Part 10 (2/2)
He chuckled. ”Removed me from your contact list already?”
An easy smile spread across my mouth. He was back. ”I thought about it. Are you at the gallery?”
”For a while. I thought you might want to grab lunch. Unless you're at the race.”
I stole a glance at Gia. She was digging through her purse, apparently not ready to walk away from her mountain of dog paraphernalia.
”Not yet. I'm finis.h.i.+ng up at the shop. Then I'd planned on heading over. Hagan asked me to come back and set up the boutique booth again. Are you coming to the dog park?”
Silence on the other end. Had he hung up? Or was he trying to come up with a decent excuse as to why he didn't want to come to the race? Most importantly, when had I started to sound so pathetic?
”Hagan asked you personally?” he finally asked.
”Yes, he was very sweet.”
”What time does the race start?”
I could hear faint voices in the background. ”Two. Is there someone there you need to take care of?”
”No. He's just looking. Did you find Betty's gun?”
I turned my back on Gia, fingers crossed she didn't grab her stash and run, but I didn't want her to overhear my conversation. ”Not yet. I thought if I got there early, I could look for the filmmaker.”
”How about dinner in Newport tonight?”
I nodded, eager to spend some time with Grey. ”That sounds great.” I studied my engagement ring. ”And then we can talk. Right? That's what this is all leading up to?”
”Yes. We'll talk,” he promised.
I closed my eyes and released a long pent-up breath. ”Okay. I'll see you tonight. 401 Chop Oceanside?”
”That's where I proposed. The second time.” I felt his smile as strongly as if he stood across from me. ”Plus they have the best lamb chops.”
We ended the call, agreeing he'd pick me up at eight. I shoved my cell inside my back pocket feeling very generous. Grey was ready to forgive and move on, and so was I.
”Gia. Here.” I held out her credit card.
It took her a second to accept it, but when she did her claw-like fingers wrapped around the plastic card like a lifeline. She stuffed it in her purse before I could change my mind.
”Why?” she asked.
”Weird stuff happens all the time. Technology can be finicky. What works today may not work tomorrow.” I pulled the toy she'd originally come to the store to find from the bottom of the pile. ”This is a good-luck gift from me and my bulldog, Missy, to you and Zippy. It's been a rough twenty-four hours. We all want a fair race, right?”
She looked pained. I immediately felt bad that she'd taken my comment as a dig about the doping rumors. I dropped the ball on the counter.
She bent down, picked up Zippy's leash off the carpet, and snapped it back on his collar. ”I heard you say you were looking for the filmmaker.”
I nodded slowly, steeling myself for a possible tirade. ”Have you seen her?”
”We were at the dog park earlier this morning, me and Zippy, working out. She was talking to that veterinarian.”
”What did you think of Dr. Darling?”
”He was exactly as you described.”
I'd accept that as an admission that I was right. ”Did you talk to her? The gir-the filmmaker?”
Gia frowned, channeling her inner desperate housewife. ”You could say that. She has a lot of nerve. She begged for an interview with Zippy and me, since he was the favorite. Of course, everyone knows he's the obvious winner. So, I agreed to meet. You know, doing my part to advertise the event. But that wasn't what she wanted to talk about.”
I cringed, pretty sure where this was headed. To be honest, it would be difficult to brush over Richard's death. Talk about real-life drama.
”I'm sure if you explained-”
Gia's eyes sharpened under her tarantula lashes. ”She accused me and Richard of doping Zippy. Can you believe it? My husband was just murdered and she wants to talk about why I won't willingly submit Zippy to a urine test. She shoved her camera right in my face and kept asking me over and over why it was so important to harm my dog in order to win a race. The nerve. I shoved her back and told her what she could do with her camera. I really hate that woman.”
I cleared my throat. I was pretty darn certain Gia was about to regret her actions. ”Was she recording when you attacked her?”
She stilled. ”Oh, h.e.l.l. I have to get that tape.”
Gia frantically scooped up Zippy and cradled him in her arms. At the last minute, she grabbed the treat ball. Without a word, she scurried out the door and disappeared down the street.
It looked like the girl with the dachshund tattoo, aka Stephanie, had some things a couple of us wanted back. I wondered which of us would find her first.
Chapter Thirteen.
BETTY NEVER SHOWED.
My calls continued to go directly to voicemail, while I continued to be concerned. Valerie's unexpected visit confirmed Betty had at least checked in with her daughter. I'd waited for as long as possible for my flighty a.s.sistant. I hung a sign on the front door informing customers they could find us at the Dachshund Dash, then closed up the boutique for the rest of the day.
Although the sun had burned off some of the morning fog, it remained slightly overcast with a chill gripping the air. I quickly swung by my place to let Missy out. She sniffed a few trees and a handful of bushes before she finally relieved herself.
”Do you want to go for a ride, girl?”
She peered up at me with squinty eyes, then trotted back toward the house, leaving me standing by the Jeep in the driveway. Apparently, she was pa.s.sing. I couldn't blame her. Her stubby legs had carried her stocky body a long way yesterday.
We walked back inside the house, Missy headed to the kitchen. She sniffed her food dish; finding it rather lackl.u.s.ter, she lapped up some water instead.
”Alrighty, girlfriend. I'll be back later.” I grabbed my Gap hoodie and black Moschino backpack from the couch.
At the last minute, I decided to print the photo of Fallon Keller that Darby had emailed me last night. I planted a quick kiss on Missy's head and reminded her to guard Grandma Tillie's brooch while I was out. Caro had to be aware by now that the heirloom was in my possession. She wanted the brooch as much as I did. In the past, we'd proven neither of us was above a little breaking-and-entering to get what we wanted.
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