Paw and Order

by V. M. Burns

  She took a sip and her eyes widened. “That’s amazing.”

  I nodded.

  We enjoyed our food in silence and once our appetites were sated, we sat back and allowed the grease and ice cream to settle.

  There was a large envelope sticking out of the top of Stephanie’s bag.

  “What’s that?” I pointed.

  “I almost forgot.” She picked up the envelope and pulled out the papers inside. “Archibald Lowry’s last will and testament.” She slid it across to me.

  I glanced at the document and tried to make sense of the legal language, but after a bit, I handed it back. “Maybe you could give me the Cliff Notes version.”

  She chuckled as she took the document. “He’s left small legacies to his staff.” She glanced through the document. “However, after his debts have been paid, the bulk of his estate and holdings are to be sold. The proceeds are to be distributed among various charitable organizations.”

  Something in her eyes made me suspicious. “I don’t suppose there’s anything wrong with that. Dixie mentioned he was interviewing various charities, which is why she met with him.”

  “I’m not saying there’s anything suspicious about his decision to leave his money to charity. Lots of philanthropic minded people do that.” She hesitated. “Did Archibald Lowry mention to Aunt Dixie that he planned to leave the bulk of his wealth to the Eastern Tennessee Poodle Rescue?”

  I stared. “You’re joking?”

  She shook her head.

  “How much is it?”

  Stephanie looked around to make sure we weren’t overheard and then leaned across the table and whispered, “I did a little research at the library while I was waiting, and we’re looking at close to a half-billion.”

  I nearly choked. “Did you say, billion, with a B?”

  She nodded.

  “Good gracious.” I stared at Stephanie. “I wonder if anyone has told Dixie.”

  We stared at each other for several seconds while I tried to get my mind around figures that large.

  “Is it legal?” I asked.

  Stephanie nodded. “It all appears to be in order.”

  There was something in her voice that worried me. “What’s bothering you?”

  She shook her head. “I don’t know. It’s just a bit…odd.” She passed the document back to me. “Archibald Lowry intended to leave the bulk of his estate to the Scottish Heritage Foundation until a week ago. Look at the date.” She pointed. “Something happened in the last week that made him change his mind.”

  “I wonder what happened?” I asked.

  She shrugged. “No idea, but whatever it was, it must have been major because it cost the Scottish Foundation a fortune.”

  I stared at the will and then at my daughter. “That much money could make someone desperate.”

  She stared. “I’d love to know what happened to make Archibald Lowry withdraw such a large donation to a cause that was very close to his heart.”

  I sighed. “And, I wonder….”

  She must have read my mind because she finished my thought by saying, “If losing that much money made someone angry enough to kill.”

  Chapter 12

  “People have killed for a lot less.” I thought for a few moments and then added, “Although, we shouldn’t jump to conclusions.”

  Stephanie’s phone rang. She answered and a slight flush rose in her cheeks. Even before she spoke his name, I knew she was talking to Eli Goldstein. Her flush was soon replaced with a scowl. “Well, I don’t know, but I’ll definitely ask her.”

  Listening to one side of a conversation was like trying to complete a crossword puzzle with only the across or down clues, but not both. So, I slurped the remains of my milkshake and waited. Thankfully, I didn’t have to wait long.

  Stephanie hung up and stared at me. “Well, that was strange.”

  “Strange how? Did he ask you out to dinner?”

  “Yes, but that’s not the strange part.” She halted and shook her head. “That didn’t come out right, but you know what I mean.” She took a deep breath. “The strange part is that he said he talked to Mary and Fergus Kilpatrick. Apparently, they noticed how attached you were at the dog show to little Indulf.” She glanced at me.

  “Rex. I changed his name.”

  She nodded. “Well, they want to make you an offer for the dog.”

  I wasn’t expecting that. “An offer?”

  “According to him, they want Indulf…ah, Rex as a memorial of their cousin.” She paused and watched my face.

