CHAPTER
seventeen 
BY THE TIME Marshmallow and I rushed after Kevin Walker, he’d already gotten his pickup truck rumbling. Marshmallow and I jumped into my car, but my hands paused against the ten and two of my steering wheel.
Would I be driving straight into danger? I could almost sense Josh’s concern from afar. But if I lost Kevin Walker’s trail, I might miss a key breakthrough.
Detective Brown’s stern and unbelieving face flashed through my mind. Since I didn’t want to go to prison, I ignored my reservations and let my reckless side kick in.
Thank goodness Kevin Walker’s clunker of a car took its sweet time moving down the road. We managed to follow him down several residential streets in my stealthier Prius.
After a few more turns, he parked in the driveway of another massive, spindly house. The new house, though, looked half-hidden by the thick green bulk of tall cypress trees. I wondered if the people who lived there planted them on purpose to provide shelter from prying eyes.
Deciding to block him in, I parked my Prius right behind Kevin’s truck. This way he couldn’t escape my questioning.
Kevin came out of his truck and slammed the door. Even through my rolled-up window, I could hear him fuming. “Why are you following—Hey, I know you. Aren’t you that renter?”
I exited my car and took Marshmallow out. How could I explain myself?
Kevin pointed at Marshmallow. “It is you. I’d recognize that cat anywhere.”
Marshmallow licked his fur. “What can I say? I’m unforgettably handsome.”
Kevin glared at me. “I don’t know why you’re stalking me. Must I call the police again?”
The hair on the back of my neck prickled. “Again? So you were the one who told Detective Brown about my visit to the house. Why?”
“You asked too many questions, seemed too interested in the previous renter. The cop told me to let him know if anyone suspicious showed up.”
I squared my shoulders and took a few steps closer to him. He backed against the side of his truck. “And what about you?” I said. “Heard you bailed on a client the same day Russ Nolan ended up dead.”
“Are you implying that I killed him?” Kevin straightened up and moved to the rear of his truck. “I don’t need to answer any of your questions, and I have work to do right now.”
Marshmallow sped past me and leaped into the bed of the truck. “Don’t worry, I know how to handle this.” He sat smack on the pool net and trapped his paws inside the mesh.
I smirked at Kevin. “I’ll call my cat off your equipment after you speak with me. I really don’t want to bother you, but I need to know what happened that day.”
Kevin looked back and forth between Marshmallow and me. He threw his hands up in the air. “Fine. I have a few minutes to spare. And nothing to hide. Ask away.”
I pulled myself to my full petite height and held his gaze. “Were you at the house that day?”
He took off his straw hat and fiddled with it. “I was. While cleaning one of my client’s pools, I heard the ladies gossiping about how Russ Nolan sold cute little dogs out of his house.”
“That’s when you rushed over to the house.”
He stuffed his hat back on his head. “Running a business out of my mother’s house was never in the rental agreement. And he’d been doing it under my nose.”
“I get it. You were understandably upset.”
He turned and kicked at one of the truck’s tires. “When I first went over, I was hopping mad. Wanted to toss him out on the street. But then he apologized nicely to me.”
“You just let it go?”
“I’m a businessman,” Kevin said, giving me a lopsided smile. “Russ used his finances to smooth things over with me.”
Moola. I wondered how much it had taken to smooth over the situation. The destruction of keeping a houseful—or, rather, a roomful—of dogs would cost a pretty penny. Way more than the typical security deposit would cover, I bet.
Kevin Walker did seem like a man who could be swayed by money. And even without the extra bribe, I realized it didn’t make sense for him to get rid of solid rental income.
I wrinkled my nose. “What time were you at the house?”
He turned his head to the sky, seeming to stare at the pointed tops of the cypress trees. “Night had just set in. I remember turning on my headlights as I neared the house.”
That would be shortly after I left the premises, when I’d seen Russ Nolan’s house bleached an ominous white. “And when did you leave?”
His eyes flicked toward Marshmallow, who continued to stand his ground. In fact, my cat had his claws out and was toying with the mesh. “I spent ten minutes there, tops. Returned to my client as soon as possible to patch things up. Besides, Russ himself wanted me out fast.”
I exchanged a look with Marshmallow. “Why’s that?”
“The man was expecting a lady friend.” Kevin gave me an exaggerated wink. “He said he’d even bought some wine for the occasion.”
My mind flashed back to the discarded glass bottle I’d spotted in the trash the other day. Kevin’s claim might explain why Detective Brown had dismissed my theory of a man as the killer. The cop had been focused on catching a female murderer instead.
