Never Say Sty (11 page)

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Authors: Linda O. Johnston

BOOK: Never Say Sty
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“I’ll see what I can work out.”
“And you’ll be willing to talk about your HotPets stores as well as the pet rescue organizations?”
“Of course.” Dante twirled pasta around his fork and raised it to his mouth. “Offcamera.”
Corina opened her mouth to object but closed it again. The guy obviously didn’t like being oncamera, and if she pushed now, he might rescind his open invitation. Or so I assumed.
Why was he so determined not to be shown on the TV screen? That was another question mark in the mystery that was Dante.
Corina apparently got the message—no on-the-record interviews. We finished our meals chatting amiably about animals, and Corina engaged Dante in additional verbal sparring. Soon, it was time to argue over the tab. Rather, Corina and Dante did. Corina could charge it off as a business expense. Perhaps Dante could, too. In any event, he could clearly afford it. And even if I could arguably chalk the charges off as business, I was too busy saving for a new car to enter into this affable argument.
Dante won—or lost, depending on how you looked at it. The treat was on him.
As all five of us, dogs and all, started strolling down the street, Corina’s cell phone rang. “Oops. Got to run.” She sounded disappointed.
Dante walked Lexie and me to our car, parked a block away.
“I’ve been meaning to ask,” I said, “since you have so many contacts with people who deal with animal issues, could you recommend any who might have suggestions on dealing with dog separation anxiety?” Maybe someone would come up with an idea that the Jeongs hadn’t yet tried.
“For Lexie?” Dante knelt and let my Cavalier come close. I smiled fondly at them as I bent over to give mega attention to Wagner.
“No,” I replied while snuggling the German shepherd. “It’s for a legal case I’m working on.”
“I’ll ask around,” Dante promised. “But a couple of good sources might be our remaining judges. Matilda’s a pet psychologist, of course, and Eliza, with her pet-oriented radio show, might have referrals if she has no answers herself.”
Of course I’d thought of that, but now I could drop Dante’s name before requesting a discussion with them. And if I happened also to sound them out about Sebastian’s murder . . . why not?
“Thanks for the great suggestions,” I said.
Dante stood up and smiled. “You’re welcome. Oh, and if you figure out that either one or both is guilty of murdering Sebastian, would you give me a heads-up before calling the authorities? I’m already working with Charlotte to find one replacement judge, and if we need more I’ll want time to deal with it.”
“What makes you think I’d figure that out?” I demanded. I hadn’t told him I’d be investigating this killing. How had he jumped to that particular irritating conclusion?
“How many murders have you solved in the last few months, Kendra?” he inquired smoothly. “By my count, it’s over half a dozen. I figured that adding Sebastian’s to your lengthening list would be child’s play for you.”
“A pretty nasty child,” I retorted. Still, I felt a strange frisson of pleasure, combined with nervousness. For whatever reason, Dante had spent some time learning about me.
Well, I’d learn even more about him tomorrow, when I reaped the fruits of Althea’s computer hacking on my behalf.
And would see Jeff Hubbard, too. That thought quickly quashed my good mood. It was a confrontation I wasn’t exactly anticipating with eagerness.
Dante, the dogs, and I soon reached my rental car. I opened the door, and Lexie hopped in.
“I pictured you in something bigger,” Dante said, staring at my leased wheels.
“Me, too,” I told him. “And I’ve been looking. But I’ve needed something to drive while I decide on a replacement for my BMW that got creamed.”
He nodded, then bent toward me. My heart sped up like a racing car. He kissed me, hard. I kissed him back, harder.
And as I finally got behind the wheel and started to drive away, I realized that my mind was absolutely bemused . . . by Dante DeFrancisco.
Maybe I’d avoid him in the future, letting others involved with
Animal Auditions
keep in primary contact with him.
Or . . . maybe not.
