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Authors: Sparkle Abbey

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BOOK: Get Fluffy
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Chapter Nine

The second I pulled up to the Divine Spa, Jade flew out the front door in her four-inch Christian Louboutin heels and black Gucci pantsuit.

“I was absolutely gobsmacked to hear about Mona. Tell me everything.” Jade clapped her hands together as if summoning Tinkerbelle, which seemed fitting since they had the same hair.

I hopped out of the Jeep, my boots slapping the asphalt. “There’s not much to tell.”

Jade shot me an impatient look. “How did she die?”

I didn’t answer right away, measuring my words. I made my way to the passenger side. I flung the door open and unharnessed Fluffy. “Someone hit her in the head
 . . .
with Fluffy’s Emmy.”

Jade peered over my shoulder and gasped. “Bloody hell. She looks beastly.”

“I told you she needed a lot of work.”

“Is she wearing a burka?”

I removed the hair clip and tugged off the blanket. Fluffy shivered. I clipped the leash on Fluffy’s collar, and she gingerly jumped on to the sidewalk in one effortless motion. She stood tall and erect, the tip of her tail poised like a telescope. Her version of I-don’t-need-you.

Think again, girl.
She looked like she’d rolled in a back alley Dumpster.

Jade pushed the snood off Fluffy’s head. “Why is she wet? Are you a suspect?”

“I wasn’t allowed to use the tub so I took her for a walk in the fountain. No, I’m not a suspect.” Although, Malone hadn’t actually spoken those words out loud. Well, shoot.

“The fountain in the driveway?” Her blond eyebrows disappeared behind her bangs. “You did have a row with Mona not that long ago.”

“So?”

“You tossed her and Tricia out of Bow Wow.”

“That doesn’t mean I killed her.”

“Did you brush her?”

Good grief, it was difficult keeping up with her ping-pong conversation. Hopefully she was talking about Fluffy. “No.”

“Good. You don’t have the proper tools and could have damaged the coat.”

I dragged a hand through my hair and rubbed my head. I had no idea what she was talking about. I owned a bulldog. There wasn’t much to brush. Wet or dry.

She grabbed Fluffy’s leash from my grip. “I always thought Mona was barking mad. Any real suspects?”

“Look, I doubt Malone wants people speculating about what happened. So, if you can keep this to yourself
 . . .
” I trailed off hoping she’d understand. Malone hadn’t ordered me to keep my mouth shut, but I couldn’t imagine him happy about people gossiping about his case.

“Absolutely.” Jade stroked Fluffy’s head compassionately. “This is going to take much longer than I anticipated. I’ll phone you in a few hours.”

“I’ll be at Gina’s.” I took one last look at Fluffy and tried to imagine what Mona would say if she could see her dog now.

With a nod, Jade was off. “Okay, My Lady. Come on in here and let’s pamper you like you deserve.” And then they disappeared into the salon.

Relieved I’d postponed my Fluffy responsibility at the eleventh-hour, I jumped in the Jeep and headed for Gina’s. The cool night air raced against my face as I zoomed down PCH.

I spotted Grey sitting in the patio area, people watching. A huge goofy smile spread across my mouth. I whipped the Jeep around and quickly found a decent parking spot a block down the street from the restaurant.

I grabbed my tote and hustled toward my dates, practically falling onto the table as I reached them. Missy jumped around like a crazy dog, flinging drool on Grey’s shoes. I crouched next to her and scratched behind her ears.

“Hi, girlfriend. How ya doing? Did you miss me?”

She licked my face and made silly snorting noises. I was overwhelmed with an unexpected sadness for Fluffy and her loss. My chest constricted. I hugged Missy tighter.

A jumble of conflicting emotions squeezed my heart as I looked up at Grey. “Thanks for getting her. I bet she was happy to see you.”

Ever the gentleman, he pulled out my chair, then bent down and kissed my cheek. “Missy planted a few slobbery kisses to prove it.”

I grabbed his face and planted a big fat kiss of my own on his lips. “Just the kind you like. You’re the best.”

“Only because I like your dog.”

There was thirty pounds of truth in his off-handed remark. Missy jumped up on my leg, her pink tongue lapping the air. She was crazy, but she was
my
crazy dog.

“Sit down, Mel. Missy has no idea what’s going on. The food will be ready any time.”

“What?”

Grey regarded me with his intense green eyes. “She’s picking up your stress.”

Overwhelmed with exhaustion, I plopped onto the chair. Missy waddled back to Grey’s side of the table and returned to her resting place. She stared at me, panting as if she’d just run a marathon. Grey was right. For Missy, the day was just like any other.

Alanis Morissette’s version of “Crazy” sang out around us.