  “He’s a dog, not a floral arrangement.” I could feel my blood pressure rising. “He’s a living, breathing, being with a personality, and he’s not for sale.”

  Stephanie reached across the table and clasped my hands. “I know, but wait. Don’t you want to know how much they’re offering.”

  “No. No, I don’t. It doesn’t matter how much. He’s not for sale.”

  She paused and I could tell she was itching to tell me. “Okay, how much?”

  “Fifty-thousand dollars.”

  “You have got to be joking.”

  She shook her head slowly. “According to Eli, they could tell that you’re attached and well, they wanted to provide significant compensation…or…”

  I waited. “Or, what?”

  “He implied that as the only living relatives of Archibald Lowry, they might take legal action, but hoped it wouldn’t come to that.”

  My heart raced and I felt light headed as the blood rushed to my head. “Legal action? They’re threatening me with legal action? Well, they can just bring it on. Rex is my dog and I’m not giving him up without a fight.” I huffed.

  Stephanie squeezed my hands. “I know.”

  I took several deep breaths and remembered that Stephanie was just the messenger. I gave her hands a squeeze. “I’m sorry, dear. I know this isn’t your fault.”

  She gave a half smile. “It’s okay. I know how you feel.” She sat quietly and swallowed hard. “I remember how I felt when I first found Lucky. We bonded at once and then…that man wanted to take him.” She batted away tears.

  “Oh honey, I’m sorry.” I felt the tears roll down my face, but I didn’t bother to wipe them away.

  Stephanie looked up and gave a nervous laugh. “We look a hot mess.” She grabbed her napkin and wiped her face.

  I rummaged in my purse until I found some tissues and pulled them out and did the same.

  Stephanie wiped away most of her eye makeup, and her eyes were red from crying, but she still looked beautiful. I knew from past experience I wasn’t a pretty crier and would need to reapply my makeup.

  Our waiter tentatively approached our table. “Is everything okay? I hope there was nothing wrong with the food or the service?”

  He looked so sincere that we both chuckled as we hastily reassured him that both the food and the service were fine.

  After he left, Stephanie looked at me. “That poor man may never be the same.”

  We collected our belongings and prepared to leave. Stephanie hesitated before I rose. “Mom, I’m not familiar with Tennessee law, but I’m going to look into it. Legally, I don’t believe they’re entitled to him. They weren’t listed as heirs and therefore, don’t inherit, but I need to do some additional research. Regardless, I’ll do what I can to make sure you don’t lose Rex.”

  I nodded. “I know you will.” I stood up.

  “I’m also going to dinner with Eli Goldstein.”

  I started to speak, but the look in her eyes halted my words. “I think he knows something and I’m going to find out what.”

  Chapter 13

  A quick search on her cell phone showed Stephanie the location for the nearest legal library. I’m a big fan of libraries, but I preferred the ones with a large mystery section. Thankfully, I got a
text message from Dixie saying she was downtown, so I quickly arranged for her to pick me up.

  Today Dixie was driving her Lexus rather than the RV, which meant she didn’t have the poodles with her. I slid into the passenger seat and fastened my seat belt. “Where to?”

  She eased into traffic and made a few turns which took her onto the interstate. “Back to Lowry’s house. I want another chat with that butler.”

  “Good. I didn’t get to talk much to the housekeeper. She seemed terrified, even before the chauffeur was killed.”

  “Well, her boss had been murdered recently, so…maybe she had a good reason for being frightened.”

  “Maybe, but…”

  “But you don’t believe it.” Dixie headed up the mountain.

  I told her about the offer by the Kilpatricks, via Stephanie, during the drive.

  “Fifty thousand dollars? Are you joking?”

  I shook my head. “Not according to Eli Goldstein. Are poodles worth that much money?”

  She shook her head. “I’ve never heard of anyone paying that much money for one. Thoroughbred horses, yes. Dogs…no.”

