Aunt Betty and I exhaled simultaneously as if we’d just run a marathon. Aunt Betty glanced at her phone to check the time. “We have to go!”
Not wanting to give Bella the chance to slip out of her collar, I picked her up in a football hold—she was as solid as a ten-pound turkey—and carried her back into the main room.
“You got her!” Lynn clapped her hands in front of her. She smiled at us but then her smile slid away and she asked, “What will happen to her?”
“We’ll find her a really good home,” Aunt Betty said. “And in the meantime, she’ll receive the very best of care as a foster puppy.”
Lynn looked relieved. She reached out and rubbed Bella’s head. “I’m sorry, little love. You’re just too much for my old folks and taking care of them means I can’t take care of you.”
Bella licked her wrist and Lynn smiled. “She really is a good girl if you can overlook her barking, chewing the furniture, and relentless herding tendencies.”
“We’ll train that out of her,” Aunt Betty said. “Don’t you worry.”
I looked down at the bundle of fur in my arms. She didn’t resemble a problem puppy but I knew I was likely getting snookered by her big brown eyes and her wagging butt. Heaven help me.
My phone buzzed with an impatient text from Harry. He was circling the building for the fourth time and concerned that Freddy was going to miss the dog show.
“Feel free to contact us anytime,” I said to Lynn. “And good luck with everything.”
“Thanks,” she said. She smiled at me. “You, too.”
Aunt Betty and I hurried out of the building to see Harrison double-parked right in front. Aunt Betty opened the back door and I slid in with Bella while she climbed in front. We were barely buckled when Harry shot into the traffic, making his way to Finchley Park.
“What are we going to do with the puppy?” he asked. His eyebrows knotted as he took in the sight of Bella, making herself at home on my lap while she chewed on her leash.
“Keep her,” I said immediately. I hadn’t really thought about it until the words came out but once I heard them out loud I knew it was 100 percent the right decision.
“Ginger, Viv isn’t going to let you have a dog at the shop,” he said.
“That’s why Bella will stay with you at your place,” I said.
Freddy sniffed Bella’s head and then licked her. She tried to return the favor but I blocked her with my hand, not wanting her to mess up Freddy’s perfect look.
“There’ll be time for that later,” I said. Bella, clearly exhausted from her morning, yawned and fell asleep in my lap almost as fast as I fell in love with her. I let my fingers sift through her soft fur. She was supposed to be with me. I felt it all the way down in my bones.
When I glanced up, Harry was watching me in the rearview mirror. His eyes were half-amused, half-chagrined.
“So, we have a puppy.” He said it as a statement, not a question and I knew I had never loved him more.
“Yes,” I said. “We do.”
The jostling motion of the car rocked Bella into a deep sleep. So different from the holy terror that had been dodging us in the apartment, she was now as limp as a noodle. I ran my fingers through her soft fur, picked up her feet and checked the pads, played with the tips of her ears. She didn’t even move.
Freddy leaned over and gave her a thorough sniffing, from head to foot. Then he flopped down beside me and rested his head on his feet while he watched her. I wondered if he considered her a part of his pack. If so, was she going to be an alpha, beta or omega? Judging by this morning, I was leaning toward alpha.
Harrison found a decent parking spot, and we hustled into the building at Finchley Park. My nerves were shot, frankly, and I was ready for the dog show to be over. But Freddy was a contender, so I knew I had to dig deep and present him to the best of my ability.
Aunt Betty had him looking downright spiffy with a shining coat and polished teeth. We had decided to forgo hats this morning, so he wouldn’t have an unfortunate case of hat head before the judging.
I took Freddy’s leash and passed off Bella to Harry, who carried her like a sleeping baby in his arms. Ridiculously adorable.
We entered the arena and it was again full to bursting. The murmur of the crowd was restless as people maneuvered their way to their seats. I showed my credentials and was given a program. I gave it a quick glance and noted that Freddy and I were going in front of the judges in an hour. I took a deep breath. This was it.
Once the final scores were up, the top five winners would be invited to a fancy high tea with the judges and the sponsors. I checked the leaderboard, which was on the far wall. Freddy’s name was still in the number one spot with Muffin just below him.
I glanced around the room, looking for Richard. There was no sign of him or his bulldog. I did see Penelope Young, however. She was talking to Detective Inspector Bronson and I noticed she pointed in my direction. I saw Bronson turn my way and his gaze was considering. My intuition started to tingle and I knew she was following through with her threat from the day before. She was saying something to Bronson about “what she’d overheard” and it had to do with me. I put my hand on Harry’s arm. When he glanced at me, I tipped my head in the detective’s direction.
It seemed my instincts were spot-on, because Bronson cut through the crowd and headed our way. He worked through the people and dogs with a singular purpose. I felt myself get nervous even though I knew I had no reason to be. No matter what horrible thing Penelope Young said about me, I hadn’t done anything wrong. It would be fine. There was no other acceptable alternative.
“Scarlett, might I have a word with you?” Detective Inspector Bronson asked. His tone was polite, and yet, it didn’t really feel like a question I could say “no” to.
