Melanie Travis 06 - Hush Puppy

by Berenson, Laurien

  Both hands outstretched, she shoved hard against his chest. If Beau hadn’t been behind him, Michael might have stood a chance. Instead, his balance already compromised, he tripped over the big Poodle and he went down in a heap.

  Duct tape tangling in his fingers, Michael was struggling to get to his gun when Jane and I jumped up to join the fray. The Poodles were running around us, barking maniacally. First they’d gotten in Michael’s way; now they were in mine. I knew I wouldn’t reach him fast enough.

  It didn’t matter. Aunt Peg had everything under control. Calmly she picked up the chair she’d been sitting on and hit Michael over the head with it.

  I’d barely had time to assimilate that before the back door burst open. Guns drawn, a band of police officers led by Detective Shertz came flying into the room. The Poodles looked as stunned by this turn of events as I was. Aunt Peg was grinning.

  Shertz skidded to a stop and looked down at Michael, out cold on the floor.

  “Aren’t you going to yell ‘Freeze!’?” asked Jane. She was grinning, too.

  The detective didn’t look amused. He turned to Aunt Peg. “Who do you think you are, John Wayne?”

  “I didn’t expect to have to do the whole thing myself. I thought you were going to back me up.” She didn’t ask what-took-you-so-long? but the sentiment was clear in her tone.

  “We were getting into position,” said Shertz. “You were supposed to wait for us to make our move.”

  Obviously he’d never met my aunt before. Anyone who had would know that waiting patiently is not her style.

  “That was cool,” said Jane.

  “Wasn’t it?” Peg agreed, beaming. “I haven’t had that much fun in a long time. Melanie, next time you track down a murderer, I want you to promise to take me with you.”

  If there was a suitable answer to that, I had no idea what it might be. Aunt Peg and Jane were congratulating themselves on their fine adventure. Meanwhile, my knees felt weak.

  “You could have gotten yourself shot,” I said, as one of the officers used the phone to call for an ambulance.

  “Oh pish,” said Aunt Peg. “He’d put the gun in his belt. If it had gone off, the only thing he’d have harmed was . . .” She glanced at Jane, who was listening avidly, and let the thought dangle.

  Be careful what you wish for, I told myself darkly. I was the one who hadn’t wanted to miss out on the grand finale.

  “Besides,” Peg said brightly, “all’s well that ends well. I seem to have worked up an appetite. Would any of you gentlemen like some cake?”

  Shaking my head, I turned to Detective Shertz. “How did you know that Michael was here?”

  “We didn’t. But by the time we’d checked his house and found out he wasn’t home, Russell Hanover had called the station. He said you’d located Jane, and we followed you here to pick her up.”

  Jane sat down beside the table. Beau climbed up to put his front legs in her lap. Her fingers tangled in the silky black topknot, and her gaze was distant. “He killed Krebbs,” she said.

  “I know,” Shertz’s voice was gentle. “We heard him tell you.”

  “He was looking for me.”

  “We wouldn’t have let him hurt you,” I said firmly, staring at Detective Shertz.

  “Ms. Travis is right. Durant was making too many mistakes. We were already on his trail.”

  By the time the ambulance arrived, Michael was moaning as he began to wake up; several of the officers were enjoying cake; and Peg and I were anxious to get back to Howard Academy. I’d called Russell as soon as the excitement died down and he was waiting for us. Detective Shertz was going to take Jane and deliver her to her grandmother, but I promised to call later and let her know what we’d found.

  “Me too,” said Shertz, handing me his card. “I’ll be at the station a while tonight.”

  Ten minutes later, we split up and headed in three different directions. Speed limits in Greenwich are low. I broke a few laws on the way to the school, but I was pretty sure I could get Shertz to fix a ticket if I had to.

  Night comes early in March but from the road, Howard Academy was a blaze of light. I pulled up to the front door. Russell had it open before the Volvo even rolled to a stop. I’d explained much of what happened over the phone, but I hadn’t told him everything about Honoria’s portrait.

