The Girl With The Dachshund Tattoo Part 14

I shook my head while I finished chewing. "Nothing. Although Darby did give him a copy of all her photos yesterday. He was very appreciative."

Darby scoffed. "I don't know about that. But he did mutter the words, 'thank you'."

"Does anyone want a bite?" I held up what was left of my sandwich. They both declined, and I was thankful. Darby and Grey made small talk as I finished my lunch.

"Have you seen Hagan Stone today?" he asked Darby.

"Oh, yes. I met with him early this morning. He's around here somewhere. Did you need to talk to him?"

He shook his head. "No."

"I noticed the two of you talking yesterday. I didn't realize you knew each other." She wiped her palms on her jeans as if she were nervous.

I watched Grey with a sideways glance, curious to hear his answer.

"We don't. I met him while looking for Betty's gun."

Darby's blue eyes blinked repeatedly. "Oh, it seemed like you were awfully friendly."

Grey's shoulders tensed. If you didn't know him, you probably wouldn't have noticed. But I did know him, and he was being very cautious with his answer. "He's a friendly guy. He was telling me about the dogumentary and how excited he was to have the promotion."

I frowned. That wasn't the story he'd given me. Grey was lying to one of us.

Darby grabbed her camera and messenger bag. "I've got to go. The race will start soon, and I want to shoot some pictures of the crowd beforehand."

"Is everything okay?" I asked her.

She nodded, a tentative smile pasted on her face. "I realized how late it's getting. Can't doc.u.ment the race without the photographer."

"True. Good luck. I hope today runs smoother than yesterday."

"Don't we all. See ya later, Grey."

"Good-bye." He waved as she walked away.

I cracked open the water bottle and drank deeply, washing down the last of my sandwich. "I'm surprised to see you."

He leaned against the table. "I had some unexpected free time so I thought I'd swing by. Where's Missy?"

"At the house. Yesterday was too much excitement for her. She'll be disappointed she missed you." I gathered my trash and looked around for a garbage can. Not seeing one, I said, "I'll be right back."

"Can't stand being alone with me?" Did he actually look worried or was that wishful thinking on my part?

I gestured to the budding crowd and excited dogs. "This is not alone. I'm looking forward to being alone with you later tonight." Feeling confident in our relationship for the first time in weeks, I kissed him lightly on the mouth without an ounce of hesitation. "Hold down the fort. I'm going to find a place to toss this before a dog sniffs it out. If someone stops, entertain them until I get back."

My stomach was full, and my heart was optimistic. I felt a huge goofy smile slowly spread across my mouth. I picked my way through the crowd toward the bright yellow barrel, thinking about the different possible endings of my dinner with Grey later tonight.

A blur of blue velour sped ahead of me, knocking a dog walker aside. It looked like Gia and Zippy. I bobbed to the right but lost sight of them after they slipped behind the Feline and Me tent.

I reached the trash can and pitched my garbage inside. Before returning to Grey, I decided to make a quick side trip in the direction where I thought I'd seen Gia and her dog dash off. Sure enough, they were there. With her back to the crowd, Gia bent over and poured the contents from her purple reusable water bottle into Zippy's special bowl. The dog lapped up the liquid almost as quickly as she poured it.

I wish I'd paid more attention to her when she'd rattled off his schedule earlier. Normally, I wouldn't be suspicious of an owner pouring her pooch a drink. But Gia had been adamant that whatever was in the bottle was hers. "Vitamin water," she had said. I wasn't so sure.

She'd purposely hidden behind a tent, away from public viewing, before giving Zippy his drink. What was Gia Eriksen hiding? My long stride ate up the distance between Grey and me at a quick pace.

It was possible I'd just caught Gia red-handed breaking the rules. I had to find a way to get that water bottle to Doctor Daniel.

Chapter Seventeen.

I HAULED MY BEHIND back to the booth, skidding to a stop in front of Grey who was leaning against the table reading email from his phone. I grabbed his shoulders and practically shouted, "I think I just saw Gia doping Zippy."

Grey looked up, surprised. "What?"

I tamped down my excitement. After stepping to the side, I pointed toward the Feline and Me booth. "Over there, behind the tent. Lenny might have been telling the truth. We've got to get Gia's water bottle."

"You're leveling a pretty serious allegation. Are you sure she was drugging him?"

What a joy-killer. I dragged my gaze away from where Gia and Zippy were tucked away like a couple of paparazzi-ducking celebrities. "Nooo," I dragged out the one syllable word. "That's why I said we have to get the water bottle from her. We need proof."

He didn't say a word. At least not verbally. I ignored his nonverbal cues and took his silence as an invitation to sway him to my way of thinking.

"Don't you find it odd that she hid behind the tents to give her dog a drink? Why be so secretive?"

"Maybe she wanted privacy."

"She could have gone to the veterinarian clinic or her car. What if Lenny was right? What if she's been cheating this whole time?"

He pocketed his phone with a sigh. "You're scheming."

"No," I lied, my eye twitching.

A wry smile settled on his mouth. "The eye spasm gives you away."

I pressed my fingers against my eyelid.

"You need to stay out of it," he said.

I sighed, frustrated. "Why? Why do I need to stay out of it? If Gia is cheating, aren't I just as guilty for turning a blind eye?"

He attempted to hide a pained look, but I saw it and recognized the furrowed brow for what it was-resignation.

"What did you have in mind?" he asked.

I wasn't one to gloat over a win. Believe it or not, I am willing to solicit suggestions if warranted. To be honest, my motives weren't one hundred percent pure. If I could find a way to get him emotionally invested in helping me, it might rebuild the trust I'd broken.

