Till Death Do Us Bark (19 page)

“So you think they slept together?”

“Oh, Lord, of course they did. Probably right there on that huge couch. I’d expect nothing less from a man who tried to screw a sixteen-year-old child.”

Ellie stared at the picture while Viv’s words sank in. The likeness, painted from Adrianne’s butt to the top of her head, had her body turned just enough to showcase one curvy breast with a fully erect, pink-tipped nipple. Now that she understood what Viv meant, she realized the provocative expression on Adrianne’s face was more of a see-what-I-can-do challenge to her older sister than a teasing expression for Dr. Kent.

“How long do you think the affair went on?”

“Best guess, almost from the day she arrived to paint the artwork in Arlene’s house.”

“Three weeks, and Arlene never caught on?”

“Guess not. She was probably so hopped up on drugs and wedding plans she had no idea. And the sleazy doctor, well, he might have figured it was one last fling before he tied the knot . . . or until the next opportunity presented itself.”

Ellie rolled her neck to work out a kink. “I never thought I’d say this, but I’m relieved the man is no longer with us.”

“I imagine a lot of those women looking for happy pills said yes to his advances just so they could get their drugs.”

“That’s no excuse for a woman having sex with a married man,” Ellie said. “Believe me, I went through it, and I don’t think I can ever forgive Cherry for sleeping with my ex.”

“It takes two to tango, kiddo.”

“I’m well aware of that, but I can’t imagine any woman sleeping with Larry Lipschitz, CPA extraordinaire, because they needed to have their taxes done or their checkbook balanced. At least he and Cherry got married.”

“Lucky her. Now she’s the one who has to work her ass off with a personal trainer and keep her hair highlighted and her makeup perfect twenty-four/seven.”

“And live without a dog.”

“Cherry Abrams wanted a dog?”

“I don’t know,” said Ellie, shrugging. “But I think about it sometimes, and figure it’s exactly what she deserves for doing what she did.”

“Wow. I’m impressed. I think that’s the first totally mean thing I’ve ever heard you say about anyone.”

“And I already feel guilty for it. I can’t imagine anyone who loves dogs having to live without one.” Ellie sniffed back a tear. “I’d have no life if I didn’t have Rudy.”

“You’d have Sam.”

“I doubt it. I only met Sam because I was walking dogs, and I never would have done that if I didn’t have my boy.”

“Hmm. Maybe you owe Cherry a huge thank-you. If she hadn’t slept with the D, you wouldn’t have found them in bed together, and you might still be dogless and married to a dickhead.”

Ellie grinned, though she knew she shouldn’t. “When you put it that way . . .” She turned her head and again faced Adrianne’s backside. “What are we supposed to do about this?”

“Do?”

Ellie raised an eyebrow. “Yes, do. Should we call Adrianne on it or tell Arlene? I can’t believe she’s never been in here to see it.”

“Like I said, Adrianne probably only did it over the last three weeks, and big sis was too busy planning the wedding to pay attention.” Viv stood and put the chair back where she found it. “Guess we should go to the house and get ready for dinner. I don’t want anyone to come here looking for us until we decide how to handle this.”

Ellie righted her chair and followed Viv to the foyer. Once there, she locked the office door. They walked to the exit, picked up their tote bags and the umbrella, and headed back to the house.

She had a lot to think about. Worse, knowing what she did, she had to quiz Adrianne about the night of Dr. Kent’s murder.

 

Vanessa, Evan, Vivian, and Arlene drove into Bridgehampton after dinner looking for a shop that sold ice cream. Adrianne cried off, saying she had a headache, and Ellie saw her chance for some time alone with the middle McCready sister.

“Adrianne, can you give me a couple of minutes before you go to the cottage?”

Stopping in her march to the stairs, Adrianne tugged on her formfitting, off-the-shoulder top. The night was cool, Rosa and her daughters had cleared the terrace table, and there was no one else around. “I guess.” She planted her shapely butt, clad in tight black capris, in a chair. “What do you want to talk about?”

Ellie tried for a smile. “The night of Dr. Kent’s murder.”

“I figured you’d get around to me eventually, but I really have nothing to say.”