  That was purely selfish on my part. If there really was a treasure, I wanted to be on hand for the unveiling. I set out for the faculty lounge at a jog. Peg, Russell, and Faith matched my pace.

  “Don’t get your hopes up,” I said, opening the door and flipping on the light. “After all this time, it may be nothing.”

  I might as well have saved my breath. Despite the odds, I knew we were all hoping like crazy.

  Together, Russell and I lifted the painting off the wall. Though I peered at it closely, the front looked the same as ever. From the back, there was nothing to be seen but the wooden frame and stretched canvas. I’d been hoping there would be paper across the back, perhaps with room to tuck something inside, but there wasn’t. Everything was exposed; no hiding place existed.

  I ran my fingers around the edges of the canvas, holding my breath as I probed for something, anything. Russell and Peg watched anxiously. I shrugged.

  “There’s a screwdriver around here somewhere.” Russell opened several drawers and rifled through them. “Maybe if we remove the painting from the frame . . .”

  We undid the clasps and gently pried the canvas free. Now we had two pieces, and still nothing out of the ordinary. Our collective disappointment was palpable.

  “Wait,” said Peg. “Let me try something. I read about this in a book once.”

  She grasped the canvas and began to work along the edges with her fingers. It wasn’t a single piece as I’d thought. Slowly, Honoria’s portrait began to come loose and peel away. A swirl of color took shape behind it.

  The frame had held two paintings, one on top of the other. One worthless. The other . . .

  We all stared. Russell was the one who thought to step back. When I joined him, my vision cleared. The two of us began to grin like we were demented.

  “What?” Peg demanded, holding the canvas. The last of Honoria’s portrait lifted off, and she uncovered the signature in the corner. Her breath escaped in a whoosh.

  Eugène Delacroix, it said.

  Twenty-eight

  I guess you could say I got off lucky.

  Russell hadn’t been pleased about the way I’d defied his edict not to get involved, but once the Delacroix was discovered, he decided he could overlook a few transgressions on my part. The painting was a minor work, one of the artist’s later street scenes, but an appraiser at Christie’s assured us that it was valuable enough to fund Howard Academy’s scholarship needs until well into the next century.

  I never did find out why the headmaster had been sneaking around the back stairs, and any hints I dropped in that direction were firmly quashed. For the sake of the new equanimity in our relationship, I let the matter drop. Everyone’s entitled to have a secret or two.

  At least that’s what I’d been telling myself since I’d made the recent discoveries that two of the most important people in my life had been holding out on me. That didn’t mean I was going to be as lenient with them as I had with my boss. Are you kidding? I wanted a showdown.

  During the week, I called and invited Sheila and Aunt Peg to join Sam, Davey, and me for lunch on Saturday. Faith had been entered in a dog show that weekend, but with the damage to her coat, I’d be lucky to have her back in the ring by summer. Instead I decided to use the unexpected day off to hold the first barbecue of the year.

  Sheila seemed a little surprised by the invitation. When she hesitated, mumbling something about having a Pug entered on Sunday and preparations to make, I mentioned that Sam was going to be there.

  “Really?” Her interest level climbed a notch. “I’m surprised he can spare the time. He’s been so busy lately.”

  “I
hadn’t noticed,” I said sweetly. The gauntlet hit the ground with a thud. “He’s always able to make time for me.”

  I thought I heard a growl coming through the phone line. Maybe Sheila had stepped on one of her little dogs. In any case, the lure of her ex-husband’s company proved irresistible, and Sheila promised to come.

  And what did Sam think of the fact that I was dangling him in front of his ex-wife like a juicy marrow bone? He didn’t exactly know about it. I may be sneaky and underhanded, but I’m not dumb.

  The last time—the only time—I’d seen Sam and Sheila together, he’d run from my side to hers without giving it a thought. Though he’d said all the right things since, it was time for him to back up those words with action. Throwing them together unexpectedly was, I figured, the best way to elicit an honest response.

