by V. M. Burns
“I didn’t notice.”
I stared at him, hand on hip. “Really? You didn’t notice a tall, thin, redheaded bombshell with stunning blue eyes who flung her hair on your shoulder.” I demonstrated the fling.
“Not my type.”
“Really? What part exactly? Tall? Thin? Blue-eyed? Gorgeous? That’s not your type? Are you seriously going to tell me you prefer…what? Short, fat—”
He hovered his hand over my head. “I prefer about…yay tall, dark haired and dark-eyes.”
I suppressed a smiled. “Fat?”
He came even closer and put his arms around my waist. “I prefer curvaceous.” He leaned down close to my ear. “With a razor-sharp mind, a generous heart and…” His lips grazed my ear.
“And?” I breathed hard.
“And, I prefer a woman who is intelligent enough to recognize a poodle when she sees one.”
We kissed. After a few moments he repeated his question from earlier. “What did you think?”
“I think that was a good answer.”
His lips twitched. “I meant about her story.”
“She’s hiding something.”
He grinned. “Agreed.” He pulled me close. “Jealous?”
“Of course not,” I lied. “Should I be?”
He kissed me. “Absolutely not, but it would make me happy if you were.”
There was something in his eyes that told me he was telling the truth. He kissed me again and I forgot about Fiona Darling. When we separated, he said, “I’m going to be here for quite a while. I can get one of the patrol cars to take you home—”
“I’m sure Dixie and Beau will make sure I get back to my house safely.”
He nodded and started to speak, but the door opened. An older woman took a couple of steps inside but halted when she saw Red and I.
“Oh, I’m sorry. I—”
Red apologized and we both left.
He got stopped by one of the detectives, so I went in search of Dixie and Beau.
I spotted Jacob near one of the buffet tables with the other members of our dog class, B.J., Monica Jill and Dr. Morgan.
Bobbie Jean Thompson, B.J. to her friends, was a short, African American woman with dark skin and a big personality. “Girl, I knew you’d have the scoop. What’s that fine looking TBI man of yours got to say about this mess?”
“He said he’s going to be here awhile.”
“You know what I mean. Does he know who did it?” B.J. asked.
“Not yet, but he just found the poor man.”
B.J. shook her head. “Poor man my big toe. Archibald Lowry is one of the richest men in the state. They say when the government needs a loan, they call Archibald Lowry.”
“Did you know him?” I asked.
“Pshaw.” She snorted. “Archibald Lowry and I didn’t mix in the same social circles.” She stared down her nose at me and I laughed.
“I don’t think Archibald Lowry mixed in anybody’s social circle,” Monica Jill whispered. Monica Jill Nelson was tall and thin with long dark hair and dark eyes. She was my realtor and had helped me find the house I was currently renting and hoping to soon buy.
“I can’t believe someone was actually murdered.” Jacob took a sip of champagne. “The board of directors is going to freak out.”
“Did you call Linda Kay?” I asked.
Linda Kay Weyman was our boss. She was a kind-hearted woman who had gone to bat for me and convinced the board to allow the event to take place at the museum. I felt horrible thinking that doing a favor for me would cause her distress.
He nodded.
I sighed. “Maybe they’ll accept my resignation in lieu of Linda Kay’s head on a silver charger.”
“You’ve worked here long enough to know Linda Kay will never stand for that.” He blushed. “Bad choice of words.”
Linda Kay ran the museum. Even though she only had one leg, she was certainly a force to be reckoned with. A southern lady with style and gentility, she had a spine of steel. I’d place money on Linda Kay in any fight she undertook. However, I certainly didn’t intend for her to have to fight on my behalf. After all, Jacob was a permanent employee and I was merely a temp.
“Well, I don’t intend for Linda Kay to take on the board of directors on my behalf,” I said.
Jacob took another sip from his champagne. “She’s already working on damage control.”
