Hot Dog

by Laurien Berenson

  “Getting much on-air time lately?”

  Her frown came and went so quickly I almost missed it. “Not really. But that’s going to change. As soon as I bring in a big story.”

  She’d taken a seat at the kitchen table. I placed soda and glass in front of her, then pulled out a chair and joined her. “This big story.”

  “If I’m lucky.”

  “What if you’re not?”

  “Then eventually I guess I’ll have to give up and move on. But don’t worry about me. My instincts are pretty good. I think I’m in the right place.”

  Jill pulled her purse into her lap and began to rummage through it. “I’m sorry, my memory is terrible. And of course, I don’t want to get anything wrong. Do you mind if I take notes?”

  “Yes,” I said succinctly. “I do mind. Besides, what I have to say won’t be noteworthy. I want you to stop following me around. I don’t know how to make myself any clearer than that. Go away and leave me alone.”

  I’d half hoped Jill might take offense at my tone. It didn’t happen. I had to give the woman credit; she didn’t even blink.

  Instead she looked at me and sighed. “That’s pretty clear all right. The only problem is, it isn’t going to happen. Let’s get something straight. I’m not following you because I think it’s fun. I’d rather be just about anywhere else than sitting in that damn car. But it’s not like I have a choice.

  “Back at the station I’m low man on the totem pole, and trust me, nobody else is going to give me a leg up. The only way to get ahead in this business is to make it happen yourself. I have to find a story that’s going to break me out of the pack. For better or for worse, you’re it.”

  “I’m not it,” I said. I might as well have been talking to one of Faith’s chew toys for all the good my objections did.

  “You are,” she said simply. “You have to be.”

  “Why?”

  “Because you’re all I’ve got!” Her voice rose. “For pity’s sake, do you think big stories are a dime a dozen in Fairfield County? I swear this must be the snooze capital of the East Coast.”

  “Then why don’t you go some place else?”

  “Because this is where I have my foot in the door. Maybe what I’ve accomplished doesn’t seem like much to you, but at least it’s something. At least I’m working in television.”

  She wasn’t going to listen to logic. Indeed judging by the stubborn set of Jill’s shoulders, she wasn’t going to listen to anything except what she wanted to hear. I sorted quickly through the alternatives.

  “What if we could find a compromise,” I proposed.

  Jill put down her soda. “I’m listening.”

  “As you’re obviously aware, I do seem to be a bit of a magnet for trouble. I have no idea why.” Bad luck probably. Or maybe bad karma from a former life. “For whatever reason, I have had an affinity for being in the wrong place at the right time. Of course, that doesn’t mean it’s going to happen again. Maybe all the adventures I’m going to have are behind me now.”

  Fat chance, I thought. But one could always hope. “But if they’re not, if I should somehow get involved in another murder . . .”

  “Yes?” Jill prompted when I hesitated. I couldn’t believe I was about to make this offer.

  “I’ll call you.”

  Jill’s eyes lit up. I raised a hand, forestalling her enthusiastic outburst.

  “Not for an interview. Not for a story about me. But I’ll give you the inside scoop on the mystery when it’s over.”

  Jill’s enthusiasm died. She frowned and shook her head. “I need something that’s breaking news. Something I can report on live.”

  “You need whatever you can get.” Outside, I heard the squeal of air brakes, signaling the arrival of Davey’s bus.

  “What you’re offering isn’t good enough.”

  I pushed back my chair and stood. “Look at it this way. It’ll get you out of your car and back to your own life. It will make Rich happy.”

  “What’s he got to do with this?”

  “He’s the other half of your team, isn’t he? It seems to me that one reason why a guy might schlepp a camera all the way to Rhode Island on a wild goose chase is because he wants to humor a pretty coworker. It must be hard for the two of you to get together when you’re spending all your spare time shadowing me.”

  Jill didn’t look convinced. “Rich knows how important my career is to me.”

  The Poodles, hearing Davey’s bus, had already run to the front door with Dox scampering happily along behind to see what all the fuss was about. I needed to go with them. But first I needed to get things settled with Jill.

