"Miss Kitty?" Viv called. "Time to come inside." The cat disappeared behind a yucca plant, her tail swishing. Viv sighed with exasperation.
"Bork," came the call from over the fence.
"Not now, Kevin," Viv snapped and then instantly regretted her tone. "Stop barking. I've got this," she said in a more coaxing voice. Reaching into her pocket, she removed a dog cookie.
Walking to the fence, she slipped it between two boards, watching as Kevin chomped and swallowed. "Good boy. Now don't make a ruckus so that I can corral Miss Kitty."
Kevin wagged his tail as Viv called again, "Miss Kitty…"
"Meow," came the plaintive response. Out from behind the yucca, her cat sauntered toward her catio door. She stopped to wash a paw, giving Viv a chance to walk across the yard.
"Good girl." Viv shoved the screen aside, holding the door until Miss Kitty's tail cleared the space. She never hurries, Viv thought. Once inside, the cat scampered to the top of her carpeted castle. She turned to view Viv imperiously before lifting her other paw for a quick wash.
Viv took two treats from her other pocket and left them in front of Miss Kitty. "Thank you for coming in," she said.
Pouring herself a cup of tea in the kitchenette, she glanced outdoors. Having skipped her morning walk with Rex, she had more time to allow her cat to explore outdoors. And Viv also had more time to let go of her embarrassment from the night before.
She'd unpacked her suitcase right after her shower. Putting away all of her carefully planned outfits, including her sexiest silk nightgown and robe. This felt like cleaning up spilled milk to Viv. If she made a mistake, she always wanted to get rid of the evidence as soon as possible. And apparently she'd expected more from Rex than she was willing to admit.
He had no idea about the nightgown in my suitcase, thank goodness.
And now that she was drinking coffee, she knew what to do. Reframe the uncomfortable thoughts. That's what she'd teach her doulas, when they'd come back from a difficult birth and couldn't let go of negative emotions.
I'm perfectly fine being friends with Rex Redondo. In fact, that's a lot less complicated than the other.
Then she told herself one more time, Rex had no idea what was on my mind. He was far too involved with his detective work to think about me. I am way past dating anyone and I need to let this all go.
Her cell phone chimed, breaking into her self-talk. Two unheard messages. One came from a family with a new baby. The other message brought up a quick breath. Beverly Nelson.
Viv held her phone to her ear. "Ms. Rose. Please call me at your earliest convenience. I want to know how your investigation is going with Joey Baker." Gone was the drunken woman with the slurred words. She had been replaced by a sober version of Beverly Nelson who wanted answers.
Viv put the phone down, agitated. Rex warned me about going to her home alone. But she deserves answers.
Viv's mind flashed on the scene at the casino, where she'd tried to engage Joey Baker in a conversation. She wondered if he didn't have something to do with Carmine's death. Even if Beverly and Pete looked guilty, that didn't mean Joey was blameless.
Opening up her computer at the kitchen table, she sent an email to the couple who needed advice about their new baby's sleeping schedule. Nurse when baby is hungry. Even at night. Double your liquid intake. That's the best way. I'll check in with you this evening.
Viv always had trouble explaining to young couples that having a healthy baby meant lots of work. If you resisted, it only felt more difficult. If you just gave in and accepted that the baby's needs came first, you had a better chance of adjusting to parenthood. Then in another eighteen years you could reclaim your life, assuming you still loved each other.
After sending that email she opened another document. From memory she typed the names of the HOA board. I've encountered each of these men outside that meeting.
Frank Salucci had stood in front of her with his wife at the wake. He was the first one to mention Joey Baker.
And then there was Rear Admiral Samuel Daniels. A man who spent a good deal of his retirement preaching at the local church. She did catch a quick glimpse of him on the golf course. When Kevin escaped for a run.
Viv kept typing, making notes of the things she remembered next to each name. And there was that Dean guy. Selling sneakers out the back of Carmine's Fluff and Fold. They'd only spoken briefly, but that counted as an encounter. Plus the revolver in the locker was stored in a sneaker box. Something to consider.
And she was hired by Beverly Nelson, who was not on the HOA board. But her friend, Peter Langford, was the treasurer of the board. And the way they bolted out of Rex's show—that surely meant something.
She tapped her fingers on the table next to the computer. All of those people, with the exception of Beverly Nelson, must have property in the Desert Tortoise Estates. Otherwise they couldn't be on the HOA board. I want to know where they live. Beverly Nelson can wait.
Convinced she was on to something, Viv stood from the table. If I pay attention to the investigation, I'll stop fussing about Rex. Then he'll assume that I am interested in solving this murder, not that I’m interested in him. She felt her chest relax.
By the time her cell phone began to rattle on the table, she was ready to answer. "Hey, neighbor," came Rex's rich voice. "I hope you kept your suitcase packed. I've booked us for a weekend at Three Bunch. And don't worry. Sutton already said she'd feed Miss Kitty."