Get Fluffy (20 page)

Chapter Thirty-Five

I left a voicemail for Malone, letting him know I had Cliff and Ted’s alibi staying at my house. If I had to guess, he was still tied up at the accident scene aka crime scene. And we all knew how he felt about his crime scenes.

Come to find out, he’d left a number of messages for Nikki the last couple of weeks, but she’d been on her honeymoon in Thailand (no wonder Mitch wasn’t returning Mama’s calls). Nikki thought it would be better if she broke the news to Malone that she was my sister-in-law. Personally, I think she liked sharing quasi-bad news as much as I did.

I’d also left Grey a voicemail and a text to call me.

Drunk Cliff was momentarily awake and crying like a baby in my driveway. There was no way on God’s green earth I’d let him in my house in his condition. It was a little cloudy out, not cold by any means, so sitting outside in short sleeves wasn’t hurting him any.

Seriously, he was still wearing yesterday’s clothes. Who knows what he’d been doing since I’d seen him at breakfast. I glanced at his Land Rover, the front tire hopped-up on the curb in front of my house. I take that back, it was obvious what he’d been doing. And now we were all paying the price.

It was supposed to rain later this evening, which could prove to be a good thing if Cliff tossed his cookies in my driveway.

Nikki and I hung outside with Cliff while we waited for Malone. She handed him a mug of coffee (I had no idea I even had coffee in my house; it must have arrived with my guests).

He accepted it grudgingly. “You think you’re so smart. You don’t know anything,” he sniffled.

“You’re not going anywhere. Fill us in.” I was eager to hear what he had to say.

My neighbor, Endor, a white haired eighty-something, poked her head out her front door and yelled across the street in her shaky voice. “Do I need to call the cops?”

I waved her off. “They’re on their way. Thanks.”

She waved back and disappeared inside her house.

“Mona made some bad investments,” he said.

“Like what?” Nikki asked.

“More like who. She invested in Cliff, and he gambled away her money,” I said wryly.

“I know someone, who knows someone, who
 . . .
” He rubbed his jaw, collecting his random thoughts.

Nikki looked at me wide-eyed. “This is going to take a while,” she said under her breath. “I’m going to grab a couple of the beach chairs I saw in your garage.”

“Great idea.”

Cliff watched Nikki walk away. “I know someone who paints. I paid him to make me copies,” he said.

“Forgeries.”

“No, copies. Authentic museum quality copies.” He sounded like an internet ad.

“What happened to the originals?”

“I sold them.”

“Why didn’t Mona turn you in?”

“She needed the money, too. She hated it.” A satisfied smile settled on his lips.

“Did anyone else know about this?”

He nodded, then held his head one handed and groaned in pain. “Tricia and Jo knew she ran out of money.”

“Are you sure?” That couldn’t be right. Tricia had acted as shocked as the rest of us that Mona was broke. I stared at Cliff, who’d also acted surprised. Apparently they were all better actors than I’d given them credit for.

“They knew. That’s why Jo was mad at Mona. She’d never paid. Not a single penny.”

And now Jo was dead. Nikki reappeared with my favorite white and blue-striped chairs. They were still sand-encrusted from the last time I’d used them. She opened one and handed it to me.

“Thanks.” We set up a couple of feet from where Cliff sat on the cold pavement. I don’t think he even noticed.

“Were you and Jo having an affair?” I asked.

He hesitated. “We might have fooled around a time or two.”

I wondered if that was why she ran. “What’s the deal with Fluffy’s pet recorder?” I still hadn’t found the time to watch that silly thing.

“Hey, that’s mine. Give it back. I bought that to spy on Mona.” He tried to stagger to his feet, but failed miserably.

Nikki and I shared a look of disbelief.

So, it wasn’t Mona’s. Had Alex known, and that’s why he’d brought it to me?

“Mona called it her insurance,” I told him.

“Yeah, it recorded me and Jo messin’ around. And there might be some footage of me carrying out a couple of paintings.”

It really was her insurance. Mona was a smart cookie.

Not so smart as to keep from getting herself killed, but she’d been good at keeping tabs on those around her.

