Putting on the Dog (43 page)

I held my breath, expecting her to continue to deny everything. Instead, she glanced around, as if wanting to make sure we were still alone—and that no one could hear us.

“Since it’s just the two of us,” Kara said coolly, “and since you seem to have figured the whole thing out, I’ll tell you precisely why I did it, Jessie. No one would ever believe you, anyway. Not if the only ‘evidence’ you have is a silly rhinestone. After all, there are dozens of people who could have killed Barnett. That slimy blackmailer had lots of enemies. If I hadn’t killed him, sooner or later somebody else would have. I just happened to get to him first. His greed started getting out of hand once he found out my career was about to skyrocket. Just a few weeks ago, he arranged for us to meet so he could tell me he was tripling my payments! I couldn’t afford to risk him going public with what he had on me. It would have meant the end of my career. I couldn’t let that happen, could I?”

Her tone was no longer matter-of-fact. Instead, it was ice cold.

“As for the incident with Delilah, that was nothing personal,” Kara went on. “It was just business. She had something I wanted: the starring role in
Day of the Unicorn.
I simply had to have that part. I was meant to play Catherine the Great. It’s exactly what I need at this point in my career.” Shrugging, she said, “I knew from my agent that I was the studio’s second choice. At that point, it was simply a question of getting their
first
choice out of the way.”

“You’ve been quite a busy lady, haven’t you?” I observed.

“I’ve always had to work my butt off for everything I ever got,” she replied nastily. “You have no idea how competitive the movie industry is. Besides,” she went on, her voice practically a growl, “I did everyone a favor by killing Barnett. That creep was as low as they come. I deserve a medal for what I did.”

“Unfortunately, a jury might not agree.”

The voice sounded muffled, since it came from the other side of the burgundy-colored velvet curtains. But I knew immediately who it belonged to: Lieutenant Anthony Falcone.

Kara gasped as he emerged from behind the thick folds and stepped toward her.

“What—what is this?” she sputtered. “Who are you?”

“Lieutenant Anthony Falcone, Norfolk County Homicide,” he replied, holding up his badge. “And you are under arrest for the murder of Devon Barnett. Anything you do or say may be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to consult an attorney....”

“How could you hear us?” she demanded.

“Microphone,” he answered matter-of-factly. “Somebody hooked up the sound system. The mike’s probably hidden somewhere in these curtains.”

Clipped right onto the fabric, I thought smugly.

“But—but you don’t understand!” Kara insisted. “I was
acting
! Everything you just heard me say was from a script I’ve been considering! I was just trying it out to see if the dialogue sounded realistic!”

“It sounded realistic, all right,” Lieutenant Falcone said. “Very realistic. Like I started to say, anything you do or say may be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to consult an attorney....”

Kara whirled around to face me. “Jessie, is this
your
doing?”

“No, Kara,” I replied solemnly. “It’s
yours.
”

Falcone, still reciting the Miranda rights, took a step closer to Kara, holding out a pair of shiny silver handcuffs I figured he’d gotten from one of the local cops patrolling the estate.

It’s over, I thought with satisfaction. Now all I have to do is find out where she stashed Max....

As if thinking about a furry white dog had been enough to bring it on, Anastasia suddenly lunged into our midst from out of nowhere. The giant borzoi leaped between Kara and Falcone, emitting a frightening snarling sound as she lunged toward the police lieutenant, raising herself up on her two back paws and thrusting eighty pounds of solid muscle against his shoulders.

Caught completely unaware, Falcone reeled backwards from the force. Still, it only took him a second to regain his composure. By then, Anastasia had positioned herself in front of her mistress, growling menacingly and daring her attacker to get even a single step closer.

Falcone aimed his gun in her direction. I could see by the hard look in his dark eyes that his instinctive reaction was to get rid of the dog—fast.

“No!” I cried. I stepped forward, my own instincts taking over.

But my interference wasn’t necessary. Falcone was fast, but Kara was, too. Anastasia’s protectiveness had bought her the few seconds she needed. The slender blond ducked behind the curtains, vanishing inside the fabric’s thick folds.