  “Maybe the Kilpatricks will be at the house and I can find out why they’re offering so much for him. I mean, they barely knew Archibald Lowry.” I glanced at my friend. “Speaking of money did you know Archibald Lowry left the Eastern Tennessee Poodle Rescue a large amount of money in his will?”

  She smiled. “Really, that’s nice. I knew he was looking at several charitable organizations, but I didn’t know he’d chosen us.”

  I could tell from her calm response she had no idea of the amount. I turned in my seat to make sure I didn’t miss her reaction when she found out how much. I needn’t have bothered. When she heard the amount, she nearly drove off the side of the road.

  She gave the steering wheel a sharp turn to the left and got the car back on the pavement. “Holy mother of God.”

  “I had a feeling you didn’t know.”

  “Didn’t know? Are you joking? I didn’t have a clue. If I’d known, I wouldn’t have been so stressed out about the silent auction.” She shook her head. “That doesn’t make any sense. Why would he do something like that. He barely knew me.”

  “I guess you must have made a big impression.”

  She shook her head. “No. I couldn’t have made that much of an impression.” She whistled. “That’s just crazy.”

  “You said he was eccentric.”

  “I know, but…that’s beyond eccentric.”

  “Maybe it just seems like a lot of money to us, but it wasn’t that big of a deal to him. You know, everything is relative.”

  During the ride to Lowry’s estate, we discussed a plan of action and a cover story for our presence. By the time Dixie pulled in front of the grand estate, we were both ready.

  Archibald Lowry’s estate was a large stone fortress with a circular driveway. Flying from a flagpole in front of the stone structure was the national flag of Scotland. Royal blue with a diagonal white cross called a saltire, the flag announced to all visitors the allegiance of the owner. The flag and the sheep which grazed in the front yard were two of the prominent features I remembered from my other visit.

  We walked to the front door and rang the bell. After a short wait, we were greeted by Bradington.

  “Hello, Bradington.” Dixie pulled out her contract. “I wanted to go over a few things from the weekend to make sure everything is accurate and taken care of.”

  Bradington stood his ground, and for a split second it looked as though he wasn’t going to allow entry. However, after an awkward few seconds during which Dixie flashed her biggest smile, he stepped aside and we entered.

  The outside of the castle was dark and hard with a stone façade which was cold and uninviting. The interior was much the same. The gray interior stone walls lining the entry were softened slightly with massive tapestries depicting brutal scenes of stag hunting. We were led into a living space which continued the drab theme from the exterior. The living room was a manly, lumberjack’s dream filled with dark wood from top to bottom. A massive stone fireplace dominated one of the walls. The stones appeared to have been taken from the same quarry as the stone that comprised the exterior with an opening large enough for a man to walk into. The room was dark with wood paneled walls, dark hard wood floors, and oversized dark wood furniture. Covering one of the wood paneled walls were deer and elk heads mounted on wood plaques. I tried not to stare, but found it difficult, especially at a wall of glass-eyed heads which all appeared to be staring at me.

  Dixie focused on Bradington. “Now, where should we set up?”

  “Excuse me?”

  She patted her large purse. “I brought my laptop. It’ll be a lot easier to just show you everything online.” She glanced around. “Is there a table where I can spread out?”

  Bradington sighed. “Follow me.”

  As the two headed through a doorway, I coughed. “Could I trouble you for a glass of water?” I smiled, but then remembered I was supposed to be choking and so I started coughing more loudly.

  Bradington halted. “Certainly, I’ll just go—”

  “I don’t want to bother you. I’m sure if you point me in the right direction, I can just nip in the kitchen and get it myself or maybe Mrs. Huntington…”

  He hesitated a second but then pointed. “If you go through the dining room, you’ll find Mrs. Huntington in the kitchen.”

  I nodded and hurried off, coughing for good measure as I walked. I looked around behind me but Bradington wasn’t following.