I held up the schedule and said, “Freddy and I are in the ring in an hour.”
“I only need a few minutes,” he said.
“Whatever you need to discuss with Scarlett, you can say to us, too,” Harry said.
Bronson met his gaze, glanced down at snoozing Bella and gave a small nod. “If you’ll follow me.”
“Me, too?” Aunt Betty asked.
“Yes,” Harry said. “We all stay together until they discover who murdered Swendson.”
We went back to the security office where Bronson had interviewed us before. Freddy took it all in stride, hurrying along on his short legs. I felt my heart do a little hiccup when he looked at me with his earnest face. While I was ready to be done with the dog show, I was really going to miss Freddy, but maybe that’s why fate had brought Bella into my life.
“Have a seat,” Bronson said.
He circled the desk and waited while Aunt Betty and I took the chairs and Harry stood behind us. Freddy sat in between our feet, looking like he was eager to hear what this was all about.
“It’s been brought to my attention—” he began but I interrupted. Rude, I know, but I couldn’t help myself.
“By Penelope Young?” I asked.
He nodded. “Yes, she was the one who brought her concerns to me.”
“And what concerns were those?” Harry asked. His voice was hard as if he were biting off each word before spitting it out. He kept the volume low, however, and I suspected that had to do with Bella. It hit me then that he was going to make a spectacular dog dad.
“She said that you and Gerry Swendson had an argument the morning of the agility tests, that she couldn’t make out what was said but that it was clear you were furious.”
“Codswallop,” Aunt Betty snapped.
“What she said,” I agreed. “I never saw Gerry Swendson the morning of the agility tests. In fact, I didn’t even know I’d be competing until we got here and discovered that Liza Stanhope refused to let Aunt Betty enter. That’s when I took her place, so why would I have had a problem with Swend
son before then?”
“What time did she say this altercation took place?” Harry asked. “Scarlett was with me, then she was at the hat shop, before coming here to the dog show. Since she was with someone at all times, it should be very easy to provide an alibi for her.”
“Mrs. Young said that she believed the conversation took place at about eight o’clock in the morning before the dog show was even open to an audience,” he said.
I felt my heart plummet into the pointy toes of my shoes. To present Freddy today I had dressed up in a flirty skirt with heels and everything—not for nothing, but I was slaying it. But none of this was going to help me right now because somehow Penelope had managed to pick the one time, eight o’clock, that I had been alone during the morning of the agility tests.
I remembered that I’d left Harry’s house to go home at seven thirty but had stopped on my way for coffee and a mince pie, which I had eaten in the bakery, where it was warm. Damn my love of a good pastry.
“You were at the hat shop by eight, right?” Harry asked me. He turned to Bronson. “Her business partner, Vivian Tremont, will confirm her whereabouts that morning.”
I turned in my seat and faced Harry, willing him to turn back to me. When he did, I made an imperceptible, I hoped, shake of my head. To his credit, his face remained impassive instead of looking shocked. In fact, if I didn’t know better I’d say he wasn’t even surprised.
I think this is the best part of finding your soul mate. A real one can read your mind, I swear. As if by unspoken agreement, Harry and I said nothing more to Bronson about it.
There were questions I wanted to have answered first, starting with, Why was Penelope Young lying about seeing me? Was she trying to get me disqualified from the dog show to gain a higher ranking for Henry? Or did she really think she had seen me? Or was she just trying to draw suspicion off herself and her husband, Jasper?
She had to know I was going to call her out. She was putting everything we had strived for in jeopardy. We had worked too hard to get Freddy into the winning position to lose it all now over a bogus accusation.
“So, you have an alibi?” Bronson asked. I don’t think I was imagining that he sounded relieved. I figured, compared to most of the other competitors, I was the least annoying.
I shrugged. “Yeah, of course I do. You can call my cousin, Viv, if you want.”
I felt Harry get tense beside me. Okay, maybe that had been taking the bluff too far.
“No, that’s good enough—for now,” he said. He looked discouraged.
“This is a complete waste of time. Do you have any leads, any real leads, in the case?” Aunt Betty asked. She stared at Bronson as if she found him lacking, and I saw him shift in his seat.
One corner of his mouth tipped up into a rueful smile. “They’re all real. I’m just not sure which one is the truth, including the one that gives Scarlett a motive to have poisoned Swendson.”
Chapter 14
“That’s cuckoo bananas,” I said. “We’ve already established that I didn’t even know I was going to be in the competition. Why would I murder Swendson?”
“Maybe he threatened to toss you out of the competition like he did Betty,” Bronson said.
“He didn’t, because I never saw him,” I said. “Besides, why would I care? It’s not as if I know what I’m doing!”
“Possibly you wanted revenge for the bad food he gave Freddy last year.”
“I didn’t even know Freddy until a few weeks ago,” I said.
Bronson stared at me. Clearly, he’d been running these scenarios through his head since talking to Penelope.
“Perhaps you were helping your fiancé exact his revenge on Swendson.”
“And why would I want revenge?” Harry asked. The look he sent Bronson was incredulous.
“Because Swendson argued with your aunt the night before the dog show began,” he said.