“Is there another way out of here?” I demanded.

“Don’t worry. She won’t get very far,” Falcone returned.

I wasn’t so sure. I charged toward the burgundy-colored drapes, flailing around blindly in an attempt at grabbing hold of her before she got away.

Then let out a shriek of surprise when I felt hands grab me from behind. Before I could react, a pair of arms wrapped around my waist as tightly as one of Raffy’s snakes. I gasped, feeling all the wind rush out of me.

“Since you got me into this,” Kara hissed, her mouth close to my ear, “you can get me out.”

She began dragging me away from the curtains. Even though I squirmed as hard as I could, trying to wriggle out of her grasp, she turned out to be much stronger than she looked.

Her iron grip only made me struggle harder. But my gasps turned to hoarse choking sounds as she crooked her arm around my neck and squeezed. I struggled desperately to catch my breath, snorting loudly and blinking hard to stop myself from seeing stars.

“You may recall that I played a prostitute who moon-lighted as an assassin in
Woman On The Brink
,” she growled. “I trained with a Marine drill sergeant for six weeks!”

“Convincing movie audiences that you’re tough and actually
being
tough are two different things!” I shot back in a rasping voice.

“Maybe you’ll find this more convincing.” I suddenly felt something cold and hard at my temple.

A wave of terror rippled through me. At the same time, I was vaguely aware of the sound of something large and heavy being dragged. Kara loosened her grip and I managed to focus on what was going on around me.

Once again, I saw stars. But this time, it was a different variety. Someone—Falcone, probably—had pulled open the curtain. Beyond the apron of the stage was an entire galaxy of stars, their eyes wide as they watched the scene that was unfolding before their eyes, their expressions reflecting a mixture of astonishment and horror. Behind them, I could see photographers and reporters from the Long Island and New York City television stations clustered together. The bright lights shining from the video cameras indicated they were getting every second of this drama on tape.

I felt Kara tense up again, tightening her grip on my throat and pushing the barrel of her gun harder against my temple.

“You all knew what a bastard Devon Barnett was!” she yelled, this time addressing her shocked audience. “How many of you was he blackmailing? We all have secrets! We’ve all done what we had to do to get to where we are! Deep down, do any of you really blame me for what I did? Can any of you honestly say that you haven’t thought about doing the exact same thing?”

“All right, it’s over,” I heard a soothing voice behind me say. It was such a switch for Falcone that it took me a moment to realize who it belonged to. “Just put the gun down, Kara. You’ve had your say.”

Instead, she pushed it more deeply into my flesh. “What’s the penalty for killing two people, instead of one?” Kara demanded, her voice shrill. “How much worse could it be? If I have even a small chance of getting away, why shouldn’t I take it?”

She started to shuffle toward the edge of the stage, dragging me with her. I noticed that a few of the men in the audience were rising to their feet, as if getting ready to take action.

“Let them go,” Falcone instructed the audience coolly. “Nobody move. We’re not going to mess with her when there’s a hostage involved.”

Wait a minute!
I thought frantically.
That hostage is
me!

My mind racing, I told myself he didn’t mean it. He
couldn’t
mean it. He had to have a plan. Or at least he was buying himself time.

If Falcone did have a plan, I certainly didn’t know what it was. With the entire room looking on, Kara began pulling me down the stairs, off to one side of the stage, one step at a time. By this point, many people had left their seats. They stood in clusters along the edge of the theater, watching with alarm as the two of us shuffled down the aisle toward the doors along the back wall.

“If I see one person try to leave,” Kara called out, “or one person take out a cell phone, this nosy veterinarian is history! At this point, I’ve got nothing more to lose! I
mean
it!”

The room was perfectly still. No one spoke and no one moved. And then, a tiny flicker of motion caught my eye. I suspected that Kara was still focused on the crowd, watching to make sure no one tried anything. Not wanting to tip her off, I forced myself not to turn my head to get a better look. Then I noticed more movement out of the corner of my eye....

