Howl Deadly (23 page)

“Exactly.” I smiled. “We’ll be around the area for a few more days, so when I stop in tomorrow, I can help brainstorm the details.”

“Thanks.” Megan rose and approached. She hugged us each in turn, even Lexie. “You two are really great,” she said to the humans among us. “You, too, Lexie. See you tomorrow, then. And, Kendra, be really careful, okay?”

I assured her I would, and then we left.

“What was that about?” Dante asked as we left the building.

“Nothing much,” I lied. “Tell you about it later.”

We drove separately, in a mini-caravan, to Dante’s mountain retreat. I did as I’d promised Megan—and myself—and kept an eye on the road and the others everywhere around me, making sure I saw nothing, and no one, that appeared threatening. At least I got no further phone calls. And I felt slightly relieved as the big wrought-iron gate closed behind us.

I hadn’t realized that I’d felt some sense of security while behind the chain-link fence around HotWildlife, but I had, rightly or wrongly.

Dante had brought Wagner along on this visit to his cabin, and the adorable German shepherd was obviously in ecstasy to see us—Lexie included. The two romped through the abbreviated yard and into the wooded area within the perimeter fence, then came back to join us almost immediately.

Dante didn’t have a personal assistant here, the way he did at his Malibu home with the wonderful Alfonse, but his staff on retainer kept his plush but rustic cabin clean and well-stocked with wine and food. At least one staff member showed up often when Dante was in attendance. None was around now, though. And we’d already decided to go out to dinner. Brody was supposed to meet up with us at the restaurant.

And so, a short while later, we headed back out through the gate. Lexie and Wagner had each other for company at the house, and they’d already been fed.

I rode with Dante in his Mercedes. I didn’t have to watch the road, but maintained my vigilance on everything else.

The restaurant was a nice steakhouse not far away. When we went inside, it was crowded and smelled great. Lots of people, white tablecloths, and wait staff in aprons over white shirts and black trousers. I loved it already.

Brody had booked a table, and sat there with a bottle of white wine in a chiller beside him. “Glad you could make it,” he said. “Although I was a little surprised you wanted to eat out tonight, Dante. Or do you have some undercover security guys here? I couldn’t tell.”

Oops. Apparently Brody assumed I’d told Dante about the latest threat. Dante’s initial confused expression, as he sat down after holding my chair out for me, turned thunderous. Toward me, although his response was to his longtime buddy Brody. “What are you talking about?”

Brody looked at me. “Didn’t you tell him?”

“Well . . . no. I didn’t think about it.” Not entirely true, and Dante would know it if he’d observed my watchfulness in the car. I aimed a smile intended to be charming toward my host and said, “I got a rather nasty phone call as soon as I pulled into the HotWildlife parking lot this morning.” I proceeded to tell him all about it, as briefly and lightly as possible.

Didn’t fool him, though. “I assume you’re taking this seriously, Kendra,” he said. “And now there’s even more reason for me to stay close. What time was it?”

I guessed as best I could. “To rule out possibilities, were all the people you were checking out from HotWildlife with you then?”

“Probably not. We split up sometimes to comb those woods, then met and exchanged notes. We can’t rule any of them out. But I’m more likely to think . . .” His voice trailed off, and he exchanged a look with Brody before both of them took a sip of wine from their respective goblets in gestures that appeared awfully decisive—but I couldn’t tell what they’d decided.

I was determined to find out.

Dante excused himself a short while later, just after we ordered our meals, to wash his hands.

“I wish you’d let me tell Dante about that call my own way,” I said accusingly to Brody.

“And you’d have gotten around to it when?” he retorted. I felt almost like I was acting out a role across from this handsome movie star. Certainly being under a threat from an unknown source was surreal, not actually me.

But then again, my involvement in solving several murders never quite felt like reality to me, even though it was.

We all were absolutely charming to each other as we ate our meal. Brody followed us home to Dante’s, and we all gathered, dogs included, in the log cabin’s living room to watch Brody’s
Rin Tin Tin
remake on one of the classic TV channels. As the star, he played a dog trainer and mentor to a young orphan adopted by an early American cavalry troop out west.

