Fifty Shades of Greyhound (The Pampered Pets Mystery Series) (14 page)

I LEFT THE BENDA residence with Alana’s odd behavior on my mind.

Also, a day later, I was even more firmly convinced Blanche LeRue had not committed suicide. And my view was more than what Malone had flagged as simple denial. I was familiar with the denial friends and family often went through, but in Blanche’s case, there were no signs of alcoholism or drug abuse. I’d been in her home. It was a matter of convincing Malone her death warranted further digging.

Ollie Hembry was next on my list for the day, and as I drove to Ruby Point, I went over the last conversation I’d had with Blanche. “It’s complicated,” she’d said.

It sure as shootin’ is, Blanche, honey.

It remained to be seen who’d hired Dirk Pennick. Someone had. Could Dave have hired him to investigate Alana? Could someone have hired him to investigate Blanche? But who? And, if so, what for?

I wondered if the FBI had found anything in the house he’d rented to indicate who he was working for and what he was investigating. It seemed to me the answers to those questions were the key to not only why he’d been killed, but also what had happened to Blanche.

I pulled off of Pacific Coast Highway and into the entrance of Ruby Point.

“Good morning, Tucker.” I checked in once again with the guard at the gate and drove directly to Ollie’s. His property was not far from Diana’s, but had nothing of the storybook look of hers. He had asked me to drop off some of my gluten-free dog snacks for one of his pooches who was on a special diet.

I looked forward to Ollie and his brood. He was a kind-hearted man even though he often hid it behind his wild-rocker throwback attitude.

When I rang the doorbell, “God Save the Queen” rang out, but there was a long pause before Ollie eased open the door.

He peeked out from the doorway. “Oh, it’s you, luv.” His long black hair was loose, and he was dressed in his usual black shirt, black jeans, dark glasses. Today, he’d added a black satin bathrobe to the ensemble. The look worked for him. “Come in, come in.”

He edged the door open a bit more, and I slipped inside.

“Are you okay?” I worried about him.

His agoraphobia, which kept him from leaving his house, had been limited to only a fear of being out in public. He’d always been fine with people who came to his home. However, sometimes anxiety disorders can morph into other issues.

“I’m fine, duck.” He pushed his blue-tinted sunglasses up on his nose. “I have someone I’d like you to meet.”

With Ollie, that kind of statement probably meant he’d added another animal to his menagerie. He was very close to giving Diana a run for her money on the live-in rescue front. I wondered what kind of canine he’d adopted this time.

“Ta-da!” he announced as we walked into the living room.

I’d looked at floor level, watching for some new fur baby to come racing forward, so it took me a minute to raise my eyes to the person sitting on the couch.

“Eugene.” I choked on his name. “What are you doing here?”

It was a dumb question. It was clear what he was doing at Ollie’s was hiding. The police would not have thought to look for him at Ollie’s, and I hadn’t thought to mention to either Malone or Agent Milner that Ollie and he knew each other.

“Ms. Lamont, Ollie here persuaded me to talk to you.” Eugene swallowed hard, his young face pale. “I didn’t kill Dirk, but I don’t trust the police.”

“Bloody coppers,” Ollie interjected.

Ollie’d had a few run-ins himself with law enforcement back in his wild party days, and there was no love lost there. It made sense Eugene would have picked Ollie as an ally.

“Oh, Eugene, hon. You need to talk to the FBI.”

“The FBI?” He sat up straight. “What do the Feds have to do with this?”

“You hadn’t heard?” I looked from him to Ollie. “The investigation is no longer a local thing. The FBI has taken over the case.”

“Haven’t had the telly on.” Ollie waved a beringed hand. “All bad news in the world of late. Eugene’s been helping me sort out some techie stuff.”

“In any case, Eugene, you’re not doing yourself any favors by hiding. You need to tell the FBI what you know.”

“Bloody coppers.” Ollie didn’t have much new to add, but at least he was consistent in his view.

By this point, Eugene had gotten up from the couch and begun to pace the room. “They’ll arrest me. I can’t afford a lawyer. Everyone has already decided I’m guilty.”

“Eugene, I believe you, and I’ll help you get an attorney if you need one.” I really meant what I said. It was clear to me Eugene hadn’t killed Dirk. There was more to this than an argument over being recognized at a party.