“We can’t have you losing your job over a murder you had nothing to do with.” B.J. tossed back a glass of champagne. “I guess we’ll just need to make this right.”
I stared at her. “What are you talking about?”
“We’ll just have to solve the murder.” She looked at me. “And by we, I mean you.” She gave me another stare. “If we catch the murderer, then the board won’t be angry, and you keep your job.”
“I can’t find a murderer. Are you drunk?”
She grabbed another glass of champagne. “Not yet, but I’m working on it.”
“Working on what?” Dixie joined our group.
I stared at my friend. “B.J.’s lost her mind.”
“Honey, that’s not the issue. I lost that a long time ago.” She chugged back another glass of champagne. “This stuff is pretty good.”
“Don’t you dare get drunk and puke in a planter. We’ve already had one person do that tonight.”
“Ughh.” Jacob rolled his eyes and sipped his champagne. “I don’t even want to know.”
“I’m not drunk.” She smiled. “Not yet anyway. However, I could use a few more glasses of this bubbly liquid courage.”
“What are you all talking about?” Dixie asked.
“B.J. thinks I need to solve this murder.”
Monica Jill picked up a glass of champagne. “B.J.’s not the only one.”
“Et tu, Brute?”
“Et tu?” B.J. stared. “Was that some kind of sneeze?”
I chuckled. “It’s from Shakespeare. It’s what Julius Caesar said when he saw Brutus, the person he thought was his friend,” I looked pointedly at Monica Jill, “was involved in the plot to murder him. It means, You too, Brutus?”
Monica Jill nodded. “Yep, me too.”
I turned to Dixie. “They’re all crazy. Maybe there’s something in the champagne.” I stared in my glass.
“What’s so crazy about it?” Dixie looked at me. “It’s not like this is your first rodeo.”
I stared at her as though she’d lost her mind and then glanced at all of them. “I think you’ve all gone crazy.” I reached over and took each of their glasses of champagne which was a challenge while cuddling a poodle who was trying to drink from the fluted glasses.
Dixie took the poodle.
“Thank you.” I placed the fluted glasses down and turned back to my friends. “I’m not a detective and just because I got lucky a couple of times doesn’t mean I plan to quit my day job and become Nancy Drew.”
All three women and Jacob stared back at me.
Dixie turned to B.J. “In the words of Queen Gertrude from Hamlet, ‘The lady doth protest too much, methinks.’”
“Uh huh.” B.J. nodded. “Methinks so too.”
“Yep, ditto,” Monica Jill said.
I glanced at Jacob.
He raised an eyebrow. “Don’t even look in my direction.”
I picked up a glass of champagne from the table and downed it. This was going to be a challenge. “You’ve all lost your minds.”
Chapter 3
Dixie and Beau drove me home. It was late or rather early Saturday morning when the police got everyone’s names and addresses and allowed us to leave. However, I couldn’t complain since Red had only gone as my date, and he was still there working and probably would be for several more hours.
By the time I got home, Aggie was curled
up in a ball in the middle of my bed.
Aggie was the six-pound, black toy poodle I’d adopted before I left Indiana. My vet estimated her age at two years old. Surprisingly, she hadn’t woken when I arrived, so I was able to watch her unimpeded for a few minutes. Her chest expanded as she slept, and I couldn’t help smiling as I listened to her snore. An uninformed person, or non-dog owner, would think she’d worked hard based on how heavily she slept and the sound of her snoring. I glanced at the white fluff scattered around my bed. I saw the plastic squeaky that had once resided inside the white lamb toy, but was now outside with a hole that I suspected would match Aggie’s teeth perfectly. Apparently, gutting stuffed animals, sleeping, eating and just being adorable was exhausting. I stared a bit longer and then bent down and caressed her muzzle. She opened her eyes and stared at me. Then, she gave my hand a lick. She was small, but she was such a big part of my life. I picked her up and carried her outside to take care of her business. I carried her partly because she was so cute and partly because since we’d moved, she preferred playing a game of catch me if you can instead of going outside and taking care of business. Dixie assured me I was playing into her paws every time I allowed the game to continue. My compromise was to carry her and place her outside rather than engaging in the sport.