  Sam and I were in the backyard when Sheila arrived. The weather was a little chilly, but the sun was shining and you could unfasten the top button of your coat without fear of frostbite. Davey and the Poodles had gone inside to look for a Frisbee. Sam was removing the tarp from the grill and checking to see how much damage the winter had done.

  I heard a car pull into the driveway and walked to the gate on the side of the house. In deference to the brisk temperature, Sheila had bundled up. The Sherpa vest looked very chic, but I thought the gloves and furry earmuffs were overkill. I was wearing Polartec myself. Lots of warmth, little bulk. Someone as tiny as Sheila ought to look into a product like that.

  “Is that Peg?” Sam asked, looking up from the grill as Sheila sailed past me and into the yard.

  “No, honey, it’s me.” Her smile was wide and confident. She strode to Sam’s side. “Nice to see you again.”

  Sam leaned down to peck her chastely on the cheek. His eyes found mine over Sheila’s shoulder, and he didn’t look pleased. “I had no idea you were coming.”

  “No?” Her eyelashes fluttered. “I knew you’d be here. That’s why I came.”

  “I hope not,” Sam said, as Aunt Peg walked through the gate. “Melanie, can I see you inside for a minute? Peg, perhaps you wouldn’t mind keeping Sheila company? Mel and I will be right back.”

  Meekly, I followed him into the kitchen.

  “All right,” Sam said, when he’d closed the door behind us, “what are you up to?”

  “Me?” I tried that fluttery lashes thing. It didn’t work nearly so well for me as it had for Sheila.

  “Yes, you.” Sam seemed to be fighting the urge to smile. “Do you see anyone else in the room?”

  I checked behind me, just in case, then shook my head.

  “This is a test, isn’t it?”

  “Well . . .”

  “I thought so. Then, here’s my answer. Did you see the way I kissed Sheila out there? Take that as a measure of my feelings for her. This is how I feel about you.”

  Sam’s arms wrapped around me and pulled me to his chest. His lips closed over mine. Our mouths opened, our tongues met. I felt as though my bones were melting. The world around me faded; nothing mattered except Sam.

  When he released me a minute later I had to catch myself to keep from falling. My Polartec jacket felt like an oven, and I fumbled with the zipper. My fingers felt numb; my heart pounded in my chest. I wouldn’t have been surprised to find that I had smoke coming out of my ears.

  Sam leaned back against the counter and gazed at me. “Well?”

  It took a moment for my eyes to focus. “A+,” I managed finally.

  “Am I going to have to keep proving this to you?”

  “I sincerely hope so.” I grinned shamelessly. After a minute, Sam joined in.

  Carrying a tray holding hot dogs, hamburgers, and rolls, we went back outside. Sam was looking smug; I was still unsteady on my feet. Sheila glared at us both.

  I was almost tempted to feel a little sorry for her; but I gave it a moment, and the feeling passed.

  After we ate, Sam and Davey started a game of Frisbee. Vying for the good-sport award, Sheila joined in. I took the opportunity to pull Aunt Peg aside. From the way her gaze had been shifting away from mine all afternoon, I knew she knew what was coming.

  “Go ahead and spit it out,” she said, crossing her arms implacably over her chest. “You’re mad.”

  “Wouldn’t you be? You bought me a job.”

  “I did no such thing. You deserved that position. You had the education, the experience, the credentials. All I did was help the process along.”

  “You bribed Russell Hanover into hiring me.”

  “Don’t be silly,” Peg snapped. “The money I offered was a donation, that’s all.”

  “It came with strings.”

  “Bequests often do. It’s the way the world works.”

  She didn’t have a clue, I realized. She honestly didn’t understand why I was upset.

  “All right,” I said. “Suppose you had a very pretty bitch, one you were really proud of. You took her to a show and she won the points, deservedly so in your eyes. Then later you found out that I’d bribed the judge to put you up.”