  “Look,” I said, “What I’m offering you is the best of both worlds. You get your life back, plus, if you’re lucky—and I’m unlucky—you’ll get your story, too.”

  “Not the way I want it,” Jill said stubbornly.

  I threw up my hands. I’m a reasonable person. At least I’d like to think I am. But there was no reasoning with Jill Prescott, Miss Cable News.

  “Come on.” I spun around and headed for the front door. “Time’s up. Out you go. Back to your car.”

  “Just like that?” Jill asked. At least she was following me. If she refused to leave, I had no idea how I was going to get rid of her. “We’re done? We didn’t agree on anything.”

  “We tried.” I shrugged. “I guess that’s about as close as we’re going to come.”

  With three dogs, two of them pretty big, milling around the door, I could see why Jill would hang back. Not me. I waded through the melee and opened it just as Davey reached the top of the steps.

  “Hey!” He shrugged out of his backpack and let it fall to the floor. His sweatshirt followed a moment later. “Only one more day of school until spring break!”

  This announcement was accompanied by a victory dance which made up in enthusiasm what it lacked in coordination. Eve, getting into the spirit of the celebration, spun around on her hind legs and knocked Davey over. Giggling, he went down in a heap. Taking their cue, the dogs piled on top of him.

  As I reached down to pick up Davey’s things, Jill said from behind me, “Cute kid.”

  “Thanks.”

  “I won’t have time for children,” Her voice was firm. “I’ll be too busy with my career.”

  “Oh? You’ve decided that already?”

  “Sure. Why not?” Pressing her back to the wall, Jill inched her way around the pile of bodies in the middle of the floor.

  “It just seems like you’re a little young to be ruling things out of your life.”

  “I’m twenty-two years old, and I know what I want. I figure that gives me a head start on most people. Believe me, I have no intention of spending my early work years floundering. I’ve set my goals and I’m going after them.”

  She slipped out through the open doorway and left without looking back. Watching her go, I didn’t know whether to be impressed by her determination or scared half to death that it was aimed in my direction.

  Fortunately, Davey loves to ride in the car. Most days he doesn’t even care where we’re going as long as we’re on the road. This wasn’t the first time I’d taken him to Phil Dutton’s house when I was pet-sitting. By now, he knew the routine almost as well as I did.

  Bearing Monday’s experience in mind, I didn’t use my key to let us in. Instead, I rang the doorbell, then waited a minute to see if anyone would answer.

  “Come on, Mom.” Davey tugged at my sleeve, impatiently.

  We could hear Maisie and Mutt inside, yapping frantically and throwing themselves against the door. I fitted the key to the lock. As soon as the door was open, Davey slithered through ahead of me. I hung back, using my body to block the space so the two dogs couldn’t dash out.

  “Hello?” I called. “Anybody home?”

  The house looked empty. Then again, it had looked empty on Monday, too. The fact that Phil had been there the whole time without my knowing it seemed kind of strange. He said he
’d been working in the basement, but I had no way of knowing if that was true or not. For all I knew, he might have been watching me.

  “Of course nobody’s home!” Davey snorted with all the disdain a seven-year-old could muster. “That’s why we’re here.”

  “Right.” I blew out a breath and reached for Mutt’s and Maisie’s leashes.

  I had no intention of telling Davey otherwise. There was no reason that my son needed to know that there’d been nobody in our house the night before either, and yet somehow the door had gotten unlocked and the television set turned on.

  Whoever Nobody was, he was beginning to drive me crazy.

  12

  That night Aunt Peg phoned to ask for a favor. You might call this familiar territory. As usual, I tried to find out what she wanted before agreeing to get involved. Such reticence on my part is a survival skill of sorts. You wouldn’t believe some of the harebrained ideas Aunt Peg has come up with. Nor the entirely reasonable way she has of explaining what she wants.

  “This will only take an hour of your time,” she said. “Maybe two, tops.”

  I carried the phone over to a chair and sat down. When Aunt Peg starts talking about the brevity of her plans, it’s time to settle in for the duration.