“I don’t know, I don’t know, I don’t know.” He mumbled and paced.

Ollie watched him. He reached down to pat Morkie, the little Lhasa Apso and Poodle mix, who’d sidled up next to him.

“Eugene, two people are dead.” I stood and caught his sleeve. “If you’re not willing to go to the FBI or the police, at least call them and tell them what you know. You can use my phone.”

The younger man turned to Ollie. “What do you think?”

“I think Caro is stand-up. If she says she’ll help you, she will.”

Eugene suddenly made a decision. “Okay, I’ll talk to your FBI guy. But I want to call from your phone. And I don’t want to do it from here. I don’t want to get Ollie in trouble.”

“Ah, no worries, mate.” Ollie patted him on the back.

“Okay, let’s do this.” Eugene headed for the door.

Eugene got in the car with me, and we drove just outside the Ruby Point entrance. I felt safe. Even if I’d misjudged the young man—and I didn’t think I had—Tucker, in the guard shack, was just a holler away.

And while I hadn’t quite perfected Diana’s horror movie scream, I could darned well make some noise if I needed to.

EUGENE LOOKED like he’d head for the hills if he could, and Agent Milner looked like he hadn’t slept in days.

We sat in the shade on some ornate benches near the Ruby Point guard shack. Milner was back to his usual gray suit, white shirt, tie, and wingtips. The suits surely didn’t come off the rack looking that rumpled, but I’d never seen them otherwise. His silver hair was combed, but just barely, and his eyes had bags the like of which I hadn’t seen since I’d last seen Grandpa Montgomery’s old coon dog.

He handled Eugene with a calm and, dare I say, a kind demeanor.

Probably an FBI interrogation technique.

I guessed it was the most effective technique for someone like Eugene. Probably for a tough guy, Milner would adopt more of an in-your-face attitude.

Could be the FBI Agent was just a nice guy, but I was betting on technique. But then, like Diana frequently points out, I’m a cynic.

I sat quietly and observed, hoping they’d forget I was there. It seemed they had. Agent Milner was good. He pulled information from Eugene little by little, like he had all the time in the world.

He also baited Eugene with bits of info. I’d learned a lot so far about what was actually going on and why the FBI was involved in what had initially been a local murder case.

As they talked, the crumbs Agent Milner threw out gave me a clearer picture. The FBI had never seen Eugene as a suspect. They’d always been after bigger fish.

Eugene had no idea what Dirk had been working on or who he was working for. When he’d seen him at the Greyhound fund-raiser, he immediately thought the man was involved in some big con. And maybe he had been.

“We searched the house Dirk Pennick had been renting at Mission Point, but nothing there indicated who he was working for. No notes, no files.”

“I’m not surprised.” Eugene bounced his jean-covered leg as he talked. “He was a smart guy, always kept a lot of information in his head.”

“Still, houses in that neighborhood aren’t cheap, and I don’t think Dirk was independently wealthy. So there was either a client, or a scam.” Milner was still on a fishing expedition.

“When we argued that night at the dog deal, he claimed he’d gone legit.” Eugene’s voice trembled. “But I figured he was saying that so I wouldn’t out him.”

“Do you know of anyone else Dirk Pennick hung out with or anyone he may have simply mentioned?”

“No, I don’t.” His pale face was flushed. “Wait.” His leg stopped bouncing.

Agent Milner waited patiently.

“There was this guy, Joe, we both knew. He was in the work release program at the same time we were both there. Right before I was out of probation. But I don’t know where he is or what he’s doing now.”

“Listen, Eugene, we know the trouble you got into was probably just a youthful prank.” Agent Milner paused. “And we’re prepared to clear your record in exchange for your help with this. We’ve hit nothing but dead ends.”

“What would I have to do?” Eugene’s expression was wary. He was a cynic, too. Too young to be cynical, but life would do that to you.

“Can you talk to any of the guys that were there with you and Dirk? Some of them may have been in contact with him.”

Eugene hesitated. His trust in Agent Milner had grown. “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell everybody. I don’t hang with any of the guys who got me into that crap.”

“I’m not asking you to hang out with them again.” Again, Milner’s voice was kind and soothing. “But they are not going to talk to someone who looks like me. And”—he paused and glanced my way—“I don’t think I can sufficiently disguise myself so they wouldn’t know I was law enforcement.”