  “That’s highly illegal!”

  I shrugged.

  “And immoral.”

  “But not impossible.”

  “Not under some circumstances,” Peg conceded grudgingly. There aren’t many crooked judges at dog shows, but human nature being what it is, one can never rule out the possibility.

  “How would you feel?”

  “You know perfectly well I’d be livid—” Aunt Peg stopped and frowned. Bingo. I let her stew for a minute, hoping she was feeling guilty.

  “I might let you make it up to me.”

  She didn’t jump at the chance. Instead Peg looked decidedly suspicious. “How?”

  I gestured to the game. “Keep Sheila out of Sam’s and my way until she goes back to Chicago.”

  “That’s nearly three months from now!” She didn’t sound pleased by the size of the task.

  “Maybe that will teach you not to butt into my life.”

  “I doubt it,” said Peg.

  We’d barely gotten that settled when she dropped another bomb shell. “I went to visit Jane and her grandmother this morning.”

  “Oh?” Now it was my turn to be suspicious.

  “I had an idea. Jane and I spoke about it last weekend. She’s an inordinately clever child. I thought it seemed a shame that nobody’d ever taken the time to channel all that intelligence and energy in a worthwhile direction.”

  “So you decided to step in.” For once, I couldn’t fault her intentions. “And?”

  “I’m told the girl spends most of her time at Howard Academy anyway, so legitimizing her presence seemed like a logical idea. When I offered to pay her tuition, Russell decided that under the circumstances, a midsemester enrollment could be made.

  “He’s already lined up some sessions with the Howard Academy therapist. I believe she’ll be starting Monday. And, of course, she’s missed a great deal of schoolwork.” Aunt Peg’s gaze slid my way. “That’s where you come in.”

  “Me?” I asked faintly.

  “You’ll have less than three months to complete a semester’s worth of work so she can go on to eighth grade with the rest of her class. Think you can handle that?”

  If anyone could manage, it would be Jane. By the end of the year, she’d probably be running the place. I looked forward to watching her take Howard Academy by storm.

  One last thing. With Michael and Ed both having been terminated, Russell appointed two more teachers to take their places on the pageant committee. After all the recent turmoil, the headmaster decided it was more important than ever that the school proceed with its plans. He did request however that, in light of recent developments, the committee choose a new theme.

  We got together and voted. Pirates of Penzance won by a mile. One teacher abstained.

  I was too busy laughing to raise my hand.

  For fellow dog lovers everywhere, here’s a treat that your dogs will adore. I don’t know the origin of th
is recipe, but dog show exhibitors have been using it for years. These brownies make wonderful bait in the show ring, or a terrific reward for a great dog anytime.

  Dog Brownies

  Ingredients:

  1 lb. liver

  1 C flour

  2 C cornmeal

  2 eggs

  ½ C chicken broth or milk

  garlic powder (to taste—my dogs like a lot!)

  Puree liver in blender or food processor. Add pureed liver (and juices) to dry ingredients in mixing bowl. Stir together well, adding liquid as necessary. Pour mixture into a greased brownie pan and bake for 25 minutes at 350 degrees.

  Cool, cut, and enjoy!

  In order not to spoil, these brownies must be refrigerated. They can also be frozen and thawed as needed, but in my house, with six dogs who recognize the aroma of baking brownies and wait anxiously in the kitchen for them to cool, this is rarely an option.

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  One

  Run, I thought. Run like the wind.

  Instead I heard myself say, “Sure, Sheila, that sounds like fun.”

  About as much fun as knee surgery.

  “Wonderful.” Sheila’s low, husky voice flowed through the phone line. “I’m so glad you can come. Brian and I will look forward to it.”

  “Sam and I will, too.”

  Liar, I thought as I hung up the phone. Idiot.

  I don’t often call myself names, but in this case it was justified. Though Sam Driver is my fiancé, I don’t usually accept social engagements on his behalf without checking with him first. Especially not when they’ve been extended by his ex-wife.