Deadly Dog Days

by Jamie M. Blair

  “I’m not dead, thanks to you.” He held out a hand for me to come sit beside him. “I’m in your debt. If there’s ever anything I can do for you, you let me know.”

  His heavenly kitchen popped into my head. “Actually, there is something.”

  Ben let out his trademark annoyed sigh and then laughed.

  • Twenty-Four •

  Solving murders didn’t leave much time for preparing and packaging dog treats, but in the hours before opening night, Monica, Mia, Brenda, Cass, I, and the Metamora Action Agency were getting the job done thanks to Finch letting us use his restaurant-sized kitchen.

  Ben and Andy were busy building a booth for Dog Diggity in the back of the renovated barn where the Metamora Performing Arts housed their plays.

  “I talked to Elaina this morning,” Monica said, whipping up another batch of Cornmeal Dog Bark. “She was so excited at my proposal to partner in her shop, she said I could have the whole space as long as she could help out. I got it in writing, just in case she forgets all about our conversation.”

  I held back my giddy excitement. I didn’t want to scare her off. With Monica you never knew what made her whims shift from one day to the next. “So you’re staying then?”

  “Someone has to run Dog Diggity. You’re too busy promoting the town and busting bad guys to do it.”

  “I’ll help. I promise. Plus, with my five dogs and Brutus, I’ll be your best customer.”

  Brutus was officially a crime dog and Ben’s sidekick. He even pinned a badge on his collar.

  “I’ll be staying with you for a while,” she said, “until I can find a place of my own. When I do though, I’d like to take Isobel with me, if that’s okay.”

  “Absolutely. The crabby old lady dog is yours.”

  “Where are the wrappers for these things?” Roy asked, holding up a sweetie chip.

  “I’ve got them right here,” Anna said, hefting a box up onto the butcher-block center island. “I ordered them when we set up the website and had them rush delivered.”

  “Sneaky,” I said. “How did you know we’d need them?”

  “Just a hunch,” she said, grinning.

  “No way,” Mia said, holding up a paper bag with a cellophane window on one side. “They’re polka dotted.”

  “And stripes,” Logan said. “I picked the stripes.”

  The bags were aqua blue, light red, and yellow with dots in random patterns between the vertical stripes. Dog Diggity was printed in a fun script font along the top of the bag in a darker red.

  “They’re adorable,” I said. “What do you think, Monica?”

  She didn’t answer, and when I turned to look at her, she was crying. “I have a business,” she said. “With pretty bags and a shop in a nice little town. I never thought this would happen.”

  “Aww, Monica!” I hugged her and was pummeled by everyone else piling into a huge group hug. All except Roy and Johnna, of course.

  “Time’s a tickin’, Cameron Cripps-Hayman!”

  I pulled back from the cluster of arms. “Good point, Roy. Let’s get these treats packed up.”

  While everyone got back to work, Mia slid in beside me. “Can I talk to you for a minute?”

  “Of course you can.”

  She waved me out into the hall. “I was wondering—if it’s okay with my dad—if you would mind if I stayed.”

  “Sure you can. There’s a lot of summer left.”

  “No. Not for the summer. I mean, what if I stayed and didn’t go back to live with my mom?”

  “Oh! Well, I—”

  “I know it’s strange with whatever’s going on between you and my dad. And I’d have to stay with you since he doesn’t have any room for me at the gatehouse. I understand if you don’t want me here after I wrecked your car and everything. It’s just that, my mom isn’t home a lot. She likes to go out with her friends, and I miss my dad.”

  “Mia,” I said, taking her hands, “you’re always welcome with me, whether I’m at Ellsworth House or somewhere else. I’d like to spend time with you and get to know you. We haven’t had much of a chance in the past four years. But I have one condition.”

  She dropped her gaze to her feet. “What?”

  “Please try to stop rolling your eyes.” I laughed, and she did too, looking up at me.

  “I’ll try.”

  “Liam will be happy you’re staying. Are you going to keep working at the Soda Pop Shop?”

  “Yeah. I really like it, and Steph needs the help.”

