Buried to the Brim

by Jenn McKinlay

  “Oy, easy there, Ginger,” Harry said. “I already forgot the first question.”

  We entered the workroom to find Viv plating all manner of biscuits, including mine, fruit and cheeses. It was a light tea but it would hit the spot. Fee was in charge of the kettle, which was just beginning to steam. When it reached optimum whistle, she poured the hot water into the teapot and covered it with a cozy while it steeped.

  I nudged Harry into a seat at the table Viv had cleared, while I went to retrieve plates and napkins from the cupboard. I passed out the plates and took the seat next to Harry. Fee poured the tea into cups and I took mine, adding just a bit of sugar and milk. The cup was warm in my hands, which I hadn’t realized were so cold.

  I reached for a buttery swirl and dipped it into my tea. The biscuit absorbed just enough tea to make it crumble in my mouth, releasing the hot tea on my tongue.

  “How is Aunt Betty?” Viv asked Harry.

  “She’s all right,” he said. “I don’t think she completely realizes the severity of the situation.”

  “That she’s a person of interest?” I asked.

  “Exactly,” he said. “They don’t know the cause of death yet, but the fact that Swendson was shoved under the dais makes it look as if someone murdered him and tried to hide the body.”

  “Who was the woman who fainted in the stands?” Viv asked. “She seemed quite overcome.”

  “That was his wife, Tilly Swendson,” Harrison said.

  Viv and I exchanged a look. I’d seen the woman for only a moment but if I remembered right, she’d looked to be at least twenty years younger than Swendson. I knew from the cousin mind meld Viv and I sometimes shared, particularly when we were being catty, that she was thinking the same thing.

  “Maybe his death was a natural cause because she tuckered him out,” Viv said.

  I snorted some tea and then had a coughing fit. Harry patted my back.

  “Let me guess, younger woman?” Fee asked. We both nodded and she said, “So predictable.”

  “Wouldn’t she be a suspect?” I asked. “I mean, it’s usually the person closest to the victim if it’s murder, right?”

  “I’m sure they’re considering her,” Harry said. “I did some quick research after I dropped off Aunt Betty. Swendson’s Dog Food empire is co-owned by Gerry and his sister, Mary. I don’t know if Mary will inherit it all or if Tilly will inherit her husband’s half, but it should make the dog show really interesting since they’re the biggest sponsor and it’s going forward.”

  “Speaking of the dog show,” I said, “how are they going to make up the missing agility tests from this afternoon?”

  “They are doing them tonight,” Harry said. “I was hoping Aunt Betty would stay away, but since Freddy’s in the lead, she has a vested interest if Freddy stays in and wants to watch his competition.”

  “I’ll say she does,” I agreed. “What time do we need to go back?”

  “You’re coming?” he asked.

  “Of course I am,” I said. “Freddy and I are a team.”

  “You are?” Fee’s eyebrows went up.

  I explained about Aunt Betty not being able to compete and Fee tipped her head to the side and said, “I’m sorry, but a person, who is in fact the sponsor, has been murdered. What are you thinking to stay in the competition? Harry, tell her she has to drop out. She could be in danger!”

  “She’s right,” Harry said. “I don’t want you in harm’s way, but . . .”

  “If I drop out, it will look suspicious,” I said. “I appreciate the concern but I don’t want to create undue scrutiny for Aunt Betty.”

  “But what if the murderer comes after you?” Fee asked.

  “Pshaw,” I said. I waved my hand in the air. “I’ll be fine. Plus, I’ll be able to mingle with all of the competitors and find out who might have wanted Swendson dead.”

  “See!” Fee cried. She pointed at me and glared at Harry. “That, right there, is why she needs to stay out of it!”

  “I agree,” Viv said. A frown marred her forehead. “I don’t like this, Scarlett.”

  “And what about the hats?” I asked. I thought maybe I could win her over by using the business. “We’re already getting interest from the other competitors over our hats. This could be a whole new market for us.”

