Paw and Order

by V. M. Burns

  He scowled.

  Dixie patted his arm. “Now, Archibald you’re going to need to behave yourself and stop trying to shock my friends.”

  He laughed again, and then gave me a stiff bow. “Mrs. Echosby, it has been my pleasure meeting you, but if I can leave you with a word of warning: Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer.” He tapped the side of his head.

  I forced a smile and remembered I was still holding his dog. I gave the poodle a final cuddle and ear scratch and then handed him back over to his owner.

  Dixie grabbed Archibald by the arm and escorted him into the main room of the museum.

  Just as I turned to follow, I noticed a strange man enter the reception. I probably wouldn’t have noticed him, except he looked like he was watching Dixie but trying not to appear as if he was doing so. It wouldn’t be unusual for a man to look more than once at Dixie. There’s no question she was striking, but there was something about this stranger that sent a shiver up my spine. Suddenly, I sensed someone behind me, and I nearly jumped out of my skin. Turning, I saw my boyfriend. “Red, you startled me.” I clutched at my racing heart.

  He glanced into my eyes. “You really are scared. Sorry, I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

  I took a deep breath. “I was looking at that man.” I turned around to point him out, but he had vanished. “Well, he was here a minute ago.” I glanced around.

  “Should I be jealous that you’re looking at other men?” Red joked.

  I gave his arm a playful punch. “Don’t be silly. I’m serious. There was this weird guy looking at Dixie and he gave me the creeps.”

  Instantly, his demeanor changed from playful flirting to serious, law enforcement mode. Red was stocky, but rock solid. He was five foot ten with dark eyes and sandy red hair which he wore in a cut which screamed former military. He still bore the scars, both internally and externally, from his years of service. The most visible was a scar across the right side of his face. The other scars were harder to see. Now he worked for the Tennessee Bureau of Investigations. Despite the fact that I found him to be a loveable teddy bear who could be extremely gentle and loved to cook, he could flip a switch and turn into a hard-nosed cop within seconds. I had seen the transformation before, in both Red and in my daughter’s boyfriend, Joe Harrison, also former military and now a member of the Lighthouse Dunes, Indiana, police force. I can’t put my finger on exactly what changes when the switch is flipped, but suddenly the air bristles with electricity and the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.

  “Which guy? Can you point him out?”

  We walked around the perimeter of the room, as inconspicuously as possible. I spotted Dixie talking to her husband Beau and Dr. Morgan, a short, bald man with an egg-shaped head that reminded me of the description of Agatha Christie’s famous detective, Hercule Poirot. Dr. Morgan was the coroner and one of the members of Dixie’s dog class. He was shy and socially awkward, but since Dixie had bought ten tickets at a hundred dollars per ticket for each of the members of the class she taught and gifted them to us, we felt it was our duty to come and support the fundraiser. What Dr. Morgan didn’t know was that Dixie also hoped to hook him up with her socially awkward spinster cousin, whom she thought would be perfect for him. Needless to say, two socially awkward people in a crowded room was a pretty pitiful sight and Dr. Morgan looked as though he’d just as soon have a root canal as spend another second here.

  We made two trips around the room and even ventured out to a few other areas of the museum, but I never saw the stranger again. We were just about to go back into the main reception area when I heard a yap and a dark gray fluff ball ran to me and took a flying leap of faith into my arms.

  “My goodness, Indulf. What are you doing running around alone?” I whispered in the voice people only used with babies and pets. “If you went potty in the museum, Linda Kay will be furious.”

  Red reached over and scratched the poodle behind the ears. “Where did you meet this little guy and what did you call him?”

  “Don’t ask me to repeat it. I think it’s Scottish.” I petted the puppy. “He belongs to this eccentric old man named Archibald Lowry—”

  Red stopped and stared at me. “Archibald Lowry? The Archibald Lowry?”

  I stared at him. “You know him?”

  He smiled. “Not personally, but I’ve certainly heard of him.” He stopped and stared at me. “You don’t?”