  I gave her a hug. “You’re a true Daughter of Metamora, pitching in to lend a hand to your friend in need.”

  “Ugh,” she groaned. “Those old ladies and their rules have got to go. They think they run the town.”

  “Well, they kind of do.”

  “Want to know a secret?” she said. “I like the colors you painted the house.”

  “Yes!” I pumped my fist in the air in victory.

  Now if I could just get my weathervane back.

  Finally, after much work and anxiety, it was opening night for A Dog’s Life!

  The Dog Diggity booth was painted the same color scheme as the treat bags—aqua blue, light red and yellow stripes, and dots—and adorned with a sign in the same cute script. The barn was packed. Every seat was filled, and people even stood along the walls. Roy mingled with the guests, introducing himself to the ones he’d reserved tickets for. Johnna sat in the front row with Betty and Judy, ready to cheer on Cass. Logan and Anna sat beside them, holding hands again. Andy had his tripod set up in the middle aisle. Whether the performance ended up immortalized in his documentary or not, it was going to be an unforgettable night.

  Soapy stepped up to the microphone center stage and announced five minutes until curtain. Fiona and Jim Stein passed by the Dog Diggity booth, where Monica and I were setting up. Jim patted my hand and said, “I hear you’re the town hero!” in his boisterous voice.

  “Hero might be an exaggeration,” I said. “I got lucky.”

  Fiona smiled and gave me a stiff nod. “Congratulations on your capture,” she said, which was strange and a bit awkward.

  “Thank you.”

  They shuffled to the middle of the center row and sat with Irene and Stewart, and Mia and Ben. Ben was ecstatic about Mia staying. He set up an appointment with Mr. Stein, the principal, to go over a class schedule and extracurriculars, like cheerleading or maybe volleyball. Come fall, Mia would officially be a Metamora High School Indian.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I caught Roger Tillerman making his way through the crowd. He met my eyes and waved. Our disastrous date would serve as a warning to all women: wearing hoop skirts was a liability to a female’s dignity. You could end up on the floor wearing your meal.

  Old Dan hobbled in, escorted by his son, Frank. They took a seat in the last row beside Reverend Stroup and Sheriff Reins. Just about everyone in town was in attendance for opening night. Even Will had returned early from his antiquing after hearing the case was solved. It turned out he’d gone to his parents’ house in Cincinnati. Brenda forgave him the fib, knowing he didn’t have the constitution to live in the shop next door to me, a suspected murderess.

  The lights flashed off and on, signaling the start of the play. Monica and I pulled a pair of stools to the front of our booth, sat down and got comfy. Even if I had nothing to do with the play directly in terms of putting on the show, I still felt like a proud mama. Cass’s Fiddle Dee Doo Inn was full and so was Judy’s Briar Bird. Betty had customers all afternoon buying cookies and Mia came home from the Soda Pop Shop exhausted. The town was busier than it had been since Canal Days last fall, and heading into Independence Day, most of our visitors were staying for the fireworks in a few days.

  Something wrapped around my ankle. I looked down, and a pair of glowing emerald eyes peered up at me. “Aren’t
you the man about town,” I said, leaning down to pet Spook.

  The spotlight came on, and Carl Finch stood center stage. “Welcome, friends and neighbors. Tonight’s performance of A Dog’s Life! is dedicated, in memoriam, to Jennifer L. Berg, a lovely young woman taken from us too soon. Jenn loved dogs, as do I. One helped save my life recently, as a matter of fact. Tonight, all proceeds from your purchases of homemade Dog Diggity dog treats at the booth in the back will be donated to the Brookville Animal Shelter in Jenn Berg’s name. In addition, I’ll be matching the donation in honor of a woman whose courage knows no bounds, Cameron Cripps-Hayman.”

  Hot tears burst from my eyes at the smattering of applause and turned heads, craning to find me in the back. Monica paused in her clapping to pat my leg. “That’s my big sister.”

  I didn’t know what tomorrow would bring, but right then, I was a full-fledged Metamoran basking in the warmth of my neighbors’ approval and friendship.

