CHAPTER ONE
“Yes, tomorrow will be fine for me,” Marty said to Dick, the regional manager of the insurance company who used her to appraise high-end antiques and art for their clients in the Palm Springs area.
“Tell me a little bit about the client, so I have some idea of what I’ll be appraising.”
“Well, the only words that leap out to me are dog lover. And I mean to the extreme,” Dick said. “I went over to her house the other day to take a walk-through to see if she needed an appraisal, and the answer was a decided yes. However, what you’re going to be appraising is probably unlike anything you’ve ever appraised before.”
“How so?” Marty asked, her curiosity piqued.
“Let me give you a little background on Deidre Rogers. She’s about forty-five and quite beautiful. One of those green-eyed red-headed women with a complexion like alabaster. She was married to the founder of one of the dot.coms who made millions, if not billions, by selling the company before the dot.com crash.”
“Smart man,” Marty said. “I had a couple of stocks I wish I’d been able to unload before that crash.”
“Unfortunately, there’s a long line ahead of you,” Dick said. “Anyway, back to Deidre. She was what many would call a trophy wife, quite a bit younger than her husband. When he died five years ago, she inherited his fortune. He never had children, so even though she was his third wife, she got it all.”
“For some reason, her name rings a bell.”
“Unless you’ve been living under a rock for the past few years, I’d imagine it would. Even before her husband died, she was very active in the dog show world. She breeds and raises Maltipoos. Evidently her passion is to get that breed recognized by the American Kennel Club, but so far, no luck.”
“That’s where I recognize her name from. I believe she recently funded that new dog shelter just outside of Palm Springs, you know, the one that sits on about ten acres of prime real estate,” Marty said.
“There’s been a lot written about it in the paper the last few months. I guess she outbid every developer, and a lot of the wealthy people in Palm Springs are not happy about it.
“She’s made a lot of enemies. In some circles, such as the wealthy developer circle, she’s hated and feared. They’re afraid of what she’ll do next, since money doesn’t seem to be a problem for her. Now she’s talking about buying a golf course, believe it or not, and turning it into a very high-end boarding kennel.”
“A golf course? I must have missed that article,” Marty said.
“Plural, Marty, plural. Not one article, but many in the last few months. And the thing is, the golf course she’s targeted also happens to be a very exclusive one surrounded by millionaires’ homes. Since its owned by an individual, the members have no say if a sale takes place. Can you imagine having a multi-million-dollar home looking at a kennel rather than a golf course, and where dogs are barking all day and all night? It boggles the mind.”
“Wow! I think that’s what I like most about living where I do. None of those worries are attached to the little four-house compound my sister Laura owns. I love dogs, as you well know, but facing a kennel day and night and listening to barking dogs? No, thanks.”
“Laura was smart when she bought the compound, but as my best employee, nothing she does surprises me,” Dick said. “Anyway, back to this appraisal. As I said, it’s going to be a little different than anything you’ve ever done.”
“What’s different about it?” Marty asked.
“Well, almost everything is about dogs. The fine art, glass pieces, ceramics, rugs, you name it.”
“Seriously?”
“Yeah, seriously. I mean like having a three-foot hand-formed Lalique glass piece in the form of a Maltipoo. And that’s only one of many. Everything she commissioned has a Maltipoo in it or on it. It’s kind of surreal, but the stuff does need to be appraised.”
“I’ve never heard of anyone doing that,” Marty said incredulously.
“Nor have I, and I have no idea where you’re going to find comparables, because most of the stuff has been commissioned by her, so it’s all one-of-a-kind. For instance, she traveled to some company in Europe and had a complete dinnerware set commissioned. She told me it was hand-painted with a picture of one of her champion Maltipoos on every piece. Should be a challenge for you.”
“Thanks, Dick,” she said sarcastically. “I have no idea where to begin.”
“You might start by looking her up on the Internet and see what you can find out. I don’t like to gossip, but over the years, there’s been some talk that she and some of the handlers she’s used for her dogs when they’re in a dog show have a more than business relationship with her, if you know what I mean.”
“I doubt that will affect the appraisal.”
“You never know, Marty, you just never know. Anyway, she wants you there tomorrow at 9:00 for a walk-through, so you can give her an estimate of how long your appraisal will take. I told her you’d be there.”
“I think in addition to searching the Internet I’ll go and see what Carl knows about her. If anyone can help me, it will be him. I’ll call you after the appraisal and tell you how it went.”
“Looking forward to it. And Marty, think I’d leave Patron home when you do this one. From the yapping I heard when I was in the house, I don’t know how many dogs she has, but I rather doubt that an 80-pound boxer like Patron would be welcome.”
“You’re probably right. Thanks for the heads up.”
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