Dante left the room for a while after the film started. And I heard his raised voice from inside his office.

Fortunately, I’d seen before that Dante had no landline in this house. That meant he’d spoken on his cell phone.

I laughed along with Brody as he spat out commentary now and then about what had gone on behind the camera. Soon, Dante returned. His expression seemed a combo of smugness and rage. Interesting.

Despite my curiosity, I settled down and snuggled against him on the couch as the movie continued. When it was over, I gave Brody a quick kiss on the cheek in congratulations for an absolutely entertaining classic film.

We all soon headed for bed. Dante and I were both either too exhausted or too irritated to even think of sex. I waited a long, long time till I heard his breathing turn deep and even, signifying sleep.

And even then I didn’t move immediately.

But when I finally did, I sneaked to Dante’s side of the bed and retrieved his cell phone. I hurried to the bathroom, where I’d already hidden paper and a pen. I looked down the caller ID list. No name on the most recent call, but I was able to jot down the number.

I flushed the toilet in case I’d been heard, but Dante was still sleeping when I returned to the bedroom. I quietly slipped my note into a pocket of my purse that was already filled with papers, hoping to obscure it from all eyes but my own.

And tomorrow, I would use a reverse phone directory, or resort to Althea, to learn whom Dante had talked to.

 

 

I WASN’T SURPRISED to learn that the person Dante had palavered with on the phone was with the U.S. Department of Justice. Not too surprised, anyway. That was the info that Althea exhumed from her online sources when I gave her the 202 phone number that was clearly in the area of Washington, D.C.

Yes, I’d resorted to relying on Althea, partly because I couldn’t get a long enough time to hit the computer with Dante around. Plus, I was certain I’d get accurate info fast that way.

Dante, Brody, and I had discussed various plans of attack for the day, but no one had come up with anything definitively designed to discover who had killed Jon Doe. We had hung out at Dante’s home during the morning, and it had been one heck of a hard task to get any private time. These guys were great in most ways, including attempting to keep me safe. But it had been awfully hard to create time to contact Althea. And then to learn the results of her research and jot stuff down.

I’d even resorted to multiple potty breaks, which earned me curious looks from the guys, who obviously wondered whether I was well. Plus, Lexie and I went on a couple of extra outings for her, with Wagner along, too, even though she didn’t really have to avail herself of the lawn that often. Of course, we stayed inside the fence, and I kept watch for any movement outside it.

Hanging around the house for a few waking hours drove me a bit batty. I was used to running around pet-sitting. Loved my extra vocation and all the animals I cared for. Even loved cleaning up after them when necessary.

Well, okay, that was an exaggeration.

And now it was early afternoon. We had just left Lexie and Wagner in the charge of one of Dante’s local housekeepers and headed for HotWildlife, all of us piled in Dante’s car.

“So we’re going to just mingle among the remaining caretakers today and act like volunteers?” I confirmed as we pulled into the parking lot. “See if we can push any of them to give further info on Jon Doe and his friends and enemies?”

Though HotWildlife wasn’t the largest local animal sanctuary, it employed at least half a dozen people to ensure the inhabitants were fed regularly and right, and that their enclosures were clean and secure. Then there was a team of groundskeepers who kept the areas outside the habitats in good condition. Not all were necessarily on duty at the same time.

“That’s the plan,” Dante agreed. “We’ll meet up every hour or so to exchange what we’ve learned. I’ve already told Megan part of our plan, and she’s okay with our poking our noses into areas that she wouldn’t otherwise allow.”

“Is she really able to dictate rules to you?” Brody inquired drolly, then opened the door behind the driver.

“I may be chief contributor here,” Dante said, “but, like with my HotPets stores, I pretty well give my managers free rein, as long as things run smoothly. And as much as I like the animals here, Megan’s much more experienced in their care, so I definitely listen to her.”

And offer strong suggestions of your own,
I thought. Suggestions that amounted to orders, even if not phrased that way. That was a major part of Dante’s powerful personality—something I’d experienced myself. I thought it attractive and cute, most of the time. Especially when I simply followed the orders I agreed with and ignored the rest.