  • Twenty-Five •

  The play was an uncontested success despite having such a short time to pull it together. The next morning, the front page of the Metamora Mirror’s Sunday edition displayed a full color photo of the cast with a caption reading, Dog Gone Great!

  Cass showed the unique ability to perform on all fours without speaking as the lead dog. Not to mention her howling and barking abilities during the musical numbers. Soapy proved he wasn’t only an excellent mayor, but a superb actor as well, and Theresa could really sing!

  “I want to be in the next musical,” Mia said, pouring maple syrup on her pancakes. Lucky for us, Monica could make more than dog treats.

  “You’ll have to try out then,” I said. “You think you’d like being on stage in front of an audience?”

  “Please. I’d love it,” she said then pointed at me with her fork. “You just rolled your eyes at me.”

  I laughed. “You’re rubbing off on me.”

  The front door opened, and Andy stuck his head inside. “Cam? Sue’s here to see you.”

  Talking with Sue Nelson was something I’d planned to do once the town quieted down from the hustle and bustle of the play and the aftermath of Stoddard’s arrest. I hurried to the door and stepped out to a shouted warning from Andy.

  “Look out! The bees are back!” Even on Sunday, he was there, relentlessly battling the boring bees.

  I darted around a buzzing brigade to the edge of the porch, where Sue stood. Her eyes were sunken into the deep, dark bags underneath them, but through her grief, there was a sense of relief and finality. “I’m so sorry, Sue.”

  “No,” she said, “I’m the one who’s sorry. I got so caught up in the gossip that I believed … And you were the one who caught him.”

  “You don’t need to say another word,” I said, taking her hands in mine. “There are no hard feelings on my part, and no need for apologizing on yours.”

  She let out a long breath. Her eyes glistened with tears. “I hope we can put this behind us.”

  “You and I? Of course. Already forgotten.” I pulled her in for a hug. “I wish I knew what to say or do to make this easier for you.”

  “You’re a good friend, Cam. That’s all I need.” She stepped back and smiled, then descended the porch steps. I watched her make her way down the sidewalk to the street, past Will’s antique shop and Betty’s bakery. Nobody should have to suffer the loss of a child, but with time and the help of her friends and neighbors, the hurt in Sue’s heart would abate.

  Back inside, Gus dashed through the kitchen and into the dining room with the wild twins chasing after him, and Liam chasing after them, yapping his little brains out. “That’s my tough guy,” Mia said. “Get ’em!”

  Isobel bared her teeth and growled her crabby old gravelly growl. “We’d better get leashes on them,” I said. “Your dad will be here any minute.”

  I grabbed Gus and the two furry cyclones, Mia got Liam decked out in his rhinestone collar, and Monica sweet-talked cranky Isobel out from beside the fridge.

  We wrangled the dogs out the front door, down the porch stairs and out into the yard at top speed, avoiding the bees. Mia sheltered Liam by wrapping her whole body around him, and Monica practically dragged Isobel behind her.

  “I played back the film of Stoddard’s arrest,” Andy said, joining us. “It’s good stuff. I’m thinking of maybe going with a Crime in Small Town America angle. I’m going to need more footage, though, so I guess I’ll be sticking around a while.”

  “As long as I have bees and peeling paint,” I said, “you’ll have a couple bucks in your pocket.”

  Speaking of a few bucks, Dog Diggity raised almost $250 for the Brookville Animal Shelter the previous night, and Finch more than matched it. He more than doubled it. He was very generous and promised to match our sales for tonight’s show as well.

  Ben’s truck pulled into the driveway, and Mia jogged over to greet him. Brutus jumped out of the bed of the pickup. Sometimes I was convinced that dog was made of steel.

  “Ready for a walk?” Ben asked Mia, slipping a training collar over Brutus’s head.

  The two of them and their dogs came up alongside Monica and Isobel, and me and my three unruly beasties. “Before we set off,” I told my pack—very sternly, I might add—“there will be no chasing ducks today. Got it?”

  Thing One lurched forward and bit Thing Two’s jaw, starting a snarling, biting war that Gus jumped in on. Clearly, they were not paying attention to a word I had to say.

