Ninja Soccer Moms (5 page)

I dug my purse out of my desk and went out to the reception area. Before I could say anything to Blaine, the front door opened.

Grandpa and Ali came in.

“Grandpa, what are you doing here? Are the boys okay?”

Ali strolled up to me for a quick hello, which meant I was allowed to pet her for about five seconds. Then she jumped up to put her front paws on the edge of Blaine's desk to stare at him.

He stared back.

Ali barked.

Blaine opened his desk drawer and pulled out a box of animal crackers that he kept especially for her. He tossed her one at a time.

My dog had her people well trained.

Grandpa laughed, then turned to me. “I forgot I had the exterminators coming, Sam. Remember the ants? And tomorrow night is that party you are doing for Angel.”

“The lingerie party!” I hadn't forgotten, exactly. My best friend was starting a new career in mail-order lingerie. I was hosting her premiere party.

“I have story hour at the library. I don't want to leave Ali home while the house is being sprayed. Is it okay if she stays here with you? I'll pick her up when story hour is over.”

Grandpa was a favorite of the town children. He did magic tricks and made balloon animals when he read stories. I wasn't sure who loved it more, Grandpa or the children. “Sure, Grandpa. Ali can go with me over to Duncan's Nursery to talk to Roxy.” Ali was never a problem.

Grandpa went past Ali, still perched with her paws on Blaine's desk, to the TV tray with coffee. He poured himself half a cup and said, “What's up with Roxy, Sam?”

“Dating disaster.”

He shook his head. “Duncan just adored that girl from the second he brought her back to Elsinore. She's his only family since his sister died. Roxy's the best thing that ever happened to Duncan.”

I smiled. Roxy had it tough with no dad and her mom dying, but having someone love her so much healed the deep wounds, or at least helped her cope with the wounds. “Maybe that's it, Grandpa. Maybe no man can live up to Duncan for Roxy. I sure don't know any man who could ever live up to you.”

“Sure, Sammy, you really lowered your standards with Gabe.” He kissed me as he walked past. “Gotta go. Those kids don't like to be kept waiting.” He carried his coffee out the door.

“Grandpa, you be careful driving with that coffee.”

In the doorway he turned back and grinned. “I'm a magician. I can make it disappear.” Then he drank it all and held out the empty cup.

I went to get the Styrofoam cup. “You're a riot, Grandpa,” I said as I watched him walk across the wet pavement to his black jeep.

I went to the folding chairs and picked up my coat.

“Boss, Ali can stay here,” Blaine said.

Ali got down from the desk and went to the door.

I looked at Blaine and shrugged. “She likes to go in the car. She can come with me.”

He waved us off. “I'm entering Lionel's information in the computer. Can't do more than that until Gabe clears the security check. See ya.”

Gabe.
Ouch, that was a sore spot. “Right, I have the form in my purse. I'll get it to him soon.” Ali and I left.

In the T-bird, Ali sat up on the red passenger seat, with her head hanging out the opened window. She loved it in the summer when I took the hardtop off and we zoomed around town topless. But on a rainy January day, Ali made do with the opened window.

Heading right on Mission Trail, we made it to Duncan's Nursery in a few minutes. I made a left into the dirt parking lot, shut off the car, grabbed my purse, and got out. Ali jumped out after me. I figured enough time had passed that Roxy would be here by now, but I didn't see her black Jaguar.

Ali dropped her nose to the muddy parking lot and sniffed around. Her ears twitched. So many scents. Wagging her long tail, she got busy chasing down the smells.

I spotted Duncan Baird. He was a slim rectangular man who looked like he should be out on the range breaking ponies. Right now, he was lifting heavy bags of manure into the back of a Toyota pickup with the easy grace of a man who lived his life outdoors in the sun.

I leaned against the side of the car and watched Ali. She raced back and forth across the parking lot, and then she spotted a few birds that had ventured out now that the rain had stopped. She barked and chased them into a row of trees lined up in ten-gallon cans. Water dropped from the leaves onto her nose. She stopped and sneezed, then shook her head.

I laughed at her. She was having a blast. God, I loved that dog. She was so well behaved that we hardly even thought to take a leash with us anywhere. Now Ali was sniffing along the edge, between the parking lot and the plants. Long railroad ties marked it off. Ali wandered up toward the trailer office when she froze.

