Death at the Dog Show

by Grace York

  Addison set about dividing the cake mixture between the paper cases. She and Adam had to be careful how much of the investigation they could share without contravening her confidentiality clause. The whole strychnine poisoning aspect of the case hadn't been revealed to the public yet.

  "It just means they need to follow up with a person of interest again," said Addison. "They'll see what that person knows, given what Adam found out today. They have a number of suspects, and a few new leads to follow." Addison decided it was best not to share the information about Kendall Short's young cousin and his possible involvement in letting the dogs loose.

  "What new leads?" asked Adam. He wasn't as bothered by the confidentiality clause. Or maybe he was just too enthusiastic. Either way, Addison shot him a look that shut him up for now.

  Addison put the muffin pan into the oven, set her kitchen timer for twenty minutes, and started to clean up the mess she'd made while Adam, Brooke, and Lenny chatted away. Brooke and Lenny quickly lost interest in the case, thankfully, and started discussing the writing projects each of them were working on. Adam disappeared up the stairs. Addison listened to Brooke and Lenny, fascinated by how productive the two of them were. They'd only been at the beach house for a month, but Brooke was already three quarters of the way into the first draft of book one of her new romance series.

  "I don't know how you do it," Addison said when there was a break in their conversation.

  "Do what?" asked Brooke.

  "Write so fast. I struggle to add a couple of paragraphs to my journal each day, let alone produce a book in a couple of months."

  Lenny grinned. "We weren't always this fast," he said, sipping his coffee. "But we've been writing for more than ten years. This is our livelihood. If we don't write, we won't have books to sell, and we won't make any money. It's that simple."

  "Plus we each have fans waiting for the next book," added Brooke. "That's what keeps me working, more than the money. We get emails and messages from readers who tell you they loved the last book you wrote and can't wait for the next one. Strangers who take the time to thank you for your work. It's the best feeling, getting one of those emails."

  Addison could understand that. She'd written to a few authors herself over the years to let them know how much she loved their books. She'd never thought of it from the author's point of view, though. She made a mental note to do it more often.

  Brooke and Lenny headed back to their room to do a little more work before afternoon tea, and Addison finished cleaning up the kitchen. She was just preparing the coffee icing for the muffins when Adam came back down to join her. He had his laptop with him.

  "I've been googling Lucy McGregor," he said, perching himself back on his favourite kitchen stool. "Haven't found anything useful, though."

  "Maybe Isaac and the others will have more luck," said Addison.

  "Yeah, maybe. So what are these new leads?"

  With Brooke and Lenny safely back upstairs, Addison filled him in on the discovery of Short's cousin under the table with a sling shot.

  "You think the kid might have targeted the dogs?"

  "I don't know. I'd like to think not, but little boys can get up to mischief. Isaac is going to speak to him, and I'm sure he'll get the boy to own up if he's responsible. Which would rule out your theory of the killer creating the distraction."

  Adam nodded. "Doesn't mean he or she didn't take advantage of the distraction, though."

  "No, I guess not." Addison's timer went off, so she checked the muffins with a skewer. It wasn't quite clean, so she put them back in for another couple of minutes.

  "So where to next?" asked Adam.

  Addison had had enough of the case for a while. It was a lovely day outside, and she fancied sitting out on the back verandah. She looked out the window and saw Charlie and Bella playing happily in the backyard. "Why don't you go next door and invite Mrs Jones in for afternoon tea."

  18

  The coffee and walnut muffins had been such a hit that Addison decided to make a second batch the next morning for Hazel. She also baked a loaf of raspberry, pear, and banana bread, a jam and cream sponge cake, and some flourless chocolate biscuits for Hazel's gluten free customers. She loaded it all into her basket, then fed Charlie and refreshed his water bowl before heading off to the café.

  It was after nine when she arrived at Hazel's, by which time the place was usually buzzing with customers. Today, though, things seemed quieter, and Addison decided to drink her coffee there rather than getting it to go as she usually did. She was planning to go over to the police station again to check on the progress of the case, but that could wait.

