Get Fluffy (19 page)

Chapter Thirty-Two

It was partly cloudy with a chance of clearing Darby’s name. I know, lame. The whole sleuthing gig was going to my head. But I could feel it in my bones. Today we’d dig up some clue to change the direction of Malone’s investigation. I still needed to call him.

To be honest, there was never a time I’d thought I’d step foot in Jo’s business. In fact, I hadn’t known she even worked out of an office building. I just assumed she’d worked out of her home. Imagine my shock to learn she had an office suite right off Forrest. It was so professional of her. So unexpected.

Our little trio squeezed through the door, Fluffy leading the way. This wasn’t her first visit. She wasn’t tense or showing the need to sniff around and investigate. Unlike me.

Jo stomped down the hallway with a supersized mug in her hand. “What do you want?” she barked.

I felt Darby flinch.

I couldn’t stop looking at Jo’s hair. Somehow it managed to be a rats nest and stringy simultaneously. It looked horrible. Actually, she looked bad from head to toe. There were dark circles under her eyes, and her shoulders sagged. Her whole demeanor was broken. Blackmailing people must be tiring work. Maybe Malone had already paid her a visit.

I pulled myself together. “We want a reading. Or whatever you call it.”

“Bull.” Her foghorn voice belted out the one syllable word. She pointed at Fluffy. “You brought the dog. This is a test.”

Apparently we were diving right in. “You can look at it that way if you want. But if you can convince me you’re legit, what better advertisement is there?”

“I don’t do séances.” She tilted her chin, daring me to challenge her.

“Neither do I.” I shot her my beauty pageant smile.

She rolled her eyes, disgusted.

Hey, that smile had won me a crown or two back in the day.

Jo brushed some crumbs off the front of her black t-shirt. “Fine. But you have to do what I tell you.”

I looked at Darby, and she nodded. “Agreed,” I said. Okay, I crossed my fingers behind my back.

We headed down the hallway to her miniature Dr. Phil office. A very long uninviting couch, a couple of overstuffed chairs, end tables. And boxes and boxes of tissues stashed within reach throughout the room. A staple for when you tell your clients they’re going to die.

“Sit,” Jo ordered.

Fluffy immediately sat on my foot. “Not you, girl.” I patted her head.

“Do we take the couch or chairs?” Darby asked.

“Whatever you’re comfortable with,” Jo replied with a vague wave of her hand.

Darby looked uneasy and headed straight for the couch. I followed her lead. It wasn’t my first choice, but hopefully we weren’t staying long. Lord have mercy, it was like sitting on plywood. I’d better not have any splinters in my butt by the time we left.

Fluffy paraded over and inched herself up against Darby. I shot a I-see-how-it-is glare at Snob Dog. I swear she smiled back.

Jo warily settled on a chair. She let out a pent up breath, closed her eyes and rolled her shoulders a couple of times.

“Why were you blackmailing Mona?” I asked.

She sighed and shot me a death glare with one eye open. “You’re not very good at this. You agreed.”

I shrugged. “I crossed my fingers.”

Jo opened both eyes. She looked tired, almost as if I’d finally broken her lying spirit. I almost felt sorry for her. Almost.

“I told you I didn’t kill Mona. I wasn’t blackmailing her, either. Tricia and Cliff were having an affair.” She continued to stick to the same story.

“That just doesn’t make sense,” Darby insisted, stroking Fluffy’s head, which was now resting adoringly on Darby’s lap. The sweet girl from Nebraska refused to believe a good friend would commit the ultimate betrayal. Man, I loved her spunk.

“Look, Jo. I know you’re hiding something. What is it? Where were you the night Mona died?” I asked.

“I was here. Alone.”

“No one’s going to believe you. Spill it. What are you hiding?” I said.

She rubbed her hands on her jeans. “Mona fired me,” she finally admitted.

“I know.” Her head shot up, shock clearly stamped on her face. “Tricia told me. Do you want to fill me in on the bathroom argument yet?”

“Why, it sounds like Tricia’s already talked enough for the both of us.”

“She’s going to file a police report. She claims you accosted her in the parking lot last night and are blackmailing her.”

Jo swore. Darby covered Fluffy’s ears.

“She is such a blabbermouth,” Jo complained.

