by V. M. Burns
She shook her head. “Nothing. It’s just amazing to see someone get that much enjoyment from a piece of cake.”
I ignored her and took another bite. “Have you tried one?”
She nodded. “I think I’ve eaten three. I’m not going to fit into my clothes when I get back to Chicago.”
I took a sip of the coffee from the cup Dixie slid in front of me. “Let’s not talk about you going back. I want to enjoy every minute I have with you here.” I glanced down at Lucky who was laying by her chair. “You and my grand-dog, Lucky.” I smiled.
We sat in silence for a few moments. Eventually, Dixie broached the subject I had been reluctant to start. “Please tell me you didn’t murder Joe. I like him and Turbo and could really use his help with the demo this afternoon.”
“He’s still alive.” Stephanie hesitated. “We had words, but he was fine last night.” She turned to Dixie. “You should ask him to come. I know he and Turbo love doing demos for kids. Besides, it’ll keep him away from Eli.”
Dixie glanced from Stephanie to me.
I shrugged.
She picked up her cell phone. “If you’re sure…”
Stephanie nodded and forced a smile that didn’t make it to her eyes. “Of course I’m sure, Aunt Dixie.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out her cell phone. After a few swipes she rattled off Joe’s number.
Dixie quickly dialed the number. After a brief conversation with Joe, she hung up and smiled. “Great. He said he’d meet us at the school.”
I glanced at Stephanie. “Does that mean you won’t be joining us?”
“Actually, I want to do some additional research at the law library.” She glanced at me. “If that’s okay with you? Of course, I can get a rental car if you’re going to need—”
I shook my head. “No need for a rental.”
“I’ll be with Dixie at the demo and then we have obedience training tonight.” I glanced at Dixie.
She nodded enthusiastically. “Your mom and I will be going to all the same places anyway, it makes sense.”
The transportation issue settled, I glanced at Stephanie. “Is something bothering you?”
She frowned. “I don’t know. It’s just something about Archibald Lowry’s will.”
Dixie and I waited for her to explain.
She took a deep breath. “Archibald Lowry was a very wealthy man.” She hesitated. “But it’s very unusual for someone who was as wealthy as I’m told he was, to create a will that was so…well, not what I expected.”
“What do you mean?”
She frowned. “Usually, someone with billions of dollars in assets would have managed their affairs better, but the will Eli showed me was…well, for lack of a better word, it was sloppy.”
She looked up and our faces must have reflected that we didn’t have the slightest idea what she was talking about. She took a moment to think and then started to explain.
“According to Eli, Archibald Lowry created a living trust and what’s called a pour-over will. Sometimes people want to avoid probate which can be expensive and time consuming. So, they create a revocable living trust. Basically, the person transfers their assets into the trust to keep their loved ones from having to go through probate.” She paused and glanced at us. “Are you following me?”
We both nodded.
“Good.” She continued. “If the major assets have been transferred to the living trust, then when the person dies, the pour-over will directs whatever is left to pour-over into the trust and then be distributed to the beneficiaries.”
I frowned. “Well, that sounds logical. What’s wrong with that?”
Stephanie shook her head. “There’s nothing wrong with it. It serves a lot of purposes. It’s usually pretty simple because the estate plan is governed by the one document, the trust. It takes care of “leftovers”—any items the person didn’t get around to transferring to the living trust before their death.”
Dixie nodded. “So far, so good.”
Stephanie looked from Dixie to me. “It also keeps the details of who gets what private. Trust documents, unlike a will—aren’t a matter of public record after a death.”
I thought for several minutes about what Stephanie said. “But you said Archibald Lowry left a will with the probate office.” I frowned. “So, I’m confused.”
Stephanie nodded. “Exactly. If he went to all the trouble of setting up a living trust and transferring assets to avoid naming the beneficiaries, then why deposit another will which revoked all previous wills?”
Dixie and I exchanged glances and eventually shrugged. I turned to Stephanie. “Did Eli have an explanation?”
She shook head. “He wasn’t aware that Lowry had filed another will.”
Dixie raised an eyebrow. “I would have thought Goldstein would have been the executor of the will. But it sounds like he didn’t even know what his client was doing.”
Stephanie nodded. “Exactly my point. The will Lowry filed with the probate court looked like something he found on the Internet. It had typos and the wording was awkward.”
“Is it legal?” I asked.
She nodded. “It’s legal, alright. But, why do it? He had a lawyer. Why not have him create a new will? Or, if he wanted to make someone else administer of the trust, then that’s just a simple wording change.” She stared at us. “Why did he create a completely different will and file it with the probate court, basically undoing all of the benefits of the living trust?”
We stared at each other.
“No idea.” I frowned. “But inquiring minds want to know.”
Chapter 15
Despite our best efforts, we weren’t able to come up with an answer for why Archibald Lowry managed his funds the way he did. As tasty as the bundtinis were, we were still hungry and decided to grab lunch before we left for the demonstration. Stephanie joined us for a quick meal at a local chain, but then headed to the law library while Dixie and I headed north to the nearby town of Cleveland, Tennessee.