“You have a new ring tone.” Grey took a drink of his bottled water.

I shook my head. “That’s not mine.”

“It’s coming from your purse.”

I reached into my tote, found my cell and held it up. “Not me.”

My purse continued to sing
 . . .

We’re never gonna survive
 . . .

What the heck?

I rummaged around and found a second phone. I didn’t recognize it at first, but I was familiar with the name on the screen. Tricia.

“Holy crapola.” I had Mona’s phone. I looked across the table at Grey, and I saw the question ready on his lips.

Without thinking about the consequences, I answered. “Hello? Hello…?”

Silence answered on the other end.

“Did they hang up?” Grey asked.

I nodded. “I guess so.” I stared at the phone. How did I get Mona’s cell? Then I remembered calling her shortly after arriving at her house.

Well heck, I could have called Armando at anytime. I thumbed through the contacts and found his unlisted number. I pulled out a receipt from my purse and jotted down his information.

“Whose phone?” Grey asked calmly.

My head snapped up like a guilty criminal. I opened my mouth to answer, when Uncle Sal (he wasn’t really our uncle; that’s what everyone called him) yelled out our number.

“Food’s ready,” I said.

Grey slowly pushed his chair back; his rugged face looked tired and slightly worried. Missy lumbered to the other side of the table and under my chair.

I’m not sure why he was concerned. I didn’t steal the phone—I just accidently palmed it from Mona’s house. I’d give it back. But I wanted to snoop first. Didn’t everyone want to know who Mona had on speed dial?

I scrolled through Mona’s contact list, seeing the names and numbers of people I expected: Teri Essman (the mayor), Tricia Edwards, Armando.

“Holy cow,” I whispered. Darby Beckett’s number was programmed as “ICE,” In Case of Emergency. What was going on?

I looked around and saw Grey grabbing our food. I waved and blew him a kiss as my mind ran wild with questions. I leaned back, just out of his direct line of vision, then quickly did a little more snooping.

According to the phone history, Mona’s last outgoing call was to Jo at 4:00 pm, and the last incoming call before mine was from Darby at 4:45 pm. That was when I had called Mona.

I looked up and saw Grey with our food. I fumbled with the phone as I turned it off and dropped it into my bag. My heart raced. He’d ask about the phone again.

I tapped my purse nervously. Grey wasn’t a bend-the-rules-kinda-guy when it came to the law. He’d want me to turn the phone over to the police. Tonight. I didn’t want to disappoint him, but Darby was my best friend, and I had her back.

I had to talk to Darby first. Once the police had Mona’s cell, who knew what they’d think? Heck,
I
didn’t know what to think.

Grey placed the food on the table and sat. My stomach growled. He pushed the appetizers in front of me. I grabbed a ricotta stick and took a bite.

“Who called?” he asked.

I looked down at my lap and brushed off a few crumbs. Oh, Lord. I didn’t want to lie. I cleared my throat. “It wasn’t for me.”

“It’s not your phone,” he said.

I was at a complete loss for words and excuses. What’s the saying? The silence was deafening.

“I don’t want to tell you,” I blurted, sweating like a turkey the day before Thanksgiving.

“I see.” His face hardened. I could sense he was recalculating how to get the information he wanted.

By now my heart pounded so hard I was amazed Grey couldn’t hear it. “Trust me,” I said.

“If you’re in some kind of trouble—”

“I’m not in trouble. I-I can’t tell you right now. Honestly, it’s not even that big of a deal.”

“Then you shouldn’t have a problem answering my question.”

My nervousness started to grow into frustration. I dropped a slice of pizza onto my plate. “If you want ‘us’ to work, trust has to be a two-way street.”

Grey leaned across the table, his eyes flashing a potluck of emotion. “I trust you with my life, and you know it. You’re picking a fight for no reason.”

“I’m not picking a fight.”

“In my experience, when someone
purposely
hides the truth, it’s always a big deal,” Grey warned.

Warning noted and filed.

Chapter Ten

We’d survived Fluffy’s overnight. Missy and I had shared a queen-sized bed with a king-sized Fluffy, and I’d dreamt about Grey’s king-sized warning. By 9:00 am, I’d rolled out of bed a king-sized grump.

Once I’d walked the dogs (good grief; I didn’t like picking up after such a big dog), I’d brushed my teeth, washed mine and Missy’s faces, and pulled my hair back into a messy ponytail. Everything else would have to wait until after breakfast.

I shuffled around the sunshine-filled kitchen in my fuzzy bulldog slippers, Victoria’s Secret sleeping shorts and tank top (yes, I’d walked the dogs in my PJ’s; no one cares, trust me). I poured a bowl of my favorite cereal, Cap’n Crunch with Crunch Berries, then meandered out to the patio, leaving the French doors open so the dogs could join me.

