“Thank you,” I said. “I still think you should take him instead of me.”
“Nonsense,” Aunt Betty said. “It’s just nerves. You’ll be fine.”
“I don’t feel fine,” I said.
“Good. Then you’ll take it seriously,” she said. She made a shooing motion with her hand.
“Don’t worry,” Harry said. He kissed my forehead. “Trust Freddy. He hasn’t steered you wrong yet.”
I watched him turn and walk away with Bella and, dang, if that wasn’t the cutest thing ever, seeing my man with a puppy in his arms. I wondered what he was going to tell Viv about Bella and then I was pretty happy that I was back here with Freddy instead of breaking it to my cousin that Harry and I had adopted a dog.
Freddy and I went to await our turn in the handlers’ room. I tried to walk with a purpose and confidence I didn’t feel. I could feel the stares of the other competitors upon us. We were in the lead. The crystal bowl was ours to lose at this point. The thought made me queasy.
* * *
* * *
Freddy and I found a quiet corner. I could feel my heart trying to punch out past my ribs and my hands were sweating, so I took a moment to breathe in slowly, hold it for four seconds and then exhale slowly, rinse and repeat until I felt like I wasn’t going to faint.
One of the PAWS people called, “Freddy and Scarlett Parker.”
Freddy perked right up, dancing on his feet as if he’d been waiting his whole life for this. I held his leash close to my side and together we trotted into the arena. The applause was deafening. It was clear Freddy was a favorite. I supposed people were tired of Muffin winning and really, who could blame them?
I refused to look for Harry and the others in the crowd, as it would just make me more nervous, especially if Viv gave me stink eye from one hundred yards for the puppy. Her stink eye is powerful like that. Instead, I focused on our walk across the arena to the judges’ table, keeping Freddy on my left, our gaits perfectly in sync.
The head judge was there, Claudia, and she looked as serious as ever. Freddy shot up the ramp onto the cloth-draped table, where he stacked. This was the portion of the event where he had to stand in place while the judges evaluated the overall look of him.
Because the PAWS dog show was a charitable event, they didn’t have the same conformation rules as the Westminster dog show. Aunt Betty had explained that each dog was evaluated by its overall appearance, using the standards set for its breed, or in the cases of mixed breeds, its contributing bloodlines. I had done some reading and knew what some of the corgi standards were considered to be. The list was daunting, however, so I’d pretty much forgotten everything but the personality, which was friendly and workmanlike. Corgis were generally never aggressive or anxious. I was hoping this would be a selling point for convincing Viv that Bella could visit the shop during the daytime when Harrison was at work. I glanced at the packed stands. Where were they?
No, no. I shook my head. Now was not the time to think about that. I forced myself to be as still as Freddy. When the judges asked to see his teeth, I moved his lips aside just as Betty had shown me. Freddy was tolerant through all of the manhandling. The judges walked around him in circles, studying his lines. His coat shimmered under the lights, his ears were perfectly matched and up as if he was listening to what they had to say about him.
“Run him around,” Claudia instructed.
“Beg pardon?” I asked.
She gestured impatiently with her pen, swinging it in a circle. “Run him around us. I want to see his gait, while walking and running.”
“Oh, sure thing,” I said. With little urging, Freddy came down the ramp.
I quickly kicked off my heels. I was not going to risk breaking an ankle while trotting a dog around the arena. Freddy stayed beside me and we walked a bit before breaking into a run. True confession. I am not a runner. In fact, I hate it. Unless there is cake at the end of a race, I really don’t see the point.
The judges were watching, however, so Freddy and I did our best to look like one functioning unit. We slowed to a walk again and rejoined the judges. Claudia gave me a quick nod. It was the first time I didn’t feel disapproval pouring off her toward me. Of course, it might have been a pity nod because I was shoeless, light-headed, sucking wind, and my face likely resembled a small, bitter, root vegetable. Did I mention I hate running?
