“Oops. I suppose we should head outside. I heard there’s pit beef barbecue on the patio. For us humans.”
“That sounds more like it.” Scott grinned and lowered his Pupcake for Izzy to nibble on.
After consuming a plate of melt-in-your-mouth BBQ, they followed Isaac to the kennel. It was designed with a fa?ade that matched the house. Inside the temperature-controlled space, large open crates provided individual space for a dozen Argentinean mastiffs.
The presence of Hugo and Izzy on their home turf set off a barking and growling contest. That didn’t prevent Scott from walking Izzy down the line of crates.
Isaac’s eyes narrowed. “Why’s she sniffing like that?”
“Oh, Izzy has this thing about new scents. Until she’s sorted out which scent belongs to which dog she won’t be happy.” Cole hoped that explanation put Isaac off the fact that Izzy was meticulously sniffing for contraband.
At the end of the kennel, Izzy turned and came back, walking quickly with nose to the ground but never pausing long.
Scott nodded when they were done. “Nice accommodations. What’s in that area?” He nodded toward a short unlit hallway.
“The infirmary, for when the vet comes.”
“Can I see?”
Isaac shrugged.
Scott came back quickly, his expression neutral. “Impressive.”
Cole smiled. Nothing here to implicate the Colliers in puppy drug smuggling.
As they walked back toward the house, Scott’s cell phone vibrated in his pocket. He looked at the text and paused, his mouth tightening.
Cole, alert to his every shade of mood, looked back. “What?”
Scott looked up. “I got to take this. Can you get home if I’m not back in an hour?”
Cole met his gaze but he’d locked her out. “Okay.” She laid a hand on his arm, and squeezed. “I need to hear from you in an hour, either way.”
He nodded and left, taking Izzy with him.
*
Shajuanna and Eye-C reappeared five minutes later, with the birthday boy in tow. Shujaa wore Snoop Dogg fake braids and sunglasses. After the birthday song, the Birthday Dog was allowed to take a huge bite out of his specially prepared cake.
Afterward, Eye-C sat down at the piano in the living room and began playing.
Cole smiled as Shajuanna came over to stand by her. “He’s good.”
“Of course he’s good. He minored in music but jazz won’t pay the bills, not like hip-hop. You learn to play what the audience is buying. Who does his style remind you of?”
Cole thought about it. “Maxwell, and some D’Angelo, definitely. And Marvin Gaye.”
Shajuanna leaned back with an arch expression. “Listen to you, sounding all hip and shit.” She glanced around. “What happened to Boyfriend?”
“He remembered he had to be somewhere.”
Shajuanna swung a sharp glance her way. “He left you?”
“He said he’d be back in an hour.”
“Uh-huh.”
Cole turned away from her hostess’s long appraising look. “It was a much cozier party than I expected.”
“Eye-C and I agreed that once the girls became aware of things, he couldn’t bring Eye-C’s gangsta attitude under this roof. He leaves it at the door. I don’t question what happens when he’s not here. It’s about respect.”
Cole nodded, biting into the last of the barbecue on her plate. “The food is outrageous.”
Shajuanna stole a sliver off Cole’s plate and popped it in her mouth. “Growing up in Baltimore, I always wanted to own a restaurant. That way I thought I could be certain everyone in the neighborhood had enough to eat. Those that could would pay. Those that couldn’t would get a voucher for one free meal a day. My brother told me it was a crazy idea. He was going to be a professional baller and move us out of poverty.” She smiled. “This is his barbecue.”
“Really? I’m impressed.”
Shajuanna grinned. “Funny story. He took home economics in high school just to be in a classroom full of girls. Turns out, he was better at making yeast rolls than baskets. He went on to culinary school and now owns the restaurant I always wanted.”
“Did he follow up with your ideas?”
“He did better. Opened a soup kitchen near a shelter last year where all the meals are free, one per day. He asks for donations from the restaurant’s patrons to keep it going.”
“Your family sounds like self-starters.”
“We had to be.” Shajuanna paused as if deciding how much of herself she wanted to share. “Mom died when we were little and Dad worked two jobs to keep us in school. I was lucky enough to get an academic scholarship to college. I like nice things.” She spread her arm to include her room. “But I earn them. So does Eye-C.”
When Eye-C finished his set to lots of appreciative applause, Shajuanna nudged Cole. “You got a minute?”
Shajuanna led her away from the party into a media room and closed the doors. “Have a seat.”