  I shook my head. “Never heard of him until recently.” I explained about the trip Dixie and I had made to his house. “Dixie drove the RV. I opted to stay in the luxury with the poodles.” I shrugged. “Besides, I wasn’t the one invited to meet with him.”

  “He’s supposed to be one of the richest men in the South. I’ve never met him, but he’s reported to be a recluse who rarely leaves his mansion unless it’s to go to one of his other mansions.”

  I snuggled the poodle. “Well, this is his puppy.” I looked around. “I don’t see any messes anywhere. Do you?”

  Red gave the area a quick glance and then shook his head. “Where is the mighty titan?”

  I shrugged. “No idea.” I looked down at the puppy and noticed he was licking one of his paws. A closer glance indicated a sticky red substance. “I think he’s injured.”

  He examined the dog’s paw and then his radar went up. “Take the dog and go back in the main room.” The tone in his voice was complete law enforcement and left no room for argument.

  I turned to obey and glanced back in time to see him reach for the gun he wore strapped to his side as he navigated around a corner.

  A woman shrieked and Red raced in the direction of the scream.

  I hesitated a half second and then turned back and followed him with the puppy clutched to my chest.

  Around an alcove near a display of ancient swords, I saw a pair of white stubby legs, black socks which had fallen down around a pair of skinny ankles and a kilt which had hiked up during the fall to reveal that like a traditional Scot, Archibald Lowry wasn’t wearing anything under his tartan.

  Chapter 2

  “My God, what happened?” Jacob whispered in my ear.

  I hadn’t even realized he was there until he spoke. I shook my head. “No idea.”

  Red squatted near the body and felt for a pulse. He stood up and pulled out his shield. “I’m going to need everyone to please go back into the main area and wait until the police arrive.” He beckoned to Jacob. “I need you to get to Security and make sure every door is locked. No one leaves.”

  Jacob nodded, turned and hurried as quickly as a man in a heavy compression boot could, to take care of Red’s request.

  The crowd which had come in response to the scream, slowly returned to the main room.

  A woman dressed in a short black dress was leaning against a pillar. From the way her hand was shaking, I knew she was the screamer.

  I wanted to ask a million questions but Red held up his hand to forestall the barrage while he pulled out his cell phone. He called the police and reported the murder, indicating there was a TBI officer on the scene. When he was done, he turned to Dixie who had come to stand beside me. “Can you find Dr. Morgan?”

  Like Jacob, Dixie looked dazed. After a few seconds, she nodded and stumbled away muttering under her breath. “Death is my son-in-law, death is my heir.”

  Red frowned and glanced at me.

  I smiled at the look of utter confusion on his face. “It’s a quote from Romeo and Juliet.” I inclined my head in Dixie’s direction. “She quotes literature when she’s nervous.”

  He raised an eyebrow but said nothing.

  As much as I tried, I couldn’t drag my eyes away from Archibald’s rear. “It seems so undignified. Can you at least pull down his kilt, so he isn’t so…exposed?” I whispered.

  Red shook his head. “Sorry, but we can’t touch anything. This is a crime scene, a
nd everything must be left exactly as it’s found.”

  In my head, I knew the red pool of blood I saw seeping under the body meant Archibald Lowry’s death couldn’t have been due to natural causes. However, my mind refused to grasp the fact that someone I was acquainted with, no matter how slightly, had just been violently murdered. “Are you sure it was murder?”

  He nodded and walked over to the screamer.

  I followed in time to hear him ask, “Can you tell me what happened?”

  She looked up at Red and shook her head. “I came from the bathroom.” She pointed a shaking finger in the direction of the ladies’ room. “I saw him lying on the ground with all that blood.” She turned even paler than she was before, a feat I wouldn’t have thought physically possible. She clutched her hand to her mouth and ran to the ladies’ room. She was thin and fit and made the sprint in four-inch heels, which elevated her athletic status considerably in my opinion.