I slipped on my heels and staggered from the arena to go wait in back with my competition. On my way, I passed Andre, who was looking at the display on his digital camera and shaking with laughter.
“Oh, Scarlett,” he said. “I’m sorry, but . . .”
He was laughing too hard to finish the sentence. I took the camera and glanced at the pictures. Oh. My. God. He had caught me in my full glory, red hair streaming behind me while I tried to show off Freddy. My cheeks were blown out like a puffer fish, my face was on fire, and my eyes looked wild.
“You will delete these,” I said. “They will never see the light of day.”
He glanced at the screen again and started laughing. “But the memes I could make.”
“No!”
“All right, all right,” he agreed. The next dog was called up and he squeezed my hand. “All photographic evidence aside, you and Freddy did really well out there.”
“Uh-huh,” I said.
He was gone before I got the second syllable out. I glanced down at Freddy.
“Well, for better or worse, we’re done,” I said.
I sagged against the wall. I needed to catch my breath. Competitors had been told that after competing in today’s event they were to wait in the back room and not sit out in the stands. Partly, it was because it was a packed house but also, I believe, they wanted to build up the suspense.
A vizsla named Tucker was up and he trotted past Freddy and me, looking confident but smelling a bit gassy.
Oof. I looked at Freddy but he didn’t seem fazed. Mouth-breathing, I took the opportunity to study the people out in the arena. Behind the judges’ table sat Mary and Tilly Swendson, along with Liza Stanhope in the VIP section. What an odd threesome, I thought. Mary was the only one who had seemed to actually mourn her brother, but from what I’d heard about him, I wasn’t sure why.
He’d borrowed against the company to build that monstrous castle for his young wife that she was now stuck with and if it was true that she didn’t inherit half of the company, she had no way to pay for. It seemed like it must be a punishment for the lover that everyone seemed to know she had. I glanced again at the people sitting in the VIP section. There were several gentlemen, other sponsors and PAWS board members, but none that I could imagine being involved with Tilly. Then again, as I glanced at her and saw that she was drinking a glass of wine and sending scathing glances in Mary’s direction, I doubted any sane man would want to take that on. Maybe Gerry Swendson had killed himself to get away from her. It was an uncharitable thought, and I almost felt bad about it. Almost.
I supposed it was possible that Gerry Swendson had killed himself. Maybe the crushing debt and the pending lawsuit had made him take the first available exit. I glanced at the dais where his body had been found. Except for that problem. The dais. Why was his body hidden beneath it? If it was a suicide, why was there no note?
I shook my head. There were too many people who wanted Swendson dead. It could have been suicide, but I seriously doubted it.
Freddy and I left the arena and made our way through the corridor to the back room. I saw Richard Freestone with Muffin. They looked calm and composed. He certainly didn’t seem too upset about the possibility of coming in second this year. I wondered if maybe when all this was over, if Aunt Betty finally won, perhaps she’d give Richard a chance. After all, they were of an age and they both loved dogs. Many relationships started with less.
As I leaned against the wall, I saw the Youngs with Henry. I glared at
Penelope. I couldn’t help it. That load of bull she’d told Bronson made me think she was trying to deflect suspicion from her and Jasper. Of all the competitors, those two were the worst, and given how mean Henry was, it wouldn’t surprise me at all to discover they were murderers. Okay, maybe that was a little dark but why had Penelope gone to Bronson about me? Was she just trying to cause trouble for me or did she have something to hide?
There was only one way to find out. Before I could think it through, I was striding across the room to confront them.
“Oy, Ms. Parker!”
I heard the voice calling my name. I did. But I chose to ignore it. Three days of being stressed out on top of finding a dead body and I was at my end. I wanted to kick some booty and Penelope Young’s was as good as any.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” Richard Freestone popped up in front of me with Muffin at his side. “Is there something I can help you with?”
“Nope,” I said. “I’m just going to have a little conversation.”