“That’s all I have to say.” Kevin crossed his arms against his chest.
Of course, he could be feeding me lies to get me off his case. But I didn’t have anything else to ask him.
I beckoned to Marshmallow. “Come along now.”
Marshmallow took his time to get up and disentangle himself from the pool net. Then he shook his body with vigor.
We left Kevin shaking his head at all the white fur deposited over his pool equipment.
I took Kevin’s story with a grain of salt. If I could get some sort of clear evidence that he’d gone back to work, I would trust his claim more.
Of course, I did have a friend who could steer me true. Pixie St. James, the wonder-ruffic sponsor of Hollywoof, had connections to all the ritzy pool owners in the beach areas and beyond.
Pixie agreed to my spur-of-the-moment visit. As I drove up the winding roads to Hollywood Hills, Marshmallow spoke up from the back seat. “You’re lucky I don’t get carsick.”
I rolled down my window to let the wind rush in. “Want me to drive faster so you can really feel the breeze?”
In the rearview mirror, I noticed Marshmallow closing his eyes. “Just because I can handle winding roads doesn’t mean I enjoy seeing objects whiz by me.”
I slowed down the Prius. Even if I wanted to, I probably couldn’t zip up the steep, curvy incline with my little car. Besides, I liked taking in the grand scenery at an unrushed pace. If I squinted into the distance, I could even make out the iconic white “HOLLYWOOD” sign.
As I approached a higher altitude, I remembered why people paid big bucks to live at the top. Even the monotone color of the parched shrubs surrounding the road gleamed with wealth. Instead of looking dry, they made the hillside shine a brilliant gold. And I couldn’t begin to fathom the ethereal beauty of the city lights from this vantage at night.
All of the elegant houses were barnacled to the hilltop as though by sheer willpower. Spaced tasteful distances apart, they echoed modern geometric art installations. Many displayed cool rectangular edges, but I spied a pyramid structure as well.
Pixie’s own oval-shaped house shone like a gem in the sunlight, polished to perfection by multiple renovations, including sparkling floor-to-ceiling glass windows to show off the view.
Pixie had grown up “privileged,” as she called it. Her great-great-grandfather had passed down the family business to her. Now she took the lead as CEO of his company and had even expanded its reach across international borders. An advocate of flexible hours for all her employees, she often telecommuted.
Upon hearing my knock, Pixie flung the door open and embraced me. I caught her signature scent: a custom blend of cinnamon and cloves.
She released me from her hug and asked, “Who’s this handsome fella?”
I introduced Marshmallow to her, and she scooped him up. He didn’t unleash his claws as she cuddled him. Instead, he sniffed the air.
“Pumpkin spice,” I whispered.
Marshmallow snuggled in Pixie’s arms. “No, I think it’s the comforting essence of unbridled wealth.”
I choked a little, and Pixie looked at me with concern. “You must be parched. How about a drink?” She put down Marshmallow and walked through her enormous house with her typical graceful stroll.
Marshmallow’s head turned this way and that. I wondered if I’d exhibited the same awestruck manner the first time I’d visited. The multiple columned hallways leading to hidden spaces and the sleek travertine floors had overwhelmed my senses back then.
With its amazing flourishes and fabulous decorations, Pixie’s house reminded me of a museum. Everything in it seemed like an invaluable piece of art.
When we arrived at the kitchen, I wondered for a moment if I should stand instead of sitting down at her inlaid mother-of-pearl breakfast bar. But the fancy bar stools with their ergonomic cushions looked so comfortable. I sank down into one of them.
Pixie offered me a refreshing iced tea, infused with hand-picked herbs from her garden. Hexagonal ice cubes floated in the glass she gave me. Marshmallow even got something to drink: a bowl of volcanic filtered water.
I tried to remember if I’d seen any signs of her cute shih tzu prancing about in this labyrinth of a home. “Where’s Gelato?” I asked Pixie.
No sooner had I said his name than a fluffball came springing through a doggie door leading into the back garden. He slid a little on the smooth floor in his excitement.
I crouched down to his level and greeted him. In return, he jumped up and began licking my face. “You sure are a sweet treat.”
Marshmallow grumbled. “A literal kiss-up, you mean.”
After a prolonged patting session, Gelato seemed satisfied with my affection. The shih tzu moved on to Marshmallow.
Scrutinizing my cat, Gelato circled him several times. Then the dog wagged his tail with abandon before settling down a few inches from Marshmallow to watch him drink.