  Addison was pleased to see Holly behind the counter, and the young woman seemed equally pleased to see Addison.

  "Where have you been?" Addison asked once they'd exchanged greetings.

  "Hazel gave me some time off to help Hugh with his business. He's getting so many customers he's having trouble keeping up. I've been doing the bookwork for him at night, but he needed help with a few things during office hours."

  "Maybe he needs an assistant?" Addison suggested.

  "Yes, that's what I said. But he's keen to minimise costs while he's just starting out, which makes sense. And I don't mind helping, as long as Hazel can give me the time off."

  "Anything to support another small business," said Hazel, from under the counter. She was busy stacking all of Addison's baked goods into the display cabinet. "These muffins smell delicious," she added.

  "They're a new recipe I found in one of my favourite magazines," said Addison. "With a few of my own modifications, of course."

  "Of course," said Hazel and Holly in unison. They were both well aware of Addison's habit of never following a recipe exactly.

  A few more customers entered the café, and Addison took her coffee to a table in the corner. She'd thought to bring the book she was currently reading with her, and she pulled it out and opened it at the bookmark. She quickly got engrossed in the story, as she always did, and was surprised when she looked up a while later to find that it was well past ten o'clock.

  "Would you like another coffee, Addison?" Holly asked. Hazel was nowhere to be seen.

  "No thank you," Addison replied, packing her book away into her bag and picking up the empty basket she'd set down beside her. "I'd better be getting on." She was halfway to standing when Helen Abbott walked into the café. Addison was so surprised to see the woman that she immediately sat down and watched her approach the counter.

  "Good morning," said Holly with a big, friendly smile. "What can I get for you?"

  "I… I'm not sure, dear." Addison couldn't see her face clearly, but from the angle she was at Helen seemed flustered.

  "Would you like to sit in and have a cup of tea or coffee?" Holly asked. "Or were you thinking of getting something to take with you?"

  Helen looked around the small interior of the café, and out the window to the tables outside. She seemed to be contemplating Holly's question, and about to give an answer, when she burst into tears.

  Holly immediately lifted the barrier in the counter and came through to wrap the woman in a big hug. Addison searched her bag for a tissue, then stood awkwardly behind Helen waiting for Holly to let her go.

  "Here," said Addison, holding out the tissue once Holly had finally stepped back behind the counter.

  "Thank you," said Helen, accepting the offering. "Thanks to both of you. I'm sorry, it's just… my husband…" She pointed to the sponge cake. "That was his favourite," she said, before bursting into tears all over again.

  "Come and sit down," said Addison, leading Helen back to her table. "Holly will make you a nice cup of tea." She raised her eyebrows at Holly, who nodded and set to work.

  "Thank you. You're very kind." Helen took a seat, and then studied Addison's face. "You're the lady who tried to help my Perry when he… on Saturday night."

  "That's right. I'm Addison Lake. I'm so sorry for your loss. It's Helen, isn't it?" Addison k
new her name, of course, but she didn't want to seem too familiar. It felt intrusive, and she was suddenly self-conscious of her knowledge of the investigation into this woman's husband's murder.

  "Yes. Helen Abbott." Helen used the tissue to dry her eyes, and Addison gave her a moment to compose herself. Holly brought over the tea, placing it in front of Helen before backing away quietly.

  After a few minutes of watching Helen stare at the teapot, Addison leaned forward. "Can I pour that for you?"

  "Pardon?" Helen looked up as if noticing Addison for the first time. "Oh, yes please. Sorry, I was just thinking…"

  "It's okay," said Addison as she poured the tea. "You've suffered a terrible loss. Would you like to talk about it?"

  "I've just come from the police station," Helen explained. "They've confirmed that my Perry was murdered. I knew it was something bad, of course. But I think I was hoping he'd had some kind of allergic reaction or something."

  "Did Perry have any allergies?" Addison asked.