  “What do I need to do?”

  “Drive down to Norwalk and have a nice chat with George Firth.”

  “Why would I want to do that?”

  “Because Marian asked me to.” Not surprisingly, Aunt Peg hurried on before I could interrupt. “She’s still very upset over this whole situation with Dox. Marian is not what you might call a patient woman. She wants things resolved now, right this minute if possible.” Gee, I thought. I guessed that meant that Marian Firth and my Aunt Peg had more in common than their love of dogs.

  “Of course, Marian can’t talk to George herself. If there was anything at all amicable about their divorce this never would have happened in the first place. She needs somebody objective to intervene, someone who can convince George of the error of his ways.”

  “Why me?” I asked. I may also have rolled my eyes toward the heavens as I uttered this plaintive cry.

  I was speaking rhetorically, but Aunt Peg, who thankfully couldn’t see the gesture, chose to answer. “I’d be happy to go see George myself, but there’s a problem with that. According to Marian, the man works all week and golfs on Sundays. So the only day there’s a hope of catching him when he might be receptive to listening is Saturday. As you well know, this Saturday I’ll be judging at the Twin Forks dog show. Of course Marian understood that I couldn’t be in two places at once, so she was quite delighted when I volunteered you to take my place.”

  “Aunt Peg, you’re only judging one breed, and Poodles are scheduled for the afternoon. The dog show is an hour away; you’ll have your whole morning free.”

  My aunt’s silence rebuked me for pointing out the obvious. “Technically that’s true. But you know how I get before an assignment. . . .”

  “Nervous?”

  “Justifiably concerned about doing a good job.” Her tone was prim. “I’d hate to be distracted at a crucial time. And what if I got stuck in traffic on the way to the showground? What if I missed my assignment altogether?”

  Not likely, considering that Aunt Peg had made a habit of arriving hours early for the judging assignments she’d performed thus far. Since I suffered similar nerves when I went in the ring, however, I decided not to press the issue.

  “I don’t know what makes you think I’d be any good at this,” I said instead. “I don’t even know George Firth. Why would he listen to anything I have to say?”

  “Because you’ll be the voice of reason. Perhaps he has no idea what a terrible thing he did by throwing poor little Dox out into the world to fend for himself. Once he’s been made to understand where he went wrong, I’ve no doubt you’ll be able to convince him to retract his decision.”

  Hadn’t I solved this problem once already? I wondered. Or maybe even twice, considering that the puppy in question, far from fending for himself in the cold, cruel world, was at that moment asleep quite comfortably under my kitchen table.

  “Has it occurred to you that that may be a bad idea?” I asked. “The way things stand now, Marian is assured of having a chance to bid on the puppy at the auction. If George changes his mind and takes Dox back, who knows what sort of disposal scheme he’ll come up with next?”

  “Don’t worry about that,” said Aunt Peg, “Marian has a plan. I must say, it sounds rather ingenious to me”

  Oh Good Lord. Aunt Peg with an idea was bad enough. Peg and Marian hatching up schemes together was definitely more than I could handle.

  “Don’t tell me,” I said. “I don’t even want to know.”

  “But you will go and talk to George?”

  I’d been planning to go to the dog show myself. Not to show Eve, of course; with Aunt Peg judging, we were ineligible. But I’d hoped to hook up with Sam and spend the day spectating, watching some of the other interesting breeds we never got a chance to see when we were busy exhibiting.

  On the other hand, as I’d pointed out to Peg, the show was not that far away. With luck, I could see George Saturday morning and still be in northern New Jersey by early afternoon.

  “I guess I can,” I said. “Davey will be with Bob. He’s going to have a riding lesson on Willow. Do you happen to have George’s phone number? I’ll call and see if I can set something up.”

  Of course she did. Peg was nothing if not always prepared. Boy Scouts could learn volumes by following my aunt around. She read me the number, and I jotted it down.

  “There’s something else I wanted to talk to you about,” I said. “A couple of strange things have been happening around here.”

