“Hello, Detective,” I said as I could feel the sweat starting to form on my forehead. What if she noticed that I was under the name Sheldon Holmes? What had Shelby gotten me into? “I didn’t realize you were going to be here.”
A smile started to spread on her lips. “Yes, well, I wanted to get a front-row seat to Holmes’s big reveal.” She said those last two words with a smirk. She was here because she wanted to see Shelby fail. It never even occurred to me that there was a chance she wouldn’t find Daisy.
“Watson.” Emerson approached me. “Shelby asked me yesterday afternoon before she left to give you this.” He handed me an envelope with my name written on it.
It didn’t make any sense. Shelby had seen me after she gave him that letter. She had even given me her own letter with instructions last night.
I tore open the envelope, assuming that it was the same list I already had. She was probably simply covering her bases.
Oh, how wrong I was.
Dear Watson,
Thank you for bringing Sir Arthur safely to the hotel. I had every faith you’d be able to complete your task successfully. I must admit that I haven’t been fully up front with you on what I require of you today. I will need you to be Sir Arthur’s handler at the dog show. Simply make sure he has seen at least one dog compete and he’ll know what to do. He’s a very intuitive dog and he should be able to guide you expertly.
Shelby Holmes
She tricked me! There was no way I would’ve come here if I knew I had to be a dog handler. I was going to make such a fool out of myself. I glanced back down at the letter and noticed a postscript on the back.
PS—While I didn’t want to deceive you, I knew this omission on my part was the only way to get you to do it. You won’t make a fool out of yourself, as I’ve asked Mr. Emerson to assist you.
I looked around the hotel lobby, positive that I was going to see Shelby laughing. This had to be a prank. How did she know that was going to be my response?
Although of course she’d know how I’d react. This was her plan all along. She knew before she ran into me yesterday that she was going to have me do this. She knew when we were tailing Zane how everything was going to play out.
“Come along.” Emerson gestured with his hand for me to follow him.
“Where are we going?” I asked, my head still spinning with the fact that I had to go onstage with Sir Arthur. Or at least I thought that was what I had to do, since I’d never even seen a dog show before.
I knew nothing.
And Shelby was throwing me to the hounds.
Emerson began to explain. “Since Sir Arthur has never shown before, he has to compete in the English bulldog preliminaries. If he places in the top two, then he goes to the Non-Sporting competition, much to Shelby’s objections. She felt her dog was a rather sporting animal, but I don’t make up the designations. This is where he’ll compete against other dogs for a spot in Best in Show. If Shelby comes through, Daisy will compete right after Sporting in the Toy competition.” He checked his watch. “She has a little over an hour to get here. You, on the other hand, have ten minutes.”
WHAT!
Before I could really understand what was happening, Emerson led me up the escalators as he placed an armband with a number on my left arm.
He was telling me what to do during the show, but all I could think of was, I have to show Sir Arthur.
Or, as Shelby made it clear, it was more that Sir Arthur would be showing me.
I was getting used to playing second fiddle to Shelby, but couldn’t I even get top billing over a dog?
CHAPTER
28
“Now, pay attention.”
While I said that to Sir Arthur as we watched the competition from behind a heavy blue curtain backstage, I was also talking to myself.
It seemed pretty straightforward. I had to jog around an oval once with Sir Arthur and the other dogs, then a judge would check him out before we had to run back and forth the length of the floor.
How hard could it be?
But then again, there were probably around two hundred people seated on the outskirts of the oval course, including Detective Lestrade. Plus, Sir Arthur wasn’t prepared. I had no idea the last time he’d been groomed. The judges were really going over the dogs: feeling their coat from every angle, examining their ears and tail, pulling apart their lips to check their teeth and gums, and lifting their feet.
Emerson took out a brush and worked through Sir Arthur’s coat. “He’s a fairly clean dog,” he remarked. “I usually make it a policy not to work with English bulldogs. They are tough to train, an extremely stubborn creature.”
Hmmm. Remind you of anybody?