“So it’s true?” Darby asked, wide-eyed.

Jo sat forward, nostrils flaring. “No, it’s not true. I’m not the one who was blackmailing Mona,” she insisted.

No, that was Cliff. The cad boasted about it at breakfast. “But you admit to blackmailing Tricia?”

She looked at Fluffy. “I told you. She was having an affair with Cliff.”

I shook my head. “Not according to Cliff. I believe him.”

“You’ve talked to Cliff?” Jo looked shaken. She drummed her finger on the arms of the chair.

I shifted my weight, not exactly comfortable with the wild look developing in Jo’s eyes. “A little over an hour ago. He was full of info.”

Jo sprang from the chair. Darby gasped and laid a protective hand on Fluffy.

“I’ll be right back,” Jo said with a forced smile. “I just remembered I didn’t set the phones to forward to voicemail.” She raced out of the office like a bat from you know where.

I don’t know who she thought she was fooling, but it didn’t take a medium or a psychic to know she was ducking out. I could hear the back door creaking as she tried to quietly and slowly make her escape.

“She’s running.” I shouted.

Fluffy barked and charged for the door.

Chapter Thirty-Three

I grabbed Darby, she grabbed Fluffy, and we rushed out the front door. We hid behind a huge black Caddy SUV parked on the street and waited for our escapee. Sure enough, Jo charged out of the backyard without a backwards glance in our direction, wearing dark sunglasses and a leather vest over her t-shirt.

Game on, sister.

The three of us followed up the busy street, weaving around people when needed, sometimes hiding behind them, not wanting to give away our presence. It may not be prime tourist season, but people flocked to Laguna year round.

Jo bobbed around a young couple walking their Great Dane. She glanced over her shoulder. I tried to hide behind the tree, but it was too late, she’d spotted us. Crapola.

Jo picked up speed and was now almost running. I wish I knew where she was running to.

“She did it. She killed Mona.” Darby sounded out of breath. From the realization we knew who killed her mother or from the spontaneous cardio exercise, I couldn’t tell. I was concentrating on not letting Jo out my sight as we got closer to PCH.

Once Jo reached the corner she cut left. I couldn’t see her. Suddenly, there was an ear-piercing scream mixed with the blare of a bus horn.

“No, no, no.” I yelled.

I hauled it around the corner trying to catch up to Jo, leaving Darby and Fluffy behind.

A small crowd had gathered in front of the bus, people pulling out their cell phones.

The bus doors swung open, and a short frantic man scurried into the crowd.

“She ran into the street,” his panicked voice rang in the air. “I couldn’t stop. You saw it, right? Someone tell me you saw her run out in front of me.” He yelled at the crowd gathered around the bus. He was the bus driver, Denny, according to his plastic name badge.

He charged up to a young kid standing on his skateboard and grabbed a handful of his shirt. “You saw it happen. She ran out in front of me.”

The kid pushed him away. “Dude, you ran over the pet psychic.”

Denny suddenly collapsed in a heap onto the sidewalk.

Ambulance and police sirens screeched toward us. Unfortunately, I think Denny would be the only one benefiting from the ambulance headed our way.

“Why would she dart in front of a bus?” someone in the crowd asked.

“I think someone pushed her,” a shaky female voice commented behind me.

“Check out that tattoo. Do you think she got it locally?” someone else said, clearly impressed with Lassie (may she rest in peace).

The kid on his skateboard prodded Denny with his foot. “Is he dead, too?”

My stomach was in knots. I looked over at Darby. “Are you okay?”

She nodded, but I could tell she wasn’t. She looked like she was about to puke.

My stomach clenched. How in the world was I going to explain this to Grey? The first police car roared up to the crowd and parked in a way to block traffic. What a mess.

Seeing the cop car added a whole new level of anxiety. I chewed my lip. “Lord, I sure hope Malone doesn’t show up. Even I can’t talk my way out of this one.”

Chapter Thirty-Four

Darby had retreated back to her place. She’d taken Fluffy with her. For as many times as she said she was fine, I could tell she was shaken up. Of course, Malone hadn’t helped.

He’d been pretty worked up when he found us there. But that was nothing compared to when it came out I’d been poking my nose where it didn’t belong. His words, not mine.