  The kitchen was small compared to the other rooms of the house. Terracotta floors, dark wood cabinets and appliances which were probably older than my children, based on the colors. Avocado green hadn’t been popular since the early seventies.

  I found Catherine Huntington sitting at a wood kitchen table, sipping tea. She was a large boned woman with a plain face, gray hair pulled back in a severe looking bun and the start of a moustache.

  She started to rise when she saw me, but I held out a hand to stop her.

  “Please don’t get up. I was just hoping to get a glass of water.” I looked around and saw an open shelf with tea cups. I pointed. “Would you mind if I joined you?”

  She shrugged.

  I hurried over and grabbed a teacup then sat down across from her. She poured tea from a brown betty teapot into my mug and we sat sipping our tea in a companionable silence for several minutes.

  “You probably don’t remember me, but my name is Lilly—”

  “I remember you,” she said in a gruff voice. “You were with that posh lady at the dog show.”

  I nodded. “That’s my friend, Dixie.”

  She grunted and sipped her tea.

  I glanced around the kitchen which was clean and tidy. “Have you worked for Mr. Lowry long?”

  “Nigh on twenty-five years.”

  “That’s a long time to work for the same person.” I paused waiting for her to agree or disagree. She merely grunted and took another sip of tea.

  “You must have enjoyed working here to have stayed so long.”

  “Yah.”

  I waited, but she was the queen of brevity.

  “Have you enjoyed meeting Mr. Lowry’s cousins? It must be nice having another woman in the house.”

  Catherine Huntington grasped the crucifix she wore around her neck and the medallion. At close proximity, I was able to make out the image on the medallion was that of St. Martin.

  “Of course, having two more mouths to feed must be challenging.”

  She shrugged.

  “Did you travel to Scotland often with Mr. Lowry?”

  “Often enough.”

  “Is that where he met his cousins, Mary and Fergus Kilpatrick?” I smiled. “That must have been nice, a big family reunion in Scotland.”
r />   She started and sloshed tea on the table. The same look of fear that I’d noticed at the lunch flashed across her face but quickly vanished, replaced with the vacant look she’d worn earlier.

  She got up from the table and got a towel to clean up the spilled tea.

  I offered to help but was brushed away with a wave of her hand.

  “Excuse me.” She took her tea mug to the sink and started to wash it. “Ain’t got time for gossip.”

  I felt the heat rush up my neck. Embarrassed, I rose, placed my cup on the counter and turned to leave. However, before I reached the door, I turned and walked back to Mrs. Huntington. “Listen, I don’t want to get you in trouble, but maybe I can help.”

  She looked at me. “What do you mean?”

  “I couldn’t help but notice your medallion.” I reached out and touched her arm.

  Catherine Huntington jumped. “I don’t know what you mean.”

  I gazed at her. “It’s okay. I just want to help.”

  She closed her eyes and took several deep breaths. Then, as though a flood gate had been lifted, she said, “I ain’t had no peace since the day Mr. Lowry was murdered and I don’t expect to have any until I leave this house.” She dropped her head. “I’ve done for Mr. Lowry for over twenty-five years and now the house is to be sold.” Tears streamed down her face. “I’m too old to start over. No one will hire an old woman. Most folks don’t want or need a live-in housekeeper and cook and I don’t know how to do nothing else.”

  I patted her arm. “Don’t worry. I’m sure we’ll be able to find you a new position.” Even though I already knew the answer, I asked, “Did Mr. Lowry leave you a legacy in his will?”

  She grabbed a handkerchief and wiped her eyes. “Bless his soul, he left me five thousand dollars, but that won’t buy me a place to live. If I do find another position, it’ll likely not be a live-in. I’ll have to make my way back and forth and that’ll be expensive.”

  “Who told you about your legacy in Mr. Lowry’s will?”

  She sniffed. “Mr. Eli come by and told me. He was concerned and didn’t want me to worry. Bless his soul.”