Uh-oh. I pushed off the car and started toward her. I'd seen that intent look before. It usually meant she found something important. Maybe a hurt kitten or a nest of baby birds. Or a snake . . . Wait, it was the wrong time of year for snakes. I felt one of my boots sink in the mud and stopped. These were suede boots, not meant for mud walking.

“Sam, what can I do for you today?”

I jumped and turned to look into Duncan's craggy face. “How are you, Duncan?”

His peeling lips twitched in a smile as he looked down to my boots. “Can't complain. We needed the rain. And my boots are waterproof.”

“Waterproof never crossed my mind when I shopped for these.” I lifted a foot to show him my black suede boots. We both looked down to see the brown ooze staining the delicate suede. Damn. Setting my foot down, I said, “Is Roxy here yet? She told me to meet her here.”

“Roxy? No I haven't seen her. But I need her to call back that computer guy. Can't make heads or tails of what he's saying.”

“She's probably on her way. What's wrong with your computer?” Roxy had dragged Duncan into the computer age. She worked with some computer techie to get everything at the nursery computerized. Duncan had enough basic knowledge to work the system, but he turned glitches and problems over to his niece. I could relate to that. Computers and I don't exactly communicate.

“Can't get the customer receipts to print—” His gaze slipped past me. “Hey! Get out of there!”

I whirled around in time to see Ali jump up on one of the three plastic trash cans set out by the trailer office. “Ali!”

The trash can went over, and the lid popped off. Ali barked and started digging through the rubble.

I forgot about my boots and ran across the mud, anchoring my purse underneath my right arm. “Ali, no!”

She ignored me, digging through plastic bags, newspapers, dead leaves, and other assorted junk. I got to her, slid to a stop and grabbed Ali's black collar with silver studs. “Ali!”

At eighty pounds of pure muscle, my one hundred and twenty-nine-and-a-half pounds of not enough exercise barely caught her notice. She kept digging and barking.

“Get that dog out of here!” Duncan roared from behind me.

I had both hands on her collar. “I've never seen her like this! I don't know what's gotten into her!” I yanked hard on her collar. My purse slipped down my arm, but I focused on my dog. “Ali, come—ugh!” My feet slid out from under me and I landed on my butt.

In a pile of trash. Slimy, wet trash.

Duncan closed one big hand around Ali's collar and pulled her back.

She growled.

Getting on my knees, I turned around to face my dog. “No, Ali!” I couldn't believe she would bite Duncan, but I didn't want to chance it. She wasn't looking at Duncan, though. Her long nose and intelligent eyes focused on that trash can.

Weird. While Duncan held her collar, I got up, grabbed my purse off the ground, and slung it over my shoulder, then piled the trash back into the can.

She didn't like that, alternating between whining and barking. I put the lid back on the can and did the only thing I could think of—dragged it into the trailer office, then shut the door.

I went back out to my dog. Getting down on one knee, I took her face in my hand. “What has gotten into you?”

Duncan let go of her collar. “Get that dog out of here.”

I looked up at him. “I'm sorry, Duncan. But you know Ali, she's never done anything like this before.” I thought he was overreacting.

“I don't have time to take care of your dog, Sam. Roxy's not here, and I have work to do.”

I knew an invitation to leave when I heard one. Besides, I was worried about Ali. She never acted that way without a reason. I stood up. “Look, Duncan, I'm concerned about Roxy. She's acting awfully emotional, even for her. Have her call me when she gets here. Please.” I took Ali's collar and went to the car.

Blaine was going to have a fit when he saw all the mud Ali and I tracked into the car. My boots were toast. Fortunately, my purse had landed on top of the trash pile, not in the mud. I set it down on the floor of the passenger side.

And what the hell was wrong with my dog? What was in that trash can that she wanted so badly? Driving on Mission Trail toward work, I looked over at Ali. She was curled up on the seat, her sad eyes watching me. “What, Ali? What am I missing?”

My cell phone rang. Watching the wet road, I leaned across to the floor in front of Ali's seat and pulled my cell out of my purse. “Hello?”