  “Alright, let’s go.” I tugged the leashes and got them moving. Brutus padded along with Gus as Ben strolled beside me. Monica lagged behind with Isobel stopping to sniff every inch of the road, and Mia stayed with her, cuddling Liam to her chest.

  “The Indianapolis PD found the murder weapon,” Ben said, with an unmistakable quirk to his lips.

  “Why are you smiling like that?” I said. “There should be nothing funny about a murder weapon.”

  “What if it’s an antique owl andiron that Stoddard bought from my mother?”

  “What? She took those and sold them? Now she’s just messing with me, Ben. She knew I loved those.”

  “I wondered why she wanted them. She always thought they were an eyesore, but that they had to stay with the house.”

  “That woman. I swear, she’s going to—”

  “Cam!” Soapy called to me as we crossed over the bridge. “A minute?” He was hustling toward us.

  “Sure, Soap!” Suspicion and curiosity zinged through me, making me forget about my evil mother-in-law. I hope I hadn’t done anything wrong. More fines weren’t really in my budget.

  Beside me, Ben chuckled. “It’s nothing bad, don’t worry.”

  “How do you know?”

  “He was looking for you after the play last night. You’d already gone.”

  I told Monica and Mia to go on ahead when Soapy met up with us in front of the canal.

  “Last night was amazing,” Soapy said. “I can’t thank you enough for the work you did with your Action Agency. But the packed house made it pretty clear that we need someone promoting the town full-time.”

  “Full-time?”

  “Yes. I’m going to set aside a portion of the town’s budget and use the Daughters of Metamora fine collections to pay someone to keep planning events and bringing in visitors. I’d love that person to be you, Cam, if you’ll continue on in the role.”

  “Planning events like last night full-time? I would love to! Yes! Count me in!” My head was spinning. I didn’t even notice the impatient trio of dogs tugging on their leashes. I never imagined my volunteer work becoming a full-time paid position with the town.

  Soapy gave my hand a vigorous shake. “Welcome aboard, officially! I’ll have to get you a few of our town council polo shirts to wear to board meetings.”

  “Board meetings?” My excitement level went a notch even higher. A
t board meetings, I’d be privy to all the inside town info. Plus their polo shirts had the town logo on them—the town name with a little Metamora Mike embroidered underneath. They were very cute. Maybe I could get Johnna to customize mine by embroidering a dog chasing Mike.

  “All town employees are on the board. You’ll need to have a presentation ready two weeks from tomorrow showing how you’ll make Canal Days bigger than ever this year. Think you’re up for the challenge?”

  “More than up for it.”

  “Good. I didn’t want to have to deal with Roy pestering me for the position, and after last night and the way he was bragging about bringing in a party of ten to the performance, he would’ve been on my doorstep first thing.”

  I laughed, but Roy was a people person. He had a natural gift of gab. I wasn’t sure what my Action Agency would look like without him and Johnna now that their service hours were fulfilled.

  “Come by the Soapy Savant tomorrow morning at eight sharp,” Soapy said. “We’ll get your new hire paperwork started and figure out where to set you up.”

  I promised to be on time, and Ben and I parted ways with Soapy. As we resumed walking—me being dragged along, more like—my mind zoomed in a million directions at once. I had so many ideas, I couldn’t wait to get home and write them all down.

  “You’re deliriously happy,” Ben said, giving my hand a squeeze. “I haven’t seen that look on your face since we moved here.”

  “I think your mother is going to go through the roof when she finds out I’ll be paying myself when I pay her fines.” I couldn’t help but laugh. Irene would be irate! “I would do it for free, Ben. You know that. But getting paid and working for the town is more than I ever dreamed of. It’s perfect. You’re right, I am deliriously happy.”

  He smiled a smile that I hadn’t seen for a very long time. It was a smile that put a shine in his eyes and took away the worry lines between his brows. “In that case, Mrs. Cripps-Hayman,” he said, “would you do me the favor of going to a movie with me before the fireworks Tuesday?”