Ruff Justice

by Laurien Berenson

  “She and Amanda are in the dog-sitting business together. A couple of times Amanda mentioned that if she ever wasn’t available when I needed her, she could get Tamryn to fill in.”

  I knew that Abby had spoken to her sister’s friends. But even if she’d already talked to Tamryn, I figured it wouldn’t hurt to cover some of the same ground twice. Tamryn might tell me something that she wouldn’t admit to Amanda’s twin.

  “Do you know how I can get in touch with her?” I asked.

  “No, sorry. I never actually used her services myself. And I always figured I could book her through Amanda if I needed to.”

  “Thanks anyway,” I said. “I’ll figure out a way to track her down.”

  I started to turn away but Lana reached out a hand and stopped me. “I’d appreciate it if you let me know what you find out.”

  “About what happened to Jasmine?”

  “No, I couldn’t care less about that woman. But now you have me worried about Amanda too. Let me know when she turns up, okay?”

  “I will,” I promised.

  * * *

  I’d spent so much time at the concessions that the Standards were almost ready to head over to the ring when I returned to the setup.

  “You cut that close,” Aunt Peg informed me as she hopped Coral down from her table. The puppy stood in place and shook out her coat. Bitches wouldn’t be judged until after dogs, but Aunt Peg would want to watch Davey’s class from ringside. “I was afraid you might miss the whole thing.”

  “No way,” I told Davey. Augie was already on the ground. I gave my son a quick hug for luck. “Got your comb? Got your armband? Got bait?”

  Davey lifted his arm to indicate that his number was already in place. A greyhound comb was hooked along the top of the cardboard square. His jacket pocket bulged with bait. And best of all, Augie looked absolutely gorgeous. We were good to go.

  Dog show competition isn’t for the faint of heart. There are just too many days when things don’t turn out the way you want them to. Sometimes the problems are beyond your control. The weather might be awful, or the ring too small to show off your dog properly. Sometimes the conditions are just right, and your dog has a bad day anyway. Or the judge plays politics. Or he judges the dogs fairly but simply prefers a different kind of Poodle than the one you’ve brought him.

  Over the extended period of time that Davey had been trying to finish Augie’s championship, it seemed as though the two of them had found a thousand different ways to lose. That one, narrow path that led to the coveted purple ribbon and the points that came with it had proven elusive many more times than not.

  Which was why when things finally went right—when Davey and Augie did all the same things they’d done numerous times before, but on this day everything fell into place—I could hardly believe that his turn had come at last.

  The Puppy Dog class went by in a flash. Almost before I knew it, Davey was leading Augie into the ring at the head of a long line of Standard Poodle Open Dogs. With so much at stake, I would have been quaking in my boots in his place. Not Davey. He looked like he had everything under control.

  Augie walked straight into a stacked position and held it. His head and tail were high, his gaze fastened firmly on the judge. Neither Davey nor the big Poodle even glanced back. Clearly they’d both put the previous day’s misadventure behind them.

  When Mrs. Abernathy made her first pass down the line, Davey cupped his hands around Augie’s head, gently lifting back his ears to allow the judge an unobstructed view of his handsome face. Mrs. Abernathy took a long look and permitted herself a small smile before she moved on.

  Thank you, Terry, I thought gratefully.

  Augie led the way the first time the Standard dogs were sent around the ring. He was first to be pulled when Mrs. Abernathy made her cut. And he was still at the head of the line when she pointed to her class winner.

  Kevin gave a small shriek. He clapped his hands with glee.

  “Not yet.” Gently I covered his small hands with my own. “Davey still has to win the next class.”

  But Davey was on a roll and he knew it. With a big smile, he accepted the blue ribbon from the judge, flashed Kev a jaunty thumbs-up from inside the ring, then walked Augie back into place at the head of the mat.

  A silver Puppy Dog came back in through the gate. His handler set up that previous class winner behind Augie. The judge stepped back to the middle of the ring and stared at her two contenders.

