The Girl With The Dachshund Tattoo Part 13

"Why would Richard confide in you? He didn't seem like someone who spilled secrets to random strangers or acquaintances," I said.

Her amber eyes darkened with emotion. "We weren't random strangers."

"So you have some type of history? I heard there was an altercation last year between a protester and a racer. Was that you and Richard?"

"You heard wrong. Lenny Santucci argued with a judge. He thought she was playing favorites. There were no problems between anyone in our organization and a racer.

"So you and Richard were what? Friends?" As in friends with benefits?

Fallon started to answer, but Hagan Stone suddenly called out my name, stopping her cold. The three of us turned in his direction as he bounded our way. MacAvoy cursed under his breath. I had to agree, Hagan had horrible timing.

"h.e.l.lo, Ms. Langston. I wasn't sure you were here." Hagan sounded out of breath. What was so important that he felt the need to run?

"I'm definitely here." Oh, dang. The booth. I still needed to unpack the merchandise.

Hagan sucked in one last deep breath, then let it out in a rush. "I won't need you as a judge after all. Thank you for your willingness to help. I do so appreciate it."

While I was distracted with Hagan, Fallon seized the opportunity to slink off without a word. Darn. I had more questions for her.

"I'm glad it all worked out." Because my promise to judge had completely slipped my mind. I was about to excuse myself so I could chase after Fallon until I noticed Hagan's gaze collide with MacAvoy.

The intensity was palpable. Hagan's expression morphed from grat.i.tude into a mixture of surprise and then worry. I would have thought he'd be happy to know the event was being covered by the media. Even if it was by the noon reporter. Everyone knows, beggars can't be choosers.

"It's nice to see you again, Mr. MacAvoy," Hagan said. His normally charming tone lacked sincerity.

"Stone. I hear congratulations are in order." MacAvoy's smile was anything but happy for Hagan. "I heard you bought a bar in the Florida Keys."

Hagan's face became unreadable. "My, it's a small world. That's not public knowledge." His words came out stilted, forced, as if suppressing the urge to lose his temper. "Who told you?"

MacAvoy held out his hands, palms up. "As a reporter, I can't reveal my sources."

The words were innocuous. An excuse you'd expect from reporter. But there was underlying meaning floating over my head that only they understood. By the glares they shared, I got the feeling they didn't just dislike each other, but they didn't trust one another either.

I was clearly at a disadvantage in this conversation. But that didn't stop me from jumping in with both feet.

"Hagan, I was curious. There's a filmmaker at the event. She's shooting a dogumentary about wiener racing. Have you talked to her?"

He s.h.i.+fted a fixed gaze in my direction, body stiff. "I met with her yesterday. I believe I was one of the first people she interviewed. Fascinating young woman." His tone suggested she wasn't a good kind of fascinating.

"Have you seen her today?"

"I can't say that I have. Did you need to speak with her?"

I'd wanted Betty's gun back, but I kept that to myself. "I'd like to talk to her about the alleged doping and gambling operation."

"Pardon?" His eyebrows lifted in surprise. "You must be confused."

"No, not at all. In fact, I've talked to enough people that I know it's all true."

"As the Chairman of the Board, the doping allegations shouldn't be a shock to you," MacAvoy piped up.

For a second I thought Hagan's strained smile was because of what I'd said, until I realized he was looking at MacAvoy. I shot Mr. TV a "back off" look. Why did he have such a difficult time staying out of my Q&A session?

"She might have mentioned the possibility of some contestants using supplements of some kind," Hagan conceded.

"I'm not trying to get anyone in trouble." I held up my hands in an effort to ease the building tension. "There are a lot of rumors floating around about doping. Today I heard about an underground gambling group. And another thing I've been wondering. Does anyone know why her company, Bright Eyes, decided to film our race? Was it luck of the draw or does she have information the rest of us don't? Is this supposed dogumentary really an expose and we're going to get caught up in it?"

MacAvoy jerked his head around. Had I actually thought of a scenario he hadn't?

