He motioned for the bartender to bring him another Bloody Mary. “Up until a month ago, she was giving me money.”
“That doesn’t sound like Mona.”
“I had a little leverage.” He leered at me as if I should be impressed with the revelation. “She was leading a fictional lifestyle. You know what I mean?”
Her and sixty percent of the US population. Way too many people living beyond what they could afford. “So you were blackmailing her?”
“Not at all. We had an agreement. Then she stopped paying me.”
“Why? Because you were sleeping with her best friend?”
He blinked, then laughed. Loudly. You know that annoying drunk-guy laugh? Only I don’t think he was drunk. Yet.
“Whoever told you I was boffing Tricia is crazy. I had the real deal, and I couldn’t stand her. Why would I want a cheap imitation?”
Wow. That was harsh. Accurate, but harsh nonetheless.
“So you threatened Mona?” I asked.
A rather charming smile appeared, and, for a moment, I caught a glimpse of what Mona may have seen in him. Then he opened his mouth. “I explained the situation. And out of the goodness of her heart she started paying me again.”
He was so lying. He was trying too hard to convince me.
“How’d she find the money?”
“How should I know? I didn’t care as long as I was getting what she owed me. She still owes me that dog.”
“You’re not getting Fluffy.”
“I’ll sue you,” he tossed out his empty threat.
We both knew he didn’t have the resources to take me on. “What’s stopping you?” I asked.
He glared at me and chugged the rest of his drink. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
“What about her art?” I asked.
“What about it?” he asked warily.
“Why’d she leave it to you? You live on a yacht.”
He sneered, “She had a twisted sense of humor.” He slid off the stool and threw a handful of bills on the bar.
“Is that why you killed her?” I asked before he could get away.
He didn’t bother to even look at me. “She was my cash cow. Why would I kill her?”
That was a very good question. “Maybe you weren’t planning on it. It just happened.”
He looked at me in complete seriousness. “Nothing just happened with Mona.”
And with that he waltzed out of Nick’s as if he didn’t have a care in the world. If the mob was after me, I’d be changing zip codes faster than you could say lily-livered pond sucker.
I’d just stepped outside when I heard someone call my name. It was Darby strolling down the PCH sidewalk with Fluffy.
I watched the two come toward me. Apparently Darby woke up this morning thinking she was impersonating Annie Hall in her wide legged trousers, white long-sleeved t-shirt and brown scarf tied around her neck like a tie.
For all their differences, Fluffy and Darby fit together. Her Highness was in go mode, prancing along side Darby. I had to give Fluffy credit for not tugging on the lead. Impressive. It also gave me an idea.
“Why in the world do you have her?” I asked as soon as Darby was within ear shot.
“I stopped by your place when Bow Wow never opened. I was worried.” Her face was flush from the brisk walk. For a moment she looked like the Darby I met two years ago. Fresh from the midwest without a care.
“And then what? Her Highness raced out the front door, hopped into your little Fiesta, and demanded that you take her for a walk?” I laughed, thinking about Fluffy riding around Laguna in a Ford. So different than her Jag.
“Not exactly,” she hedged. “She doesn’t seem to like your brother.”
I greeted Snob Dog with a pat. She shook off my show of affection.
“Did he guilt you into taking her?” I asked, offended on my friend’s behalf.
“I offered. I’m getting used to her. Was that Cliff driving off?”
“Sure was. He freely admitted he had a gambling problem and was indebted to a certain group of unsavory characters.” We fell into step. The Koffee Klatch was behind us, but there was a Starbucks up the street. I could still get my chai.
“Did he explain about the paintings?” she asked.
“No. But Grey’s working on that angle for us.”
“Grey?” she asked, surprised.
I filled her in on last night. She was also impressed I’d gotten Tova to drop the lawsuit, even if I had to pay her off in the process.
We were standing in line waiting on our Starbucks order when I asked, “How about the three of us visit a certain pet psychic? Mona’s last call was to Jo. I want to know what they talked about.”
“What if she won’t tell you?” Darby asked.
“Then I’ll ask her why she’s blackmailing Tricia.”
Chapter Thirty-Two
It was partly cloudy with a chance of clearing Darby’s name. I know, lame. The whole sleuthing gig was going to my head. But I could feel it in my bones. Today we’d dig up some clue to change the direction of Malone’s investigation. I still needed to call him.
To be honest, there was never a time I’d thought I’d step foot in Jo’s business. In fact, I hadn’t known she even worked out of an office building. I just assumed she’d worked out of her home. Imagine my shock to learn she had an office suite right off Forrest. It was so professional of her. So unexpected.
Our little trio squeezed through the door, Fluffy leading the way. This wasn’t her first visit. She wasn’t tense or showing the need to sniff around and investigate. Unlike me.
Jo stomped down the hallway with a supersized mug in her hand. “What do you want?” she barked.
I felt Darby flinch.
I couldn’t stop looking at Jo’s hair. Somehow it managed to be a rats nest and stringy simultaneously. It looked horrible. Actually, she looked bad from head to toe. There were dark circles under her eyes, and her shoulders sagged. Her whole demeanor was broken. Blackmailing people must be tiring work. Maybe Malone had already paid her a visit.
I pulled myself together. “We want a reading. Or whatever you call it.”
“Bull.” Her foghorn voice belted out the one syllable word. She pointed at Fluffy. “You brought the dog. This is a test.”
Apparently we were diving right in. “You can look at it that way if you want. But if you can convince me you’re legit, what better advertisement is there?”
“I don’t do séances.” She tilted her chin, daring me to challenge her.
“Neither do I.” I shot her my beauty pageant smile.
She rolled her eyes, disgusted.
Hey, that smile had won me a crown or two back in the day.
Jo brushed some crumbs off the front of her black t-shirt. “Fine. But you have to do what I tell you.”
I looked at Darby, and she nodded. “Agreed,” I said. Okay, I crossed my fingers behind my back.
We headed down the hallway to her miniature Dr. Phil office. A very long uninviting couch, a couple of overstuffed chairs, end tables. And boxes and boxes of tissues stashed within reach throughout the room. A staple for when you tell your clients they’re going to die.
“Sit,” Jo ordered.
Fluffy immediately sat on my foot. “Not you, girl.” I patted her head.
“Do we take the couch or chairs?” Darby asked.
“Whatever you’re comfortable with,” Jo replied with a vague wave of her hand.
Darby looked uneasy and headed straight for the couch. I followed her lead. It wasn’t my first choice, but hopefully we weren’t staying long. Lord have mercy, it was like sitting on plywood. I’d better not have any splinters in my butt by the time we left.
Fluffy paraded over and inched herself up against Darby. I shot a I-see-how-it-is glare at Snob Dog. I swear she smiled back.
Jo warily settled on a chair. She let out a pent up breath, closed her eyes and rolled her shoulders a couple of times.
“Why were you blackmailing Mona?” I asked.
She sighed and shot me a death glare with one eye open. “You’re not very good at this. You agreed.”