  "No. No, I knew in my heart someone must have done this to him. But it's still a shock to hear the police say it."

  "I can't imagine how you must feel about that," said Addison. "But if it helps at all, I lost my husband a couple of years ago. The pain never fully goes away, but it does get better."

  Helen nodded. She lifted the tea cup to her mouth and took the tiniest of sips. She returned it to the saucer and spooned sugar in before taking another sip.

  "I think I needed that. Thank you."

  Addison wasn't sure if Helen was referring to her words or the tea, but she didn't ask. She sensed the woman wanted to talk, so she just sat back and waited.

  "I just can't stand not knowing who did this to him," said Helen. "And why? I know Perry wasn't the nicest of men. He was brash and arrogant, and he could make life very difficult for people. But that wasn't the real Perry. Not the man I shared my life with."

  "Who was the real Perry?" Addison prompted.

  Helen smiled. "He was a very caring man at home," she said. "The arrogant lawyer was a persona, one he'd adapted to cope with the horrors of his job. He was a criminal lawyer, you know."

  "No, I didn't know that," said Addison. She noticed Hazel had returned and was staring at her with a baffled look. Helen's back was to the counter, so she didn't see the café owner's confusion.

  "He had to defend all sorts of bad people," Helen went on. "He hated it when he knew in his heart they were guilty. He became hardened on the outside, but at home he was still the kind, sweet man I married."

  Helen went on, describing the Perry she had known, and Addison knew it would do the widow good to talk. She'd been thankful herself for the chance to talk about Rob after he'd passed away, grateful to the friends who'd understood and listened. She hoped Helen had people around her to support her.

  "Do you have any family staying with you, Helen? It's not a good time for you to be alone."

  "My daughter lives in Perth with her husband," Helen answered. "They're coming over for the funeral; they arrive tomorrow. And I have some good friends, of course. But I'm struggling to stay in the house, to be honest. Too many memories of Perry."

  "Do you have somewhere else you can stay?" Addison wondered whether she should offer a room at the beach house. She had one spare at the moment, soon to be two when Layla moved out.

  "Not really. Perry and I were about to… oh, it doesn't matter now."

  "What doesn't matter?"

  "We were going to go on a cruise," said Helen. "The first of our travel plans for his retirement. My daughter thinks I should still go, after the funeral. But it doesn't seem right to go without him."

  "What would Perry have wanted you to do?" Addison asked.

  Helen sipped her tea. "I don't know. I suppose he wouldn't have wanted me to miss out… I can't stay in the house, and I don't want to be a bother to anyone. It would be devastating to go away without him, though." Helen reached out a hand to Addison. "What would you do, dear?"

  Addison wasn't sure she could have gone on a holiday so soon after Rob's death, but she definitely understood the need to get away from the everyday reminders of a lost love. She'd moved interstate for that very reason.

  "It doesn't matter what I'd do," she answered. "Or anyone else for that matter. You have to do what's right for you. If I learnt anything after losing my husband, it was the importance of looking after myself."

  Helen nodded. "You might be right. I'll think about it. Maybe I could ask for permission to scatter his ashes at sea."

  "That's not a bad idea," said Addison.

  "Look at me, taking up all of your time and you barely even know me." Helen finished her tea and took out her purse.

  "It's no problem at all," said Addison. "I'm glad I could help."

  Helen smiled. "You have a very kind face, Addison. Thank you."

  "You're welcome." Addison watched Helen pay for her tea and leave, with one last longing look at the jam and cream sponge cake. She made her own way to the counter, thinking of buying a coffee to take over to Isaac, when a thought suddenly occurred to her.

  If Perry Abbott was a criminal defence lawyer, wouldn't he have racked up a decent list of disgruntled clients over the years?

  19

  "It's not a bad theory," said Isaac, placing the coffee Addison had just presented to him exactly in the middle of the coaster on his desk. "Helen Abbott just asked me that same question. But we checked out all the attendees at the dog show dinner that night. None besides Richard Divola had any criminal record."

