake Wylie, but nothing about Graham Cash except for multiple articles about the success of the company he and Jake had founded.

I’d planned to return Heidi’s hair clip to her today and hadn’t gotten around to it. I decided I would to do it first thing the next morning. I’d stop by the boutique where she worked, and if the opportunity came up to ask about Cash’s family, I would. If they were serious, certainly she would know a bit more about his past.

Whether I’d be reporting what I found out to MacAvoy was something else, but I was intrigued with the idea of a titled geek.

Chapter Twenty

I’D NOT VISITED the boutique where Heidi worked before, at least not that I could remember. It was on the main strip downtown and not too far from Green’s Deli, where I’d seen Heidi the other day. It was also, by the way, in the vicinity of Mel’s shop, Bow Wow Boutique. As much as I knew Dogbert would enjoy a special treat or toy, I didn’t think I’d be stopping in to visit my cousin today.

I’d thought more about how we might come to terms on Grandma Tillie’s brooch, but I wasn’t quite ready to set up a lunch date to discuss it. A subtle approach would be essential if we were going to have any chance of success at a truce.

I walked into Flirts and was hit with a riot of sound and color. The walls and fixtures were very utilitarian and kept my attention focused on the splashes of pinks, blues, and violets of the beach-inspired ready-to-wear. Music blasted through speakers mounted on top of a cabinet jammed with brightly colored necklaces and bracelets. I didn’t see Heidi and wondered if it was her day off. I truly hoped not because I had no other way of contacting her.

A dark-haired girl was folding scarves on a table near the dressing rooms, and I started toward her thinking I’d ask if Heidi was in. Just then Heidi stepped out of the back room, her arms full of hangers. She laid them on the counter and began sorting them.

“Hello, Heidi.” I wasn’t sure how she would react to seeing me.

“If you’ve come to apologize, I accept.” She glanced up and then tucked a blond lock behind her ear. “You shouldn’t have talked to the police about what you overheard.”

I waited, silently watching her.

“I should have told the detective about it myself.” She continued sorting hangers. “And I shouldn’t have barged into your office like I did. I’m sorry about that.”

“No, you shouldn’t have, but I understand you were upset.” I paused. “However, you shouldn’t have taken your anger at me out on Betty.”

“That’s the funny lady with the lipstick eyebrows, right?”

“Yes,” I replied.

“I didn’t mean to offend her, but those eyebrows are crazy, and she was pretty rude herself.” Heidi put a pile of bright-pink plastic hangers into a cart.

“But you’re the one who, in your own words, barged in and interrupted.” It seemed she needed redirection when it came to apologies.

“You’re right,”—she tucked another lock of hair behind her other ear—“and I’m sorry I was rude. I’ll apologize. I see her all the time on the sidewalk. She must work or regularly shop somewhere near here.”

“She works at my cousin’s shop, Bow Wow Boutique. It’s a few stores down.”

“Oh, yeah. I’ve seen that store. Puppy nail polish, wedding dresses and tuxes for dogs. Even necklaces and earrings for pets.”

“That’s the one.” I nodded. “Speaking of jewelry, why I really stopped by is to return this.” I pulled Heidi’s hair clip out of my bag and handed it to her.

“Ohmigosh, thanks.” She held it up to the light. “I couldn’t think where I’d lost it. Cash bought it for me. It’s real gold and pink topaz and very expensive.”

“You’d left it on the counter at Baubles. Neeley asked me to return it to you because she was going to be closed for a couple of days.”

“I really should be more careful about keeping track of it.” She stuck it in her hair. The pink stones winked in the beam of the spotlights over the counter.

“I would have mentioned it to you yesterday, but you left in a bit of a hurry.”

“In a big huff, you mean.” Some customers had just come in, and she greeted them before continuing. “Really, Caro, the argument between Jake and Cash was nothing. I told the detective that.”

“Something else, Heidi. Someone told me Graham Cash is actually a titled Englishman, perhaps even related to the Royal Family.” I watched her for a reaction.

“Who told you that?” She fiddled with one of the hangers.

“Had you heard the same thing?” I avoided her question with one of my own.

“I had,” she admitted, “but Cash claimed it was just a rumor.”

“So you asked him about it?” Was the hint of a title what had made her switch her affections from Jake to Cash?

“Why would anyone want to keep something like that a secret?” She hadn’t really answered my question and wouldn’t look at me.

“I don’t know.” I waited for her to say more, but she just continued fidgeting. “If the police are going to figure out who killed Jake, they need to know everything. If there’s anything else, Heidi, please don’t keep it to yourself.”

“There isn’t anything else.” She responded a little too quickly.

“What about the fact you were at the house the day Jake was killed and you’ve never mentioned that detail?”

Heidi went very still and looked up at me, her wide turquoise eyes unblinking for a couple of seconds. “How do you know that?”

I was suddenly glad I’d decided to test this theory in a public place.

“The pink canned energy drink you carry around all the time. It was on the patio, and it was cold. I’ve never seen either of the guys drink that particular brand.”

Heidi pushed aside the hangers and came around the counter. She took my arm and led me to the front of the store where we weren’t within earshot of anyone else.

“Listen, Caro.” She stopped just short of the big plate-glass window. “I was there, but Jake was very much alive when I left.”

“Had Cash already been there?”

“No, I’d been swimming by myself. Jake came outside, and we talked. I took my stuff and I left. I swear, that’s all.”

“You didn’t share any of this with Detective Malone, did you?”

“No. I didn’t.”

“You need to call him.”

“Or what? You will?”

“Yes, I will.” I stared her down.

“For Pete’s sake, lady, leave the murder investigating to the police!” She spun away and stomped back to the register.

Malone would agree with her sentiment.

Another customer came in, and I took the opportunity to slip out. I stopped and reached in my bag for my sunglasses, and when I looked up, a white convertible was parallel parking a couple of spaces down.

The driver got out and reached in the pocket of his slacks, perhaps hunting for change for the meter, and then he turned and looked straight at me.

Light-blue eyes, blond tousled hair, reddish skin tone. It was the man from the secret room.

“Hey, stop,” I called. “I need to talk to you.”

He ran back around his car and jumped in, and then shot his car out into traffic without looking. There was a blast of horns from a truck as he cut it off. He had to slam on his brakes to avoid hitting a motorcycle stopped in front of him.

I dashed forward, and this time I got the license plate number. I pulled out my phone and noted it so I wouldn’t forget the numbers and letters—CA plates 7DZG461.

The driver of the motorcycle he’d narrowly missed shook his fist and yelled something I was glad I was too far away to hear.

I turned quickly toward where I’d parked and ran right into a man knocking his shopping bags out of his hands.

“Oh, I am so sorry.” I helped him gather up his belongings. “I didn’t see you.”

“You should watch where you’re going.”

All right, I’d apologized. Sheesh. I glanced up. I knew that voice. It was Wayne.

As I handed him the bags, I noted they were from Mel’s shop. “Bow Wow Boutique? So this must mean you’re getting the dog.”

“Yes, I get my basset hound in two days.” His face brightened, and he smiled for the first time since I’d met him. “I got him some special food and some toys to play with.”

I couldn’t help myself. “Just remember to walk him.” I settled the final bag on his beefy wrist. “You know where the dog park is, right?”

“I don’t like dog parks.” He frowned. “But I’ll walk him like I said I would. I filled out all the papers, but that guy at the ARL said I had to wait two days.”