CHAPTER
thirty-one 
BRANDON HAD MENTIONED before that he surfed before dawn Mondays to Fridays. True to his word, I found him alone on the beach near All Tide Up. He’d already donned his wetsuit and carried his board to the shoreline when I managed to catch up to him and call out his name.
He pivoted and faced me in the predawn light. “Mimi? What are you doing here?”
“I wanted to speak with you before you hit the waves.”
His gaze traveled to the calm sea. “This early in the day, the water isn’t choppy yet. It’s the perfect time to go.”
I studied the vast expanse of sand around me, free from the typical beachgoers. “No crowds to fight, either.”
He propped his board up in the sand. “So, what can I do for you?”
“It’s about the ring.”
He looked puzzled.
“The one you gave to Helen.” I noticed him shifting his tanned feet on the sand. “Marina still has the engagement ring. I thought you might want it back.”
He stared out at the open water. “Marina can keep it. Too many memories that could haunt me.”
Gee, he seemed so down. I thought I could cheer him up by asking, “What was your story? I love hearing about cute proposals.”
He buried his toes in the sand. “It was a simple ask. Helen hated drama.”
I still needed to figure out why she’d kept it locked up. Maybe it hadn’t fit her. “Was the ring the correct size?”
His eyes pierced me. “Why would you ask that?”
“Because Helen, uh, wasn’t wearing it the day she died.”
He snorted. “Figures. Helen was hot and cold about our relationship. She had major issues with physical touch. Sometimes she’d let me hold her hand. Other times, she pushed me away. Daddy trauma.”
I remembered the photo of Helen and Brandon from the townhouse. Despite the big smiles on their faces, I recalled that there had been a noticeable gap between their bodies. “Care to elaborate?”
He smoothed a hand over his wetsuit. “Dear Dad practically abandoned her at a boarding school while she was growing up.”
I clucked my tongue, wondering how old Helen had been when she’d been sent away. Hearing the venom that had infused Brandon’s words, I said, “You and Helen’s father did seem rather frosty to each other at the memorial service.”
“That tightwad had the money to make her life extra comfy as an adult, but he didn’t. Heartless guy.”
After he spit his last words out, Brandon unstuck his board and rushed toward the sea without saying goodbye. He’d had his eye on the ocean during our conversation, but I got the sense he was trying to find escape in the sea for himself, and perhaps from my anger-inducing questions.
When I opened up Hollywoof, we already had a line of waiting customers. It felt like Nicola and I kept handling loads of clients without any end in sight. I even cut into my lunch break and barely managed to eat half a sandwich before returning to work. Things finally started slowing down in the late afternoon.
Around three, an owner and his mutt arrived. I smelled them even before they took their first steps into the shop. Nimbus hid her delicate nose behind her paws while Marshmallow glared at the newcomers. “Someone needs deodorant,” he said.
The man handed his dog’s leash over to me. “Sorry about the noxious odor. We had a run-in with a wild creature.”
“Yes, I can tell by the eau de skunk,” I said, trying not to scrunch my face in disgust.
“Can I drop my dog off and pick him up later? I’ll leave my number for you,” the man said.
“Yes, we’ll call you when he’s ready.”
The man almost skipped out the door, and from behind the cash register, Nicola said, “It’s your turn, right?” She gave me a hopeful smile.
I sighed. “This might take a while.”
In the back, I prepped the solution of hydrogen peroxide, baking soda, and dishwashing soap. I’d need to scrub every inch of the dog with painstaking care.
Thank goodness his eyes didn’t seem watery or red. The skunk must have missed his face when it sprayed.
I made sure to put on some thick rubber gloves for the job. After all, I didn’t want to become a human version of Pepé Le Pew.
Using a soft washcloth, I concentrated on placing the mixture all over his body. I’d need to toss away the stinky cloth after this special bath. I let the solution soak in for about twenty minutes before I rinsed him off. Then I did the usual shampoo and dry.
After all the treatments, I sniffed the dog. He seemed much better, but maybe my nose had gotten acclimated. To be on the safe side, I spritzed him with a pet-safe vanilla perfume. There. Now he smelled like a furry cupcake.
We returned to the front, where I asked Nicola to contact the owner. Around the same time, a woman happened to walk into the store with her bulldog. She turned straight around. “We’ll come back tomorrow,” she said over her shoulder as she hurried away.
“Does it smell that bad?” I asked.
Nicola had her nose covered with a handkerchief and appeared on the point of fainting. If only she would unleash the same amount of drama during her auditions.
From his spot, Marshmallow began gagging. “Mimi, I can’t hold my breath much longer. Need. Fresh. Air.”
“Let’s get some circulation in here.” I propped the front door open.
Nimbus had started crawling toward the entrance when the mutt’s owner, thankfully, arrived to pick up his dog. He flashed us a huge smile as he paid the bill.
The man almost tripped over the two cats as he left. They’d huddled near the doorway to stick their noses out and breathe in the fresh air.
“We should close early today,” I said. “The cats don’t feel too well. And if that lady customer was any indication, no one will be clamoring to enter the shop anyway.”
Nicola agreed to stay an extra fifteen minutes to air out the place and spray Febreze everywhere. “But then I’m outta here,” she said. “Gonna try to catch Thai Elvis during his return performance.”
I gave her a puzzled look, and Marshmallow turned to me with wide blue eyes. “‘Thai Elvis’? The fumes must be getting to Nicola.”
Nicola kept on gushing. “You do know Thai Elvis, right? He’s legendary. A superb performer at one of Thai Town’s restaurants in East Hollywood.”
Still no clue.
“He’s here this week only,” Nicola said. “I must catch him before he flies out again.”
“Okay, then. Have fun,” I told her. Nicola’s words reminded me of someone I needed to track down before he left. As I led the sluggish cats out to the palm tree–lined plaza, it looked like they both needed naps to recover from their recent stinky encounter. Besides, it’d be easier to leave them at home when I met up with Scott Reed.