Part 5 (1/2)
”If they do, Lenny Santucci will blow a gasket. There's nothing more frustrating than being mentally ready for a compet.i.tion and then the contest being postponed. He probably thinks Pickles is guaranteed the win if Zippy doesn't race.”
”Lenny's intense,” Darby mused.
”Here comes dreamboat.” Betty made kissing noises.
Grey approached us with a confident swagger that had been missing minutes earlier. I smiled. He must have received good news. He'd ditched his suit jacket and had rolled up his sleeves.
”Welcome back.” Darby's gaze swung between Grey and me, obviously unsure of what to make of his unexpected appearance. ”I thought you were out of town.”
”The seller changed his mind.”
”I'm sorry.”
He shrugged it off. ”That happens. I'm going to take a look around. Betty, describe the woman who has your gun.”
”She's a mess,” she said without missing a beat. ”A walking fas.h.i.+on disaster.”
This coming from the woman whose purple eyebrows looked like smeared grape jelly.
Grey smiled. And this time his smile reached his eyes. ”Let's start with the basics. How tall is she?”
”Tall. Like Cookie.”
”Okay, that's good. So, about five-eleven. What color are her eyes? What about her hair?”
Betty tapped her top lip with her finger. ”Well, she's got ratty black hair. Short, like a boy-or one of them punk rockers. I think she's got brown eyes. No, green. Definitely black. Black eyes.”
Betty would make a horrible eyewitness.
”Grey, she has a dachshund tattoo on the back of her neck.”
”And she's got that movie camera,” Betty piped up. ”Don't forget about that. We were going to be in her dogumentary.”
”A what?” he asked me.
”A dogumentary. The film is about wiener racing, so . . . ,” I trailed off with a shrug.
He rubbed his chin. ”I see. Well, the camera she can ditch. The tattoo is a little harder to get rid of.” He pointed at Darby's camera. ”What about you? You've had that all day?”
She held the camera toward him. ”Do you want to borrow it?”
”No, I want a copy of the memory stick before Malone confiscates it.”
”Do you think he'd do that?” She pulled the camera back, resting it against her chest.
”I would,” he said.
I shot Grey a confused look. I wasn't sure why he was being so helpful. I wasn't complaining, mind you. Just confused. Normally, he was the first one to let the police do their job while demanding I stay as far from the action as possible.
”Can we make a copy?” I asked.
”We won't. But no one will think twice if Darby's downloaded her photos throughout the day as a precaution.”
”I have online storage. I've already uploaded them, just in case.”
Grey smiled. ”Perfect. I'll be back.” And without a goodbye kiss, hug, or a slap on the back, he was off.
”Is he really going to look for the girl with the dachshund tattoo?” Darby looked as confused as I felt.
”I guess so. No offense, but I'm really tired of calling her 'the girl with the dachshund tattoo'.”
”What do you want to call her?” Darby tucked her camera in her messenger bag.
”Stephanie,” Betty stated.
What? ”Where did that come from?”
She shrugged. ”She reminds me of my youngest daughter's college roommate. The poor girl looked like she slept in a garbage can. She dropped out of school and managed to get herself into a girl band.”
”Was she any good?” Darby asked.
”Horrible. Stephanie got booted from the group eventually. Right after that, the band made it pretty big. Even got a couple records on the radio.”
Man, she knew how to drag out a story. ”What was the name of the band?”
”I don't remember. I think it was the Bye-Byes.”
Darby and I stared at each other. Yeah, I didn't think so.
Chapter Six.
MALONE HAD BEEN gone for over thirty minutes. Darby and I sat cross-legged on the lawn and watched the police. Missy stretched out next to me, her head in my lap. The longer Malone kept Betty waiting, the harder she stomped the gra.s.s as she paced, smas.h.i.+ng the thick green blades into a blanketed pathway between a eucalyptus tree and me.
”If he doesn't hurry up and get back here, I might have to turn him down for dinner.”
”He'll come back when he can.” I stroked Missy's head.
Betty continued to mutter as she paced. Finally, we noticed Malone heading in our direction. He wasn't alone. Darby immediately stood and announced she needed to talk to the event director, Hagan Stone, and split. Wise move on her part.
Malone introduced Officer Shughart to Betty.
”I have to go with her?” Betty pointed to the grim-faced female officer with the sleek ponytail, whose eyes were a little too close together to be considered beautiful.
”Yes.” If at all possible, Malone looked more stoic than usual. Or maybe, Betty had just worn him down. She had that effect on some people.
Betty slung her purse strap over her arm and huffed. ”No offense, cupcake, but I was kinda hoping Officer Hottie would be the one to frisk me.”