“Sam, it's me.”

“Angel, what's up?” My mind was on Ali, not my best friend.

“I'm at Mom's shop. I think you'd better get over here right away.”

“Now's not a good time, Angel. I'm—”

“Sophie Muffley is here, Sam. She's getting her hair done. And she's telling everyone who will listen not to talk to you about Chad Tuggle's murder.”

I
dropped Ali off at work, then shot up Railroad Canyon and turned right at the Cocoa's restaurant on Casino Drive. I went past the Sizzler and made a left into the pink stucco strip mall.

None of this made sense. Sophie was Chad's part-time secretary at his insurance office. Her husband was the president of the soccer club. No one was tighter with Chad. So why the hell would Sophie tell people at Angel's mom's beauty shop not to help me find out who killed Chad? Knowing Sophie, I was surprised she wasn't in Detective Vance's face insisting that he find the killer immediately.

I parked in front of Glam4Less, then remembered that I'd fallen into a pile of trash in the muddy parking lot. Crap. And here I was at a beauty shop full of women.

I got out of the car and grabbed my long raincoat from the back. I solved the problem by slipping that on. I knew how to improvise.

Inside, the smell of peroxide and perm solutions was tossed around by busy blow-dryers. The noise level rivaled my house when Grandpa and the boys turned on wrestling. On my left was the counter with the booking receptionist. Angel sat there on a high stool admiring her freshly painted nails.

They were black with colored sparkles. Cool. I wasn't quite sure what I thought about the black tips in her waist-length red hair. “New look?”

Angel lifted her vivid green eyes. “For my premiere party. Tempt-an-Angel Lingerie is all about sexy fun. I needed a new look.”

It was a burden to overlook my best friend's long-legged beauty, but I was up to the challenge. “You and your lingerie will be a hit.” No matter what else happened, I was determined to pull this party off for Angel. We had a girlfriend pact about finding our careers and men. I found my career—okay, maybe I wasn't a success just yet—but I wanted Angel to find her career, too.

Men were another problem altogether. I wasn't sure that telling Angel about Gabe's stunt this morning was a good idea. Sure, Gabe was a tough guy right off the streets of LA, but Angel was in a class by herself.

I focused on why I came running over here. “So what's the story?” I asked, glancing around behind me. The shampoo bowls were nestled in the back right corner of the shop, and behind there was the back room for employees. The front of the shop had the hair stations. The manicurists worked next to the receptionist station. The shop had a black-and-white Fifties look to it. Framed posters from TV shows like
I Love Lucy,
and movies like
Grease,
decorated the walls.

“Sophie Muffley, over there at Mom's station, heard Joanna telling Mom that Janie cancelled her nail appointment this morning.”

I looked over at Angel's mom. She was easy to spot, with Lucy Ricardo red hair that was teased on top with a flip at her shoulders. Trixie wore her usual—overalls paired with a busy printed T-shirt, and tennis shoes that had glitter and sequins glued on them. She looked up in the mirror at me and waved with her scissor hand.

I waved back.

That's when Sophie Muffley, sitting in Trixie's chair beneath a black cape, caught sight of me. Sophie and I had worked many, many soccer functions together. In her late fifties, her kids were grown and she was a career volunteer. Her awards were numerous—local clubs and newspapers had honored her. If I had a dime for all her acceptance speeches about how she gave up her career—and she never exactly said what that career was—to dedicate her life to children, I would be rich.

Trixie worked the foot latch on the chair to lower it. Sophie got up, stripped off the black cape, and turned her gaze on me.

My arms itched. More than once, I'd been browbeaten by Sophie into doing back-breaking jobs. But I was now a professional woman. I could stand up to Sophie.

She stalked over to stand two feet from me. Her narrowed gaze ran down my length, taking in my raincoat and mud-spattered boots. “Samantha Shaw, how dare you pass yourself off as a private detective to poor Janie Tuggle! Now you come sailing in here dressed like a female Columbo?”

I blinked. Female Columbo? Oh, my raincoat. Sheesh. No way was I telling her the real reason I had on the raincoat. “Sophie, this is a raincoat. It was raining this morning. And I never lied to Janie.” Not exactly. I never told Janie I was a private detective. I just wanted to help her. I looked around the shop. The two ladies getting their acrylic nails filed stared at me. A lady under the hair dryer turned it off. Blow-dryers went off. Everyone froze.

