Get Fluffy

needed to talk to some other people first,” I said quietly.

“Cliff is going to freak out.”

“I’m sure he already knows.”

Darby shook her head, her blond curls bobbing in unison. “If he knew, Fluffy would already be in his possession.”

Good point. “Owen did say the will stipulates Fluffy’s money can only be spent on her care. Well, except for the insurance money.”

“There’s an insurance policy too?” she squeaked.

“Mona had two insurance policies, but Fluffy was only the beneficiary of the smaller one. He wouldn’t go into detail about the other.”

“I’m afraid to ask, but how much?”

“One million. Can you imagine?”

“No. I can’t.”

“Me either. Why in the world would she make me the caretaker?”

Darby reached over and stroked Missy. “Be careful. Once word gets out about Fluffy, Cliff will change his mind.”

“Owen said if I want to be legally removed as guardian, I have to file some paperwork. The process could take a while.”

“Melinda, this is weird. What are you going to do?”

“I have no idea. Fluffy’s not my kind of dog. I’m sure there’s someone out there who’d love her as much as Mona did.” I looked over at Snob Dog. I felt compassion, but not the overwhelming connection like I had with Missy.

“What did Grey say?” Darby asked.

“He’s out of town on a buying trip. I haven’t told him yet. He really misses Colbalt. Maybe he’d like to foster Fluffy.”

We laughed in unison. I couldn’t really see Fluffy at Grey’s place.

“Where’s Grey this time? Somewhere exotic? I’m so jealous.”

“I don’t remember,” I lied and looked down at Missy. Darby was sure to interpret my actions as missing Grey. I hated keeping secrets from my best friend.

We sat in silence for a few minutes sipping our drinks.

“Oh, I almost forgot. I’m being sued,” I said.

Darby’s head jerked up. “By who?”

“Tova. For a million dollars.”

“Why?”

“Apparently, she lost a Sports Illustrated photo shoot because of flea bites on her legs. She is suing me for compensation for Kiki’s treatment, lost wages and mental anguish.”

“That’s ridiculous. Who’s representing her?”

“Some ambulance chaser. I’m sure as soon as he figured out I’m part of the ‘Texas Montgomery’ clan, he immediately saw dollar signs.”

“What are you going to do?”

“I called Nigel, the family lawyer. He said it ‘probably’ won’t go anywhere, but he did urge me to counter sue.”

“For what?”

“For defamation of character.”

I could only imagine Mama’s reaction to this whole mess. If she thought the Miss America humiliation was bad, she’d go into hiding when she learned about a flea lawsuit.

We both looked at Fluffy who suddenly sat up and thought it was appropriate to lick herself in public.

“The world’s gone crazy,” Darby said on a sigh.

“You ain’t just whistling Dixie.”

Chapter Sixteen

For now, it seemed there was no way out of caring for Fluffy. I broke down and decided to pick up a few of her personal items. I’d called Malone, and he’d said the house was no longer a crime scene. He’d also mentioned Camilla, Mona’s housekeeper, was there to inventory Mona’s estate.

During our brief conversation, it had dawned on me, Malone had known all along I was Fluffy’s new guardian, and he hadn’t said a word. He was very good at keeping secrets.

I dropped off the dogs at home, then drove over to Mona’s. I parked the Jeep (I’d switched to the hard top earlier that morning) and skedaddled to the front door.

I rang the bell and cringed. Hopefully the new owner would replace that thing.

The door opened, and there stood Camilla in slacks and blouse. She looked very attractive. I wondered if she’d burned the unflattering black uniform Mona had insisted she wear.

“Hi, Camilla. I came by to pick up some of Fluffy’s things.”

“Miz Melinda. You bring Fluffy?” She stepped back and welcomed me inside.

“I left her at my place. I didn’t think bringing her home was good for her. Did you know Mona named me Fluffy’s guardian?”

“Si. I hear.” She closed the door. “I have Fluffy’s things for you.” Her light accent echoed throughout the palatial foyer.

I followed her to the sunroom. Sure enough, it was packed to the top of the white crown molding with Fluffy’s belongings. The luxurious couches and tables were covered with boxes, crates and leaning stacks of dog stuff. There was more inventory here than I carried during tourist season.

Brushes, combs, hair clips, hair products, dog food, Waterford crystal dog bowls. Blankets, toys, CDS, DVDS, clothing, a dog bed, pillows, pictures. You get the idea.

Lord have mercy, there was no way it would all fit in my Jeep. “I don’t need all of this.” I waved my hand at the mess in front of us.

“These are Fluffy’s belongings. You must take them.”

“I’d have to rent a moving truck to get this back to my place. Even then I wouldn’t have room for everything.”

She nodded. “Miz Mona spoiled Fluffy.”

Or Mona was a hoarder. Either way it was obvious she was two sandwiches short of a picnic.

“Tell me what I absolutely must take.” I refastened my ponytail, securing all the stray hairs around my face and sighed. “Everything else can stay here until I figure out what I’m going to do.”

“You not keep Fluffy?” her accent grew more pronounced. She shook her head and pointed a finger at me. “You have to. Miz Mona trusted you to keep Fluffy safe.”

“What do you mean, safe?”

She crossed herself. “She trusted you.”

“How do you know?”

She just stared at me with that knowing look that said people in her position knew more than they should, but she wasn’t one to gossip.

“You might as well talk. Mona’s dead. She can’t punish you for spillin’ the beans.”

She wrung her hands, obviously nervous to repeat Mona’s words. “She said you were impulsive, had no fashion sense, and sabotaged your one shot at success.”

Mona had a lot to say. Just because I preferred jeans and t-shirts (today’s shirt read, Sit Happens), didn’t mean I wasn’t fashionable. I didn’t argue the other two. They were pretty accurate.

“She also said you wouldn’t ever use her Fluffy.”