Wags to Riches Page 13

  He spun on his heel and hurried toward the restaurant, effectively cutting off any opportunity to ask him any questions.

  But I was beginning to think they were questions I didn’t need to ask. I was already coming to my own conclusions. Because seeing Rudy skulk away from Carmen’s apartment reminded me of Gunther’s reaction when I asked about his relationship with Carmen. He’d looked nearly as uncomfortable when I asked as Rudy had when I spotted him descending the stairs.

  I was beginning to think I might know exactly how Carmen was pulling in her extra income to pay off her student loans: providing certain…services to male clients. I felt the heat rise in my cheeks at the thought. Not once, during even my most desperate and darkest moments, had I considered doing what I suspected she might be doing.

  I was standing on the sidewalk, still thinking about this, when I noticed someone else headed toward Carmen’s apartment.

  I shaded my eyes so I could get a better look.

  Sure enough, Gunther was approaching the stairs. He took them two at a time and then rapped a couple of times on the door. A few seconds later, it opened and he slipped inside.

  “She certainly is busy,” I muttered under my breath.

  Trixie looked up at me. Probably trying to figure out why we weren’t walking anymore.

  I stared at the closed apartment door for a minute and then made my decision.

  “Come on,” I told both dogs.

  I waited for a truck to lumber past and then stepped out into the road.

  My goal in coming to the marina had been to talk to Gunther.

  The fact that he was holed up in Carmen’s apartment felt like an added bonus.

  Because, considering the position I was going to find them in, he might be feeling particularly vulnerable. And that might mean I could catch him off-guard. Maybe he’d let some information slip, reveal a little more than he’d intended. And, obviously, Carmen could contribute some revelations of her own.

  I had to remind myself that, just because it seemed as though the evidence I’d discovered that afternoon now seemed to point to Gunther, I still couldn’t be sure Carmen wasn’t involved. Especially now, considering the fact that she was far more entwined with Gunther than I had previously realized.

  I took a deep, steadying breath and began my ascent to her apartment.

  All the thoughts swirling through my head were just theories, of course.

  But knocking on Carmen’s door and demanding answers was a surefire way to at least try to address some of them.

  TWENTY NINE

  I must have taken the stairs a little too quickly.

  Because Trixie and Duke seemed to think it was a sprint. They hurtled up the stairs in front of me, despite my best attempt to rein them in.

  “Sit,” I hissed, trying to keep my voice low so the people inside the apartment wouldn’t hear me.

  It worked.

  Because neither dog heard me, either. Instead, Trixie jumped up and pawed the apartment door, Duke following suit. The door pushed open and I couldn’t unsee the sight that greeted me.

  Gunther and Carmen sitting on the couch, locked in an embrace.

  They both jumped apart and I stood there frozen for a moment, not sure of my next move.

  But the guilty look on both of their faces helped me make up my mind.

  “Which one of you stole the money?” I blurted out.

  Carmen’s eyes were as big as saucers and Gunther was as pale as a ghost.

  “Or were you both in on it?”

  Their shocked looks told me nothing.

  Carmen shirked away from Gunther and tugged on the hem of her shirt. Thankfully, they were both still fully clothed. “What are you talking about?” she managed to ask.

  “Jonah’s money,” I said. My eyes were on Gunther. “Don’t play innocent and act like you don’t know what I’m talking about.”

  His eyes rounded. “I…I already told you,” he stammered. “All I took were recipe cards.”

  “I don’t believe you,” I said flatly. “I saw you at the coffee shop.” I watched as his eyes grew even bigger. “With the fake review. You’re purposely trying to sabotage Jonah’s business.”

  Gunther broke eye contact with me. He didn’t offer an explanation, but he didn’t deny it, either.

  “So where is the money?” I demanded. “What have you done with it?”

  “I didn’t take the money,” he said. When he looked back at me, his eyes were watery, as if he were on the verge of tears. “Don’t you understand? My restaurant is barely hanging on!”