  When Mrs. Abernathy quickly sent the pair of Standard Poodles around the ring, I was holding my breath. Not Sam; he was grinning. He already knew what I hadn’t yet realized. The judge’s decision had already been made. Augie was so clearly the best that Mrs. Abernathy simply didn’t need to see anything more.

  With no further ado, she motioned Davey and Augie to the Winners marker at the side of the ring. Sam gave a loud whoop. Aunt Peg and Kevin started to clap. I just stood and stared. Several seconds passed before I was able to process what had happened right in front of me.

  Then there was only one thing I could do. “Way to go, Davey!” I yelled.

  Trust me, in polite dog show circles that is not done. I didn’t care one bit.

  Davey laughed, then averted his eyes. He was probably trying to pretend he wasn’t related to me.

  The judge ignored all the commotion outside her ring and handed Davey the purple ribbon. With it came Augie’s all-important second major. Now he had fourteen points toward his championship.

  Even though Augie wasn’t my dog, I suddenly felt as though a huge weight had been lifted from my shoulders. Davey and Augie just needed one more point. Surely that wouldn’t be too hard to accomplish.

  Coral’s Puppy Bitch class was next. Aunt Peg high-fived with Davey as they crossed paths near the in-gate. Davey was beaming with pride and satisfaction. Augie was prancing at his side. The Poodle knew that he had done well too.

  We paused our celebration just long enough to watch Coral place second in a class of four. Then while the Open Bitches were being judged, Sam and Davey made minor repairs to Augie’s coat. He would be needed back in the ring to compete for Best of Variety.

  A nice white bitch won the Open class and was awarded Winners Bitch. Crawford and another professional handler took their Standard specials into the ring. The Winners Bitch lined up behind them. Davey and Augie followed.

  While Mrs. Abernathy judged the two champions, Davey took out a squeaky toy and played catch with Augie at the end of the mat. Having already won the important prize, the pair could now relax and have fun.

  Crawford’s champion won the Variety. The Winners Bitch was Best of Opposite Sex. Augie was awarded Best of Winners. When the class was over, we remained at ringside to have a win picture taken with the judge.

  It was a wonderful day. We took our time and savored every minute.

  Chapter 12

  When we got back at the setup, we were all in high spirits.

  Crawford had won the variety in Minis and Standards and had put points on both of his Toys. Bertie had won the breed with her Bearded Collie and scored a Sheltie puppy’s first point with its happy owner standing ringside. And of course there was Augie’s excellent major win.

  In fact, the only one in the vicinity who hadn’t won something was Aunt Peg. After the way she’d behaved the week before, we all figured she deserved that.

  “It won’t be long now,” Davey whispered in Augie’s ear as he jumped the Poodle up on his table. “Then off comes that coat.” He mimed the movement of a clipper. “Zip, zip, zip!”

  “I heard that,” Aunt Peg announced. “Don’t you dare go jinxing that dog. He still needs one more win.”

  “Just a little one,” I said.

  “Sometimes the little ones are the toughest to get.”

  Now she was just being contrary. So I changed the subject. “Do you know a woman named Tamryn Klein?”

  Aunt Peg turned the name over in her mind. “I don’t believe so. Should I?”
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  “I thought you might have met her through Amanda Burke. Lana Spenser told me that she and Amanda were in the dog-sitting business together. When Amanda was overbooked, Tamryn filled in for her. I was hoping you’d know how to get in touch with her.”

  “No.” Aunt Peg frowned. She hated not having a handy answer to every question. “I have no idea.”

  “I do,” Daisy spoke up from Bertie’s setup.

  We all turned and looked at her.

  “You do?” I asked.

  “Sure. Tamryn lives in Norwalk. She and I went to school together. I think she’s still living with her parents. And is pretty desperate to move out. Last I heard, she was picking up odd jobs from Jasmine Crane. You know, that lady who . . .” Daisy glanced down at Kev and Josh. Her voice trailed away uncertainly.

  “Yes, we know about Jasmine,” I told her. “What kind of work was Tamryn doing for her?”

  Daisy shrugged. “I hear stuff about Tamryn sometimes, but it’s not like we’re friends. She’s a year or two older than me. Plus, she’s not . . .” She paused, as if debating whether or not to continue.