  “I’m not having you put yourself in danger in order to drum up some business for dog hats,” Viv said. She sounded thoroughly exasperated.

  “Really? One of the dog owners told me she’d pay five hundred pounds for a hat like the one Freddy was wearing,” I said. “And just think about all of the people who watch the dog shows, who would be inspired to buy a hat for their beloved Fido. I’m telling you, this is a whole new market for us and it could be huge.”

  “I think she’s gone mental,” Fee said behind her hand to Viv, which was pointless because she didn’t exactly whisper.

  “What’s next?” Viv asked. “A line of fezzes for cats?”

  “A cat in a fez would be stupid cute,” I said.

  “Or a giraffe in a bowler,” Harry said. He grinned at me.

  “How about a hippopotamus in a tiara?” Viv asked.

  “Or an otter in a top hat?” Fee suggested.

  “All right, I get it. We don’t want to corner the market on animal millinery,” I said. I tapped one of Mim’s Whims distinctive blue-and-white-striped containers. “But you don’t have to be so harsh. I’m just thinking outside the box.”

  All three of them looked at the hatbox and then at me. Not one smile. Not even a quiver of a lip at my punniness. Tough crowd.

  “You’re right, you should come with Aunt Betty and me tonight, but promise me you’ll try to keep a low profile,” Harry said.

  “No problem, I can totally fade into the background,” I said.

  Harry gave me a dubious look. “Really, Ginger?”

  “You’ll see,” I assured him.

  * * *

  * * *

  The arena was packed. Whether it was because more people could come in the evening or because of the scandal of Swendson’s body being found, it was standing room only in the Finchley Park auditorium. I followed Harry, who managed to secure a seat for Aunt Betty in the back, which was good because she was less likely to be noticed. He and I stood against the wall at the top of the bleachers with all of the other people who were seatless.

  The evening news had run a story about Swendson’s body being found but hadn’t said whether the police believed foul play to be involved. It seemed likely to me, but I knew it could be my own paranoia making me think this.

  From what Harry had discovered about the dog food company, it was worth billions. Tilly Swendson stood to inherit an awful lot if Gerry had left his share of the company to her. Not surprisingly, she wasn’t in attendance at the dog show. At least, when I scanned the special VIP seating behind the judges, she wasn’t there. Interestingly, I did see Mary Swendson. She was right behind the judges. Her face looked puffy and her eyes red. Her shoulders drooped and I got the feeling it was taking every bit of her British stiff upper lip to remain and not dissolve into a heap of tears.

  “I’m going to go do some recon in the contestants’ room,” I said.

  “What?” Harry asked. “No.”

  “But I have access,” I said. I held up my badge to remind him of my status.

  “I don’t want you wandering off by yourself,” he said. “We don’t know if or how or why Swendson was murdered. You could walk right into danger and not know it.”

  “I promise I’ll be careful,” I said. “I’m just going to eavesdrop to find out what everyone is saying. Besides, Andre is back there taking pictures. I’ll stay with him.”

  Harry opened his mouth to say something but the loudspeaker cut in with a burst of music and then the announcer introduced Mary Swendson. I watched her rise from h
er seat and approach the microphone. She looked so different from this morning. There was a fragility about her that made it seem a harsh word or a strong breeze would shatter her into a thousand pieces.

  The room was silent as the gaze of every person in the room was on her. She cleared her throat and then did it again. She leaned closer to the microphone and looked up, her eyes sweeping from one side of the room to the other. It seemed hard to believe that just ten hours had passed since I’d first seen her behind the registration table, greeting Freddy with kind words and a warm smile.

  “Good evening, ladies and gentleman,” she said. Her voice was soft and the crowd grew silent as everyone strained to hear what she had to say. “The PAWS dog show meant everything to my brother, Gerry.” She took a steadying breath. “It is for him that I am here now, recommitting our company to its charitable contribution to the dog show he loved so well and the many shelters that will benefit from the money raised here. In fact, in Gerry’s memory, Swendson’s Dog Food will be matching all contributions made to the PAWS Foundation for the duration of the competition.”