  “Which is why you stole his money,” I said confidently. “For the financial cushion and to hopefully put him out of business. Stealing his recipes and leaving him bad reviews was just one more way to try to sink him.”

  He bolted to his feet and my first thought was that he was going to run. I glanced down at both dogs. They didn’t seem at all interested in Gunther. In fact, they just seemed to be relieved to be sitting in an air-conditioned room after the torturous heat outside. So much for the idea that they would sniff out danger or the bad guy.

  But Gunther didn’t try to escape. Instead, he fished his phone out of his pocket. He swiped the screen and a few seconds later held it out to show me.

  “What’s this?” I asked.

  “My bank account balance.”

  I peered at the screen. The number displayed was almost as low as my own dismal account.

  “So?” I folded my arms, and the dogs somehow decided to take this gesture as a sign that they could go off and explore. I dropped their leashes and they immediately lowered their noses to the carpet and started sniffing. “You probably have another account. Or maybe you have the cash stored somewhere else. Maybe you didn’t deposit it yet.”

  He shook his head and tapped the screen, then showed me.

  “What’s that?” All I saw was a list of emails.

  “Those are messages from my lawyer,” he said flatly. “About how to file for bankruptcy.”

  I read the subject lines.

  He wasn’t lying.

  “Why would I be talking about bankruptcy if I’d just stolen tens of thousands of dollars?” he asked. “You can see for yourself that the most recent message was from this morning.”

  My hope that Gunther was the one responsible for stealing Jonah’s cash deflated like a hastily popped balloon.

  I took a deep breath and shifted my attention to Carmen. “Well, what about you?”

  “Me?” she squeaked.

  I nodded. “Maybe your little prostitution gig didn’t cover all of your student loan debt. Maybe you stole the money to get back at Jonah for firing you and to provide a little financial cushion.”

  Carmen’s face turned a startling shade of red. But she wasn’t embarrassed; she was furious. “How dare you?” she seethed. “I am not a prostitute!”

  I motioned to Gunther. “So why is he here? Are you guys boyfriend and girlfriend or something?”

  Gunther cleared his throat. He was back to looking anywhere but at me.

  “And what about Rudy?” I asked. “Is he your boyfriend, too?” Carmen looked a little shell-shocked at the mention of his name. I gave her a thin smile. “Because I just saw him leave, too.”

  Gunther was still standing and I saw him begin to slowly inch toward the door. I could understand why. He didn’t want to be associated with Carmen’s illegal activity. Unfortunately for him, I’d caught him red-handed.

  “Well?” I said to Carmen. She had gone strangely quiet after exploding at me just a minute earlier. “Did you steal the money?”

  She let out a little gasp.

  “Do I take that as a yes?”

  Her lips tightened. “I am not a prostitute,” she said.

  “That wasn’t the question I was asking,” I reminded her.

  “I am not a prostitute,” she repeated, more firmly this time. “I am…a cuddler. A professional cuddler.”

  THIRTY

  Gunther was gone.


  He slipped out of the apartment as Carmen was speaking.

  I barely noticed. I was too focused on Carmen’s response.

  “A what?” I asked.

  Carmen sighed. “A cuddler.”

  I was at a complete and total loss.

  She leaned back into the couch and closed her eyes. “A professional cuddler. It’s exactly what it sounds like.”

  “So you…cuddle people?” I was still at a loss. Was that just another way to describe the world’s oldest profession?

  She nodded. “Yes.” She paused. “And that’s all I do.”

  I dropped down on the other side of the couch. “I’m still not following.”

  She opened her eyes. “I hug people. That’s my side hustle.”

  My mouth was hanging open now. “People pay you money to…to hug them?”

  “Yes. And they pay big money,” she said. “People are desperate for human connection, for the power of physical touch. But we live in such a digital age now. So many of our friendships happen through social media and text that people don’t have that in-person connection. And people need physical touch for their emotional and physical well being.”