Pixie and I were finally free to chat.
“Thanks for letting me come,” I said. “Knowing your full schedule, I hate bothering you.”
Pixie placed her drink, a frothy pink concoction with a raspberry on the rim of the glass, on the counter and sat down beside me. “It’s my pleasure,” she said. “I wish we could see each other in person more often, actually. Plus, I’ve been meaning to check in with you about Hollywoof. Did you make some good connections at Lauren’s yoga class?”
“Sure did.” I swiveled my stool to face her. “I even went to a doggie pool party recently. Maybe I’ll get some leads from that, too.” After all, I had placed my cards on the side table.
“Pool playdates,” Pixie said. She ran her finger down the stem of her glass. “We don’t go to those anymore. Gelato feels too intimidated by the big dogs. Plus, after the Catalina Island mishap, he’s still hesitant about being near any body of water.”
I scooted off the stool and petted Gelato on his head. “You know, I’d rescue you again in a heartbeat.”
He pushed his nose into my palm, and I stroked his fluffy ears.
Returning to Pixie at the counter, I said, “Even though you two aren’t into pool parties anymore, you know about that crowd, right?”
She plucked the raspberry from her glass and held it poised in the air. “I keep tabs. Why?”
“For the pool party, I went to the house of Indira Patel—”
“Her name sounds familiar. Ah, I know. She designs those luxury fanny packs.”
“Yes, that’s her. While at her house, I saw the pool man, a Kevin Walker. Have you heard of him?”
“Walker . . .” She popped the raspberry into her mouth.
“He’s really tan. Wears a straw hat about this big.” I used my hands to indicate its dimensions. “Owns a rattling truck. And I heard he ran out in the middle of a pool job to check on his rental property.”
Pixie snapped her fingers. “Ah, yes. Heard about that through the grapevine. People love to go on about their domestic dramas. He almost got fired on the spot, but the pool owner forgave him after he returned to finish his work and apologized.”
I took a big gulp of tea and let its coolness clear my head. “When did he show up again?”
She twirled the pink liquid in her glass. “That same evening, in fact. He wound up having to clean the pool in the moonlight. The pool owner admired his tenacity. Plus, he gave her a month of free pool services. That helped his cause.”
My heart sank. So Kevin hadn’t been lying. He had gone to Russ Nolan’s and come back quickly.
Pixie squeezed my hand. “What’s all this about, anyway?”
Did she really need to know about my run-in with the law? She’d invested in Hollywoof, essentially entrusting me with a huge chunk of money. Would she find me less trustworthy if she knew the trouble I’d gotten myself into? “It’s nothing,” I said, draining my glass.
Pixie gave me a quizzical look.
“I’d better get going,” I said.
Peeking over at Marshmallow, I no longer found him by his water bowl. Instead, he lay a few feet away, asleep on a soft mat, which seemed to be vibrating.
I nodded at my snoozing cat. “What’s he napping on?”
She flicked her wrist toward him. “That’s the doggie massage mat. But I guess it works on cats, too.”
I tiptoed over to Marshmallow and picked him up from the luxury mat. It turned off after I retrieved him. Must be triggered by weight.
I said goodbye to Pixie and trudged over to the front door carrying Marshmallow. Wow. He really could stand to lose a few pounds.
She wedged an envelope into my cat-filled hands. “Whatever you’re dealing with,” she said, “it sounds like you might need a break. A night out. Here are two tickets to a local fundraiser for a nonprofit that’s right up your alley.”
Pixie opened the front door but paused on the threshold. “Mimi, we’re friends, not just business partners. You know you can tell me anything.”
I gave her a tight smile. “Maybe in the future. I think I need to deal with this on my own for now.”
Pixie’s concern was sweet, but I couldn’t involve her. I mean, I hadn’t even mentioned a word to my own family.
Which reminded me. Family night was fast approaching. I shuddered.
It was easy to tell my loved ones about good news, like my relationship with Josh, but I didn’t want to let slip anything negative. They all counted on me to be the eldest, the model daughter and sister. I couldn’t let them down.
As I dragged a comatose Marshmallow into the car, I pondered over the info I’d gotten from Pixie. Kevin Walker hadn’t lied about returning to work on that same evening. Had he also been speaking the truth about Russ Nolan’s love life?
The breeder had been expecting company, waiting for a lady visitor. Who might it have been? Could that woman have seen something important—or even have been the killer herself? I knew one nosy neighbor who might have the scoop.