“You were upstairs in the cottage when he was killed, correct?”

“Yes, but I’d been asleep. The party gave me a headache, and I took a muscle relaxant to get rid of the tension. Detective Wheeling knows all this, by the way, and he’s satisfied that I can’t be of any help in the case.”

This headache thing was getting old. Ellie couldn’t believe a woman like Adrianne wouldn’t be more creative when she lied. “Dr. K gave you the drug?”

Adrianne smiled, but it was forced. “Of course.”

“Do you think you were the last person to see him alive?”

“I doubt it. There were a couple of patients in the waiting room when I left to go upstairs.”

“And you never heard an argument?” Ellie asked, thinking of what James Bond had told her.

“The music coming down from the house sort of muffled things and the pill knocked me out. Sorry, but that’s about all I can say.” She stood and walked to the stairs. “I think we’re done here.”

“Viv and I were in Dr. Kent’s office today,” Ellie said, hoping to see some reaction from the woman.

Adrianne slowly turned around. “Really? Did you find anything interesting?”

“I had hoped to find a clue to his killer. Instead we saw some very engrossing artwork.”

“I imagine you did.” Her smile reminded Ellie of a snake. “Marty loved that self-portrait. He said he’d never take it down. He told me it held the secret to his success. Marty—”

Myron’s chatter echoed that of a woman in the throes of passion, and now that Ellie had been around her for a while, the voice reminded her of Adrianne’s.

Nostrils flaring, Adrianne shot the African gray a dirty look and huffed out a breath.

“So you and Dr. Kent had sex in his office.” Ellie made the question a statement of fact. “When Myron was in the room.”

“The little pecker watched everything. According to Marty, he was very entertaining. Some of his patients liked to try to make him talk, especially when the stupid bird would repeat things in their exact voice.”

“But you didn’t enjoy it?”

“It wasn’t on my how-to-get-a-laugh list, but who cares? That bit of passion could be any woman’s voice.” She turned back to the stairs. “And if Arlene figures it out, what can she say?” Stomping down the steps, Adrianne disappeared.

“What a piece of work.”
Rudy crawled out from beneath the table, where he’d been sitting at Ellie’s feet.

“I know. Poor Arlene, trusting her sister without knowing she’d been sleeping with her fiancé.”

“Makes Vivie look like a champ, doesn’t it?”
Rudy spouted with a yip.

“Makes my girl rise ten levels above the rest of her dip-wad family,”
T said with a growl.
“Vivie is tops in my book.”

“You know I agree with you. I just wish there was some way to make sense of this mess.” She dug a pen and her spiral pad out from her bag. She’d never asked Sam exactly what it was he wrote in his many tablets, but now she wished she had.

“Guess I have to look at my notes and see if anything else makes sense.”

She’d written the name of every person who’d been at the party, starting with the immediate family, then given each of them a page for notes. The four R guests had been Viv’s job, as well as an aunt and uncle, their children, and Elsie and Connie. She’d received Viv’s report on each of them and scribbled a “no comment” on every page.

Flipping to her suspects, she checked all she’d written after her talk with family members Arlene, Vanessa, Evan, and now Adrianne. She copied what she remembered of Adrianne’s explanation of the painting, ending with “Marty said it was the secret to his success.” Odd that he said the painting was the key and not Adrianne herself, but did it really make a difference?

She still had to corner Julio, Tomas, Maria, Teresa, and, just to be thorough, Uncle Mickey and Dr. B. Tomas was already in jail and his knife was found at the scene. It was easy to imagine the hot-tempered young man having an argument with Dr. Kent over his younger sister and threatening him with a knife.

Could he have dropped the weapon in a scuffle, followed the doc out, and found his father waiting? Would Julio have been angry enough to shove Kent so hard he went flying backward and smacked his head?

Both men knew the area. Tomas had lived there off and on for years, and Julio maintained the property. Surely he’d taken the route on the far side of the cottage, where it was hidden from view, a hundred times before. They could have run around the parking lot and steered wide, then entered the main house through the front and acted as if they’d been inside all along. With so much activity going on outside, who would see them?

“I can tell you’re thinkin’.”
Rudy sniggered.
“There’s smoke comin’ outta your ears.”