Cleveland was a modest sized city, with less than fifty thousand residents spread out over approximately thirty miles of land. Tennessee is an active part of the United States ‘Bible Belt’ and home to more than two hundred Protestant churches and one Roman Catholic church. When I was researching the general area and looking for a place to call home, I learned that Cleveland was the international headquarters of several Pentecostal religions. All of which probably explained why it was the home of my realtor and friend, Monica Jill.
Dixie drove us to Morrison Middle School, a brick structure that resembled practically every school in America. It was located near a private Christian university. Dixie explained the proximity allowed the middle school students to take advantage of the university’s library and some of their faculty, making it highly desirable among Cleveland families. The front had a semi-circular driveway for parents to drop off and pick up students. However, we bypassed that and went around to a parking lot at the back of the building which was advertised for faculty members only. Dixie reached down to pull a piece of paper from her purse and stuck it in the windshield of her car. The paper gave us the right to park in the faculty lot for today only.
Behind the school was a grassy area with a track. There were dogs positioned nearby and a mob of middle schoolers petting and cuddling the animals.
Joe and Turbo were already there by the time we arrived. Joe was wearing jeans and a T-shirt, but was undoubtedly a policeman, even without the Lighthouse Dunes K-9 Division baseball cap. Turbo was wearing his vest that indicated he was working today.
Dixie walked up to Joe and gave him a big hug. “Thank you so much for agreeing to do this, especially at the last minute.”
“What else do I have to do?” Joe gave a half smile. “Besides, it’s keeping me from doing something stupid.”
“Like what?” I asked.
<
br /> “Like running a background check on Eli Goldstein.”
Dixie and I exchanged glances and then we both answered together. “Do it.”
He was taken aback. “What?”
“Don’t let us stop you,” Dixie said.
He looked at me.
“Joe, I’m Stephanie’s mother and I try to stay out of her love life, but as her mother I’m also completely biased. We’re in the middle of a murder investigation.”
“I know, but—” He looked confused.
“Isn’t it common for the police to investigate everyone in a situation like this…you know, murder?”
He half shrugged. “Yes, but I’m not assigned to the case.” He rubbed the back of his neck.
“Pish posh.” Dixie waved away his concerns. “I’m sure Red would love to have the help of a highly trained investigator like you.” She glanced down at the Plott Hound sitting beside his partner. “And Turbo, of course.”
“I’m not sure Stephanie will see it that way.” He stared at us for several moments, but then I noticed the corners of his lips twitch. After a few seconds, he stopped trying to control the twitch and smiled. “Thanks.”
“Mrs. Echosby,” a voice called out.
I turned at the sound of my name. I looked around and saw Addison Abbott beckoning from the bleachers near the track. Next to her was Dr. Morgan.
I gave an enthusiastic wave and hurried over to the bleachers to watch my first herding exhibition.
Addison slid down and made room for me on the bleachers just as we heard Dixie’s voice over an external loudspeaker.
Dixie thanked everyone for attending and the principal at Morrison Middle School for hosting the demonstration. She then gave a brief explanation of the events which would start with a herding demonstration. She introduced Mai Nguyen and her border collie, Skye. She talked a bit about the history of the breed while Mai prepared.
When she was ready, Mai gave a signal and Dixie asked the audience for silence. Mai had a trailer at the end of the field and she opened the gate, releasing four sheep. There were oohs and aahs from the crowd as the sheep pranced down the ramp and wandered around the field.
Mai had a whistle and a long wooden crook. She blew the whistle and Skye crept forward and around behind the sheep. Another blow from the whistle and Skye crouched down and waited. A long tweet and Skye continued rounding the sheep, circling closer and closer until they turned and headed in the direction she wanted. Another short blast from the whistle and she halted, changed course and herded the sheep in the opposite direction. Mai had Skye repeat the maneuver several times.
On the loudspeaker, Dixie whispered like an announcer at a golf tournament and explained that herding dogs like border collies were used in farming to help bring sheep down from one pasture to the next or with lambing.
Mai gave three blasts from her whistle and Skye took off toward the sheep. The startled animals started to run and Skye chased and prodded them in the direction she wanted, all without touching them. Skye singled one of the sheep away from the others and was pushing it toward a small makeshift pen which was placed at one corner of the field. Eventually at a blast from Mai’s whistle, Skye coaxed the sheep into the pen which was quickly closed.
The crowded applauded.
Dixie explained how a herding dog was invaluable for ranchers and farmers during lambing season.
Mai blew her whistle again and Skye led the remainder of the sheep into the pen.
At the end of the demonstration, Dixie cautioned the crowd to do extensive research before purchasing a dog. “Border Collies are excellent herding dogs, but these dogs need a job. They are highly intelligent and were bred over centuries to herd. A border collie will herd ducks, sheep, cattle, children or cars.” The crowd laughed. “But a border collie without a job is a recipe for disaster. This is an intelligent breed which will do great on a farm, but I don’t recommend them for apartments.”
At the end of the demonstration, Addison clapped enthusiastically. “That was amazing. I wish we had a farm and I could get a border collie.”
