She drifted into the kitchen. “By who? I didn’t tell a soul about Mona. She threatened to ruin my father’s business if I told anyone.”
Good grief, no wonder Malone was building a case around Darby. “Did you tell Malone she was blackmailing you?”
“Mr. DioGuardi barely let me say my name. Let Grey know I appreciate the referral, but I can’t afford his lawyer friend.”
I shook my head. “Oh, no. He took your case as a favor to Grey, pro bono.”
I jumped off the counter, slid my arm over her shoulder and led her into the living room. The whole situation got me thinking about Caro. Seriously, if she could survive “helping” the police, I would too. She’d dug around on her own and called in Malone once she’d put the pieces together.
Of course, she’d also had to fight off a psycho hit man at gunpoint, but I wasn’t about to get myself in that situation. I’d learn from Caro’s miscalculations.
Chapter Twenty-One
Darby stayed overnight in the guestroom. (Get this, Fluffy had slept with her. Maybe she could sense they were mourning the same person. Or maybe Fluffy was still trying to steal Darby’s coffee.)
Once we’d eaten breakfast and had walked the dogs, I’d convinced Darby to take the day off. There was no telling how much of what had happened last night had made its way into the gossip mill. One more day out of the spotlight seemed like a good idea. And I needed a dog-sitter.
It was a hair down kinda day. Dressed in Burberry Brit skinny jeans and an Armani Collezioni stretch silk top, I pulled on my motorcycle boots-ready to kick some booty. I grabbed my leather jacket from the hall closet and headed to Bow Wow.
I blew through the shop doors by ten-thirty, giving me a solid thirty minutes before I opened. I ran an inventory check on the computer, restocked a few shelves, started the complementary coffee brewing and checked my cell messages.
I had three voicemails, one from Owen, one from Mama, and the last one from Alex, Mona’s chauffer. Owen’s message was short, simple and swift. Be at his office today at three to discuss Mona’s will. Mama’s was short and explosive. Call her. Immediately.
Alex’s message was puzzling. He was stopping by the boutique to give me something. First, how’d he get my number? Second, what in the world did he have that I’d want? Mona had better not have a secret dog in hiding.
I’d hung the last of the large dog hoodies when my cell rang. Caught up in the task, I yanked the phone out of my jeans back pocket and answered automatically, “Bow Wow Boutique.”
“Melinda, are you at work already? Did you talk to Mitchell?” Mama’s voice boomed in my ear.
“Yes.” I cradled the phone against my shoulder and pulled a stack of pink small dog sweatshirts from the box. I’d already bought two for Missy. On the backside it read, “I Heart Mom.”
“And?” Mama asked, out of patience.
I hesitated and grimaced. “He was talkative.”
“I knew it. Oh, Melinda.” She sounded frantic. “I’ve left message after message for him for two days. He hasn’t returned a single call.”
I picked up the empty box and carried it to the counter. “Short of flying to Vegas, Mama, what do you want me to do?”
“Call his friends. Call his boss. Find him.”
Why she couldn’t do any of that was beyond me. Mitch was fine. He was probably doing what I typically did when she called, ignoring her. On the other hand, if there really was an emergency, and I blew off my brother because our mama was a drama queen, I’d never forgive myself.
“I’ll see what I can do.” I hung up before I changed my mind. I tossed the phone on the counter. Hopefully she’d forgotten the threat of a surprise visit.
How was I supposed to search for a brother who didn’t want to be found while clearing Darby’s name? And I still hadn’t dealt with Tova and her frivolous lawsuit.
Within minutes of opening Bow Wow for business, a distinguished older gentleman wandered inside. He was of average height and average build. His receding hairline framed a familiar face I was having a hard time placing.
“Hello, Ms. Langston.” His salt and pepper moustache smiled.
It was Mona’s driver, Alex. His khaki pants, buttoned-down shirt and tweed sports coat threw me. Normally, he wore all black, including a cute little driver’s cap.
“Hi, Alex.” I met him in front of the dog bowls and treat jars. He held out a strong hand, which I quickly accepted.
“How are you?” he asked.
“Trying to understand Mona’s dog. Do you have any advice?”
“Unfortunately, no suggestions. I would consider it a favor if you’d allow me to take her for a ride from time to time. She so enjoyed being chauffeured around town. Of course, you are welcome, too.”
“I appreciate the offer, but I’ll pass. Fluffy, on the other hand, is yours anytime you want. If you’d like to stop by for a visit today, she’s at my place, with Darby.”
I motioned for him to follow me to the coffee bar. “Coffee? Tea?” I offered. Southern hospitality was hard to deny.
“Coffee. Black. I heard about Ms. Darby. It’s true then?” His steady voice wasn’t judgmental, more that he was verifying a rumor.
I poured a mug of coffee and handed it to him. “It’s true,” I said. “There’s proof.”
He nodded, but there was something in his eyes that made me a little uneasy.
“The birth certificate,” he said.
“Did you know about it?”
“Not at all. Ms. Michaels was a private person. One did not cross the line between employee and employer.”
“I see.”
I filled my mug with hot water and tossed in a lemon. “Were you with Mona the day she died?” I asked, trying to put my finger on why the alarm bells were ringing in my head.
He sipped his coffee. “Unfortunately, Monday was my day off. I was playing the ponies with friends in Los Alamitos.”
“Did you win?”
“A couple hundred.” He flashed a self-conscious smile.
The Los Alamitos Race Track was about thirty-five miles northeast of Laguna. Depending on traffic and time of day, the drive was approximately forty-five minutes to an hour.
That wasn’t enough time to whack Mona and still make it to the track without being missed. It was doubtful Alex would find his name on my suspect list. Time for a new line of questions.
I know, I know. I promised Malone I’d stay out of his investigation. At the time I gave him my word, I had no intention of getting involved. But that was before Darby was suspect numero uno. I knew in my heart she was innocent. If I didn’t find real evidence to point Malone in a different direction, my best friend was about to find herself arrested.
So I did what I do best. I jumped in with both feet, eyes wide open.
“Do you know who might have wanted to hurt Mona?”
He shook his head. “The police questioned me. I’m afraid I didn’t have much to tell them.”
“What did you tell them?” I asked.
“Ms. Michaels and her ex exchanged words the week she died. Subsequently, she avoided his calls. Now that I’ve had time to reflect, she was acting quite peculiar really.”
“How’s that?” I leaned closer, practically begging for anything that might clear Darby.