“Very funny.” Ellie gazed at him. “You’re not keeping anything from me, are you? Did you notice anybody heading down the walk to Dr. Sleazeball’s office during the party?”

“Those pains in the butt, Greta and Coco, were yapping. Kept trying to get Mr. T and me to play, but we ignored them.”
He put his paws on her thigh.
“I saw a coupl’a men walkin’ down the path as the night wore on, but I’d never recognize them by their backsides.”

“How about a scent? Or their hair?”

“Too far away when we saw ’em,”
said T.

“Maybe if you took me to the dog psychic, Madame Orzo, she’d help me remember,”
Rudy whined.

“There’s no time for me to get you back to the Village for a session with the woman. Just use your own brain and think, but not too hard. Something might come back to you.”

Ellie wrote what little she could on the pages. She had to speak to Julio, and there had to be some way she could question Uncle Mickey and Dr. B without arousing their suspicion. Adrianne had been no help, but—

What was it Adrianne had said? She’d gotten a sedative from Dr. Kent, and when she left his office two or three patients were still in the waiting room. Who were they, and how could she get their names?

Glancing up, she noticed that the outdoor lights had automatically brightened, which meant darkness was almost upon her. She stood, prepared to go into the house and turn on the lights for the terrace; then she heard footsteps. Rudy and Mr. T growled at the same moment and stalked slowly to the stairs.

 

Ellie flipped on the rear lights and James Bond blinked in the surprising glow. Wearing a more formal but still resort-casual dark green T-shirt and khaki pants, he looked as handsome and cocky as ever. He straightened at the bright flash, his dark eyes focusing on the back door.

“How did you get here?” she demanded.

“I walked down the beach, of course, and followed the path up. You have a problem with that?”

She stepped onto the terrace. “No one’s home, so you might as well leave.”

His full lips curved in a grin. “You’re here, aren’t you?”

She propped her back against the doorframe. “Yes, but I’m not in charge of the house. I can’t let you in and I’ve already answered all your questions, so—”

He pulled a folded piece of paper from his back pocket and snapped it open. “Oh, but you can let me in. I have that search warrant Ms. Millman challenged me to get.”

Growling, Rudy and T scuttled in front of him.
“We got him, Triple E. Say the word and he’s toast.”

When the dogs threatened, Agent Bond took a step in reverse and slapped his hand over his lower back. “Hey, call off the mutts!”

Ellie stifled a smile and tried for serious. “There’s no need to reach for your gun, Mr. Bond. They’re just protecting me.”

“He’s sweatin’. I can smell it,”
Rudy snarled.

He stared at the dogs for ten seconds, then slowly moved his right hand back to his side. “How about calling me Jim? This whole Agent Double O Seven thing is getting old.” Before she answered, he waved the warrant, his voice all business again. “And I can assure you this is on the level.”

“You want to use it now? Tonight?” Detective Wheeling had already searched the house. What was Agent 007—Jim—looking for? “A little late, don’t you think?”

Keeping an eye on Rudy and T, he took a step closer. “The local cops gave me the findings on their search, and they collected only one computer, which Kent kept in his office. I’m hoping to find something smaller, maybe a PDA, whatever he used to store his records in. The desktop had none of that, but I need the personal one. I’m hoping to find it in Kent’s home office.” His lips thinned. “I also want to check out Ms. Millman’s medicine chest for myself.”

“And I’m supposed to let you in?”

“You could, but it’s not necessary. The door isn’t locked and you and the dogs won’t block my way—” He stopped when Rudy and T began a second round of growls. “Come on, call off the mutts and cooperate.”

She had no right to refuse him. He was an agent for the DEA and the doctor was dead. Jim had already told her he wasn’t interested in finding the murderer. All he wanted was a look at Kent’s personal records so he could capture the rest of the slime in the doc’s drug ring. But she did feel protective of Arlene, who, aside from that one negative comment about weight, had only been polite and kind to her, and she was trying to repair the relationship she had with Viv.

Ellie gazed at the guesthouse and saw the lights on the second floor. “Adrianne is in the cottage. Why don’t you talk to her? She’s a family member, and she could let you in.”