Dr. Morgan smiled. “Farms are a lot of work.”
“I know, but if we had a farm, I could practice being a vet with all of the different animals.”
Dr. Morgan stood. “I’m going to see if Mai needs help getting the sheep back in the trailer.” Next, Dixie introduced Joe and Turbo. Both were accustomed to doing demonstrations for children in Lighthouse Dunes. Dixie gave Joe the microphone and he explained that Turbo was a Plott Hound.
“Anyone ever heard of a Plott Hound?” he asked.
There were a few hands.
“They aren’t well-known, but they are one of the few hounds which originated in the United States. These dogs were bred to track bear and wild boar.”
There was an appreciative rumble from the crowd.
“Needless to say, these dogs are fearless. They are excellent in search and rescue and as a police dog, they are also great with what we call bite work.” Joe gave Turbo a few commands in German which Turbo followed to the letter.
While he talked, Dixie slipped beside me and tapped Addison on the shoulder beckoning for her to follow. The two slipped behind a trailer. After a few moments, Dixie returned alone carrying Addison’s sweater.
When Joe was near the end of the demonstration, Dixie walked up and handed him the sweater then took the microphone. She explained that Turbo was going to search for a lost girl. She cautioned everyone to remain still while the dog tracked.
Joe placed the sweater in front of Turbo and let the dog sniff, then he took the leash and gave the dog the command to find. Turbo put his nose to the ground and walked around the grounds. When he got to the bleachers, he sniffed the seat where Addison had sat earlier, but then continued to follow the path that she and Dixie had taken. When he got to the trailer, he sat down. Addison stood up and showed the crowd that he had, indeed, tracked and found his prey. The crowd applauded. Joe returned Addison’s sweater and she returned to the bleachers.
Dixie then demonstrated obedience commands with Chyna and Leia. Aggie and Rex were there purely for petting. However, after months of attending similar functions with Dixie, I was able to tell the small crowd of people who came to pet the dogs basic facts about poodles. I was amazed how much I’d learned about the breed in a short period of time, and relayed how the breed was also highly intelligent, easy to train and don’t shed.
When the event was over, the school thanked Dixie and all of the exhibitors. Then they gave us the greatest gift of all: the football team’s assistance in putting away all of our equipment, which cut down clean up time to a fraction of what it normally took.
It wasn’t until Dixie and I loaded the four poodles into the RV and sat down that I realized how tired I was—tired and hungry. My stomach growled so loudly Rex, who was sitting on my lap, jumped down. We laughed.
“I guess we better get you something to eat,” Dixie joked.
The principal agreed to watch the trailer and the sheep so we could grab a quick bite before we headed back to Chattanooga. So, Mai left her truck and rode with Dr. Morgan to a seafood restaurant located in the downtown area.
Downtown Cleveland, Tennessee was a quaint area with cobblestoned, tree lined streets, brick store fronts, and colonial and Victorian houses. The restaurant was small and situated near the town’s one and only art museum.
Joe removed Turbo’s vest and left him in the air-conditioned RV with the other dogs while we ate.
It was clear that Dr. Morgan was very fond of Mai. Surprisingly, the beautiful gamekeeper seemed equally fond of the coroner, if their playful banter was anything to go by.
After we placed our orders, Dr. Morgan mentioned that he was going to help Mai take the sheep back up the mountain and wouldn’t make obedience class tonight.
He glanced at Joe several times out of the cor
ner of his eyes, clearly unsure if he could be trusted.
Dixie patted his hand. “If you have something to say, you can speak freely.”
Dr. Morgan nodded. “I completed the autopsy on Archibald Lowry.” He followed up with a lot of technical jargon that I think amounted to the fact that cause of death was due to the stab wound he received. Which wasn’t surprising. What came next was. “However, I took the liberty of running a few additional toxicology screens.” He took a deep breath. “More than I would normally have done, but based on some information I received.” He colored and avoided looking directly at Mai.
She rolled her eyes and patted his hand. “It’s okay. I don’t mind saying that I thought Archibald Lowry had been acting strangely the last few weeks.” She shrugged. “Well, he was always strange, but the past few weeks he was even more strange.”
Joe leaned forward. “You found something in the toxicology report?”
Dr. Morgan nodded. “Arsenic. Archibald Lowry was being poisoned.”
Chapter 16
After a few seconds, the shock wore off.
Dixie leaned forward. “What? Who? How?”
I added, “Why?”
Dr. Morgan held up a hand to fend off the questions. “Arsenic is tasteless and odorless. Hair, toenails and fingernails tend to hold the poison and are great for testing.”
Mai leaned over. “Isn’t arsenic pretty much everywhere? I mean isn’t it in rat poison? Plus, it’s also in the food and water.”
“Yes and no. It’s not actually used in rat poison anymore. However, you’re right that it’s a lot more common than most people think. It’s in our food and water in extremely low doses. It was also used in paint dyes and wallpaper.”
“But wouldn’t he have shown signs of being sick?” I asked.
Dr. Morgan shrugged. “It probably would have seemed like gastrointestinal problems.”