Death at the Dog Show

by Grace York

  Death at the Dog Show

  Grace York

  Copyright © 2019 by Grace York

  All rights reserved

  This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organisations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

  For more information about the author, including other books in the series, please go to graceyorkauthor.com

  Cover design by James, GoOnWrite.com

  Edited by Phoenix Editing, phoenixeditingandproofreading.com

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Note from the Author

  1

  It took less than a minute to descend into chaos.

  When Ebony Weir, director of the Riverwood Dog Club and organiser of the Riverwood and Getaway Bay Annual Dog Show decided to 'mix things up a little' at this year's show, she was the only one who didn't foresee problems.

  Ebony's idea of mixing things up was to award the prizes for Best in Group at the gala dinner on Saturday evening, rather than directly after judging on Saturday afternoon.

  The way Addison had heard it, Ebony was trying to repair the rifts that had formed between a few of the regular contestants and one of the judges. Her big plan was to get everyone together over a meal and a glass of wine or two, sort it all out, and finish with the presentation. Then they could go into the judging of Best in Show on Sunday with everyone getting along just fine.

  Except that was never going to happen, according to Hazel Henshaw and Mrs Jones, Addison's two key informants when it came to local matters.

  Hazel, who also happened to be good friends with Ebony Weir, had tried talking the dog show director out of the idea.

  "You can't present the group trophies to the winners without the dogs there," Hazel had said.

  "Then we'll have the dinner outside," said Ebony with a shrug. "The dogs can come."

  It proved a fatal mistake.

  Everything was fine at first. Owners arrived with their prized possessions on leashes, all immaculately groomed for the evening. Each table had place settings for six humans, and bowls set out next to the table for up to four dogs. Everyone was very well behaved.

  Unfortunately, while the wine and beer flowed freely before the presentation, there was an issue with the food. The meals were supposed to be served with treats on the side to be given to dogs by their owners, but the treats had been misplaced. Rather than sending out the people food without the dog treats, Ebony held the meals back until after the presentations. The result was a number of inebriated humans in charge of a lot of over-excited dogs in the middle of the town square.

  The first dog escaped right after the last group winner was announced. An enthusiastic male German Shepherd, who clearly didn't care that he'd been pipped at the post in the working dog group, decided to get up close and personal with a female German Shepherd three tables over. Unfortunately, his owner had tied his leash around the table leg while she went off in search of more wine, so the dog took the table and all of its contents with him on his amorous quest.

  The resulting crash of glasses and bottles set them all off. Owners leapt to avoid spilled drinks, pulling their dogs away from the broken glass. Some weren't quick enough to grab their charges, and more tables toppled. A few dogs got loose and enjoyed their new-found freedom by rampaging through the flower beds lining the town square.

  It was a disaster.

  Addison and her table enjoyed every minute of it.

  "I'm glad Charlie isn't here," said Addison, holding her wine glass out of harm's way. She was there with Mrs Jones and her dog Bella, who'd just taken out the top prize for the toy dog group. Hazel was with them, as well as Juliet and Josie Porter, Getaway Bay's vet and dog groomer. The five women had leapt from their seats as soon as the chaos began, and were now standing back watching Ebony and her army of volunteers trying to get things under control.

  "Do you think we should help?" asked Hazel.

  "We'd just be in the way," said Juliet.

  Her twin sister nodded. "Yes. I vote for keeping out of the way now, and helping fix things later. Like tomorrow." Josie bent and gave Bella a pat on the head. "You're a good girl, aren't you? Not interested in getting in the middle of all that."

  "Bella's too smart for that," said Addison. "Besides, most of those dogs are three times her size. She'd get trampled."

  Mrs Jones said nothing, but Addison noticed the old lady's tight grip on Bella's leash.

  "Who's that?" Addison asked. She pointed to a young woman wearing a volunteer's t-shirt who didn't seem to be doing much to help.

  "Her name's Lucy," said Mrs Jones. "She's the one who's supposed to be looking after the contestants."

  "Supposed to be?" said Hazel.

  "That's the rumour," said Mrs Jones. "The lass hasn't come near me and Bella, though, save for one time to tell me I was standing in the wrong place."

  "She also looks after the judges," said Josie. "I think she's been spending most of her time with them."

  "With one of us," Juliet corrected. "That Perry Abbott is a piece of work. He's been monopolising her time completely. Ted and I have hardly got a look in."

  The dog show was usually held in Riverwood, but this year the Riverwood community centre was in the middle of refurbishments and Ed Mathieson, Getaway Bay's local elected councillor, had suggested the show move to the bay. The town square was the perfect venue, he'd argued, and the Riverwood Dog Club, after much deliberation, had agreed.