Outside, Aggie shook, pranced around a bit and then quickly squatted and took care of business.
When she was done, I opened the door and she came inside, taking the time to stretch multiple times. Her life is so hard.
Despite my late arrival and the fact that it was Saturday and I didn’t have to go to work, Aggie woke me up at six, as she always did. Feeling the weight of her walking up my body and standing on my chest, I rolled over to the side, forcing her to clamber off.
From my side position, I felt her breath on my face. When I opened my eyes, she was mere inches away.
“It’s Saturday. I don’t have to go to work and since I let you out to go potty about three hours ago, I doubt that you have to go potty now.”
Aggie licked my face.
“Ugh.” I sat up and wiped my face. “What have you been eating? Your breath smells awful.” I stared at her.
Aggie wagged her tail in the way she had that made the bed shake. Then, she ran down the stairs I kept beside the bed to help her climb up and down.
Resistance was futile so I picked her up and went to the back door. I let Aggie out, locked the door and went to answer my own call of nature.
When I was done, I thought about climbing back in bed, but my cell phone vibrated on my nightstand and I realized sleep was over for today.
I picked up the phone and saw the face of my daughter, Stephanie, staring back at me. “You’re up pretty early today. Aren’t you on Central Time?”
Stephanie gasped. “I’m so sorry, Mom. I wasn’t paying attention to the time. Lucky and I were just getting back from our walk and…I thought I’d call.”
Lucky was a golden retriever she adopted after she found him injured and cowering under the deck at my last rental while she was visiting. He had been highly trained and was a great dog. However, something in her voice made me wonder if all was well. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.” She sighed.
“How’s work?” Stephanie was a successful attorney in Chicago. “Lucky? Joe?”
“Works fine and Lucky is wonderful. In fact, he’s the best representative of his sex I know.”
That narrowed down the problem. “I take it things aren’t great between you and Joe?”
Joseph Harrison was a Lighthouse Dunes policeman and a member of the K-9 unit with his Plott Hound, Turbo. Stephanie and Joe started dating after he helped us figure out who murdered my estranged husband, Albert. They really seemed perfect for each other, although Lighthouse Dunes was just over an hour from Chicago, and I suspected the distance would become a problem at some point.
“Anything you want to talk about?” I asked tentatively. As her mother, I knew I was entering dangerous territory. Life as a parent was a delicate balance for both of us. Stephanie obviously wanted to talk, or she wouldn’t have called at six in the morning. Yet, she didn’t want to be the crybaby who ran to her mom when her problems got too much. I wanted to be there for my children but didn’t want to overstep. I wished, not for the first time, that someone had created a manual for this.
“Not really.”
I sighed. “Okay, so how’s the weather in Chicago?”
“Why do men have to be so stubborn?”
For the next fifteen minutes, I held the phone while Stephanie poured out her heart. I listened but wasn’t idle. I let Aggie inside, made coffee and started cooking bacon, eggs and toast. Stephanie needed to get things off her chest, but she didn’t particularly need advice from me. When she was finished venting about Joe’s faults, which basically amounted to his unwillingness to give up his job and move to Chicago, she sighed again. “What do you think I should do?”
“I think you should come visit your mother.”
She paused. “No, what do you think I should do about Joe? Don’t you think it’s archaic and chauvinistic for him to expect me to give up my career and move to Lighthouse Dunes? I mean if he isn’t even willing to entertain the idea of moving to Chicago, then what’s the point of our continuing to see each other?”
I listened for another three minutes. By the time she finished talking, my breakfast was done. I took it outside and sat at the table on my deck. She paused. Unfortunately, the moment she chose for me to respond was the exact moment when I’d just shoveled bacon and toast in my mouth. I chewed quickly and gulped some of my coffee to help the lump slide down easier. “I’m serious. I think you and Lucky should come down to Chattanooga. A short vacation away from the situation might help you sort through your feelings and put things in perspective. Besides, you haven’t seen the house I’m planning to buy, and I’d love to get your opinion about some of the changes I’m planning.”