  I choked. Even I knew that the dog show raised several hundred thousand pounds every year. This was a huge sum of money. A murmur rippled through the crowd and then the applause started. It became deafening. Mary raised her hand in a small wave and then brushed a tear off her face. She looked overcome by the crowd’s response. Without another word, she turned and sat down.

  “Wow,” I said to Harry.

  “Indeed,” he agreed. Before he could argue, I kissed him quick and scampered off, taking the opportunity to hurry down the bleacher steps, allowing the crowd to fill in behind me, effectively keeping Harry in place while I went to chat up my fellow dog show crowd to see what I could find out.

  I showed my credentials and was able to leave the arena behind and slip into the waiting area. If there had been a manic energy this morning, now it was at a fever pitch. I saw the Youngs with Henry. They were both bent over, speaking to him while he sat looking up at them. I couldn’t figure out if they were giving him a pep talk or a lecture. I just knew that his ears were back and his tail was not wagging. He was not enjoying the conversation, whatever it was.

  I moved among the people prepping their dogs. I tried to look as if I had a purpose to be there, which was a flagrant fib because I didn’t have a dog with me. I hoped that no one would notice and call me out for having competed already that day.

  I really didn’t know what I was looking for. Did I really think someone was just going to pop up and confess? No. But I knew the gossip would be off the rails. When I worked in the hotel industry, managing the staff, I was always amazed at how fast the tale of the bad behavior of one guest or sometimes an employee could circulate through the building. I knew the dog show would be no different. If there was info to be had about Swendson’s death, this was where I’d hear it.

  I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket. It was a text from Harrison asking about my progress. Well, that was easy to answer with a thumbs-down.

  I looked for Andre but he was out on the course, snapping pictures of the dog that was competing at the moment. I heard a collective groan from the crowd so I figured the dog had messed up something. The bad part of me was happy because it meant Freddy would keep his number one spot at least for a little while.

  I scanned the room. I saw several people grooming their dogs as if getting them in the right Zen frame of mind. Some were warming up on special apparatus, like hoops or steps, and others were just hanging out, killing time until their name was called. I stayed out of the middle of the room and worked the perimeter, listening to the chatter.

  “I think his wife did it,” one woman said to the person standing beside her. They were ignoring their dogs while they chatted and I noticed that one dog, a tall hound, was trying to nip the other, a German pointer, who was perched on a chair, but the women were oblivious.

  “Nah, I heard she got cut out of the will,” the other one said. “It’s all going to the sister.”

  “Speaking of which, can you believe she’s here?” the first woman said. She pulled her dog away and gave him the command to sit, which lasted all of five seconds before he stood on his back legs and tried to put his mouth on the other dog’s neck. “What sort of deep freeze is her heart in if she’s not even grieving the death of her brother enough to miss the dog show?”

  “Well, they do spend a fortune sponsoring it. She’s likely trying to keep an eye on her investment.”

  I nodded. I had to agree with that.

  “Beg pardon, can we help you?” one of the women asked.

  I felt myself go still. Had they seen me nod? Had they caught me listening? I could feel my face get warm with embarrassment. Curse this fair freckled skin!

  Chapter 10

  Pretending to misunderstand, I glanced over my shoulder as if looking for whom she might be speaking to. I probably overdid it just a smidgeon. When I turned back around, they were both staring at me—okay, glowering might be more accurate.

  “Aren’t you the woman who took that corgi through the course this morning? The one that found Gerry’s body?” the taller of the two asked. She had dark hair and wore way too much makeup. Personally, I like makeup, as it makes my nonexistent eyebrows and lashes show up, but this woman had made her brows angry and her lipstick was a vibrant shade of purple not found in nature anywhere.