  “Not what?” Bertie prodded.

  “Tamryn’s not a very nice person. Like, you probably shouldn’t leave her in charge of your pets while you’re out of town or anything.”

  “You don’t have to worry about that,” I said. “I only want to ask her a few questions. Do you happen to have her phone number?”

  Daisy looked relieved. “No, but I can give you her parents’ address. Does that help?”

  “That would be great,” I said. “Thank you.”

  When I finished tucking that information away, I decided to take one last walk down the row of concessions while Sam and Davey were working on Augie. The proprietors of the first three booths I visited didn’t have much to say. But at my fourth stop, I hit pay dirt.

  Mary and Edgar Daltry were an elderly couple from Brooklyn who sold canine-themed jewelry. Their extensive selection of necklaces, bracelets, and rings showcased the charms of virtually every AKC breed. Some of the pieces were costume jewelry, affordable for most budgets. But others were made of gold and platinum and set with real gemstones.

  As soon as I mentioned Jasmine Crane’s name, Mary Daltry scowled. “That woman,” she spat.

  “What about her?”

  “I don’t want to wish ill on anybody. But her?” She made the word sound like a curse. “What happened to her—she had it coming.”

  That got my attention in a hurry.

  “It sounds like you must have known Jasmine pretty well.”

  “Me? No. Jasmine wasn’t interested in me. Edgar was the one she set her sights on.” Mary nodded toward the other side of the booth where her husband was showing rings to a customer. Then she drew me behind the back wall of the booth where we could talk in private. “Jasmine Crane was a piece of work. That woman knew all about how to wind men around her little finger. She was full of brilliant ideas, except that the only one they ever worked out for was her.”

  “Like what?” I asked curiously.

  “You know what Jasmine looked like, right?”

  I nodded.

  “She had that whole sultry, sexy thing going on. Men thought she was exotic, and she used that to her advantage.”

  This story was beginning to sound familiar. I wondered if the Daltrys had also had something of value disappear from their booth while they weren’t looking.

  “Jasmine used to come around at the shows and sweet talk my Edgar. She convinced him to let her ‘model’ some of our better pieces while she was selling artwork at her booth. She told Edgar that when customers commented on how pretty she looked, she would send them over here to look at our jewelry. Edgar thought it was a terrific idea. He was sure that having her help us like that would be great for business.”

  I was pretty sure I knew the answer. But I had to ask anyway. “And was it?”

  “It was good for Jasmine, all right. But not so much for Edgar and me.”

  “How come?”

  “The first month or so, not much happened. Jasmine would stop by and pick out a brooch or a necklace that matched her outfit. She liked the flashy stuff. And I’m no dummy. I made sure to steer her toward the pieces made of silver and colored stones. Later, Jasmine would come flitting back. She’d smile and coo and ask Edgar if he liked all the customers she’d sent.”

  Mary stopped and frowned. “Thing is, if there were any extra shoppers coming our way, I never noticed them. But Edgar seemed happy and I figured what’s the harm? Little did I know.”

  I could see inside the booth from where we were standing. Edgar had finished waiting on his customer. Now he appeared to be looking around for Mary. He was probably wondering where she’d gone.

  Mary must have seen him too because she beckoned me closer and lowered her voice. “Jasmine Crane was a tease and a flirt. She used her feminine wiles to get things she wouldn’t have been able to afford otherwise. Edgar’s usually a pretty smart cookie, but he couldn’t see through her act. More’s the pity.”

  “What did she do?” I asked. I was really hoping that Mary would get to the point of her story before her husband came and interrupted us.

  “One morning when Jasmine came around, I wasn’t here. She got Edgar to let her try on a diamond brooch. Not cubic zirconia, the real stuff. Edgar told me that it looked so pretty on her, he didn’t have the heart to tell her that the piece wasn’t supposed to come out of the showcase.”

  “Men.” I just sighed.

  Mary nodded unhappily.