He took out a cloth and started cleaning Sir Arthur’s folds.
Emerson sighed. “If I had more time with him, I could guarantee that he’d at least place. Why did Shelby want you to do this?”
To humiliate me was the first thought that popped into my head.
But she had wanted access to the backstage area where all of Daisy’s competition was. That was why she had registered Sir Arthur.
Yet Shelby was nowhere to be found, and it didn’t appear Daisy was here, either.
“Fortunately, handlers are supposed to be invisible,” Emerson said as he looked down at my shorts and T-shirt with a disapproving shake of his head. “Are you ready?”
Yeah, Sir Arthur was the only one who was going to be judged.
Had I been clued into the fact that I’d be showing off a dog, I would’ve dressed better. Most of the other handlers had suits on. All the guys had ties. They were also at least twenty years older than me. No, I wasn’t ready, but it didn’t really matter, did it?
“One last adjustment,” Emerson said as he pulled out a black-and-white-striped tie and adjusted it around my neck. “Shelby insisted.”
Of course she did.
I stood in line and watched with a lump in my throat as the woman in front of me started running with her bulldog like wolves were chasing them.
I knelt next to Sir Arthur. “Okay, I’ll try not to trip if you can promise not to bark or bite. You only have to look cute.”
Sir Arthur replied by licking my face.
“Ah, maybe you aren’t supposed to lick, either?”
The chief steward motioned for us to go.
“Here goes nothing,” I said under my breath, then proceeded to trip over the carpet. Luckily, it was before we were officially on the course, but Sir Arthur looked up, and I swore he rolled his eyes at me.
We both took off and ran around the circle. I’d been told this was part of the agility test, to see the dog’s willingness to work with the handler. We then stopped in the designated spot, where the judge approached us and had me turn Sir Arthur a few times on his leash. Well, I really didn’t do anything, as Sir Arthur turned on his own.
The judge, an older woman with a fierce stare, pointed to the place where I was to stop with Sir Arthur. I mimicked the other handlers and knelt beside him. Everybody else had treats or a toy to keep the dog’s head level while they were being judged. Emerson had told me that he mentioned this to Shelby, who objected to the treats, as it was “demoralizing” for Sir Arthur to be bribed.
“How old is he?” the judge asked as she knelt down next to Sir Arthur.
“Ah, he, ah …” I stuttered. I had no idea how old Sir Arthur was. You’d think with all that preparation, Shelby would’ve told me that one simple fact.
Sure, how dare Sir Arthur be the one to be demoralized, while I was doing fine on my own.
The judge looked up at me while I stood there with my mouth wide open. She must’ve seen the terror in my eyes, and returned to poking and prodding Sir Arthur. Sir Arthur didn’t seem bothered by it all, while I could hardly breathe. Before I knew it, she was on to the dog next to us.
We were then instructed to run around one more time as a group. I kept looking at my feet, willing them to keep up and not trip. I doubt I was out there for
more than five minutes, but it felt like an eternity.
The judge instructed us to go back to our designated posts, where the dogs were given one final look. She walked around a few times, being very careful and deliberate with her ranking.
I stared her down, almost willing her to place Sir Arthur.
What was I thinking? If he placed, I had to do this again.
No way. Shelby would be here any minute. She’d promised the Lacys. She wouldn’t do that to me. Well, she wouldn’t do that to me again.
The judge picked a black-and-white bulldog for first place. Then I could hardly believe it as she walked over to me. I’m sure I must’ve looked like I was in shock as she declared us, well, Sir Arthur as second place. There was an extra spring in my step as we did a celebratory lap.
“We did it!” I dropped down to my knees and hugged Sir Arthur.
Now I got why people did things like this—it was kind of like playing a sport. You got a total rush of adrenaline.
Sir Arthur and I jogged backstage, where we were greeted with congratulations from fellow competitors. The Lacys gave us a polite round of applause, although their mood had gotten worse since we were less than thirty minutes away from the Toy competition.
