Paw and Order

by V. M. Burns

  I assured Catherine Huntington that I’d do my best to help her find another position and she cried tears of joy. I was just going to ask her again about Mary and Fergus Kilpatrick, when the two appeared in the kitchen doorway.

  Mrs. Huntington immediately turned back to the sink and assumed her mask of a sullen faced domestic.

  “Hello, it’s Mrs. Echosby, isn’t it?” Mary Kilpatrick smiled and spoke in her thick Scottish brogue.

  Catherine Huntington grunted and turned back to the sink.

  Mary Kilpatrick smiled. “Poor dear, nervous as a hare.” She turned to me. “Now, what brings you here?”

  “My friend, Dixie, had to go over some things with Mr. Bradington.”

  Fergus frowned. “Now, that wee lass should na’ be talkin’ to the butler.” He puffed up his chest. “She should be talkin’ to me or me wife. After all, if it’s business she needs to discuss, that should be done with the laird.” He smiled, but it looked menacing and I shuddered involuntarily. He reached out a hand and touched my arm. “Now, I think you and I have a little business to discuss too.”

  I searched my brain but couldn’t figure out what he and I could have to discuss when Mary Kilpatrick filled in the missing pieces.

  “That wee pup is just the most darlin’ thing and I know you’ve got your heart set on keepin’ it.” She gave a pouty smile.

  Fergus was more forceful. “You may ’ave wanted ta keep it, but he belonged to me cousin Archie and I just know he’d have wanted him to stay in the family.”

  Before I could respond, Dixie entered the kitchen. “Lilly Ann, there you are.”

  “Yes, oh right Dixie. I have to go now, but I’ll definitely keep what you’ve said in mind. We’ll talk later.”

  I picked up my purse from the table and pulled Dixie, not so gently, toward the door.

  Dixie nodded to Fergus and Mary and I waved a hasty good-bye as we high tailed it out of the house as quickly as possible.

  We didn’t speak until we were in the car and heading down the mountain.

  “Are you going to tell me what that was about?” Dixie asked.

  Dixie drove in silence while I told her all that happened with Fergus, Mary and Catherine Huntington. Kind hearted soul that she was, she immediately latched onto Mrs. Huntington’s plight. “Well, I don’t see a problem finding her a job.” She paused while she navigated a sharp turn. “I mean, Beau and I could probably use some help around the house and our home is certainly big enough for her to live there.”

  I grinned. “I was hoping you’d say that.”

  She glanced at me and smiled. “Even though it’s just Beau and me, we have Chyna and Leia and…I thought once I retired from showing, there would be plenty of time for cooking and cleaning, but now that I’m a judge I still go to just as many dog shows as before.” She sighed. “Plus, there’s my dog classes and the poodle rescue, and I’m still on three other boards.” She shook her head. “There just doesn’t seem to be enough time in the day.”

  I took a deep breath. “I think it would be great if you could take Mrs. Huntington, but there is something you should know.”

  She gazed at me from the corner of her eye. “Okay.”

  “I think she may be an alcoholic.”

  “Oh dear.” After a few moments, she said, “What makes you think that? Don’t tell me she was drunk.”

  “No, but I was thinking back to the luncheon, and remember when we drank to Archibald Lowry, well she didn’t. I noticed that her hand was shaking a bit and she didn’t drink her champagne.”

  “Maybe she doesn’t like champagne.”

  “Have you noticed that she always seems to be clutching the crucifix and the medallion around her neck?”

  Dixie nodded. “I assumed it’s a Catholic thing.”

  “It is…sort of. Anyway, I got a good look at the image on the medallion and it’s St. Martin of Tours.”

  “Who’s St. Martin of Tours?”

  “He’s the patron saint of alcoholics.”

  “Oh.” She drove on in silence for a few moments. “I don’t know. Beau and I have alcohol in the house, and I wouldn’t want to tempt someone who is struggling with an addiction.”

  “I understand, although I noticed Archibald Lowry had a bar.”