“Really?” he asked. “Because the way you’re flexing your fist looks like you have about five points to make. It would be a shame to lose this for Betty over an unnecessary altercation when you and Freddy are so close to a win.”
I glanced at him and then down at my fist. I unclenched my fingers and shook out my hand.
“You’re right,” I said. “Thank you for reminding me of the bigger picture.”
“No problem,” he said.
“Henry and Penelope and Jasper Young,” the PAWS person called from the door.
I watched as Penelope and Jasper made their way over. For once, Henry was walking obediently instead of being dragged. He tried to nip a poodle on his way out the door though, so there was that.
When the door closed behind them, I turned to Richard. “So who do you think killed Gerry Swendson?”
He looked surprised that I’d asked. He blinked and then he blustered a bit. “I’m not sure what you mean. It’s not been declared a murder, has it?”
I gave him an exasperated look. “What do you mean you don’t know what I mean? It’s all anyone has talked about for two days, you must have some thoughts about it. And of course it was murder. He didn’t shove himself under the dais.”
“Is that what the police think?” he asked. His eyebrows shot up.
“Yes,” I said. I sounded more certain than I actually was, but I wanted information and Richard had been around for years. Surely he had to know something.
“I prefer to leave this sort of thing up to the police,” he said. I stared at him. Hard. He sighed. “All right, now that you mention it, it did occur to me that the person with the most motive is probably Tilly.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s always the spouse,” he said.
“All right, but if it wasn’t her, then who?” I asked.
“You want me to have a number two?”
“Yes, and a three if you can manage it.”
“I can’t,” he said. “I only offered up Tilly because who else could it be?”
“I’m glad to see you’ve put so much thought into this,” I said. How had he not been consumed by this?
“Again, isn’t that what the police are for?” he asked. “That Detective Inspector Bronson scowls his way around the room, sniffing out suspects and motives. I feel like he might be part bloodhound.”
“Well, if it helps to track down the killer, I’m all for it,” I said. “Also, I don’t think it was Tilly.”
“Why not?” he asked.
“Because apparently she’s not inheriting anything but debt,” I said. “It wasn’t to her advantage to kill her husband.”
“Even if it means she’s free to be with her lover?” he asked.
“You knew about that?”
“Everyone knows about that.” His tone was dry and I laughed. “I’m only surprised Gerry didn’t kill Claudia first.”
“Claudia?” I blinked. “The head judge? Why would he?”
“As I said, everyone knows,” he said. “Except for Gerry, but maybe he found out and that’s why he’s dead.”
I felt my jaw sag open. I was trying to picture the pampered and pouty Tilly Swendson partnered with the serious and severe Claudia Curtis. It did not compute.
“Wow, I didn’t see that coming,” I said. “But if everyone knew, that makes it even more unlikely that she killed him. She must have known she’d be the prime suspect.”
“If not Tilly, then who do you think killed Swendson?” he asked. “Claudia?”
“No, and for the same reasons I don’t believe it was Tilly—it’s too obvious,” I said. “If I had a clue, I’d be badgering the police to make an arrest. Do you suppose it has something to do with the lawsuit?”
“Lawsuit?” He gave me a cautious look.
“I heard you talking to Liza Stanhope,” I said. “I know you know that there’s a lawsuit in play from some of last year’s competitors, suing Swendson’s Dog Food for making their pets sick.”
His eyes went wide. “No one is supposed to know about that.”
“Well, clearly some people do, if you know, and I know, and Liza Stanhope knows,” I said. “Don’t you think one of the people in the lawsuit could have gone off the rails and killed Swendson? I mean, people can get pretty crazy about their dogs.”
“But murder,” Richard said. He bent over and scratched Muffin’s ears. The bulldog shook her head and a little slobber settled on Freddy’s coat. Ew. “That’s a hefty price to pay for substandard dog food.”
“Like I said, pet owners can be crazy.”