And stared at me.

Sophie lifted her chin. She kept herself ruthlessly thin, which made her face slightly pointed. Attractive enough, but severe. When dry, her hair was blond and styled close to her head. “Janie Tuggle told Joanna that you are investigating Chad's death. I'm warning you, Sam. Stay out of this, or I will be forced to take this matter to the police.”

One of us had inhaled too many fumes. I didn't think it was me. Sophie was a hundred-and-twenty-pound bulldozer, but she wasn't crazy. So what was going on? “Sophie, I work for Pulizzi Security and Investigations part-time.” Remembering the scene with Gabe this morning, I wasn't so sure about that. But I could help Janie as a private citizen with no pay. That was legal, and I would do it if necessary. “But I never told Janie that I had a license myself.”

“You implied it. Janie is one of ours, and I don't want you getting her into trouble. She needs friends now, not trouble.”

Anger shot up from my gut right to my mouth. “Right. And you stood by her when you threw Janie off the SCOLE board. Took away the books. Protected Chad. What friends.” Fury roiled in my chest. They had abandoned Janie when Chad took up with Dara. Now they claim her? What was that about?

Sophie ran her long thin fingers through her wet hair. “You don't understand. There are things we have to do for the good of the soccer club and the kids. Can't you get that? You used to understand. What happened to you?”

That was a clever trick and one that cooled my anger. Sophie was skilled at turning everything she wanted into “for the kids,” then asking me why I didn't care about the kids. So what did she want, exactly? Sucking in a breath to bring down my heart rate, I studied her. She did look tired, upset. The truth was that Sophie had suffered a horrible shock this morning. She was close to Chad. Both as his part-time employee and through soccer. Hell, her husband, Jay, was the president, and Chad had been the head coach. They ran SCOLE. I tried another tactic. “Look, Sophie, I'm so sorry about Chad. This has to be awful for you and Jay.”

Her thin shoulders beneath her silk print shirt relaxed. “Yes, it's awful. Of course, Rick Mesa will step in for Chad as head coach, but Chad will be missed.”

Shocked, I said, “You already talked to Rick?” Rick was Chad's best friend and assistant coach.

She nodded.

That seemed kind of premature. Sophie couldn't have known for more than a couple of hours that Chad was dead. I thought about it. Maybe this had to do with the missing money from the soccer account? “What are you going to do about the soccer books? Is there someone else who can take that over for Chad?”

Sophie looked blank. “Uh, I don't know. What difference does it make?”

Interesting. She talked to Rick about stepping into the head coach position, but she wasn't worried about the books. So did she know there was sixteen thousand missing from the account? “I was just thinking that Janie could help out.”

Her face hardened. “Sam, stay out of it. I mean it. You aren't going to make this tragedy into one of your newspaper headlines.” She turned and stalked back to her chair.

I blinked and looked at Angel.

She picked up her purse behind the counter and followed me out into the parking lot. “You know, Sam, I get the feeling that Sophie cares more about keeping you out of Chad's murder investigation than finding out who killed him.”

A gazillion thoughts raced through my head. Sophie had already talked to Rick Mesa this morning, and they were trying to get Janie under control. I recognized that Sophie more or less pulled rank to stop people from Lake Elsinore's soccer world from talking to me. And I'd bet money Janie didn't know about it. Sophie was controlling things. Why? I looked at Angel. “They are closing ranks around Chad and his death for some reason.”

“What do you think she meant by the newspaper headline crack?”

We were standing out on the sidewalk in front of Angel's mom's shop. I looked around the parking lot. “I think she's hiding something. Maybe the missing soccer money? Maybe they don't want anyone to know Chad stole money from SCOLE because it would look bad.”

Angel's green eyes glittered. “He stole money?”

Quickly, I caught her up, from finding the money missing from the soccer account last night, then finding out this morning that Chad had been murdered. I ended with Gabe tossing me off the case.

“No shit? Gabe's taking this Dara's side over you?”

I winced and looked away, out to the cars scattered around the parking lot. Leave it to Angel to cut to the chase. “Guess so.”