  “Good point. I’ll talk to Beau and I’ll let you know about the job.”

  I nodded.

  “Now, what’s the deal with the cousins? You dragged me out of that house so fast, you ‘bout gave me a case of whiplash.”

  I related the conversation I’d had with the two Kilpatricks.

  Dixie was clever and picked up on the one thing that had bothered me from the conversation. “Well, isn’t that interesting. Fergus told you Archibald Lowry was his cousin when Mary told Monica Jill he was her cousin.”

  “Exactly.”

  “Either they have some strange familial relationships in that family…or…”

  I nodded. “Or, one…or both of them is lying.”

  The remainder of the ride home was uneventful. When we pulled into the driveway, I recognized Red’s truck in the driveway. When I didn’t see him in the truck, I knew he was probably around the back sitting on the deck.

  Dixie said, “I should go home, but I’m anxious to hear if Red found out anything more about the murders.”

  We went inside and Dixie went out back while I stopped at my bedroom. When I opened the door, Aggie and Lucky flew out of the room and raced down the hall to the back door. I stopped by the small crate where Rex was anxiously turning around in circles and pawing at the door. I opened the door and quickly scooped him up so he wouldn’t squat before I got him outside and raced to follow Aggie. At the back door, I was surprised to see that Red and Dixie weren’t alone. I opened the door and both dogs raced past me and down the steps where they began a quick round of chase with Red’s dog, Steve Austin, followed closely by their Plott Hound buddy, Turbo.

  “Joe, what a pleasant surprise. I didn’t know you were coming.”

  He stood up when he saw me and we hugged.

  Joe had been friends with Red in the military. In fact, Joe introduced Red to Stephanie and me when I first moved and ran into a bit of trouble at my previous rental. We met Joe when he was helping to investigate the murder of my husband, Albert. He was also my daughter’s boyfriend, at least until recently.

  Joe was a member of the Lighthouse Dunes K-9 division and rarely went anywhere without his partner, Turbo. Aggie was shamelessly enamored with Turbo and had stopped running and was now rolling in the grass with her dog friends. Rex leapt onto Turbo and nipped at him, anxious to join the fun.

  Joe looked on anxiously and then whistled. Turbo stopped instantly and ran to him. Aggie and Rex followed. “Cute puppy. Whose is he?” He glanced from me to Dixie.

  She pointed at me.

  He smiled. “He’s pretty tiny. Aggie is used to Turbo, but I don’t want this little guy to get hurt.”

  Dixie waved him off. “Honestly, I think he’ll be okay. I’ve been watching and Turbo is careful.”

  He smiled. “Aggie seems to like running with the big dogs.”

  I looked down at Aggie who was now trying to regain Turbo’s attention. “The little hussy knows exactly what she’s doing.”

  I leaned over and kissed Red, noticing the cooler beside him. “What’s inside?” I asked.

  “I brought some steaks and beer. If you haven’t already eaten.”

  “Sounds good to me. Just let me change into some comfortable clothes.” I turned to go inside. “You know where everything is.”

  I hurried to my bedroom and changed into a pair of jeans and a comfortable shirt. I stopped in the kitchen and got a head of lettuce from the fridge, quickly chopped it and put it in a large bowl along with tomatoes and cheese. I grabbed a bag of croutons and two bottles of salad dressing.
/>
  Red entered the kitchen while I was working. “Was it okay that I brought Joe?

  “Of course. Joe is a friend. He’s always welcome.”

  “I hear there’s some…turbulence between him and Stephanie.” He waited, but I didn’t fill in the silence.

  “Can you grab the silverware?” I said instead

  He reached in the drawer and picked up the tray with the silverware.

  Dixie and Joe were sitting at the table drinking beers and watching the dogs play in the yard. We chatted about dogs, Lighthouse Dunes, the weather and everything except the things that we most wanted to discuss, while Red manned the grill. He didn’t take long and we were all comfortably eating steaks, roasted corn and salad while the dogs gobbled down a mixture of dry dog food mixed with grilled hot dogs.

