I awoke to a ping from my phone. Iris was snuggled up into a little fluff ball between the pillows next to me. Without getting out of bed, I stretched from head to toe, arms over my head and toes pointed. Iris didn’t budge. I felt rested. The last thing I remembered was my head hitting the pillow like a felled tree.
Iris sprang into action as soon as I swung my legs out of bed. She had two settings: hyperactive and comatose. Hyperactive mode in full throttle, she pranced around on my California king bed for several seconds, soon thereafter adding intermittent soft barks. No smell of coffee brewing. Darn. I’d forgotten to turn on the coffee machine last night.
I checked my phone—eight thirty. Ashley had sent me a text: Want to meet up for coffee?
Perfect timing. I smiled and texted back I’d meet her in twenty minutes. And then I remembered. Yesterday. Esmeralda. The knife. The footprint. All the unsettling images came crashing back into my consciousness. I also remembered Adrian’s request to get the fundraiser donor list. I sent a quick text to Aunt Veronica asking her to send it to him directly. My aunt was good at her job and liked to help people, and I was hoping being of assistance to Adrian would make her feel better than she’d felt last night. As for my own current fragile state, coffee with Ashley was definitely the Rx I needed. Thank God it was the weekend.
I caught Iris in midair as she leapt off the bed and set her down on the hardwood floor, where she increased her game to full-on nonstop yapping, like a track on repeat. I quickly changed into gray sweatpants and a sweatshirt and jammed my feet into an old pair of chestnut-colored Uggs. I shuffled through the hallway to the living room, stepping over Otis, lying right in my way, as Iris dashed ahead, beating me to the door. Once outside, I forced myself to trot around the perimeter of my small backyard a few times to get my blood circulating while Iris darted around, looking for squirrels.
After about ten minutes, we headed back inside. I filled matching red polka-dot dishes with Iris’s and Otis’s respective premium kibble before I went back to the bathroom to brush my hair and teeth. By the time I’d returned to the kitchen, they’d eaten all their food, the cue for Iris to dance around me on her hind legs like a circus animal until I gave her a Greenie. She snatched it from my hand as if it were a relay race baton and scampered away, determined to leave everyone behind her. Otis padded out of the room after her in hot pursuit. I followed them into my office, where Iris was lying on her sheepskin bed gnawing on the Greenie propped between her paws, gloating, while Otis watched in envy. I made a mental note to order Otis some feline Greenies, but in the meantime, I found his catnip toy in his bed and threw it to him. He immediately started to play with it by wrapping his paws around it and kicking himself in the chin. After Iris finished, I dried off her chest fur with a paper towel and put on her leopard-print harness. I threw on a light quilted jacket, grabbed my purse in one hand and Iris’s leash in the other, and locked up before jogging the two blocks to the local Starbucks with Iris at my side.
Ashley was already sitting outside. “I just got here and haven’t ordered yet. I wanted to snag the last empty table.”
“Good thinking. What do you want? I’ll go order if you stay out here with Iris.”
“Hello, Princess Iris. How are you today?” Ashley bent down and scooped her up.
Iris commenced to slather Ashley’s face with kisses.
“I need to find me a man with Iris’s personality. She’s always happy and loving, worships me, and does everything I say. I’d like a nonfat latte, please . . . and I wouldn’t mind splitting a goody—your choice.”
“You got it.” Chuckling, I headed into the shop.
A couple of patrons ahead of me were finishing up their transactions, giving me time to peruse the pastry case replete with massive muffins, cinnamon buns, and croissants. I ordered and paid for two nonfat lattes and one huge pumpkin bran muffin—seasonal, yet healthy-ish.
The barista put the muffin on a plate on the counter.
“Thanks so much. I’ll be right back for the lattes.” I grabbed some napkins and a knife and trotted back to the table. Ashley put Iris on the ground, cut the muffin in half, and divided the napkins. I skipped back to the counter and the lattes were ready. I grabbed one in each hand and whipped around—and slammed right into Jake Logan.
“Oh, I’m so sorry.” Fortunately, the lids had been secured properly, otherwise he wouldn’t be flashing that dazzling smile nor flexing those adorable dimples.
“No problem. But I’ve got to say, we have to stop meeting like this.”
