Chapter Six
The crowning jewel of Heritage Park was the Rosson House, a fully restored 1895 Queen Ann Victorian manor. The charity benefit had been set up in the gardens. Under colorful fairy lights dozens of tables covered with pristine white linens were lined up. A Latin band played on the balcony. Beneath them Enrique and Jana did a smokin’ hot cha- cha on a temporary dance floor. An enthusiastic crowd had gathered to watch them.
I spotted Frederick glad-handing all the important guests. I’ll never understand what Jana saw in the toad. Okay, I’d admit Frederick was attractive and when he put his mind to it, he could be charming. At heart, however, he was a narcissistic ass and he hated the fact Jana was more successful than him.
Buffy, his date, was wearing a hideous orange satin dress with a huge pink bow perched on her back like fairy wings. The monstrosity was so tight she was forced to take little mincing steps.
I watched Frederick getting angrier and angrier. He didn’t like all the attention Jana’s and Enrique’s dance routine was getting. If looks could kill, they would be toes up.
Tinkerbell let out a mournful howl.
“What?”
Arf. Arf. Arf.
“Okay. Okay. I’ll call your mom again.” I dialed Maria’s number for the twelfth time. Once more, the phone went straight to voicemail. I tried to ignore the little voice in my head that said she was dead.
“Sorry. She’s still not answering.”
Tinkerbell stared up at me with sad eyes and whimpered.
“I’m worried too.”
Arf. Arf. Arf.
“I promise. I will find her.”
A low growl rumbled in Tinkerbell’s chest.
“Dutch is here? That was quick.”
Arf. Arf. Arf. Arf. Arf.
“You’re right, it’s probably the first time a little old nun has kicked his butt.” Dutch stepped out of the shadows still wearing his biker garb. My stomach clenched. In the middle of all the tuxedoed males, the detective stood out like a predator among sheep.
Woof. Woof.
I laughed. “He does have a nice shiner and he’s limping pretty good too.”
Tinkerbell gave me a doggie grin. Arf. Arf. Arf. Arf.
“Nah, I don’t think he’s gonna turn into the walking dead.”
Dutch’s fierce gaze surveyed the guests. It skimmed over me. His body stiffened, and his head snapped back around. The expression on his face could only be described as gotcha.
My own parents wouldn’t recognize me, huh?
Enrique and Jana finished their dance with a flourish.
The crowd applauded loudly.
His mouth a grim line, Frederick pulled Buffy out on the dance floor, almost trampling my very best friend. “Leave.”
Jana gave him her best eat shit and die glare before leaving the dance floor with Enrique.
The band broke into a lively Tango.
This should be interesting.
Buffy twirled her arms around like a dysfunctional helicopter and jerked her head forward as if she was trying to puke.
Arf? Arf?
I cocked my head. “Dunno. Maybe she has a hairball.”
Ducking Buffy’s flailing arms, Frederick did a weird tap dance around her.
“I know you’re the Ninja Nun,” Dutch rumbled in my ear.
Doing my best clueless impression, I stared up at him. “Are you talking to me?”
“Yes.” The word was a snarl.
I tapped a finger against my face. “Do I know you?”
“You’re a real riot.”
“Oh, now I remember. You’re the cranky bastard that lives next door to me. Forget your tuxedo?”
“Cut the act, Sister. You know why I’m here.”
“No, I don’t, and my name is Kandi, not sister. Go away before I call security.”
Dutch leaned down until his nose touched mine. “I don’t know how you did it, but you sic’d those damn pigeons on me.”
“Are you off your meds?”
“You also assaulted me, and that, sweetheart, is a class 1 felony.”
I gave Dutch a disbelieving look. “When and where did this horrible assault occur?
“Today at the warehouse.”
“What warehouse?”
“I’m in no mood to play games,” Dutch snapped.
“Me either. I don’t know what you’re talking about and I’ve never laid a hand on you.”
“True,” Dutch nodded. “You kicked me in the stomach. Repeatedly.”
“Teensy-weensy me, beat you up? Please. You outweigh me by sixty pounds.”
Dutch pulled out a set of cuffs. “You’re under arrest.”
Tinkerbell growled viciously.
Dutch twitched and pulled his gun. “Bite me, you little rug rat, and I’ll shoot your ass.”
My temper flared to life. No one threatened my Tinkerbell. I stepped in front of the Yorkie and poked Dutch in the chest. “Back the hell off. Only a dickless pussy threatens an itty-bitty dog.”
Jana suddenly yelled, “Oh! My! God! He’s got a gun!”
Chaos erupted as people ran screaming in every direction.
Dutch held up his badge. “I’m a cop!”
Two security guards tackled Dutch, knocking him to the ground.
I watched as they wrestled. Damn, someone was having a really bad day.
“Get off me. I’m a cop,” Dutch bellowed.
Two more guards piled on top of Dutch. In the scuffle his badge was kicked away.
I picked it up, stuffed it in my clutch and said loudly, “He doesn’t look like a cop to me. Wasn’t he panhandling down on McDowell?”
“He was. The nasty man tried to get in my car,” Jana replied huffily and snagged his gun.
Enrique whispered, “The Chief of Police is headed this way.”
“Time for a tactical retreat,” I said.
Jana countered, “Only the guilty flee.”
“No one is going anywhere. The police have the exits blocked off,” Enrique added.
I was feeling a mite thirsty. “Champagne anyone?”
Woof. Woof.
“Caviar? You’re sure you want to eat fish eggs?”
Arf. Arf.
“Smells good, huh?”
Woof.
“Okay. I’ll get you some caviar.”
Tinkerbell did a happy dance.
Jana grinned at the Yorkie’s antics. “What did she ask for?”
“Caviar.”
“That dog has good taste,” Jana replied.
We trooped over to the buffet table.