"I know nothing about gambling. Perhaps you've been hanging around the wrong crowd." Hagan quickly shot a hostile look at MacAvoy before managing to look at me with concern. I wasn't convinced of his sincerity. About being concerned, that is. I believed his hostility. I was p.r.o.ne to feel it myself when it came to the handsome reporter.

"I have numerous tasks to attend to before race time. And I do believe your booth has yet to be unpacked, Ms. Langston." Hagan turned on his heel and charged off, effectively dismissing us.

I'd just been served.

Hagan was hiding something. Just like Fallon. I'd get to the bottom of it, sooner or later.

MacAvoy continued to watch Hagan walk away. "You gave me some advice yesterday. Let me return the favor. Don't get too comfortable around him."

"Hagan Stone?"

He nodded.

I shrugged, unconcerned. "He's harmless."

"He's dangerous."

His flat tone made me turn and look at him.

"O-kay. Dangerous as in he'll turn a blind eye to potentially harmful conditions for the dogs? Or dangerous as in he'll kill me?"

MacAvoy aimed his intense green eyes on me. "If you keep him from getting what he wants most, he'll remove you."

h.e.l.ls bells. Getting in the way was my forte.

Chapter Sixteen.

I RUSHED TO THE booth, ignoring my growling stomach as I pa.s.sed the food trucks. The delicious aroma of fish tacos, chicken alfredo pizza, and gourmet hot dogs begged me to take a minute for lunch. But I was strong. Okay, let's be honest. I was in complete panic mode. Any other day, I'd have stopped for a fish taco. Maybe even a hot dog with grilled onions, cheddar cheese, and bacon. My mouth watered thinking about all the delicious food options at my fingertips.

All the other vendors in my row had their merchandise arranged and ready to sell. Fans started to trickle in. The second I reached Bow Wow Boutique's booth, I tossed aside my backpack and went to work.

Dog bowls and boxes of treats. Collars and leads. Paw-wear and outerwear. Key chains and dog toys. I was a stacking, folding, and hanging maniac. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of Darby heading my way.

Without a word, she stashed her camera and messenger bag under the table. She grabbed the last plastic tote and immediately started to unload.

"You are a G.o.dsend. How much time do we have?" I asked.

"First race starts in an hour."

I scooped up an armful of grooming supplies. I hung the soft bristled brushes as quickly as possible. "I got sidetracked with Doctor Daniel. Then I literally ran into Fallon Keller." Once the brushes were displayed, I started on the combs.

"I still haven't heard from, nor seen, Betty since yesterday. Who knows what she's up to?" I continued to rattle off the morning activities at warp speed. "Get this, Valerie showed up at the boutique today, begging me to talk to Betty and get her to confess all of her dirty little secrets. And to top it all off, Callum MacAvoy knows Stephanie."

Darby pushed back the hair from her eyes. "I'm not even sure where to start. The only person you didn't mention was Grey."

"That's because his was the only name you were listening for." I stacked the last metal grooming comb next to the other four on the table. "We're having dinner tonight. To talk." Antic.i.p.ation and anxiety knotted in my stomach.

After I hung the last pup sweater, we stepped back to survey our handiwork. It wasn't Betty-Beautiful, but we were ready for business.

I hugged Darby. "I couldn't have done it without you. You're the best."

She tilted her head. "I've always got your back. Mel, I know it's none of my business, but if you need to talk about whatever is going on between you and Grey, I'm here."

I nodded. I desperately wanted to confide in her. I needed a sounding board and levelheaded advice. But in order to do that, I'd have to divulge the truth about Grey's FBI job, and that option was off the table.

"I know. I appreciate it. There's not a lot to tell. I crossed a line and he has every right to be mad. We're working it out. I promise."

A sliver of suns.h.i.+ne broke through the dark clouds, as Darby said, "I can't imagine you've done anything he can't forgive."

Guilt kept me from looking at her for too long. I stashed the empty totes under the table. "Did you find Malone and give him your photos yesterday?"