What? Oh, the collision by the Secret Maze exit. For a moment I was jarred back to my first date with Milo when he’d said those exact same words after I’d tripped and fell into his arms like I had at the site visit. I smiled apologetically. “Sorry. I always get in trouble when my eyes and feet aren’t pointed in the same direction.” I tittered like a teenager. Again. But those blue eyes and dark lashes. I was melting like the butter on my bran muffin, while at the same time feeling guilty I might be attracted to Jake. Slow your roll, girl.
He laughed softly. “At least the collisions are getting gentler.”
“Yeah, that’s true.” More tittering from me, and then an awkward silence followed. That was all I got. That I enunciated an articulate sentence in light of such male pulchritude was huge for me. I was a big believer in quitting while I was ahead.
But, of course, I was also a big believer in inclusivity, which apparently overrode everything. “Um . . . feel free to, er . . . do you want to join us outside? I’m here with my friend, Ashley, from last night. We’re sitting outside.” Since my hands were full, I jerked my head in the direction of the patio. “She snagged the last table outside. It’s crowded today.”
He somehow gleaned the meaning from my stuttering redundancies and graciously accepted my invitation. “Thanks. Sounds good. I’ll be there in a sec after I order.”
I hightailed it to the table. OMG he’s polite and kind too.
Ashley had already taken a small bite of muffin from her half. “That PI is here. Jake, from last night.”
“I know. I asked him to join us. Hope that’s okay with you?”
She swallowed hard and nearly choked on her muffin. “You did? That’s my girl! Good for you. He seems nice.”
I handed her one of the lattes. “He does seem nice.”
Jake came to our table a few minutes later, borrowing a free chair from an adjacent table. Iris danced around his feet and licked his hand when he petted her. While she was a very affectionate dog in general, she didn’t always warm to males. She’d adored Milo and Jake seemed to pass the Iris litmus test as well.
“How are you both doing today? That was quite an eventful evening last night, to say the least.”
“Hanging in there.” Ashley looked him up and down. Her eyes sparkled with approval. “Would you like some of this muffin? It’s huge—plenty to go around.”
I broke off a small piece of muffin. “I sent the footprint photos to Adrian but haven’t heard back from him yet.”
“I’m sorry about your husband’s disappearance. I’ve actually been following it in the local paper. Missing person cases always attract my attention since they make up close to half of the cases I work on.”
“Really?” I popped the muffin piece into my mouth.
“Has there been any activity on his credit cards?” Jake asked before taking a sip of his coffee.
I sighed hard. “None that I’ve found online. The police have submitted warrants for his phone and credit card records. We’re still waiting for the companies to comply with their requests. Apparently, unless there’s proof of a life-threatening situation, it can take a month or longer to obtain them. I’m positive something bad has happened to him. I can feel it. If he wanted to leave me, he would have told it to me straight. That’s what I loved about him. He was honest. Kind. In fact, I worry it was those qualities that somehow got him in trouble. He was almost altruistic to a fault.”
“Huh. That seems to be the consensus from everything I’ve read and heard about him. Sadly, not knowing more, I would tend to agree with you. His profile certainly doesn’t fit that of someone who drops out of sight of their own volition, usually to dodge responsibilities or other nefarious reasons. Sorry. But it seems you’ve reached the same conclusion.”
I hung my head. Tears welled up. I took a deep breath. “I can see why you’re a detective. You’re good at reading people. What brings you to Santa Sofia? I’m assuming you’re not from here. I saw you turn around and drive back to the hotel after you drove away last night.”
“You’re quite the detective yourself. You’re right. I’m up from Santa Barbara. Working on the bread and butter of our business, insurance investigations.”
I almost blurted out what a coincidence because our insurer was going to conduct an investigation for my father’s insurance policy but caught myself, too embarrassed to discuss the embezzlement and insinuation of suicide. Besides, I was cognizant of Uncle Bob’s sensitivity and desire for privacy. Maybe once we figured out what happened, I could pick Jake’s brain. For now, I wanted to keep it general.
Ashley set down her cup. “Oh? What type of insurance investigations?”
“All types—life, property. Any claim that’s five figures and over gets investigated before the insurance pays up. It’s pretty run-of-the-mill these days.”