Stephanie hesitated for a few seconds. “I suppose Lucky and I could take a few days off. I don’t have anything pressing at work and it might be good to be unavailable to certain people for a little while.”
“Great.”
We talked for a few minutes, but I could tell she had warmed up to the idea of a little getaway. By the time I finished my breakfast, she was already surfing the Internet for the best flights.
I looked down at Aggie. “Breakfast before seven on a Saturday. I hope you’re happy.”
She wagged her tail, oblivious to my sarcasm. She was happy that my attention was focused on her.
I showered, dressed and tidied up. Dixie was coming over later for day two of the fundraising activities which involved a trip to Archibald Lowry’s estate for a poodle specialty and demonstrations from our dog club. The East Tennessee Dog Club Association would put on a show for agility, obedience and tracking. I gazed out in the yard at the open tunnel, closed tunnel and the PVC jumps Dixie gave me to practice with Aggie. Neither one of us were exactly sure about those, and so far all I’ve done is look at them while Aggie sniffed them. However, today wasn’t the day for practicing.
“You have got to be joking? I can’t adopt another dog. I can barely handle the one I’ve got!” I stared at my friend.
Dixie smiled. “You’re looking at me like a dog looking at a new bowl.”
“I’m not exactly sure what that means, but if you mean I’m looking at you as though you’ve suddenly lost control of all of your faculties, then yes. Yes, I am.”
She merely grinned. Dixie sat in a chair on the back deck of my house. It was a beautiful spring day in Chattanooga. Seventy degrees at eight in the morning and the crepe myrtle, dogwood, Bradford pear, and crab apple trees the previous owner had planted around the perimeter of the large two-tiered deck were blooming along with bright red, coral and orange tulips, purple and white lilac bushes and white flowering Azaleas. The birds
were singing and the sun shone bright. Sitting outside on my deck, the events of last night seemed like a dream. Surely, there wasn’t anything as horrible as a murder on a day like today.
Dixie sneezed. “I love Chattanooga, but all of this pollen is driving me batty.” She took a finger and wrote “pollen sucks” in the heavy layer of yellow film that covered nearly every flat surface, despite my best efforts to wipe it clean.
“Thankfully, I don’t have allergies, but we didn’t have anything like this in Indiana.”
“The weather man said this was the worse pollen season we’ve had in two decades.” She sneezed three times in rapid succession, jostling the small fur ball that had fallen asleep on her lap.
Aggie, my black toy poodle stood on her back legs and sniffed the furry little interloper that distracted attention away from her.
Dixie watched the interplay carefully. I noted she kept a firm arm around the puppy and a close eye on Aggie.
The bundle of fur sat up and looked at Aggie. His body shook with excitement and when Aggie brought her nose close enough, the shaking increased and a tiny pink tongue quickly licked her nose.
Satisfied the fur-ball posed no threat, Aggie sniffed, got back down on the ground and walked away.
Dixie smiled. “See, Aggie approves.”
I looked down at Aggie who lay on the deck near my feet, licking the pollen off her paws.
I stared at Dixie. “Is pollen harmful to pets?”
She stared at Aggie. “I don’t think it’ll hurt her, but dogs can get allergies. Have her eyes been watering a lot?”
I shook my head.
“Have you noticed excessive scratching? Sneezing?”
“Nope.”
She shrugged. “She’s probably fine, but you should ask your vet. It can be hard to tell with dogs. Pollen can get on their fur and paws and be absorbed through their skins. Usually, they’ll scratch more or have hotspots where they bite at one part of their skin.”
Dixie wasn’t a vet, but she was a dog trainer with tons of experience competing and judging dogs, so I trusted her judgment.