Adam let him rattle on about New Age beverages and promotional opportunities on the information superhighway. Cabral liked to talk but he never really told you squat about himself.
“What brings you here?” Cabral asked when he’d finished with the lecture on how the Web had changed his clubs.
“A woman who used to…dance here is missing.”
“What’s it to you? Last I heard, you’d left the force.”
“That’s true. I’m in private security now. This is a personal matter.”
Cabral steepled his fingers and gazed at Adam. “I don’t get involved with the dancers. They’re not employees. They just try out for spots in the Saturday-night show.”
Adam nodded. Cabral was clever and managed to evade taxes as well as employment issues by letting women “try out” for places in his Saturday-night revue. The tips they could earn brought out more women than Cabral could use. Certain dancers kept “trying out” night after night.
“I don’t even know most of their names. They use stage names like Candy Rapper and Sin Cerely.”
“Do you remember Miranda Marshall?”
Cabral’s face was totally expressionless. If he’d been playing poker, Cabral could have been holding a winning or losing hand and no one could have guessed which. He finally said, “Describe her.”
Whitney had told him that Miranda looked a lot like her, so Adam rattled off a quick description.
“Could be half the cuties out there on any given evening.”
Cabral sounded convincing, but Adam wasn’t sure he believed him. “Last night someone tried to kill Miranda. They firebombed her place.”
Cabral frowned. “No shit.”
“Look, I didn’t tell the investigating officer that Miranda worked here.” Adam made it sound as if he actually knew the woman. “Level with me. Tell me what you know about her. I’ll chase down the leads myself without involving the police.”
Cabral stared at him a minute as if making up his mind, then said, “She called herself Kat Nippe. Her shtick-they all have a shtick-was the little-girl bit. She would prance out dressed like a kid going to school in a convent. That gave her a lot of clothes to take off.”
“Do you have any idea if she ran into someone around here who would want to kill her?”
The telephone on Cabral’s desk rang and he picked it up. “Cabral.”
Adam waited while the club owner listened.
“Fuck no!” Cabral stared at the picture on the wall next to his desk. It was a black-and-white photograph of his father outside the original Saffron Blue. “What don’t you understand? The fuck or the no?” He slammed down the telephone and smiled at Adam.
Adam tried to return his smile but he was pretty sure he just twisted his lips. The outburst had reminded Adam of what he’d learned three years ago. Jared Cabral was a man no one in their right mind would want to cross.
“If Miranda has an enemy,” Cabral said, as if the argument on the telephone had never occurred, “I sure as hell don’t know about it. She was a pro all the way when she worked here.”
“Has she been hanging out with anyone lately?”
Cabral’s eyes narrowed as he stared at Adam. “Just how well do you know Miranda Marshall?”
Something in Cabral’s tone told Adam to level with him or Cabral would stop talking. “I’ve never met the woman. My girlfriend is her cousin. Whitney was living in Miranda’s place. She almost died last night when someone tried to kill Miranda with a firebomb loaded with shrapnel.”
Cabral shook his head. “Wish I could help, but I don’t know a damn thing. Miranda hasn’t worked at Saffron Blue in a year and a half.”
CHAPTER TWENTY
WHITNEY HELD JASPER as she watched Kris Simpson bring out the teaser bitch. Jasper squirmed in her arms, anxious to be put down. Whitney didn’t have much experience breeding dogs. When she’d been in high school, she’d worked part-time at a kennel. She’d seen two breeding sessions between the owner’s Wheaten terrier bitch and a male who’d been brought in by his owner. No teaser bitch had been required.
“Ever seen an A.I.?” asked Kris.
Whitney shook her head. She supposed that if she’d thought about it, she would have realized champion dogs, like many champion racehorses, wouldn’t be allowed to breed on their own. The risk of injury was too great. The sperm was collected, then the bitch was artificially inseminated.
“Mandy is in heat and so is my crested, Princess Arianna. She was best in her class at Westminster last year.” Kris held up a small device that looked like a large syringe with a balloon-like sack on one end. “The teaser bitch gets the male excited, then I collect the sperm.”
“You’ll inseminate Princess Arianna yourself?”
“Yes. I’ll freeze the leftover sperm for use on my other bitches when they come into season. That’s why I paid so much money.” She patted Jasper on the head. “I’ll get three, maybe four litters out of this guy.”
Whitney had no idea what this woman had spent for Jasper’s services. Considering Jasper was an international champion, his offspring would be worth a lot. “Will we get the pick of the litter?”
Kris glared at Whitney. “Didn’t you read the contract? I’ll keep all of the puppies.”
“I didn’t see the contract,” Whitney muttered. “I just help Mr. Hunter with Jasper.”
Things must work differently when breeding champions, she decided. The owner of the male usually had pick of the litter.
“Put Jasper down and let him get a good sniff before I bag him.”
She set Jasper on the concrete floor. He looked up at her and whimpered. “Go on now,” she said encouragingly. Jasper pawed her shins, begging to be picked up again. Physically, he showed no sign of being interested in the teaser bitch.
Kris tapped her on the shoulder. “Let’s leave them alone. We can watch it on the television in my office. I can get back out here before he ejaculates.”
Whitney used her leg to scoot Jasper aside. She hurried out of the enclosure. Jasper scratched at the gate and yipped as if his paw had been caught in a trap.
Kris led Whitney down a short corridor to an office. The walls were lined with framed pictures of Chinese crested dogs and the ribbons they’d won. The photographs and ribbons were encased in Lucite boxes. A black satin ribbon was draped over one box and Whitney assumed that dog had died.
Kris sat behind a glass-top desk and carefully put down the collection device. Whitney took the chair opposite her. The breeder picked up the remote control and flicked on the wall-mounted flat-screen television. Jasper’s plaintive yips filled the room. The TV showed the little dog still pawing the gate while the teaser bitch kept circling behind him.
Kris frowned. “That’s what comes from holding a dog too much. I told Cal not to coddle his crested, but he wouldn’t listen. He took him everywhere with him.”
Whitney didn’t interrupt to tell her that Miranda had cared for Jasper some of the time. She must have been partly responsible for spoiling him.
“Now look, the dog can’t concentrate on his business.”
The cell phone clipped to Whitney’s shorts vibrated. Caller ID told her it was Adam. “I have a call I need to take.”
“Go ahead. I’ll monitor the dogs.”
Whitney could hear Jasper’s yelps still coming from the television as she walked outside into a blast of radiant sunshine. “What’s happening?”
“I’m just leaving Saffron Blue. Jared Cabral says Miranda hasn’t worked there in about eighteen months.”
“What?” Whitney stared out at the white picket fence that encircled the sprawling ranch house where the breeder lived with what appeared to be at least two dozen Chinese crested dogs.
She gazed up and down the road, mindful of Adam’s warning to keep her eye out for anyone suspicious. Nothing unusual was in sight.
“I was surprised, too. I assumed she’d been working there recently, but she hasn’t. Cabral didn’t seem to know much. I told him about the firebombing. He couldn’t think of anyone or anything your cousin had been involved in that would make someone want to kill her.”