Ashley listened intently. “So, how does that work exactly? The insurance company hires you for specific cases? Are you on a retainer?”
“We’re on retainer for a few smaller companies. For the larger insurers, once they’ve worked with us and like us, they zap us their cases almost automatically. We’re fortunate we’ve had a high success rate, which, in turn, keeps us busy.”
I nodded. “Same with my family’s landscape architecture business. Once we’ve been hired by a big corporation like Hotel Santa Sofia Properties, our foot is in the door. If they’re pleased with our design and construction work, it’s almost a guarantee for future work.” At least I was hoping that would be the case for their condominium project.
Ashley rested her chin in her hand, engrossed in our conversation. “Always better to have too much work to keep you busy than too little. It’s hard building a clientele. My law practice is at the stage where it’s either feast or famine.”
Jake tipped his cup for the last of his coffee and rose up. “Well, very nice talking to you guys. He handed us each a business card. “In case you ever need a PI.”
Ashley whipped out her card and handed it to Jake. I followed suit.
He patted Iris. “See you around.”
Ashley and I watched in silence from the patio as Jake walked halfway down the block and jumped into his Tesla, as if we were ogling a model strutting down a runway.
Ashley took this in and turned to me. “Umhm. Mighty fine dude, that one. He must be doing well if he drives a Tesla.”
I couldn’t get over this good-looking guy was also green—driving a sexy electric car, showing he cared about the environment. He was so much like Milo—I was a sucker for eco-friendly men.
I picked up my phone. “I should call Aunt Veronica. I texted her earlier about the donor list and she never responded, which is unlike her. I’ve been thinking about how upset she was last night.”
She answered after a few rings.
“Hi, Aunt Veronica. How are you doing? How’s Sam?”
“Tory, how sweet of you! I was just about to text you to let you know I sent the donor list. Sam is very sad. He’d just connected with Jo in the past several months and was working on building a relationship with her. So, this has been quite a blow.”
She and Sam knew. If Aunt Veronica had been aware that Jo was Esmeralda, it was a good bet that Uncle Bob had known too. Why had he lied about it?
“I’d say. Especially losing her in such a violent manner. I could take Sam out to lunch. Do you think he’d be up for that? Having lost both my parents, I can really relate. Losing someone you love is never easy.”
“Thanks, Tory. I’ll ask him. My guess is he’d like that. He and Bob had planned on lunch today, but that police officer from last night called, the one I sent the donor list to––”
“You mean Adrian?”
“Yes, Adrian. He called Bob and wanted him to come down to the station right away to sign a formal statement.”
I flinched in surprise. “He did?” I flashed an anxious look at Ashley and took a deep breath. “Okay. Let me know when a good time would be for me to pick Sam up for lunch. I’m pretty flexible.”
As soon as I hung up, Ashley asked, “What’s wrong?”
“Adrian called my uncle and asked him to come to the station for a formal statement.”
Ashley whistled. “That’s not good. Didn’t he sign one last night? If he did, that probably means they have more questions to ask him. I’m not surprised, though. Your uncle is a lousy liar.”
“You noticed? Horrible liar. But the real question is why did he lie to Adrian last night about not knowing Jo was Esmeralda? Aunt Veronica acted like it was common knowledge. How weird is that?”
“Pretty weird. I wonder why he lied? What’s he got to hide?”
I was about to posit some reasons when my phone rang. I checked the screen. “It’s Adrian. Can’t wait to hear what he thinks about the matching footprints.”
Ashley hunched her shoulders in anticipation.
“Hi, Adrian!”
“Hi, Tory. I’d like to know when you can come down to the station.”
“Come down to the station?” I repeated for Ashley’s benefit.
She grasped my arm.
“Yes. We have some additional questions for you to include in your formal statement that you need to sign.”
My stomach flipped. “Um, okay. I can drop by right now.”
“Great. See you soon.”
“He wants me to come down to the station now too. He said he has some additional questions for me. He said I have to sign a formal statement.”
Ashley winced. “Honey, that’s never good. I’m coming with you. I’d say it sounds like, at the very least, you’re what the cops call a person of interest. Translated, that’s cop talk for being one degree away from being a suspect.”