She nodded. "He was actually very receptive. He even thanked me."

I laughed, picturing how difficult that must have been for him. "How very un-Malone-like. You know, he's done a couple of un-Malone-like things lately. I wonder why."

Darby shrugged. "I try not to think about him."

Talking about the ever-so-serious detective made me remember the bet Sven had asked me to place. I reached for the crinkled twenty shoved in my pocket. "Have you heard anything about a gambling ring?" I asked Darby.

"No, but I've heard talk between some of the other vendors and fans about friendly wagers being placed."

I pulled my hair back into a quick ponytail and sighed. "I think there's more to it than that."

"Like organized crime?" Darby asked in a hushed voice.

I shook my head. "Sven, from the Koffee Klatch, made it sound like he was placing a low-key wager. At the time I believed him. But when I ran into Lenny at Rodney's chili truck, I got the feeling it was more serious than a simple friendly wager. Speaking of chili, I'm starving. I haven't eaten lunch."

Darby opened her messenger bag and pulled out a snack-sized energy bar. "Here."

"Are you sure?" I practically had it unwrapped before she could answer.

"I've got two more."

"Thank you," I managed to say around a mouthful of rolled oats and chocolate chips.

The mini-bar was gone in two bites. I was about to suggest a quick trip to the food trucks before we were swamped with customers when I saw Grey pop out from behind a young family of four who were all dressed like Underdog-capes included.

"Grey's here." I sounded like a teen girl who was about to be caught with a boy in her room.

Darby leaned against me, peeking over my shoulder. "I thought he wasn't coming."

I turned toward my best friend, quickly wiping the crumbs from the corner of my mouth. "Do I have chocolate smeared across my face?"

Darby held me at arm's length and gave me a quick best-friend-once-over. "You look fine."

"Yeah, well, if my Mama was here she'd tell me to slap on some lipstick." My mother thought everything was better, or at least easier to ignore, if she was in full makeup. And jewelry. Mama could easily be confused with a model at a Tiffany's photo shoot.

I looked back in Grey's direction and waved. He nodded in acknowledgment. He'd dressed down today. Dark jeans with an untucked cobalt blue, b.u.t.ton-up s.h.i.+rt. It felt like my stomach was performing an Irish clog dance. The closer Grey got, the stronger the clog-stomping.

"Do you want me to leave?" Darby asked.

"Absolutely not." I may have sounded slightly panicked, which, given the fact that I felt like I was about to go on my first blind date, was perfectly normal.

"Does he have a Gina's Pizza to-go bag?" Darby asked.

I sighed in food l.u.s.t at the brown paper bag clutched in his left hand. Gina's Pizza was my favorite restaurant. "Yes, he does."

"Good afternoon, ladies." Grey's deep voice shook me to my toes.

"Hey," I said, dividing my attention between his handsome face and the food.

"Hi," Darby said through an amused smile. "She missed lunch."

My mouth watered as the smell of marinara tickled my nose. "Please tell me that's a meatball sandwich." If this was his version of a peace offering, I accepted.

Grey peeked inside the bag and acted like he wasn't sure I'd want it. "Well, it's only a half and no longer warm. Oh, and I have a bottle of water."

I held out my hand. "Perfect."

He chuckled as he handed me the food. "I took a chance you missed lunch."

If I wasn't already in love with him, I'd fall in love all over again. Obviously, I could be bribed with food.

"Any sign of Betty and her gun?" he asked.

"Not yet. We're no longer the only ones looking for the filmmaker either. Apparently, she recorded Gia threatening her. Now Gia wants the video."

"I hate to say it, but that would make great footage," Darby said.

"What about you? Did you have any luck?" I asked Grey as I pulled out the sandwich and unwrapped one end. I inhaled the sweet smell of marinara as I lifted the sandwich to my mouth. My teeth bit into the toasted bread with a loud crunch. I closed my eyes and sighed. Heaven.

He shook his head. "Unfortunately, no. Have you heard from Malone?"