  “That’s right,” I said. Then because I’m a jerk, I couldn’t resist bragging. “We’re in first place.”

  “Not for long,” the shorter and curvier of the two said.

  Since her dog had given up trying to defend itself and was slowly being mawed by the other woman’s dog, which was now in the chair with it, I didn’t really think it had the gumption to beat Freddy but I didn’t say as much. I merely glanced at the dogs and then back up.

  “Good luck,” I said.

  She glanced at the dogs and let out a frustrated sigh. “Julia, get Buck off my poor Archer, right now.”

  The last part was said as a wail and I hurried away, not wanting to see what would happen if Buck refused to get off Archer. I didn’t think it would go well.

  I was making my way across the room to poke my head out and see how the dogs who had competed had done—okay, yes, I was going to check that Freddy was still on the top of the leaderboard—when I saw Richard Freestone, three-time champion and person to Muffin the bulldog, talking to Liza Stanhope.

  I tried to blend into the faded wallpaper with limited success. Primarily because the wallpaper was beige and I was wearing a bright blue coat, you know, because it brought out my eyes. Thankfully, the conversation between Freestone and Stanhope was looking intense and I didn’t think they’d notice me. I sidled closer, keeping my back to them and hoping they didn’t recognize my hair.

  “I don’t care what Swendson said,” Freestone was saying. “Betty Wentworth was right. There was something off about the dog food that was distributed to the winners last year. It’s almost as if it was tainted for a reason.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Liza said.

  “Don’t you?” he asked.

  “Why would Swendson do that?” she asked. “Having all of the dog finalists get sick after the big show would defeat the purpose of all of the advertising Swendson does, wouldn’t it?”

  “Unless he was desperate to get rid of the usual suspects,” Richard said. “I’m thinking of withdrawing Muffin from the competition.”

  “Don’t you dare!” Liza hissed. “Muffin has a huge social media following. It could ruin the dog show if you withdraw. It’s bad enough we have Swendson’s death to contend with, if anything else goes wrong, the show might not recover. You have to stay in.”

  “I don’t know. Betty was right—”

  “She was not. She’s just a pathetic old woman who is bitter because her corgi hasn’t won,” Liza said. “She was mak
ing up lies to cause trouble.”

  I felt my temper begin to heat. Aunt Betty didn’t lie and it took everything I had not to interrupt and curse at the vile Ms. Stanhope.

  “Betty’s the same age as me, so thanks for that.” Richard’s voice was dry. I desperately wanted to turn around and see his face but I resisted the impulse. “Listen, Muffin will eat anything, literally anything, and she refused to eat the food that we won from last year’s competition. Also, I know about the lawsuit.”

  Liza jumped as if he’d set off a bomb.

  “Shush,” she hissed. “Not here.”

  “Why not?” he asked. “What are you afraid of? It’s a bunch of people from last year’s show, suing Swendson for making their dogs sick. What does that have to do with PAWS?”

  “Nothing, except Swendson is our biggest sponsor,” Liza snapped. “We’re trying to keep the lawsuit quiet. Personally, Swendson’s legal issues are not my problem but the bad publicity that comes with it is, so hush.”

  “Aren’t you concerned that the people suing Swendson are former PAWS dog show competitors?” Richard pressed. “Aren’t you worried that one of them went rogue and got revenge on Gerry? Maybe you’re next. You should probably hire some more security.”

  “Stop it. You’ll start a panic,” Liza said. “Just because you’ve won this competition for the past three years, Richard, doesn’t mean you have the right to advise me about how I run things.” She sounded furious.

  “I have every right,” he said. “You have used my dog as the face of this show and I have gone along with it but I won’t continue, not if I find out that Swendson is harming the winning dogs with poor-quality food.”

  “Stop that,” Liza said. “You know that Mary is in charge of the production of the food. She would never let anything but the best ingredients into the food. You know this.”