  As a nod to the locals, Riverwood had also agreed to let the small Getaway Bay dog club appoint one of the three judges for the event. They'd chosen Juliet, who had completed all the training just a week before her first official day of judging today. She'd been nervous, but she'd done well, Addison thought. At least she'd seemed to give every dog fair consideration, according to Addison's very limited knowledge of dog show competitions.

  By all accounts, the town had been delighted to host the show this year. Planting of the spring flowers had been brought forward so the square was looking its best for the event, which attracted dog owners from up to four hours away.

  It had looked lovely, too. People had commented all day on how nice the venue was, and how convenient to have it in the middle of town. They'd even warmed to the idea of having the dinner in the square.

  Looking around at the state of the square now though, not to mention the dogs covered in dirt from the flower beds, Addison couldn't help but think this was going to be the one and only time the dogs would be invited to the gala dinner.

  "Do you think we're going to get fed?" asked Mrs Jones. "I'm starving."

  "I wouldn't bet on it," said Addison. She counted at least six tables upended. "They've finished the last of the presentations for the night, haven't they?"

  "Yes," said Josie. "The working dog group was last, that went to Bailey the Border Collie."

  Addison checked her watch. It was almost eight o'clock. No wonder t
hey were all hungry. "Let's go back to my place," she suggested. "I'll throw something together for us."

  There were murmurs of agreement all around. Hazel said she had half a sponge cake leftover at the café she'd bring for dessert. They were about to head for their cars when a piercing scream stopped everyone in their tracks.

  All eyes turned to the table at the top of the square, near the temporary stage that had been set up for the evening. Even the dogs stopped chasing each other.

  The first thing Addison saw was a pair of feet sticking out from behind the table. She raced forward, thinking someone had been knocked over by one of the dogs. But when she got there, she knew it was worse than that.

  Far worse.

  She was looking at a body.

  2

  "It's Perry Abbott!" Juliet declared, arriving by Addison's side a moment later. Josie and Hazel followed, and a crowd quickly gathered around them.

  "Somebody call an ambulance," said Addison. Hazel pulled a mobile phone out of her pocket and stepped away to make the call.

  "What happened?" came another voice. Addison looked up to see Lucy McGregor, the volunteer they'd been speaking about moments earlier, leaning over the body. "Is he dead?" she asked.

  Addison knelt beside Perry and checked for a pulse, but she could tell from the man's face he was clearly gone.

  "Is he dead?"

  It was a different voice this time. Addison looked up to find the ghost-white face of the woman who'd screamed, staring at her.

  Addison blocked out the chaos around them and focused on the woman. "Are you his wife?"

  She nodded.

  "Yes, I'm sorry. He's dead."

  The woman continued to stare at Addison as tears brimmed and then spilled over. They dropped onto her husband's face. Only then did she close her eyes and give way to the grief.

  Josie and Juliet both put their arms around the woman and pulled her away.

  "Ambulance is on the way," said Hazel, returning to Addison's side. "What happened?"

  "Good question," said Addison. "Heart attack?"

  "Possibly. The ambos will know. We should get these people back."

  Addison nodded as she stood. She surveyed the crowd, noting they'd mostly managed to get their dogs under control and were now all staring at the dead man.

  "That didn't look like a heart attack," said a tall man standing nearby. It was Ed Mathieson.

  Addison turned to him. "What do you mean?"

  "My brother had a heart attack last year," Ed continued. "Didn't look like that. My brother grabbed at his chest, like this." He demonstrated by clutching the left side of his chest and staggering backwards. "This fellow seemed more like he was having a fit. You know, spasms and such. He arched his back, and his arms went all rigid." Ed demonstrated this, too. Addison found herself wondering whether he belonged to the local amateur dramatic society.

  "What happened next?" she asked.

  "He fell to the ground, and that's when Helen started screaming." Ed shook his head. "Didn't look like a heart attack."

  Addison took another look at the body. Perry Abbott's eyes were still open, his face blue. She turned to Hazel.

  "You'd better call Isaac."

  Detective Isaac Wilcox arrived ten minutes later, flanked by Getaway Bay's two uniformed officers, Senior Constable Kendall Short and Constable Ryan Diaz. Addison had never been more glad to see the three.

  "I tried to keep everyone back," she said as Isaac approached. "Most people were considerate." She frowned at Ed Mathieson. He'd spent the last ten minutes towering over the body and refusing to budge.

  "Where's the ambulance?" Isaac asked.

  "They're coming from Riverwood," said Hazel. "Should be here any minute."

  Isaac nodded to his troops, who got to work moving people back and into some sort of order. Short told them all to be patient and to hang around, as they'd need to be interviewed.

  "Do we know who this is?" asked Isaac.

  "Perry Abbott," said Addison. "He's one of the judges of the dog show."

  "He's the main judge," Juliet added. She'd come back to join the little group huddled over the body. Josie was still comforting Mrs Abbott.

  "What happened?" asked Isaac, crouching to take a closer look at the body.