Chapter Nine
WHEN LEXIE AND I arrived home, I didn’t see Rachel’s car. Not her dad Russ’s, either, though that was the usual state of affairs. As a studio location scout, he was nearly always on the road seeking suitable locales for film shoots. But I’d hoped to speak with my assistant at Critter TLC, LLC, about how her pet visits had gone that day, as I always did.
I also wanted to make sure she was dealing as well as possible with the ongoing excitement about being on-air hostess of
Animal Auditions
, especially now, when it was on the news for the wrong reasons. Plus, even if she hadn’t been overly fond of Sebastian—who was?—it was always a shock when someone you knew was suddenly erased from your life . . . especially by murder.
But all that would have to wait, for now. I didn’t want to call her and give my concerns greater emphasis than happening to run into her and asking. And we had exchanged our daily minimum chat on who was caring for which pet first thing this morning.
“Okay, girl, this is your last chance to empty yourself tonight,” I told Lexie, who immediately acknowledged the idea by squatting at the side of the driveway. Fortunately, no poop-cleaning detail was required. And then we headed up the steps beside the garage to our over-the-top apartment.
Exhausted, I vegged out on my comfy beige sectional sofa in front of the TV, Lexie in my lap. The nightly news didn’t mention
Animal Auditions
or its deceased judge. And
National NewsShakers
wasn’t on until tomorrow morning after I headed for my morning pet calls, so I’d simply have to trust Corina not to breach the confidentiality she’d promised Dante this evening. She did have
some
scruples, after all. More important, she was intelligent. She knew that if she wanted any shot at on-air interviews with Dante—or any scoops, should I be the one to unearth the killer—she’d need to stay discreet.
I’d showered and started for bed when my cell phone sang. I froze at my bedroom door, staring at the phone on my nightstand as if it was suddenly coated with slime.
Okay, so I’d agreed to meet with Althea tomorrow. That meant seeing Jeff, too. And this was the hour he’d always called when we were together.
Grab it anyway, Kendra
, I ordered myself. I wasn’t a coward. Even more, failing to fix the situation immediately could lead to additional unwanted calls. I strode with determination toward my bed, a puzzled Lexie at my heels.
I grabbed the phone, preparing to say something nasty . . . until I glanced at the number on the caller ID.
Not Jeff’s.
Dante’s.
Was I about to embark on a similar series of pre-bed discussions with the new man in my life?
Was
he in my life?
No doubt about his being a man.
“Hi, Dante,” I said. “Did you forget to tell me something? We were together only—”
“Fifty-seven minutes and ten seconds ago. Eleven. Twelve.”
I might have felt an enormous amount of affection for a guy who paid attention to something as trivial—and as potentially important—as the time we’d been apart . . . if he’d sounded happy about it. Instead, he sounded pissed.
“That seems about right,” I responded cautiously.
“I’d no intention of giving a damn, Kendra.” His tone was curt and cutting. “You’re not the kind of woman I want to be thinking about constantly. You’re pretty, you’re sexy, and you’re smart—all that’s just fine. But you’re nosy—partly by profession. You’re a lawyer.” He spat that out as if he’d just used the most obscene epithet in the English language.
Maybe he had.
“And you’re—” I started, unsure what I intended to say. Something sounding equally repulsed. At least that was my plan.
“Hear me out,” he interrupted. “You’re also friendly with the media. And the cops. You’re a murder magnet, for crying out loud! Which means I should be avoiding you. But I’m thinking about you. Too much. And, heaven help me, I want you. For all your shortcomings, you’re sexy.”
“You’re repeating yourself,” I said coldly, though the more this sexy guy referred to sex and me in the same breath, the more my body simmered.
“Maybe if we just had some mind-blowing sex I’d be able to get you out of my system. Willing to give it a try? I promise I’ll make it memorable. And—”
“Cool it, Dante.” I suddenly started to laugh. “I’ve had obscene phone calls before, but this one wins the prize. Am I in lust with you? Most likely. Do I intend to act on it? No way. I’m afraid you’d be like dark chocolate.”