  Dixie kept giving me wide-eyed looks, sudden head tilts in Red’s direction and eventually a kick to the shins which made my eyes water. When I was able to speak clearly, I asked, “Any progress on the murders?”

  Red glanced up from his food. “Progress, yes.” He took a drink. “Have we caught the killer, no.”

  Once the door was opened, Dixie burst through. “What progress have you made?”

  Red gave Joe a look that said, help me.

  Joe merely shrugged. “You might as well tell them what you know. They’re going to go sleuthing with or without you.”

  Dixie reached across and patted Joe’s arm. “That’s very smart and you’re absolutely right.”

  “Besides, we might have some information that could help.” I flashed my best smile.

  Red leaned forward. “You both realize withholding information is a criminal offense, right?”

  I smiled. “I’m more than willing to cooperate with law enforcement.”

  He glared for a few seconds. Then he released a deep breath. “What the heck. Frankly, we haven’t learned a lot, except…”

  Dixie and I both leaned forward. “Except?”

  “Except that no one seems to know where Archibald Lowry got his money and the best we can tell is that he’s running some kind of second chances employment service.”

  Dixie and I exchanged glances. The puzzled expression on her face mirrored what mine must have looked like.

  “What do you mean? Wasn’t he a businessman?” Dixie asked.

  Red nodded. “Yes, but when he first entered the business world, he seemed to already have quite a bit of money.” He shrugged. “We’ve got our newest addition to the bureau working on it.”

  Something in his voice made me curious. I stared at him and then the reality dawned on me. “Madison?”

  He nodded.

  I hopped up from my seat, came behind him and gave him a big hug. “I’m so glad. That’s great. David will be so excited.”

  Madison Cooper was a beautiful young woman we’d met a few months ago. She was great with dogs and had made a lasting impression with my son, David, who had been here visiting. I believe they were still on quite friendly terms. At least, I hoped so. David lived in New York City where he was a highly successful actor who traveled the world performing. I was glad for anything, or anyone, that would entice him to come down for a visit.

  Madison had a unique set of skills which had landed her in trouble in her younger days. She was an adept Internet hacker, but thanks to Red she would now be able to use her skills for good.

  “When does she start?” I went back to my seat. “I can’t believe neither she nor David told me.”

  Red held up a cautionary hand. “She just found out today and we started her immediately.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “We’re short staffed at the moment, which is the only reason I was able to get her in. Normally, the process takes months.”

  “How—”

  He held up a hand. “And she is only on probation. Her record as a juvenile would normally have prevented her from consideration, but,” he shrugged, “she was really young when she was hacking and she didn’t do anything black hat, so…”

  After a few minutes, I recalled my son, David, explaining that black hat hackers got into systems for their own personal gain or malicious reasons. “I’m glad they were willing to give her a second chance.”

  “Seems to be a lot of that going around.” Red leaned forward. “Archibald Lowry was running a second chances program all by himself.”

  “What do you mean?” Dixie asked.

  “Everyone Archibald Lowry employed was an ex-con.”

  Dixie looked dumbstruck and if my face looked remotely as shocked as hers then I’d say the feeling was mutual.

  “But…how? I mean who?”

  “The butler, Ivan Bradington did time for robbery and murder. The chauffeur, Paul Carpenter, did a few years for extortion—”

  This time it was my turn to interrupt. “What about Mrs. Huntington?”

  He nodded. “Vehicular homicide.”

  I stared. After a few moments, Dixie reached over and closed my jaw.

  Red merely shrugged. “Apparently, the housekeeper had a bit of a drinking problem.” He shook his head. “She was so upset afterward, she had to go to a mental institution before she could even serve time. The judge was lenient and gave her three years.”

  Dixie turned to me and in her best Oliver Hardy voice said, “Well, Stanley, here’s another nice mess you’ve gotten me into.”

  This time, Joe and Red exchanged glances. After a few moments, Red asked, “Are we missing something?”