Angel didn't let me off the hook. “Uh-huh. And what are you going to do about that? What do you think Dara wants with Gabe? Besides his hunk of a bod?”

Bile rose up the back of my throat. I couldn't control Gabe or what he wanted. If he wanted Dara the slut . . . I brought my hand up to rub my face. “I'm going to help Janie find out who murdered Chad. Given Sophie's reaction, I'm more determined to help Janie. I'm not going to let Sophie and SCOLE run over her like they did when Chad dumped her. But—” I turned and faced Angel, “—Gabe preached at me about being partners, but he didn't trust me enough to tell me what Dara wanted.”

She tilted her head. “Confidentiality?”

I took my coat off. I didn't need it to cover my butt in the car. “It wouldn't be a problem if he trusted me, would it?”

Angel looked past me and said, “How about we put a tracking device on Gabe's truck? Then we could see what he's up to.”

“Angel!” Laughing in spite of my rotten day, I said, “Stalking your ex-husband is one thing. He couldn't find a tracking device if you painted big red arrows pointing the way. But Gabe would find it in no time. Then he'd kill me.”

She shifted her stare back to me. “Guess we'll find out.” She grinned.

Uh-oh. Now I heard the engine. I looked back over my shoulder and both of us watched the big black truck slide to a stop next to my T-Bird. Gabe jumped out of the cab and shot toward us. The passenger door opened, and for a minute I thought maybe it was Dara.

Then I saw the dark-haired, apple-shaped woman get out. Gabe's mom, Iris.

“Sam,” Angel whispered, already digging through her expensive leather purse. “Keep them busy while I get this on his truck.”

I stared at the doohickey in her hand. “No!”

Gabe's voice slammed into me from behind. “Sam, what are you doing here?”

Shifting my gaze from Angel and the thing she held in her hand, I turned to look at Gabe. His black hair fell straight over his broad forehead. The brown gaze he fastened on me darkened even while I watched. Flared nostrils and a tight jaw radiated anger. Shit. “Uh, well,”
Lie!
“I need to get a manicure.”

He arched one brow. “Looks like you are coming out, not going in.”

Oh, hell. “I forgot . . . something. What are you doing here?”

“He's taking me to the beauty parlor,” Iris said, as she strode up beside him. “I understand this shop is the best in town.”

I forced my gaze to stay on Gabe and his mom even though I knew Angel was putting a tracking device on his truck. Angel had all kinds of tracking equipment she used to torment the man dumb enough to leave her for a manicurist named Brandi. My fearless best friend was trying to help me, in her own twisted way.

Gabe's mom started turning her head toward Angel putting the device on Gabe's truck. “Iris!”

She turned back to me, her brown eyes wide.

I started babbling, while hugging my coat to my chest. “Oh, yes! This is the best beauty shop in town. Ask for Trixie. She owns it, and she's my best friend's mom.”

“I'll do that.”

Gabe took a step closer. “How did you get that bruise on your forehead?”

I reached up and winced when I touched the lump. “An accident with a client this morning.”

“One of Heart Mate's clients, or were you out snooping around under my license?”

Gabe's mom stared at me. Anger thrummed around my other raw emotions. I was getting damned tired of accusations from people. Why was he challenging me in front of his mother? I tilted my chin up. “A Heart Mates client.” Taking a breath, I caught a glimpse of Angel's head popping up over the back end of Gabe's truck. To keep his attention on me and away from Angel, I said, “I'm not investigating under your license.” Yet.

Gabe stepped closer and caught hold of my arm. “The mud all over your ass says differently.”

Cripes, I'd forgotten about that. With my coat off, Gabe and his mom had full view of my dirty butt from my fall in the trash and mud while struggling with Ali. Unfortunately, getting involved with a case usually meant ruining clothes, and Gabe knew it. But this time, my mud-covered butt had nothing to do with the case. “Ha!” I tried to pull my arm from his hold, but that was useless. “I was at Duncan's Nursery looking for Roxy,
my client.
But Ali took it into her head to get into Duncan's trash can. I slid on the mud fighting with her.”

Gabe's mouth twitched. “So you were putting your ass on the line for your client?”