All of a sudden, it was as if a giant bird swooped down from the sky, directly behind us. I realized that something was swinging in our direction, using one of the ropes I’d seen backstage. I couldn’t see exactly what was happening, but I heard Kara let out a howl of surprise. I also heard deep-throated grunts that sounded vaguely familiar.

Most important, I felt Kara loosen her iron grip on me.

Without pausing to think, I wrenched myself out of her grasp, at the same time twisting my body around so that I faced her. I reached down and grabbed the gun. Holding onto it with both hands, I pointed it at her heart.

It was only then that I was able to figure out what had happened. Less than a foot away from me, Kara stood paralyzed by the pair of strong arms that gripped her— arms that belonged to Hugo Fontana. I realized he’d managed to sneak backstage, most likely before the curtain had opened and maybe even before Falcone had made his grand entrance. Then, at just the right moment, he’d swung across the theater like Erroll Flynn or some other swashbuckling movie star by grabbing onto one of the ropes hanging backstage. He’d used it to plow into Kara, feet first, surprising her and knocking the wind out of her—and giving me a chance to break away and grab her gun.

“It’s
really
over now,” I told her. I gripped the gun, holding my hand steady and trying to look menacing, even though I questioned whether I’d ever have the nerve to use it. Thanks to Hugo and his powerful biceps, I wouldn’t be forced to find out—at least, not this time.

“Barnett deserved it!” Kara spat out her words, breathless as she twisted from side to side in a futile attempt at getting away from Hugo. He, meanwhile, looked as if he hadn’t even broken a sweat.

Lieutenant Falcone looked just as calm as he stepped over to her, holding out the handcuffs once again. “For the
third
time, you’re under arrest for the murder of Devon Barnett. Anything you do or say may be used against you in a court of law. You have the right— Dr. Popper, you can put that gun down. In fact, why don’t you give it to me?”

“Let go of me, you stupid, macho brute!” Kara demanded through a clenched jaw.

“Yeah, right,” Hugo muttered.
“In your dreams!”

Somewhere behind me, I heard a woman sigh. “That Hugo Fontana,” she cooed wistfully. “He’s all man!”

I struggled to suppress a smile as I handed the gun to Falcone.

“
Jessie?
What the hell is going on here?”

I turned and saw Nick rushing down the aisle, his face tense with confusion and concern.

“I’m okay,” I assured him. “Everything’s fine—” And then I let out a whoop of joy. Emily had come rushing in behind him with a very squirmy and disheveled Westie in her arms.

“Jessie, look who we just found!” she exclaimed.

“Max!”
I cried.

He immediately leaped out of her grasp and into my arms.

“Oh, my sweet little Maxie-Max!” I cried, tears of joy sliding down my cheeks. They disappeared almost immediately as my beloved Westie covered my face with kisses. I felt as if the giant clamp that had been gripping my heart for the past thirty-six hours had finally been released. “You’re okay! You’re
alive
!”

Emily looked puzzled. “What do you mean?” she asked, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose. “Why wouldn’t he be?”

“How did you ever manage to find him?”

“I didn’t. Lou did.”

“ ‘Lou’?”
I repeated.

Emily nodded. “Nick and I were taking a walk along the beach, back behind the house. When we got to the wildlife preserve, Lou started going nuts. At first, I figured he was excited about the birds or some of the other animals that live there. But he headed right toward that storage shed that’s stuck out in the middle of nowhere. It’s this funny little wooden building with a ‘No Trespassing’ sign on it. It’s covered with weeds, and it looks like nobody’s been in it for ages. Anyway, he really went crazy, barking and jumping around, and I finally opened the door to show him there was nothing inside—and there was Max, barking
his
head off!”

“Oh, Max,” I cried, burying my face in his soft fur. As he covered my face with dog kisses, I murmured, “I
knew
you were all right. You
had
to be! I couldn’t imagine things turning out any other way!”

I turned to Kara. “Thank you so much for leaving my dog unharmed. I’m glad that at least you had that much compassion—”

“Compassion had nothing to do with it,” she replied icily. “That little beast was my last bargaining chip. I figured if you ever did manage to make a connection between Barnett’s murder and me, I’d be able to use your dog’s safety as leverage.”