  "Ask him," said Addison, pointing to Ed.

  Ed Mathieson stepped forward and described again the moments leading up to the judge's death.

  "Looked like he was having a fit," said Ed. He described the spasms and jerking movements, once again with demonstrations. When he'd finished Isaac asked Ed to go and join the others being interviewed by Short and Diaz.

  "That doesn't sound like a heart attack," said Juliet.

  "No," Isaac agreed. He turned to Addison. "Do you know if anyone left the area?"

  Addison shook her head. "I couldn't say. I was focused on trying to keep people away from him."

  Isaac looked around at the table nearest to them. It was one the rampaging dogs hadn't managed to knock over, so it was still covered with wine bottles and half-filled glasses.

  "Is this where he was sitting?" Isaac asked.

  "Yes," said Juliet. "With his wife, Helen. She's over there with my sister." Juliet pointed to a table about ten metres away, where Josie sat with Helen Abbott. Helen's back was to them, and Josie had her arm around the woman, but Addison could tell by her heaving shoulders she was still crying.

  "We'll get to her soon." Isaac called Short over. "Get Forensic Services down here as soon as possible," he said to the senior constable. "And make sure no-one touches anything on this table in the meantime."

  "Got it," said Short, then pulled out her mobile phone.

  Ebony, who'd finally managed to get all the dogs back under the control of their owners, tapped on Isaac's shoulder.

  "Is there anything I can do to help?" she asked.

  "You are?"

  "Ebony Weir. I'm running the dog show. I'm so sorry, this is all my fault."

  Isaac folded his arms across his chest. "How exactly are you responsible for this man's death?"

  "He's dead? Oh, no. I didn't mean that. I'm sorry. I don't know… I just meant it's my fault all the dogs got loose. This was a terrible idea. I hope he didn't have a heart attack because of it. Is there anything I can do?"

  "I'll need a list of everyone who attended this dinner," said Isaac. He pointed to the wine bottles on the table. "I assume you've got a license to sell alcohol?"

  "What?" Ebony shook her head. "Oh, no. Of course not. Everyone brought their own drinks. We just supplied the glasses, and the food. Well, we were just about to supply the food when… oh, I suppose it doesn't matter now." She looked down at the body, still lying uncovered on the cold ground. "Poor Perry," she said, her head tilted to one side. "Poor Helen."

  Addison heard a siren, and looked up to see the ambulance approaching. In spite of the siren and flashing lights, it wasn't moving fast. They'd obviously been informed the man was already dead.

  Isaac and Diaz cleared a path for the paramedics to get through the crowd. They spent a few minutes examining the body, then Addison was relieved when they finally covered him with a sheet. They had a quick conversation with Isaac, who nodded as he listened before sending Diaz off across the square in the direction of the police station.

  "What now?" Addison asked as Isaac came back to join them.

  "It wasn't a heart attack, was it?" said Juliet.

  Isaac shook his head. "No." He turned to Ebony. "I'm going to need that list tonight."

  She nodded and went off to the table behind the stage.

  Kendall Short ended her phone call. "Forensic Services are on their way," she said to Isaac.

  "Good. In the meantime, collect every camera and mobile phone from these people," he said.

  "That's not going to go down well," said Short.

  "I don't care. There are no security cameras in the square. We need to see what happened here. This table is near enough to the stage that if people were tak
ing photos of the presentations, we might get lucky. Heck, we might get really lucky and someone's taken a video."

  "Good call," said Short.

  "Diaz has gone to get crime scene tape. I asked him to pick up some post-it notes as well. You can use them to label the phones with the owner's name and access details. Anyone who won't give you permission to access their photos can come to the station tomorrow and explain why. Tell everyone you'll get their possessions back to them as soon as possible, but right now they're evidence."

  Short nodded and got to work.

  "Evidence in what?" asked Addison, although she felt she knew the answer already.

  "A murder," said Isaac. "Perry Abbott appears to have been poisoned."

  3

  Addison was up early on Sunday morning, even though it was usually the one morning she got to sleep in. Since arriving in Getaway Bay at the beginning of this year she'd been baking for the local café, run by her friend Hazel. Hazel didn't open on Sundays, though, so Addison got the morning off. But after the events of last night she'd barely slept at all.

  Charlie poked his nose through the dog door, then, on seeing Addison, climbed all the way through. He arched his back in a long stretch, then came over and reached up with both paws on her legs.

  "Good morning, little fella," said Addison, bending down to give him a pat. She scooped him up and spent a minute cuddling him before sending him back outside with a morning treat.

  After washing her hands, Addison switched the coffee machine on and set about putting the previous evening's few dishes away while it heated up. It had been so late last night by the time the police allowed everyone to leave, that the girls hadn't bothered coming over for dinner. No-one was hungry after seeing the lifeless body of Perry Abbott anyway.