  Red looked like he was going to follow her, but that’s when Dr. Morgan arrived. Red gave me a pleading look and inclined his head toward the ladies’ room.

  I nodded. Still clutching the poodle to my chest, I hurried to the restroom to check on the high heeled sprinter.

  I halted inside the door. I could tell by the retching sound coming from one of the stalls that she’d made it in time. Motherhood had numbed me to practically every type of sickness involving bodily fluids. However, there was something about the sound of someone puking which caused me to shudder and want to plug my ears. I was ashamed to admit I stood as far away from that stall as the cramped confines of the restroom allowed. I turned on the water in the sink and pushed the button for the hand dryer, all in an attempt to blot out the noise. It didn’t work.

  She flushed the toilet and I pretended I was washing my hands. I stood at the sink with a toy poodle cupped between my chin and my neck. His claws gripped the top of my dress and he clung to my shoulder like a parrot. He was frightened and I could feel his little body shivering. I felt sorry for the poor little guy, but this dress had been a splurge. Dixie had driven me to Atlanta to a designer shop where there were belts that cost more than my monthly rent payment. However, when the clerk held up this dress, the heavens parted, angels sang, and I wept. When I saw the tag I wept more, but I still handed over my credit card. It had cost a small fortune, but it fit like a glove. The fabric felt like butter and floated on my hips like some type of fairy fabric. It was perfect and I knew if I hadn’t gotten it, I’d regret it. I fully intended I’d someday be buried in this dress, so, while I was sad this cute little guy had lost his owner, he was going to need to come off. I didn’t want to ruin a dress I paid a king’s ransom for the very first time I’d worn it. I reached up and extracted him, taking care to avoid snags.

  The sprinting screamer stumbled to the sink, turned on the tap and put her head down as close to the bowl as possible. She drank from the stream of water, then swished it around and spit. When she was done, she gripped the counter and stared at her reflection. “That was awful.” She had a slight accent.

  “I’m so sorry. Were you close to Archibald Lowry?”

  A look of fright crossed her face but was quickly replaced with a smile that was more like a grimace. “What makes you ask that?” She forced a fake laugh.

  “You found him and you seem really upset…” I tried to make my tone sound concerned rather than accusatory.

  “Well, I didn’t know him at all. I just happened upon a dead body.” She fidgeted to turn off the faucets and remove all traces of her discomposure. “Stumbling across someone who’s just been brutally beaten and stabbed would upset any normal person.”

  She emphasized normal as though to indicate that I wasn’t. Previously, I felt compassion for her. However, that dried up quickly, especially as she glanced at me as though I was the hired help, which technically I was, but that wasn’t the point.

  “How did you know he’d been brutally beaten and stabbed?”

  She took a tissue and patted at her face, but then glanced at my reflection in the mirror. “What?”

  “He was lying on his stomach, face down. It was impossible to see his face, and you certainly couldn’t have seen the wound.” I wet a tissue and casually wiped the poodle’s paws. “If you just stumbled across his dead body, how did you know he’d been brutally beaten and stabbed.”

  “In case you missed it, Nancy Drew, there was a rather large pool of blood beneath him. Anyone with common sense could see that he must have been stabbed.”

  Oh, it was on, now. “Nancy Drew was a teenager with a college boyfriend who played varsity sports. My boyfriend is that Tennessee Bureau of Investigations Officer out there and you’ll have to work on your acting skills before you try that routine on him.” If I hadn’t been holding a poodle, I might have given her a neck roll and two finger snaps. Thankfully, Indulf prevented me from being more obnoxious.

  After a long pause, she gave a nervous giggle. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be rude. It’s just, well, I barely knew the man and I certainly don’t want to get dragged into this nasty business simply because I stumbled across his body after he was murdered.”

  I lowered the eyebrow I’d raised and tried to look as neutral as possible.

  She sighed. “I’m just scared. I mean, someone killed that man. If the killer thought I might have seen something, I could be in danger too.”