“Indeed,” he agreed.
The doors opened and Jasper and Penelope entered. Jasper was carrying Henry under his arm like a basketball. I got the feeling the evaluation didn’t go so well.
“Muffin and Richard Freestone.”
At his name, Richard smiled at me. “Well, that’s us. See you on the other side.”
“Good luck,” I said. I was surprised to find that I meant it. Richard was a nice man and Muffin was a charmer in her own jowly, drooly way. Of course, she was nowhere near as awesome as Freddy but that might have just been me.
“Thanks,” he said. “Come on, Muffin.”
Freddy and I watched them leave. I glanced across the room and saw Penelope and Jasper hissing at each other. It looked like there was trouble in Youngville. This did not bother me at all. They were hands down the most obnoxious couple I had ever met and their dog was a bit of a jerk, too. The only reason I didn’t hold him responsible was because I was certain he was a product of his environment and if he was in a different home, he’d likely be a perfectly lovely Jack Russell.
As I watched, he lifted his leg and peed in the water dish of the whippet beside him. Okay, nature versus nurture, it was a toss-up.
Chapter 15
I sat alone while Richard was gone. I wondered about his point that Tilly was probably the killer. He was right. All the true-crime shows say it’s usually the spouse who commits the murder. But in this case, with the half-built castle and all the debt, it would have been so financially damaging for her to have Richard die instead of just divorcing him, why would she do it? Unless it wouldn’t be.
If it was common knowledge that she was cheating, the question was, Did they have a prenuptial agreement? If they did, maybe she would have lost everything, including the half-built castle, in a divorce. A luxury property even deep in debt might have been better than nothing.
I glanced at the clock. I figured we had a few minutes until they finished judging the last of the competitors, so I took Freddy out to the designated area to do his business. I wondered how Bella was behaving and realized that walking a dog every day was going to become part of my life. Weird.
We had just come back into the room when Liza Stanhope entered from the opposite side of the room. She clapped to get ever
yone’s attention and the conversations slowly wound down to a dull murmur.
“Attention, everyone, if you’ll kindly file into the arena, we are about to announce the winners.” She cupped her mouth with her hands to increase her volume but, truly, her voice was shrill enough to carry without the assist.
She glanced around the room and I saw her and Richard exchange a look. I wondered what it meant. Was that Liza signaling to Richard that he had won again? It wasn’t out of the realm of possibility. Our scores had been so close. Oh, no, I felt my stomach cramp.
I looked down at Freddy. Had I let him down? Was he going to be disappointed not to win the coveted crystal bowl of kibble? And even worse, Aunt Betty was going to be upset. She wanted this so badly. I didn’t know how I would face her if we lost.
“Come on.” The woman behind me nudged me none to gently. “Let’s go.”
“Sorry,” I said. Why was I apologizing? I had no idea. It’s my default setting. All day long people swirl around me and I say, “I’m sorry,” as if I have anything to do with their missing the crosswalk light, their coffee being too hot, or the drizzle of rain falling from the sky impeding their progress.
The woman nudged me again, harder this time, and asked, “Were you planning to move today or Thursday?”
I looked in front of me at the line of people and dogs surging toward the door. There was literally no place for me to go.
“Sorry,” I said. Damn it.
The woman looked annoyed. I turned my back to her. I didn’t need that sort of bad juju when I was potentially facing a crushing defeat. Inch by inch handlers and their dogs moved to the door. Finally, we were in the hallway and then out in the arena.
The crowd was restless, clearly the excitement was reaching a fevered pitch. They had us stand in a circle on the edge of the arena. Freddy and I were in between a fluffy white terrier named Kirbie and a small black and white shih tzu named Rylie. The terrier was so excited it was practically vibrating, while the shih tzu lay down on the floor and stretched out as if it was so over the whole dog show thing. Talk about your opposites. Freddy took it all in stride, sitting beside me like a proper gentleman.
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