  I tried to process what she was telling me, the logistics and the explanation behind this supposed profession, but I was still baffled by her words. “So you just…hug them?”

  Carmen nodded. “That’s it. I swear. All my clients have to sign a contract, recognizing the limitations of our physical connection. We can talk while we cuddle if the client wants that, but no other physical touch takes place. I swear it.”

  Jonah’s money was now the furthest thing from my mind. Because I had so many questions about what Carmen was doing.

  “How…?” My voice trailed off. I was so flabbergasted I couldn’t even form a sentence.

  “How what?”

  “How does one get…?” I still couldn’t form a complete sentence.

  She finished it for me. “How did I get started?”

  I managed a small nod.

  “I saw an article about a year ago. A woman who was a professional cuddler in New York, and how she was making bank.” Carmen shrugged. “And I figured maybe I could give it a try. I’m a pretty affectionate person, and I’ve worked in the hospitality business for a few years. How hard could it be?”

  Really hard, I thought, flinching at the thought of having to hug people I didn’t know or particularly care about. What if they smelled like body odor or…or tuna fish? What if they had bad breath? What if they smothered me? What if they were so fragile in my arms that I inadvertently broke a bone or two of theirs? Did she have age limitations? Did she accept clients of all genders? My mind was spinning.

  “And so you just decided to do it here?” I asked. The jump from being a professional cuddler in New York to opening a business on the tiny island of Sweetwater seemed like a pretty big leap.

  “Not at first,” Carmen said. “I started in Charleston and then took a few clients in Savannah, too. You know, the bigger cities. That’s why I would run late for work or call in sick sometimes at Jonah’s. Because I was stuck in traffic or an appointment didn’t start on time or whatever.” She grimaced. “I always felt bad about doing that to Jonah, but this gig pays a ton of money, especially when you add on tips.”

  I hated to admit it, but I was intrigued.

  “Anyway, I decided it would be nice to have at least a couple of clients closer to home so I put out a few feelers here. You know, message boards and stuff.”

  I swallowed. “There are boards for…for cuddlers?”

  She nodded. “Yeah, a lot of clients from small towns will travel to metro areas for their cuddles. I just figured I’d see if there were any people close to Sweetwater who might be interested.”

  “And there were.”

  She gave a small nod. “Gunther was my first client.”

  “And Rudy?” I asked.

  “Today was my first time meeting with him.” She smiled. “He was a little nervous.”

  “Rudy’s always a little nervous,” I told her, thinking of his reaction to the dogs and to life in general.

  “He did just fine,” she said. She twisted a lock of hair between her fingers. “I have a couple of other clients, too. Even people you know.”

  For some reason, I thought of Asher and Tate. And immediately hoped they weren’t the people she was referring to.

  “So, anyway,” Carmen said, not elaborating on who those other clients were. “Now you know. I’m not running some prostitution ring out of my house. Cuddling is how I paid off my loan debts. I’m making good money doing this—like, more money than you can imagine—and it’s left me time to pursue some other side gigs, too.”

  I was almost afraid to ask what those were. But something else kept me from asking. Because I still didn’t have the answer the most important question I had.

  “And Jonah’s money?” I asked.

  She gave me a hard look. “I didn’t take it. I was upset about being fired, of course, but I was upset with myself. Because I’d let Jonah down. But I didn’t steal anything from him. I don’t need it.”

  She said it so matter-of-factly that it was hard to think she wasn’t telling the truth. I mean, she’d already spilled her deepest, darkest secret.

  I tried not to sigh. I felt like I was right back where I started.

  Nowhere.

  “You really don’t have any leads?” she asked.

  I hated to admit it but I shook my head. “Nope.”

  She frowned. “What about someone who works at the restaurant?”

  “Like who?” I asked. “Do you have anyone in mind?” I’d asked her this before, when I’d first talked to her at the cupcake shop, and the only person she’d mentioned was Gunther.