I settled onto a wicker chair and propped up my feet. What I craved was a chai latte from the Koffee Klatch. If only they delivered. I closed my eyes, tipped my face to the sun and enjoyed the tranquility of the morning. I had a feeling I wasn’t alone. I opened my eyes, and there stood Fluffy. She’d followed as far as the doorway.

“What?”

Fluffy looked back at Missy, who was in the kitchen chowing her scoop of food with one side of her mouth, while managing to drool out the other side at the same time. I’d have to clean the folds of Missy’s face again after breakfast. If I didn’t keep her clean and dry she’d develop dermatitis.

Fluffy returned her attention to me. I knew what she was communicating. Missy was noisy and messy. It was true. Bullies snorted, drooled and passed a lot of gas. But it was that imperfectness that I loved so dearly.

“Sorry, Your Highness, you’ll have to deal with it.”

Unimpressed, Fluffy backed up a couple of steps, then disappeared inside the house.

Once I’d finished my cereal, I shuffled back into the kitchen. I rinsed out my bowl and set it in the sink. I’d worry about the dishes later. Or maybe I’d get lucky and Caro would “drop by.” I
was
in possession of the brooch, which meant she was bound to show up eventually. I had a new hiding place for the pin.
Way
better than the cookie jar.

No one truly understood our competition over that Godawful heirloom. Not even Grey. But the brooch was all we had left of Grandma Tillie. She’d had this way of making us feel special, as if we were the only ones she really loved. It was possible that Grandma Tillie knew the brooch was the one thing that would keep Caro and me together.

Enough sappiness. I had more pressing issues. First things first, handing off Fluffy.

I’d lifted Cliff’s number from Mona’s phone last night. I headed to my bedroom and unplugged my cell from the charger. Bless her heart, Missy had followed me, snorting and shaking her head, leaving a trail of water and slobber on the hardwood floor.

I grabbed a hand towel from the master bath and quickly wiped up the slippery mess. I found a dry edge to blot the folds around her nose. Once she was clean, I tossed the towel onto the bathroom counter.

“Cross your fingers, girl.” I punched in Cliff’s number. Missy tilted her head, and we both waited as the phone rang and rang.

“Hello?”

I gave Missy the thumbs up. “Hey Cliff, it’s Melinda. Melinda Langston. I—” It suddenly dawned on me he might not know about Mona. “Uh, I just wondered if you’d heard about Mona?”

“Yeah. The police called last night.” He mumbled like he had a mouthful of rocks. Or I’d woken him up from a drunken stupor.

“I’m sorry,” I said.

“The well’s officially run dry. Not that I’ve seen a single penny in the past month.”

Fluffy suddenly appeared in the hallway. I frowned at her as she shimmied her way in between Missy and me.

“Mona paid you support?” That was news to me.

“It was a private matter.”

I could hear the clinking of ice against glass and then a slurp. You know, that slurp men thought was appropriate when they drank Scotch. I’m no prude, but 10:00 am was a little early to be drinking.

“I had no idea,” I said.

“That’s why it’s called private,” he ground out.

Good grief, he could compete with Mona for Jerk of the Year.

Missy slipped beneath the bed looking for a cool spot to take a nap. Fluffy sprawled out at the foot of the bed, watching me with her intense eyes. I turned my back on her and cleared my throat. “Well, the reason I called was to arrange a pick-up time.”

“For what?”

“Fluffy.”

His dark manic laughter burst into my ear. “She’s as big of a pain in my ass as my ex. Unless it’s cash, Scotch or a trip to Vegas, you don’t have anything I want.”

I walked into the bathroom and closed the door, feeling the need for privacy. “But you have joint custody.”

“I only fought for custody so I wouldn’t have to pay Mona dog support. It bugged the hell out of Mona that I had her precious Fluffy.”

That rumor was true. What a cad. “But you’re supposed to take her every Wednesday.”

“I was. Now she’s yours.”

“No.” I shook my head. “Fluffy is not my responsibility.” I did not have the patience to take care of a high maintenance dog.

“Possession is nine-tenths of the law,” he said. “If she doesn’t get her afternoon snack, she’s a real pisser. Good luck.”

The line went dead.

As Grandma Tillie used to say, “He makes a hornet look cuddly.” No wonder Mona kicked his butt to the curb.

I opened the door a crack and peeked into the bedroom. Missy had come out from under the bed and was now lying alongside Fluffy, staring at me as if I’d lost my mind hiding in the bathroom. I closed the door so I could think without being stared at.

Now what?

BOOK: Get Fluffy
6.97Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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