  “Of course when I got back, I noticed right away that the brooch wasn’t where it was supposed to be. I was livid when Edgar told me what he’d done. But he just told me to calm down, that it would be back in our hands soon enough.”

  “But it wasn’t, was it?”

  “Not even close. Edgar and I never saw that diamond brooch again. Later that afternoon, Jasmine comes by looking all teary-like. She says the clasp was loose, and it must have come open at some point during the day. She doesn’t have the brooch and she doesn’t know where it is.”

  “That’s terrible,” I said.

  “What it is, is outright thievery,” Mary snapped. “Especially since I knew darn well that the clasp had been fine that morning, before Jasmine got hold of it.”

  “Did she offer to pay for your missing jewelry?”

  “You gotta be kidding me.” She looked at me like she thought I was crazy. “Jasmine just mumbled something about how she was sure we must be well insured, and she was sorry for the inconvenience. I’ll tell you what. Only an idiot would believe a story like that. I wanted to march right over to Jasmine’s booth and tear that place apart, looking for what was mine.”

  “I take it you didn’t actually do that,” I said with a half smile.

  “No. But only because Edgar wouldn’t let me. Speaking of idiots.” Mary grimaced. “He forgave her. He told her it wasn’t her fault, that he should have checked the clasp himself before letting her put it on.”

  “It sounds as though you’re still angry,” I said.

  “You got that right,” Mary shot right back. “Unless of course you’re asking me if I was mad enough to go and strangle Jasmine with one of her own leashes.”

  “Were you?”

  The question made her laugh. Mary had wispy white hair and barely came up to my chin. “Maybe I would have if I coulda figured out how to reach up that high.”

  Point taken.

  “Now Edgar, that damn fool is another story.” Mary slipped me a wink. “You ever hear he’s come to grief, you’d better come around and check back with me.”

  “I’ll do that,” I agreed. “You’re not the first person I’ve spoken with who had a problem with Jasmine. It doesn’t seem as though she had many friends in the dog show community.”

  Mary nodded. She wasn’t surprised. “Jasmine was the kind of person you liked a whole lot better before you got to know her. You want my advice?”

  “Sure.”<
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  “You want to figure out who killed that woman, look for someone who knew what she was really like. Because in that crowd, I bet she had enemies all over the place.”

  I spent the walk back to the setup pondering what Mary had told me. But once there, I put her caustic words out of my mind. The mood there was still jubilant, and deservedly so. Augie had finally won his second major. Today was a day for celebration.

  I cupped Augie’s muzzle in my palm and kissed him on the nose. “What a superior Poodle you are. You were such a good boy.”

  “What about me?” Davey complained good naturedly. “I did all the work.”

  So I hugged Davey. Then I hugged Bertie. I gave Sam a big kiss and Kevin a little one.

  Never one to miss a festive occasion, Terry grabbed me, spun me around, and kissed my nose. To Crawford’s utter bemusement, I bussed him on the lips. Aunt Peg watched my exuberant display with her eyes narrowed and her hands propped on her hips.

  I didn’t even try to kiss her.

  “Apparently it’s a good thing your son doesn’t win majors more often,” she said drily.

  I was tempted to stick out my tongue, but at the last minute I remembered I was too mature for behavior like that. So instead I gave Aunt Peg a big smile.

  “Just for ten minutes, let me be happy in peace,” I told her.

  “Amen to that,” said Terry.

  * * *

  Monday morning, it was time to go back to work.

  Faith was much more enthusiastic about that than I was. Having remained home for most of the weekend, she was delighted to run outside and jump in the car. Faith didn’t even care where I was going as long as she was coming too. That Poodle was pretty good at keeping a schedule, however. She probably knew it was the start of a new week.

  Our first student of the day was Francesca Della Cimino. She and I were scheduled to spend forty-five minutes together on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday mornings. This would be the fourth session I’d had with the sixth-grader.

  So far, I was still baffled. Francesca was undeniably smart. And though the Howard Academy curriculum was tougher than most, I was quite sure it shouldn’t have been beyond her abilities. Which left me wondering why a girl who had started the semester with such promise, was now inexplicably falling behind in her classes.