  Carmen thought for a minute. “Not really,” she said. “I mean, he gets in little arguments with people here and there. You know, servers who want more hours or prep cooks who mess up dishes and he rides them about it. But nothing that really stands out.”

  I thought about the three employees I’d interacted with the most. I’d ruled Davis out, based on what he’d told me about his past and how he’d ended up at the restaurant. Maggie and Brenda had both mentioned to me that they wanted more hours, but neither of them seemed terribly upset about not getting them.

  No, I couldn’t see either of them taking the extraordinary step of stealing Jonah’s money.

  But I also hadn’t seen Carmen being a professional cuddler, either. Or Gunther and Rudy on her client list.

  I pushed off the couch and looked for the dogs. Duke had settled down on the tile floor in the kitchen and Trixie was in the corner of the dining area with something hanging out of her mouth. I hurried over to her and yanked the item from her jaws, flinching at the feel of the soggy, half-eaten business card now in my hand.

  “Sorry,” I said to Carmen, holding the card up. “I think she somehow got ahold of this.”

  Carmen waved her hand. “It’s just a business card. I’ve got a whole box full.”

  I glanced at it. Trixie had chewed up the lower half of the card but the words “Comfort Cuddles” were still visible. I shoved it in my pocket and whistled for Duke. He immediately got to his feet and trotted over.

  I grabbed both dogs’ leashes.

  “Wendy?” Carmen said. “Can…can we keep this between the two of us? My business?” She blew out a breath. “It’s just…I think some people on the island might come to the wrong conclusion. Sort of like you did.”

  It was a fair jab at me, and a valid concern. This was the South, after all. There was hospitality, of course, but paying someone for hugs probably didn’t fall into that category, at least as far as the locals might be concerned.

  “I understand,” I told her. “I won’t say anything.”

  Her relief was almost palpable. “Thank you.” She paused. “If there’s anything I can do to help figure out what happened to Jonah’s money, I hope you’ll let me know. He’s a good guy…a little
hot-tempered sometimes, but good.” She frowned. “And he doesn’t deserve what’s happening to him.”

  I agreed.

  “Thanks,” I said. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  Unfortunately, I didn’t have the slightest clue how she could help.

  Because I had no idea where to go from here.

  THIRTY ONE

  I had no ideas. No suspects.

  Those were the only things I was thinking about as I descended the steps from Carmen’s apartment.

  I had completely failed in finding Jonah’s money.

  And in doing so, I’d failed my attempt to get my hands on some desperately needed cash for myself.

  I took a deep breath and immediately regretted it as the hot and humid air traveled down my windpipe and adhered to my lungs. I made a sort of choking sound, causing both dogs to look at me with raised eyebrows.

  “I’m fine,” I managed to rasp.

  Trixie continued to stare, her brown eyes locked in on me like a laser.

  I glared at her. She could be so judgmental sometimes. Duke, on the other hand, had flopped down on the sidewalk and was methodically licking his hind leg while he waited for me to decide to keep walking.

  There was a patch of shade by the curb, a thick oak whose branches were loaded down with graying Spanish moss. I stood under it for a minute, taking shelter from the relentless sun, as I contemplated how to tell Jonah I’d gotten nowhere with the case he’d entrusted to me.

  Gunther and Carmen had proved to be dead-ends. Who else did that leave as a potential suspect? My mind immediately went back to Davis and his uncle, simply because it was the only other option, but I knew it really wasn’t. Davis had explained why he was working at the restaurant, and he’d explained why his uncle had been there. Was it possible that, despite those explanations, they were still responsible for stealing the money? I didn’t think so.

  I started to sigh again and then thought better of it. My lungs were still wet. Instead, I reached for my phone, my fingers closing reluctantly around the device. I just needed to call Jonah and tell him. If I were braver, I’d cross the street and tell him in person that I was abandoning the case. But I wasn’t.