As always, I carried my large purse with me. Inside were my cell phone and a spiral bound notebook that contained my pet-sitting log. And other notes.

Including the name and phone number of the person whose identity Althea had found for me.

My habit had been to inhale the unusual animal odors of HotWildlife deeply as I entered the facility. No, I wasn’t nuts. It just felt like an appropriate intro to the creatures I’d soon see.

As we entered, Dante’s high-tech PDA sang out that he was receiving a call. He pulled it from his pocket and scowled at the caller ID. But his tone was level as he said, “Good morning, Sergeant Hura.” As he listened to Frank’s response, his expression grew even grimmer. “Of course, I’m willing to cooperate,” he responded. “I’m at HotWildlife right now. How about if I come by at around four thirty this afternoon? Yes, I can bring Brody with me.”

In a moment, he ended the call. “They have more questions because of some evidence he claims just came up. I’m going to call Esther Ickes to join us. Hopefully, she can make it. You should call your criminal lawyer, too, Brody. I had the impression that we might not be leaving for a very long time—or at least until we post bail.”

I wasn’t completely shocked, but even so . . . “They’re arresting you?” I asked.

“He didn’t exactly say that, but I wouldn’t be surprised.”

That made our planned outing here more critical. But would we actually learn anything helpful? I didn’t really think so.

I felt utterly depressed as we stopped in to give our greetings to Megan. What could I do to instantaneously assist Dante and Brody? I suspected that the call I intended to make might work the other way.

Next, I headed to the infirmary to peek in at the wolf pups. They were growing. I wasn’t sure at what age they needed to be fed regurgitated food, but figured that time was fast approaching.

The guys went on their ways without me, a good thing. One caretaker was in the back room of the infirmary, and I used the opportunity to question him about his opinion of Jon Doe. His name was Paul, and he didn’t seem excited about the interruption or interrogation. “I told everything I could to the cops,” he said, giving me the evil eye. “I didn’t know Jon well. He kept to himself. He did his work, and that was all the rest of us cared about.” He turned his back and hefted a big bag of food, obviously signaling that our discussion was over.

Not that such a thing ever deterred me. “Did anyone ever come here to see him? Did he talk much on the phone?”

But all I got was a shrug, so I gave up.

Besides, I had better things to accomplish. Like make the phone call I’d been dying to make.

I went outside to the rear of the infirmary and looked around. It was chilly here, and I stood on the dirt between the concrete building and the beginning of the lush sanctuary landscaping. I saw no one else. And of course I’d stay alert, just in case whoever had threatened me was present behind the facility’s fence.

I pulled my notebook from my purse and pushed in the number I’d stolen from Dante, armed with the information about its source that Althea had given me. I waited nervously for someone to answer.

“This is Gibson Callaway,” said a voice.

I took a deep breath before plunging in. I’d been pondering exactly what to say and how to say it, and all I’d been considering seemed to have evaporated. But I certainly knew the gist of it. “How are things at the Department of Justice today?”

“Who is this?” he growled, and his tone made me look around yet again. All I saw moving was a beautiful hawk circling overhead. I knew I wasn’t his prey, and I certainly hoped I was no one else’s, either.

“My name is Kendra Ballantyne, Mr. Callaway,” I began. “I think you may have heard of me, but in case you haven’t, I’m an attorney in Los Angeles. I’m also a good friend of Dante DeFrancisco’s and Brody Avilla’s.”

A pause. “So you can drop names well. What do you want?”

“Well, I’m unofficially looking into the murder of a man who went by the name of Jon Doe. I know you knew him under both that name and another. I’m still trying to confirm his former identity, and have narrowed it down to Jamison Dubbs and Jesse Dryler. Do they all sound familiar?”

“No. Not at all. What the hell do you want? Make it fast, or I’ll hang up.”

If none of this had rung a bell with him, I felt sure he’d have terminated the call immediately. I’d been careful to press numbers in to block his ability to use caller ID, but wasn’t sure how well it worked with a cell phone, or whether the government system overrode it. In any event, I’d felt it necessary to give my name, and he’d undoubtedly be able to find me.