I mouthed, “Not funny.”

He calmly went back to Eugene. “You, however, can call, claim the police are looking at you for his murder, and see what they know.”

Eugene hesitated and then said, “I can do that.”

“All right, young man.” Milner tone was soft but stern. “I’m not going to arrest you, but you must not leave the area. Do you understand?”

Eugene nodded.

“By the way, where have you been the past few days?” Milner asked. Again that offhand non-threatening approach.

“With friends.”

“Which friends?”

Eugene shook his head. Apparently, he was not going to give up Ollie to “the bloody coppers.” I thought probably Ollie could handle it if he did, but Agent Milner didn’t press.

They both stood.

“All right, here’s my number.” Milner handed a business card to Eugene. “You call me with whatever you learn. No matter how trivial it seems.”

“Okay.” Eugene shoved the card into his jeans pocket.

The FBI agent held out his hand, and he and Eugene shook on it.

“Now, can I give you a ride someplace?” He patted the younger man on the back.

I cleared my throat. “I’m going back to my office, and your sister will be there. You’re welcome to come along, if you like,” I offered.

“That would be great.” Eugene sounded relieved. He was going to cooperate, but he didn’t look like he really wanted to spend any more time chatting with Milner.

I unlocked the doors on the convertible so Eugene could get in, but paused before I joined him. “Agent Milner?”

He’d already started toward his vehicle. A very large, very boring sedan. He turned. “Yes?”

“Any progress made in locating my property?” I had to press.

“By that you mean this family brooch?”

“Yes. Have you located it?”

“It was logged into federal evidence, so it’s probably at the regional facility.” He sighed. “I have someone looking into it. We’ll find it.”

“I hope so, Agent Milner.” I didn’t mean to bust his chops, but seriously, how secure was their evidence system if it was that hard to find? More likely, my brooch simply didn’t rank high on anyone’s to-do list.

As he walked away, he muttered, “I hope so, too.”

“Thank you, sugar.” I called after him.

THE DRIVE TO downtown Laguna was quiet, although I’d glanced at my passenger a couple of times. I parked the Mercedes in the office lot, but before we got out, I turned to Eugene. “I know you’re probably second-guessing yourself at this point. But you did the right thing.” I could see the doubt in Eugene’s eyes.

“Guess we’ll find out.” He opened the car door and unfolded his lanky form.

We entered the office, and I knew the exact moment Verdi spotted her brother even before I could see her. The offices a block away probably heard her squeal of delight.

“Eugene!” She flew out from behind the desk and grabbed him in a tight hug. “Are you okay?”

“Sis, yes, I’m fine.” He laughed.

“What’s going on?” Verdi spotted me behind him. “Are the police coming?”

“No,” He peeled his sister’s arms from his waist. “I made a deal with the FBI. I’m helping them.”

“Really?” Verdi finally let go and stepped back to look him up and down.

“Yes, really.” Eugene quickly filled her in on where he’d been and his conversation with Agent Milner.

“Caro suggested maybe I could stay next door in the house where you’re taking care of the Bengal cats.”

“You can stay with me.” Verdi looked like she was going to hug him again.

“Your apartment’s really small, and you have lousy Internet service. I need to be able to get online and try to track down some of the guys I was in jail with.”

“I don’t know.” Verdi bit her lip. It was clear she didn’t want to let her brother out of her sight for long.

“Sis, I’m not going anywhere.” He gave Verdi’s shoulders a quick squeeze. “I won’t disappear again.”

“If Caro thinks it would be okay with April Mae, the lady who owns the house .
 . .
.” She trailed off.

I didn’t point out they hadn’t checked with me when Eugene had been hiding at April Mae’s before. “I’m sure it will be fine.”

In fact, April Mae Wooben would be thrilled if she knew she’d provided help to someone who needed it.

“Then let’s get your stuff. I moved it back to my apartment when you disappeared.” Verdi had the grace to look sheepish like she suddenly realized the position she’d put me in before.

“Go on.” I shooed them out the door. “There’s nothing going on here anyway.”

There was no one else in the office except for Dave Benda.

I wondered how much he’d heard and if the noise had bothered him, but when I glanced in his office, he had his head down, working on his computer.

Crunching numbers.

Dave was always crunching numbers.