Cliff looked up at me, his face wan in the sun. He squinted his eyes. “I think I’m going to be sick.” He weaved like a willow tree in a windstorm, then passed out cold.

“Is he always like this?” Nikki asked.

I shrugged. “Night night, cowboy. Pleasant dreams.” He was going to have one doozy of a hangover in the morning.

Chapter Thirty-Six

Once Cliff had passed out, there was no more getting information out of him. Nikki helped me load him into my Jeep, and I drove him to Dana Point. He wasn’t sleeping off his bender in my driveway. We’d figure out how to get his Land Rover to him later.

I called Grey before I left and filled him in on where I was headed and what Cliff said. Neither one of us completely believed Cliff. We agreed Grey should drive down to Dana Point and see the paintings first hand. He’d be at least thirty minutes.

I pulled into same parking lot as last time, only this time I parked as close to the dock as possible. I looked over at Cliff, slumped against the door. His drunken breath fogged the passenger-side window. Man, he stank.

Cliff’s mouth dropped open, and he started snoring. There was no way I’d be able to get him to his yacht without help. Hopefully, Bruce would be on duty, and he could help me.

I was torn about leaving Cliff, but it wasn’t as if anyone was in the market for a passed-out-drunk-fifty-something white man with zero money.

I locked the Jeep, then headed for the security office. I rounded the corner and ran into none other than Tricia Edwards.

“What are you doing here?” She looked around the dock and blushed.

Had I caught her in the act? Was this where her married man lived? “Cliff passed out drunk on my driveway. I brought him home.”

She blinked. “Really? You have Cliff? You can’t carry him all that way.”

I shrugged. “I’m looking for Bruce.”

“Who?”

“The security kid.”

“Oh, I just came from the security office. No one’s there. But I did see a wheelchair. I could grab that, and I’ll meet you in the parking lot. Between the two of us we can get him to the boat.”

“Great.” I wasn’t sure why she was suddenly being so nice, but I’d take it. Grey was on his way, but who knew how long he’d be. And in the meantime there was always the possibility that Cliff would upchuck in my Jeep.

I rushed to Cliff and positioned him the best I could so he’d fall into the chair. Tricia rolled up a short time later.

“I was thinking, if you hold the chair steady, I should be able to drop him in there like a bale of hay.”

Tricia looked at me with unblinking eyes. She apparently didn’t know what a bale of hay was. Since she didn’t seem to have a better idea, I went with Plan A.

She positioned the wheelchair so it was parallel to the Jeep and set the brake. I grabbed Cliff by the waist and hugged him against me. I gagged when he exhaled.

“Oh my Lord, he reeks.” I swallowed past the puke inching up my throat.

I took a deep breath and pulled him forward. He toppled out of the Jeep and onto me. I staggered under his weight. “Ugh.” I quickly found my balance, then pivoted so his butt was aimed for the wheelchair.

“Here he comes,” I murmured into his chest.

And there he fell.

I stared at his sorry drunken self. There was no way we’d ever get him on the boat. I’d have to wait for Grey.

“We have to get his keys,” Tricia said.

I held them in front of me. “I grabbed them before you got here. He’s really heavy. We’re not going to get him on the yacht.”

“We’ll find a way. Even if we have to dump in the Pacific.” Her eyes sparkled with a touch of vindictiveness.

Before I could say a word she was off with Cliff. I had half a mind to leave them both. As tempting as it sounded, I couldn’t do that, not even to Tricia. I rushed to catch up to her.

I unlocked the security gate, and we strolled on through. It was easier getting onto Cliff’s boat today than it had been with Darby.

“You didn’t say why was Cliff at your house?” Tricia asked, looking straight ahead.

“He was going on about Mona and Jo. Did you hear about Jo?” I asked suddenly aware that she was really quiet and hadn’t said a word about Jo’s run in with public transportation.

She nodded. “Horrible.” She picked up her pace.

Something Cliff said popped into my head. Both Jo and Tricia had known about Mona’s finances.

My mouth suddenly went dry. I slowed down and started to assess my escape options. If Jo was dead, and Cliff had an alibi, and Darby really didn’t do it, that left only one person.