That stopped him for a second. “Bittersweet?”
“Addictive. I wouldn’t be able to stop at just one session to get you out of my system. So here’s the thing. We have a business relationship, thanks to
Animal Auditions
. And I’m honored”—yeah, right—“that you find me attractive or whatever. But let’s leave it at that. Thanks for calling. Good night.” The last I said lightly, as if he’d truly been a business acquaintance I’d spoken with during daylight hours about something utterly trivial. And then I hung up.
And thought long into the night about hot, animal sex with Dante DeFrancisco.
 
 
I CALLED RACHEL on the way to my morning pet-sitting visits, and we confirmed who was doing what. “You okay?” I inquired. “I mean, with all that’s gone on at
Animal Auditions
—”
“Charlotte and I are talking later. She wants to continue filming next week, with both potbelly and dog scenarios. We’ll need a new judge, but she’s working on that. It’s horrible, of course—what happened to Sebastian. But if anyone had to get . . . well, you know what I mean.”
Indeed I did. “I’m not sure that ‘The show must go on’ is always in the best of taste, but, hey, it’s my first real venture into showbiz, so I’ll leave that up to those of you who know what you’re doing.”
Okay, so she was nearly as new at this as I was. But she cared about showbiz and had been in a few commercials and minor productions. And I really liked the young lady, so giving her a few strokes was fine.
Lexie seemed as happy as I to visit Stromboli, Piglet the pug, and some of our other canine clients. And, yes, I had started to sit for the golden retriever—her name was Beauty.
Then, I headed for Doggy Indulgence to indulge my beloved Cavalier for another day.
Darryl was at the front desk checking canines in, and I couldn’t resist the dig that had become a daily routine. “So who is she?” I whispered as I stood on tiptoe to give him a greeting kiss on his smooth-shaved, skinny cheek. As always, he was clad in one of his green Henley-style shirts with a Doggy Indulgence logo on the pocket.
“Don’t worry about it,” he replied with his now familiar secretive smile. Which made me want to strangle the answer out of him.
That reminded me of Sebastian, who’d had the actual
life
strangled out of him. . . .
“Of course I worry about you,” I responded softly, my irritation in check. “Tell me.”
“Maybe someday. See you later, Kendra.” He started toward his office. I sighed, said goodbye to Lexie, and left. Darn the man! Why wasn’t he telling all to me, his best buddy?
After last night’s call from Dante, my concerns over Rachel and
Animal Auditions
, and my non-discussion with Darryl, I wasn’t exactly in the most wonderful of moods when I reached my law office. I nevertheless accepted the chirpy greeting from Mignon with a smile, then called the Jeongs to assure them I was still researching a solution for Princess’s separation anxiety. Next, I inquired about appointments with the two remaining
Animal Auditions
judges, explaining my legal issue with Princess in generalities. I was unlikely to be breaching client confidentiality by going into detail about this particular pup’s separation anxiety, but didn’t want to chance it.
Then I buried my nose in legal briefs for an upcoming court appearance . . . and attempted not to note the too quick passage of time.
But noon inevitably rolled around. That was when I had to hurry to Westwood to meet with Althea at the Hubbard Security offices . . . and to see said Hubbard himself.
Althea was first out of her office as I entered the central waiting area. “Jeff wants to take you to lunch, and then you and I can talk.”
I’d sort of figured lunch was in the intended schedule, since my appearance was to be at noon. Did I want to spend that much time with him?
Did I have a choice, if I wanted Althea’s information?
Just then Jeff strode out of his office. He was still one hunky dude, despite all the stuff he’d been through when he’d had to remain deep undercover to determine who’d attempted to kill him.
He had even hidden his presence from me. But that hadn’t been the worst of it. He hadn’t trusted me. And that had smashed my romantic interest in him to smithereens.

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