“Thanks,” I replied, feeling guilty for showing off a dog that wasn’t even my own.
“Yes, Sheldon, that was great,” Lestrade said with a raised eyebrow.
The joy I felt was replaced with panic. Mom was going to kill me when I called her from jail. Because that was what happened when you lie about your name, right?
Before I could stammer out a reply, Tamra’s eyes darted behind me, and she let out a joyous scream. “DAISY!”
We all turned around and saw Shelby walking triumphantly with a King Charles dog on a leash. But …
Even though Tamra was on the floor hugging the dog, whose tail was wagging so fast I expected it to fly off, the dog wasn’t Daisy. It was the dog we saw at Pawesome Pooches. The one that was a different color.
It couldn’t have been Daisy.
Could it?
CHAPTER
29
“What on earth?” Mrs. Lacy ran over to Tamra and the dog.
“You found her!” Tamra had her arms around the pooch. “I’m so sorry I doubted you.”
Shelby shrugged. “Wouldn’t be the first time I was underestimated.” She was looking at Detective Lestrade when she spoke.
“But …” Mrs. Lacy looked between the dog and Shelby. “Is that Daisy?”
Thank you! I thought, glad not to be the only one who was confused.
“It is,” Shelby replied confidently. “She’d been disguised.”
All the Lacys were now gathered around the reunion. I stole a glance at Zareen, whose skin had turned to an ashen color.
No. She looked guilty. It was Zareen after all. I couldn’t believe that I had fallen for her lies. I let her convince me she was innocent, even though she had the biggest motive of all.
“Please explain to me how you found her and who did this,” Mrs. Lacy demanded.
“Of course.” Shelby had a glow about her. I think this was her favorite part: when she got to fill us in on how brilliant she was (and how clueless the rest of us were). “Unless you’d like to.”
We all looked around wondering who she was addressing. Obviously the guilty person would be able to explain exactly how they pulled it off, but WHO DID IT?
I looked at Zareen, who appeared utterly dumbfounded. But then there was a flash right next to her as Zane bolted toward the exit. Shelby stuck out her leg swiftly to trip him, as if she’d been anticipating it. Zane went sliding on the marble floor. Shelby grabbed his hand, and she put a handcuff around his wrist, then placed the other around hers.
Of course she had handcuffs. Of course she did.
“Zane?” Mr. Lacy said in a scolding voice. “What did you do?”
I felt sick as I waited for Zane to reply. There had to have been some mistake.
Zane, who had been so cool, nearly stoic, began to pout like a small kid. “I did it because I’m so sick of Zareen being treated like a second-class citizen in her own home. All you guys do is talk about Tamra and that stupid dog. Nothing Zareen does is good enough. I thought if Daisy skipped a show, we could return to normal.”
Wait. My mind started to remember Zane saying something similar to me yesterday. But I disregarded it. Because I didn’t want to believe that he could’ve possibly been responsible.
But he was.
“Zane”—Zareen sat on the floor next to her twin—“you did that for me?” She looked touched, before she hit him on the head. “You knew how much I was being blamed for it and you didn’t say anything! How could you?”
“I’m sorry! I know! I didn’t know what to do! I was planning on getting Daisy this afternoon and bringing her home. I was going to say she was wandering around or something. I didn’t think it was going to be such a big deal. Why did you have to call them?”
To my horror, Zane pointed to Shelby and me with malice.
So my worst fear was confirmed: I was going to be exiled by association. Zane, who I thought was my friend, turned out to be a dognapper.
Mr. Lacy stood over his son. “We need to go have a talk.” He looked down at Shelby, who seemed thrilled to be in the middle of a family breakdown. “Shelby, would you mind uncuffing my son so he and I can have a talk.”
Shelby reluctantly took out the key and freed Zane.
Mr. Lacy took him by the collar and led him off.
Mrs. Lacy kept looking between everybody. “Okay, I know why Zane did it, but how?”