Apparently he’d already cleared Jo as a suspect, and somehow it was now
my
fault she’d taken a face plant into a bus. When I told him about Cliff, he yelled at me in his I’m-going-to-throw-you-in-jail voice to stay out of it.

So I went home to Missy and to wait for Grey.

Mitch was running on the beach. (He’d finally talked to our mama. Enough said.) Nikki was packing.

“You don’t have to leave.” I sat crossed-legged on the bed and unpacked as she packed.

Nikki sighed. “Mel, you’ve been very gracious, but you have a lot going on here.”

I got on my knees and dumped her suitcase contents all over the bed. I smiled, satisfied with my work. “You’ll realize soon enough, if I have something to say, I’m just out there with it. If I wanted my place back or felt you two where cramping my style, I’d have put you up in the Montage.”

Nikki tucked her hair behind her ears and stared wide-eyed at the pile of clothes. “You’re exactly like your brother described.”

“Feisty?” I jumped up and hugged her. “Come on, you guys don’t have to leave tonight.” I stepped back and grabbed her hands. “You haven’t even met Grey. Stay. We’ll take you guys to dinner at Mozambique. You’ll love it. They have the best sweet potato fries.”

She studied me, looking for something. I had no idea what. “You’ve just witnessed someone getting hit by a bus. On a scale of one to ten, how freaked out are you?”

I squeezed her hands, then let go. I plopped on the bed with a bounce. “A three. We just saw the aftermath. The actual face plant into the corner of the bus was missed.”

Nikki blinked rapidly, then burst out laughing. “I thought Mitch was exaggerating about his family.”

“Sugar, there’s no stretching of the truth needed where the Langstons are concerned,” I said in the thick Texas accent I’d worked to hard to lose.

A loud and obnoxious banging interrupted our giggle fest.

“Someone’s really mad,” Nikki said, looking toward the door.

Who was interrupting our bonding moment? Caro? Had she already discovered I had the brooch?

“Open the door,” Cliff’s drunk voice bellowed. “I know you’re in there.”

Definitely not my lovely cousin.

“I’ll be right back.” I made my way to the door and opened it a crack. “Didn’t we just talk this morning?”

“Shay outta my life,” he slurred.

Someone was drunker than a skunk. And smelled like one, too. “You killed your ex-wife.”

“Nooo.” He shook his head, slacked-jawed, as he spoke. He looked a little like Missy when she shook.

I don’t know why I was arguing with a drunk man, but it seemed I was glutton for more Malone punishment. It wouldn’t matter to him that Cliff had sought me out.

“Jo’s dead,” I said. I opened the door wider. “It had to be you. You showed up at her place and argued about money. When she told you she wasn’t giving you any more money you got angry and whacked her with Fluffy’s Emmy.”

“You’re a liar.” He got right up in my face, his dragon breath singeing my eyebrows.

Nikki appeared behind me with my Louisville Slugger. My back up. “Do I need to call the police?” she asked, making sure Cliff could see the bat.

“Yes,” I said.

“No,” Cliff growled. He swayed back and forth as he stepped back.

I’m sure he was having visions of a different bat coming at him.

“Hey, I know you.” Nikki pushed her way in front of me and poked Cliff in the chest with the bat. He almost landed on his rear, but managed to right himself. “What are you doing here? Are you following me?” she asked.

Cliff wiped the sweat off his forehead. “I don’t know you.”

“Yes, you do. I’m Nikki Espinoza. Well, now I’m Nikki Langston. I’m one of the pit bosses at the Luxor casino.”

“Congratulations.” He saluted her with his right hand.

“It’s you.” She turned to me. “I kicked him and his card counting brother out of my casino. They’re lucky they’re not banned from The Strip.”

“When did you kick him out?” This was news to me. No wonder Cliff was so surly.

“A couple of weeks ago.”

Cliff swayed back and forth trying to focus on Nikki. “You look different.”

“Do you remember what day of the week that was?” I asked Nikki.

“Sure. It was a Monday. I only work Fridays through Mondays. Why?”

I swung around to face Cliff. That was the night Mona had died. “You’ve been telling the truth. If you were still in Vegas, there’s no way you could have been here.”

“I told you I didn’t kill Mona,” he yelled just before he passed out on my front step.