  “Strange?” Her voice perked up. Aunt Peg likes strange. “Like what?”

  I explained about the lights being on when I got home from the dog show. I told her about Jill Prescott, who apparently had no intention of giving up in her quest to make both of us famous. Lastly, I related the adventure I’d had the night before.

  Somehow, laying out the bare facts in the light of day made them seem a good deal less threatening than they had at the time. Frightened as I’d been in the middle of the night, it was hard to recapture that emotion in the retelling.

  Even Aunt Peg, who loves a good spooky story, was singularly unimpressed. “It sounds to me like you need a good electrician. How old is that house anyway? Maybe your wiring has begun to go.”

  “It was built in the fifties, but I don’t think the wiring’s the problem. And I don’t need an electrician to tell me when my back door’s unlocked.”

  “You said yourself you might have been responsible for that oversight,” Aunt Peg pointed out. “And as for Jill Prescott, if she’s bothering you, why don’t you just tell her to get lost?”

  “I have, several times. She doesn’t pay any attention.”

  Aunt Peg harrumphed. When she says something, people sit up and take notice. It’s hard for her to understand that that’s a gift not all of us share.

  “Don’t worry,” she said briskly. “Sooner or later, Jill will simply get bored with the game she’s playing and give up. In the meantime, Dox’s dilemma needs to take precedence.”

  You can see why it’s a good thing my aunt never had children.

  “How is the puppy doing, by the way? Is he fitting in well?”

  “Just fine.” Dox wasn’t the only one under the table. Actually all three dogs were sacked out on the floor around me. The little Dachshund was curled in a small ball, the curve of his back nestled against Faith’s long legs. “The Poodles have accepted him like a long lost brother.”

  “Excellent. You will let me know how things turn out, won’t you?”

  Certainly, Herr Generale. Her wish was my command.

  Saturday morning, I awoke to the sound of rain lashing against the side of the house. I’d left my bedroom window open a crack, and the sheer curtains billowed inward, propel
led by the force of a gusting wind. Around here, April is one of those months where you hope for the best but often end up admitting that it really isn’t spring just yet. Though the dog show was being held indoors, I imagined that Davey’s plans for the day had probably been placed on hold.

  I was due at George Firth’s condominium in Norwalk at ten. We’d spoken briefly on the phone, and I’d explained only that I needed some further information regarding his donation to the benefit. I could take Davey with me if I had to, but first I needed to confirm my son’s arrangements—or lack thereof—with Bob. Before I got a chance to call my ex-husband, however, he surprised me by showing up.

  “What are you doing here?” I asked as he took off his jacket and shook it out, splattering a spray of raindrops around the hallway.

  “Picking up Davey. That was the plan, right?”

  “It was. But I thought he was going to have a riding lesson. Surely nobody rides in weather like this.”

  “No, but Pam said to go ahead and bring him over to the farm, anyway. She says there are plenty of other things he can learn to do to care for his pony. Who knows?” Bob grinned. “Maybe she’ll let him muck a few stalls.”

  With Davey’s schedule back in place, my life became a little less complicated. I told Bob I’d stop by and pick Davey up after the show and explained to the dogs that they were going to be in for a tough day as I couldn’t take all three of them to either George’s condo or the dog show.

  Faith looked resigned. Eve did her best to make me feel guilty about the less than perfect arrangement. Dox didn’t have a clue. He was just happy to get the biscuit I gave him when I locked him in his crate. Ah, the innocence of youth.

  In contrast to his ex-wife, whose fortunes seemed to have declined with the divorce, George Firth was obviously doing just fine. His careful directions led me to an upscale condominium cluster down by the shore in Norwalk. A guard at the front gate called to check whether I was expected, then waved me in.

  The buildings were white stucco, clean and streamlined in appearance. None were more than three stories high, and they wrapped around a colorful harbor, offering views out onto the Long Island Sound. Even this early in the year several boats were already out of storage and bobbing in their moorings as the Sound rose and fell, whipped by the driving rain. On a sunny day, the vista must have been magnificent.