  "Oh right, of course." Addison took a seat in front of his desk and thought for a moment. "What about a relative or friend?" she suggested. "Someone acting on behalf of a criminal he failed?"

  "Or the other side, someone upset over a criminal he did get off," said Isaac, more interested now.

  "Yes, that's a good point. How would we find that out?"

  Isaac sighed. "With a lot of legwork," he said. "Or rather, a lot of keyboard work. Most of the investigative stuff we do these days is using these things." He pointed to the laptop sitting open on his desk. "I'll get Short and Diaz to go through the attendees list again, see if they can come up with anyone with a connection to Perry in his capacity as a lawyer."

  Addison nodded. She didn't envy them that task. While she loved what technology could do these days, she had a hard time figuring out how to use it herself. Her own laptop often sat unopened for days at a time, especially after what had happened earlier this year.

  She brought her attention back to Isaac. "Did you speak to Lucy McGregor again?"

  He shook his head. "She's on my list for today, along with Ted King. He returns from Brisbane later this afternoon, apparently."

  "What about Kendall's young cousin? Did you manage to interview him?"

  "We did," said Isaac with a smile. "It didn't take long to get a confession out of him."

  "A confession?"

  "Yes. He and his mates were the ones who set the dogs off on their rampage. He was very contrite about it."

  "What did they do?"

  "It was just like we saw in the photos. They hid under the tables and fired little stones at the dogs with their slingshots."

  Addison was appalled. "The little devils. Didn't they know how much that would hurt the dogs? How would they like it if someone took pot-shots at them?"

  "I don't think they'll be doing it again in a hurry. We got all their names and spoke to the parents. They're being punished appropriately. Plus, I suggested they all spend some time helping Juliet at the surgery. She's always looking for help mucking out the cages. The parents thought that was a great idea."

  Addison was relieved the boys would get a dose of reality as part of their punishment. She had no doubt Juliet would include a lecture or two on how to treat animals.

  "So that puts paid to the theory of the killer causing the distraction. I mean, assuming we're ruling out the boys as murderers?"

  "I think that's a safe assumption," said Isaac. "Those
boys were just looking to cause a bit of chaos for their own amusement. I doubt they had any idea how out of hand things would get, let alone have any clue someone was going to be murdered in amongst it all. They're quite horrified at the outcome."

  "Good," said Addison, then had a sudden thought. "None of their parents are suspects, are they?"

  Isaac shook his head. "No, they've all been cleared." He finished off his coffee and threw the takeaway cup in the bin. "I think whoever put the poison in Perry's glass took advantage of the chaos, rather than causing it."

  "So where to now then?" asked Addison, her eyes still on the disposable cup in the garbage. She made a mental note to ask Kendall when Isaac's birthday was so she could get him a reusable one. Olivia was always going on about the environment, and some of it was starting to rub off on Addison.

  "Like I said, I'll get Short and Diaz checking into associations between Perry Abbott's clients and the dog show. And the follow-up interviews with Lucy McGregor and Ted King."

  "Anything I can do?"

  "I don't think so, not at this stage." Isaac let out a big sigh as he stood. He seemed frustrated, and Addison wanted to help. She followed him out of his office, but instead of leaving the station she lingered at the suspect board.

  "Richard Divola," she said, pointing to the photograph of the groomer from Riverwood. "Is he still your number one suspect?"

  "He's the one with the most motive," said Isaac. "And one of the people who knew Sam Clayton had strychnine. But that's the problem with this case. Quite a few people knew about the strychnine, and too many people had access to Perry's glass that night." He turned to the wall of photographs. "We're missing something."

  "I might be able to help with that," said Short from her desk.

  Isaac and Addison both turned to face her. "What have you got?" asked Isaac.

  "I was trying to get hold of Ted King to line up an interview time for this afternoon, but he wasn't answering his mobile. So I called his work – it turns out he has two mobile phones. A work one, and a personal one."