Holy crapola.

She stopped in front of
Ruthless
and parked the wheelchair. “I see you’ve figured it out.” Her voice was cold and lifeless. Just like Mona and Jo.

I took a step backward, but she grabbed my arm and shoved me against the yacht. It was totally unexpected.

She shoved something hard and cold into my side.

“Board,” she ordered, ice dripping from her words.

Oh. My. God. Tricia killed Mona.

I was on autopilot. I was trying to remember everything I could about the yacht when Darby and I were here the other night. Was that just a day ago?

“What about Cliff?” I asked. “You can’t just leave him in the wheelchair.”

“Don’t worry about that greedy idiot. I have plans for him, too. I’m framing him for your murder.”

I swallowed. “I hate to break it to you, but I don’t want to die.”

She shoved me downstairs. I stood in the salon frantically looking for an escape.

“I don’t understand, why did you kill Mona? You were friends.” If Darby couldn’t wrap her mind around a best friend sleeping with the husband, how was she ever going to accept murder?

Tricia paced, waving a wrench in front of her. That’s what she’s shoved in my back? I’d thought she had a gun. Dang.

“Mona wouldn’t give me my money,” she whined.

“She was broke. You heard Owen.”

“She wasn’t broke. Cliff was selling her art on the black market. If she was a real friend, she would have given me my money. We had a contract.”

“The one you lost?”

“I didn’t lose it. What kind of idiot do you take me for? She never gave me my signed copy. She hid it somewhere. That night, I demanded what was mine. I needed that money. She laughed at me. I was so angry, I hit her. I didn’t mean to, but afterwards I was glad.” Her lip curled with disgust.

“She laughed at everyone. Humanity was her private joke,” I said. It was true. Tricia wasn’t the only one Mona had belittled and demeaned.

“Well who’s laughing now?” she asked, wild-eyed, slapping the wrench in the palm of her hand. “I wish I could say I’m sorry I have to do this, but I don’t like you. Never have.”

“I don’t like you either. You should know, Grey’s on his way.”

She shot me a scorching look, cold and calculating. “Well, you’ve taken care of the last step for me. I was trying to figure out who would stumble upon you and Cliff. Now I don’t have to worry about it.”

Great. “Glad I could help with my own demise. Did you know about Darby?” I asked, stalling. Hurry up, Grey.

“I overheard Cliff and Mona arguing about her one night. And then after I’d killed Mona that little brat called. It was destiny. I just added three little letters, I-C-E, before her name, and it was perfect. Until you poked your nose in everything.”

Wow, that phrase was really getting around.

Now, I have to admit the irony of the current situation wasn’t lost on me. I’d sworn to Grey and Darby I would never allow myself to be held captive by a psycho hit man.

I’d never considered a wrench wielding psycho woman.

“You had to know I’d never let Darby go down for a crime she didn’t commit.”

Grey
had
to be here by now. I had no idea how he’d get past the security gate, but I had every confidence he’d find a way.

“It was fine when you were trying to prove it was Jo or Cliff. Then Jo was about to tell you about me and what I knew.”

“What are you saying?”

“I pushed her. You know, the Laguna bus system is very timely.”

She was mad. Crazy. A freakin’ killer. Good grief, after two murders, what’s one more?

“How?” My voice broke.

“She wasn’t running from you. I saw her walking down the street and knew that was my chance to get rid of her, too.”

A loud splash interrupted her tirade.

“Was that Cliff?” I asked.

She turned to look, and I shoved her into the mini bar and ran for the sleeping quarters. I shut the door and locked it. I pulled out my cell and called the cops.

Tricia started screaming obscenities—banging on the door with the wrench. I swallowed my fear. Lord, I hoped that door held.

In the background I could hear a loud booming voice shout, “Police.”

Thank God.

Tricia squealed and pleaded but from where I was hiding, the cops weren’t having any of it.

Someone tried to open the door. “Melinda, are you in there?” It was Grey.

I unlocked the door and threw myself into his arms. “What in Sam Hill took you so long?”