  The fact that it was the truth made this story much more powerful than the last performance she’d tried. She wasn’t covered in blood and despite the four-inch heels, I doubted she could have plunged a knife or sword into Archibald Lowry’s chest. He may not have been a young man, but he looked burly and was probably strong enough to have at least put up a fight. I didn’t believe she killed him, but I still didn’t like her. “Understandable, but what did you see?”

  “Not much. I saw the man in the kilt arguing with someone. I couldn’t tell who, because he was behind the pillar. The next thing I know, the other guy takes one of those weapons, bashes the old guy in the face and then plunges…” She took a deep breath and swallowed hard. “That’s when I screamed and ran.”

  “Well, you didn’t get far.”

  “No, I started to feel sick, so I looked around for a place to…well, you know.” She waved her hand in a manner that made me ask.

  “Where’d you get sick?”

  “Large planter outside.”

  I’d have to remember to tell the cleaning crew.

  “I’d just finished when I saw you two coming around the corner.”

  There was a knock on the door. “Lilly, are you okay?”

  I walked to the door and opened it. “Yes, I’m fine.” I held the door open so Red could enter.

  He glanced around and, seeing that we were the only ones here, he walked inside. He turned to the screamer who was reapplying her lipstick. “Are you okay?”

  She pursed her lips and then took a tissue and blotted the excess before responding. “Of course, it was just a shock.”

  He took out a notepad. “I’m Dennis Olson with the Tennessee Bureau of Investigations and I need to ask you a few questions.”

  She turned. “Of course, but as I was telling your girlfriend, I didn’t know the man who was murdered.”

  Red glanced at me and I gave a slight shake of my head. “Well, let’s start with your name.”

  She paused long enough for me to suspect that the name was a fabrication. “Fiona Darling.” She reached into her bag and pulled out a business card, sauntered over to Red and handed it to him.

  She stood so close that when she leaned back against the counter and flipped her thick red hair, it landed on Red’s shoulder. It took every ounce of my willpower to keep from flipping it off.

  Red seemed oblivious as he read her card. “Darling Detective Agency?”

  “Yes, I’m a private investigator, although I’m not here tonight i
n any type of professional capacity.” She flashed a smile which nearly blinded me.

  I barely noticed her perfume when she was at the other side of the room, however, up close and personal, it was overpowering and caused my eyes to water.

  “What did bring you here tonight?” Red asked.

  She reached over and scratched Indulf behind the ear. Even though poodles are not known for being aggressive, I wouldn’t have minded if he’d tried to amputate a finger or two. To my dismay, the little traitor merely wiggled and licked her hand.

  “Aren’t you cute.” She leaned down and cooed.

  Indulf missed another opportunity to show his loyalty and merely wiggled more and licked her hand.

  She chuckled. “I just love dogs.” She looked at me. “What kind is he?”

  That set off mental alarms. “He’s a poodle.”

  She colored, but tried to downplay her faux pas. “Well, of course he is.”

  Indulf redeemed himself when he sneezed in her face.

  She froze for a few seconds, then took a tissue and patted her skin.

  I gave Indulf an extra pat. “Good boy,” I whispered.

  “Miss Darling, can you tell me what you saw?” Red asked.

  Fiona Darling related the same tale she’d told me, however this time she stressed that she hadn’t seen the actual murderer. She fluttered her eyelashes and leaned in, keeping a hand on Red’s arm much longer than I deemed necessary. I wasn’t a jealous person, but Fiona Darling was an attractive woman, endowed with a couple of attributes which made her stand out. And she was certainly trying to use them to her advantage.

  Red asked a few other questions, but then allowed the redheaded gumshoe to leave with a promise to make herself available for further questioning.

  Her hips swayed far more than necessary as she sashayed out of the women’s room. When she left, Red turned to me. “What do you think?”

  “She wears too much perfume, she practically tossed herself at your feet and she wears way too much makeup. I don’t like her. More importantly, what did you think?” I glanced at him. “She’s an attractive woman.”