Harry looked at Aunt Betty and then back at Bronson. “So? So they argued? So what? We didn’t know that Swendson had her blackballed until registration the following morning, by which time Swendson was already dead.”
“Probably by opioid overdose,” I said.
Bronson went still. “How did you know that?”
“It was a guess,” I said. “Back in the day, when I worked in the hospitality industry at a major resort hotel, I dealt with a few cases where guests had overdosed. One was an old man who’d gotten confused and taken too many pain pills. The other was a young twentysomething woman, who’d taken some pills while drinking with her friends.
“Both cases were awful. The victims’ bodies, which I’d only glimpsed while waiting for the paramedics, had the bluish tinge to the lips and fingers, as well as the dried-up spittle from foaming at the mouth, just like Swendson’s body. I remember that the girl had been bruised all along one side, and we thought she might have been assaulted but the paramedics said she’d likely had a seizure on the cold hard floor of her bathroom. Was there any bruising on Swendson?”
“I’m sorry, I’m not at liberty to discuss,” he began, and I said with him, “an ongoing investigation.”
“Right,” I said. I met Bronson’s gaze. I didn’t like what I was about to say but I felt it needed to be clarified. “Swendson didn’t commit suicide. Someone slipped him those pills the morning of the show. Someone who wanted him dead.”
Bronson tossed down the pen he’d been fidgeting with. “Damn it, that’s the same conclusion I keep coming to but who and why?”
I felt myself relax, as it seemed like he was bumping us down the suspect list, but only a little. There was still a murderer out there, after all.
“Don’t you find it interesting that Penelope knew exactly what time to say she saw Scarlett talking to Swendson to put her at the scene before the murder?” Aunt Betty asked. She reached down and patted Freddy thoughtfully. “Why, it’s almost as if she knew what time he was murdered.”
We all sat silently. I watched Bronson’s face. He gave nothing away. “That’s assuming that his murder took place in the morning.”
“He was found in the clothes he’d chosen that morning,” Aunt Betty said. “I heard that his housekeeper verified he was wearing the exact same outfit when he left his house. It has to mean he was murdered that morning.”
“How do you know what his housekeeper said?” Bronson asked.
“Gossip.” Aunt Betty shrugged. “Tilly let it be known that she spent the night at her mother’s because of a headache, how convenient, and she told someone that their housekeeper verified Swendson’s attire.”
Bronson looked frustrated by the rumor mill. I imagined it didn’t make his job any easier.
“Unless Tilly and her housekeeper lied. It could be that she’s the one who murdered him and delivered him here, and she’s paying off her housekeeper to back her story,” I said. “Maybe she murdered him late that night and dragged the body back in a new outfit.”
“There’s no way she could move him by herself,” Harry said. “He’s twice as big as she is. If she did murder him at home and bring him here, she had to have help.”
“Assisted by some strong young people who want to win a dog show more than anything?” I asked. I put the emphasis on “young” just to make sure Bronson didn’t miss it.
Bronson looked at each of us. “Thank you for your time. I’ll be sure to keep you apprised of anything else we learn.”
And just like that we were dismissed. I had kept my cool in the office but now I wanted to get me a piece of Mrs. Penelope Young. How dare she fabricate seeing me talk to Swendson in Finchley Park the morning of the agility tests? I wanted to stomp her, crush her, smash her into bits.
“Ginger, you okay in there?” Harry asked.
I scowled at him. I was pretty sure there was smoke coming out of my ears. I showed my teeth in an attempt at a smile.
“Great
, just great,” I said.
“That looks even worse,” he said.
“He’s right,” Aunt Betty said. “You have to pull it together. You’ve got the final competition in thirty minutes. You need to get your game face on.”
“Fine,” I said. “But if I run into Penelope Young, I might just kick her on principle.”
“After the competition,” Aunt Betty said. She handed me Freddy’s leash. “Now, go freshen up.”
I nodded. She was right. Freddy had worked so hard for this. He deserved my commitment to his final competition even if it was just him standing on a table and having his teeth checked.
Harry’s phone chimed. He held Bella with one arm while he checked it and said, “That’s from Viv. She and Fee are here and they’re saving us seats.”
Suddenly, I was nervous. Not just a little nervous—oh, no—this was like “teeth clacking, knees knocking, I have to pee really bad” nervous. Freddy was in the lead. He could totally win this thing if the judges found his overall appearance appealing. I glanced down at him and felt as if his entire future was resting on my shoulders.
“I can’t do this,” I said. Panic was making my voice wobble. I held out my hands for Bella and thrust Freddy’s leash at Harry at the same time. “I’ll go sit in the stands and you do the dog-show thing.”
Harry smiled at me. He shifted Bella and did not take Freddy’s leash. “I’m not dressed to present Freddy.”
I looked him over in his jeans and sweater. “You look fine to me.”
“But you look beautiful,” he said.
Well, bless his clearly-love-is-blind, foolish heart. The fact that he saw me this way made my heart sing, but I still didn’t want to do the dog show. There was so much at stake. What if I screwed it up? I didn’t want to be responsible for Freddy losing.
Buried to the Brim Page 15