“I’m so glad you asked!” Shelby jumped up from the floor. “Unless you’d like to fill everybody in, Detective?”
Shelby locked eyes with Lestrade. Both of them had their arms folded. It seemed like years before Lestrade sighed heavily and walked away, muttering under her breath.
“What an absolutely delightful day!” Shelby declared.
“But how?” Mrs. Lacy reminded Shelby that the rest of us were still clueless.
“Yes!” Shelby was beaming. “Zane’s plan was simple: take Daisy in the early morning and then stow her for a couple days at Pawesome Pooches. His first problem was ensuring that Daisy wouldn’t be recognized. He used blackberries to dye Daisy’s brown fur. I noticed the stain on his fingernails the other day, along with white dog hair on his shorts. I also had observed some of the dye in the corner of his bathtub when I took a closer look at the living quarters yesterday. Zane had never been in the store before, so he used a fake name to keep ‘Lucky’ there. What he didn’t plan on was that Zareen would sleepwalk the night of the crime. She broke the frame, which he cleaned up because he didn’t want her to be accused of taking Daisy. However, he missed a piece that was hidden under the bureau. He was able to escape with Daisy because he had put her in a large duffel bag to hide her from the cameras. Upon inspecting the footage, I found it odd that Zane had an extremely large bag that was moving. While he went under the guise that he was playing the basketball, he had flip-flops on. Watson had informed me not only that Zane had missed a game with his friends this week, but also that it would be quite difficult to play in flip-flops. Zane was the one who brought the food to Daisy, and I was able to confirm that he was supposed to pick her up later today. So he did plan on returning her. A simple case of sibling rivalry.”
Mrs. Lacy stood there with her mouth open. “But kids can’t board a dog without an adult.”
I glanced at Emerson, knowing that this was probably his role in all this.
“Yes.” Shelby nodded. “It needs to be someone at least eighteen years old and with a credit card. Watson?”
Why was she looking at me? I wasn’t eighteen. I didn’t have a credit card.
She continued, “It was the one piece that I couldn’t quite figure out until I spoke to Watson yesterday afternoon.”
Me? How did I help her out if I had no idea what she was talking about?
“Think, Wats
on,” Shelby encouraged me. “You gave me quite the detailed description of your game of the basketball yesterday, which was how I knew Zane missed a game sometime this week.”
I told her that? Then I remembered the trash-talking that happened when Zane missed a basket. I thought they were just teasing each other. I didn’t realize it was a clue.
Plus, I didn’t think Shelby was even listening to me when I reenacted all the teasing. What else did I tell her? What else did I hear?
Flashes from yesterday started popping up in my head. A comment here and there. It all started to make sense.
“Corey!” I exclaimed. “He’s eighteen. He mentioned something about Zane buying him shoes.”
“Exactly,” Shelby said with pride. “He signed the dog in, gave them the papers, and put it on a credit card. Thank you, Watson.”
I felt like I was in a haze. All the evidence was placed in front of me, but I was too naive to see it. I didn’t want to believe that any of the Lacys were guilty, especially Zane.
Since I was part of the team that caught him, there’d be no way he’d want to be my friend now. He wouldn’t be able to trust me again after I got him in trouble.
Well, then maybe he shouldn’t have stolen a dog.
Still, it stung. I liked hanging with him and his friends yesterday. He was the only friend I had made since I got here. Well, I thought he was my only friend since I still didn’t know where things stood with Shelby.
Shelby seemed quite pleased with herself. “Oh, and, Mrs. Lacy, you should be aware that your son has a tell.”
“A what?” She looked like she was in shock.
“Whenever he lies, he puts his hands in his pockets. I noticed it the other day when I was interrogating him.”
Wait. So Shelby wasn’t flirting with Zane after all. She was asking him all those random questions because she was trying to see what he was lying about.
Yeah, that made more sense. Shelby didn’t seem like the type to be interested in guys. She didn’t want friends—there was no way she’d be interested in a boyfriend.
The Great Shelby Holmes Page 14