  In as few words as possible, I shared the conversation I’d had with Mrs. Huntington and that Dixie was considering hiring her.

  Simultaneously, Joe and Red both said, “NO.”

  Red pinched his nose and I knew a lecture was coming. Instead, he appealed to Joe. “Maybe you can explain to them why this is such a bad idea.”

  Joe shook his head. “He’s right. These people are murder suspects and…at least two of them are actually convicted murderers. You can’t just invite them into your house.”

  I shook my head. “I know. I know, but she seemed so nice.”

  “I’ve read reports that Lizzie Borden’s neighbors said the same thing about her,” Red said.

  In the distance, a loud boom of either a car backfiring or the sound of fireworks filled the air.

  The sound startled Steve Austin, Red’s pit bull/Labrador mix. The dog, which had moments earlier been standing by Red’s side, climbed into his lap.

  The sixty-pound dog quivered on his owner’s lap with both paws wrapped around his neck.

  Red tried to extract himself. “Some watchdog this is supposed to be.”

  Dixie cooed. “The poor dog.”

  Red glanced around the shivering animal. “Poor dog? He’s afraid of everything.” He patted the dog. “I thought pit bulls were supposed to be fierce.”

  Dixie clicked her tongue. “Pit bulls are one breed that gets a bad rap. Bad people train them for dog fights and make them vicious, but most pit bulls are loving, wonderful dogs.” She reached out a hand and rubbed the quivering dog. “Is he like this whenever he hears loud noises?”

  Red nodded. “Thunderstorms, car door slams, loud sounds on television.”

  “You might want to consider a Thundershirt.”

  “What’s that?” he asked.

  “It’s a tight vest-like garment that can sometimes help with anxiety.” She spoke in the teaching voice she used in her obedience classes. “If that doesn’t work, you might want to talk to your vet about CBD oil.”

  Red’s eyes widened. “You’re joking, right?”

  She shook her head. “Actually, there are a lot of studies that show it’s extremely helpful in reducing canine anxiety.”

  We chatted for a few moments about dog anxiety treatment and then returned to our previous conversation.

  Red narrowed his eyes. “What else have you bee
n up to?”

  We gave him a quick run-down on what we’d learned so far.

  Dixie gasped. “Please tell me his gamekeeper, Mai Nguyen, hasn’t murdered anyone.” She clutched her hands over her heart. “I think Dr. Morgan has a crush on her and I’m sure it would break his heart.”

  “Small Asian woman with a big British accent and attitude?” Red asked.

  I struggled to keep from laughing and nodded.

  He shook his head. “She’s just about the only one without a criminal record, but maybe I need to run a search on Interpol. I restricted my research to the United States.”

  “Yes. I think that would be a great idea.” I sat up straight.

  Dixie swatted my arm. “Are you crazy? Whose side are you on?”

  “I was thinking if he ran a search on the Interpol database, he could track Mary and Fergus Kilpatrick.”

  Dixie relaxed. “Oh.”

  We both turned to stare at Red.

  “I don’t need to run them through Interpol.” He paused and I could tell by the way his lips twitched, he was trying to avoid smiling. After a long pause, he said, “I don’t have to run American citizens through Interpol.”

  “I think I’m going to need something stronger than this bottled water.” I turned to Joe. “Can you hand me a pop from the cooler please?”

  Joe reached down and handed me a Diet Coke.

  Dixie stared at me with an odd expression on her face.

  “What’s wrong?” I popped the tab and took a long swig.

  She swatted my arm again. “That’s it. That’s what was bothering me about the Kilpatricks.”

  “They drink Diet Coke?”

  “No, it’s the fact that you just asked for a pop.”

  I shrugged. “That’s what we call it in the Midwest….well, at least in Indiana.”

  She looked at me. “Remember when we were in Scotland? People from different areas of Scotland had certain words that were unique. Just like in the United States.”

  I smacked the side of my head. “You’re right.”

  Red and Joe exchanged looks. Finally, Red said, “I’ve never been to Scotland. Can one of you tell us what’s going on?”