I stepped closer until we were an arm's length apart. I lowered my voice. "You're the FBI. What do you normally do?"

He crossed his arms across his chest. "First of all, I have facts, not a.s.sumptions. I get a warrant. And I don't go off half-c.o.c.ked. I have backup."

The air around us dropped twenty degrees. What was I thinking, consulting a process-driven rule-follower?

I stepped back. "We don't have three months to execute your standard operating procedure. We have an hour before the first heat. No pressure, but if you don't come up with a suggestion, I'll go with my idea. And we both know you won't like my grab-and-dash plan."

Grey and I stared at each other as he silently strategized. My plan was simple: confront Gia and make her hand over the bottle and contents for Daniel to a.n.a.lyze. I even had a backup plan if she refused: grab the container and run. It was plan B that I knew Grey wouldn't like.

"Unless she admits to cheating, Zippy will run in the race. If she is cheating, any possible fallout will come after today's event."

There were times when Grey's logic was rather deflating. This was one of those times. "I realize that's a possibility. But we still have to at least try."

I was so wrapped up in s.n.a.t.c.hing the water bottle away from Gia, I didn't notice Betty approach.

"Hey Cookie, Stephanie's here sniffing around the food. I called Officer Cupcake, like I promised."

Betty shuffled toward us as if nothing was amiss. But after one look at her, I knew that wasn't the case. She looked like she'd wrestled the last brownie away from a starved serial-dieter and had paid for it dearly. She wore elastic polyester pants (since when did Betty wear polyester? She's a cotton-and-silk type of gal), a wrinkled graphic tee with multiple stains, and gra.s.sy sneakers. Her straw handbag hung on her arm. Where were her silk printed pajamas? Her pearls?

Most importantly, where were her lipstick eyebrows?

All thoughts of Gia and the water bottle were pushed aside by my concern for Betty.

"Where have you been?" I wrapped my a.s.sistant in a hug. "Are you okay?"

Her small frame felt delicate in my embrace. Her coa.r.s.e white hair, which needed a good brushing, tickled my nose. I stifled a sneeze. As we hugged, I detected an unusual scent surrounding her. I quietly sniffed her shirt. Unless she'd bought a new perfume, she smelled like hamburger. Maybe she'd brought her lunch with her.

She patted my back then stepped away. "You're holding up traffic. How are we supposed to make money if you block the only entrance to our booth? Where is everyone?"

I gently held onto her arm. "Sweetie, I've been worried about you."

She brushed off my hand as if I were being overprotective. I suppressed my surprise at the large bruise developing under her paper-thin skin on the back of her hand.

"You don't need to worry about me. I can take care of myself," she a.s.sured me.

It sure didn't look like it.

She gave Grey an appreciative onceover. "Nice to see you again, handsome."

He smiled warmly as he made his way to her. "I'm glad you're here."

As she lifted her cheek for him to kiss, the neckline of her shirt dipped, exposing two long red scratches at the base of her neck. I couldn't let that pa.s.s.

"What's going on? You're dressed like a b.u.m. There are scratch marks on your neck. You never called me last night to let me know you made it home. And you were supposed to be at the shop hours ago."

She raised her hand to cover the sc.r.a.pes. "It's really none of your business."

You know what? I was tired of people telling me what was my business and what wasn't.

"Wrong. It became my business when your daughter showed up at the boutique, begging me to keep you out of trouble."

Betty snorted her disgust. "That child only thinks about herself. It's none of her business either. I'm a grown woman. I don't have to answer to anyone."

"No, you don't. Have you looked in the mirror today? You're a disaster. For goodness' sakes, did you really think I wouldn't notice you're wearing polyester pants?"

She cast a sideways glance toward Grey who was being unusually quiet.

"I-I fell. This morning," she admitted, never looking me in the eye.

"You're okay?" he asked.

"I'm fine."

I wasn't convinced that's all there was to it. But Betty had her own ideas, and she didn't like to be told what to do. I understood that about her. There wasn't much more I could do, except dispense some tough love.

"Alright. Then as your boss, I expect you to be at work when you're scheduled and dressed in your Betty clothes. Do you get what I'm telling you?"

She nodded. "I hear ya, Cookie. No more playing hooky. Ha. I made a rhyme." Once she was finished laughing at her pun, she shoved her hands on her hips and tsked. "You may be the boss, but you stink at displaying our products. No wonder we don't have any customers."

She hooked her straw handbag on the crook of her arm and stomped toward the haphazardly-hung dog leashes.

"I was a little pressed for time." Great. Suddenly, I was on the defensive.

"Humph."

As she pa.s.sed Grey, a dollar bill fell from her purse.

"Hey, you're dropping money." I picked it up.

She s.n.a.t.c.hed the bill then shoved into her purse, once again avoiding eye contact. I couldn't help but notice there was more cash inside her handbag. A lot more.

My eyes narrowed. "Betty, is your purse stuffed with dollar bills?"

She hugged her handbag to her chest. "I don't loan money to friends or family."

I lifted my eyebrows. "Please tell me you haven't been hanging out at the drag queen bar again."

"Oh, that's a great idea. I have plenty of tip money." She swiveled her hips. "I may have to leave early today. I love that Cher gal." She danced as she hummed a Cher tune.

Wait. Were those chili stains on her t-shirt? That would explain why she smelled like hamburger. Then it hit me. Oh. My. Gosh. I shook my head in denial, but I knew it was true. "Betty, have you been betting on the wiener races?"

She froze. Blinked a couple of times, then lowered her handbag to her side. "How do you know about that?"

I couldn't look at Grey, especially after I heard his groan of dismay.

"You have been gambling," he stated flatly.