I pushed aside a low-hanging branch and ducked beneath it. “I heard that you and Victor hadn’t been getting along recently.”
“Like what?” She grimaced. “That’s public news?”
“I might have asked a few questions.”
“About me?” Hannah didn’t sound happy.
“No, about Victor. But your name came up.”
“And now you want to know what Victor and I were fighting about.”
“Well . . . yes,” I said. “Although I was going to try to be more subtle than that.”
“You, subtle? That’s a laugh. Everybody knows what you do, Melanie. You’re always poking your nose into everybody’s business.” She stopped abruptly and turned to face me. “Mind you, I’m not entirely opposed to that. I can be a nosy person myself—but having you come all the way out here to interrogate me? That was unexpected.”
I hadn’t thought of it as an interrogation, but whatever. “Do you mind?”
“I don’t know,” Hannah replied. “Maybe I do, maybe I don’t. I have to think about it. Let’s walk.”
Chapter 14
We’d covered nearly a mile before Hannah spoke again. It was a beautiful afternoon to be walking in the woods. Even if she didn’t answer any of my questions, I wouldn’t regret having come. Faith and Izzy were dodging in and out of trees, chasing squirrels, and bounding through the snow. The two Poodles were having fun too.
“Do you want to know why I left the Paugussett Poodle Club?” Hannah asked.
“Sure.” I’d take any information I could get.
“There were too many rules. It seemed like somebody was always telling you how you were supposed to do things.”
“Somebody like Aunt Peg maybe?”
A smile twitched around the edges of Hannah’s lips. “Your aunt can be pretty overbearing. Plus, she always thinks she’s right about everything.”
Tell me about it, I thought.
“I get that she’s a VIP in the dog show world and all, but sometimes people just want to live their own lives, in their own way. You know?”
Did I ever. I blew out a puff of air and watched it disperse into tendrils. Not that I was winded or anything. But Hannah was setting a pretty good pace. And I had no intention of asking her to slow down.
“When that thing with Victor came up—you know, that he was breeding his Mini stud dogs to other breeds? Sure, I thought he was wrong. But I also thought it was wrong of PPC to turn against him. First, because Victor had a right to make his own choices, whether or not the rest of us agreed with him. And second, because by giving him an ultimatum—cut it out or be thrown out—the PPC board lost a chance to educate him about a better way to do things.”
“I agree with you in theory,” I said. “But as I recall, the quarrel between Victor and the PPC board went on for months. And Aunt Peg spent much of that time trying to convince him of the error of his ways. Victor is probably the only person who’s ever stood up to her like that.”
Hannah looked at me and grinned. “Maybe Peg killed him then. You know, just for being contrary.”
I shook my head. “Aunt Peg’s more impatient than that. If she was going to kill Victor, she’d have done it three years ago.”
As we laughed together, the two Standard Poodles circled back to us. One black and one white, the two bitches looked like mirror images of each other. Faith was clearly enjoying herself. She was also covered in snow. Izzy probably was too, but the flakes were harder to see on her white coat. I barely had time to give Faith a pat before she heard a noise in the woods and went racing away again.
“They’re having a terrific time,” I said. “I ought to bring Faith over here more often.”
“I come every day,” Hannah told me. “It’s wonderful exercise. Feel free to join me any time you like.”
I just might take her up on that.
“Back to Victor,” I said. “You still haven’t told me what you and he were fighting about.”
“It wasn’t a big deal,” Hannah began. Then she stopped and started over. “Well, actually it was a big deal. But not the kind of thing someone would kill a person over.”
“Go on.”
“It’s probably no secret that when Victor started the Empire Poodle Club he was scrambling to find members. New York, New Jersey, and Connecticut all had affiliate clubs already. So Poodle people around here who wanted to join a club, already belonged somewhere.”
I nodded.
“The AKC has rules about things you need to do if you want to get your club accredited. Which obviously everybody does, because otherwise you can’t hold events. The AKC wants to know how the club is organized and how its records are kept. They also ask who the members are, where they live, and what’s their involvement in dogs. The AKC is serious about that stuff. You can’t just go around making things up.”
“Oh,” I said suddenly. I could guess what was coming next.
“Oh, indeed.” Hannah frowned. “Last year I got voted in as club treasurer. Don’t think that’s some kind of honor, because it isn’t. All it really meant was that no one else was willing to do the job and I drew the short straw. One of my duties was collecting dues from the members. All the members. Even those I’d never met because they never seemed to show up for meetings.”
“Don’t tell me,” I said. “You discovered that some of them didn’t actually exist.”
“Not right away. Because the people had names and addresses that looked real enough. Although two of them lived on the same road that Victor did, which struck me as odd because I thought he was the only Poodle breeder in Peekskill. When I asked him about it, he just told me not to worry. That he’d be taking care of any dues I couldn’t collect. That was when I began to get suspicious.”
“You found out that Victor had falsified EPC records in order to get the club accredited, didn’t you?”
Hannah sighed. “Yes.”
“Did you ask him about it?”
“Of course I did. I didn’t have a choice. Eventually some AKC official was bound to figure out what he’d done and then we’d all be in trouble. It wouldn’t just be Victor’s problem. The fact that fraudulent documents had been filed would cause repercussions for all the officers of the club. As treasurer, I’d be held responsible too.”
“What did Victor say when you confronted him?”
“He totally blew me off. He told me I was making a mountain out of a molehill. But I wasn’t.”
“No, you weren’t,” I agreed. “That’s serious stuff.”
“Victor was totally cavalier about what he’d done. And his attitude really pissed me off. I’d already left one Poodle club. And this one was supposed to be better.” Hannah glanced my way. “No offense.”
“None taken.” Every affiliate club had its issues, even my own.
“How was this club going to be any better,” Hannah asked, “if Victor was in charge and hell-bent on screwing things up?”
“You could have resigned in protest,” I said.
Hannah looked at me like I was daft. “And then what? Hope that the Paugussett club would welcome me back with open arms? I don’t think so. What I wanted to do was slap some sense into Victor. And until a few days ago when he went and got himself killed, I was trying to figure out how.”
Aunt Peg hadn’t been able to make Victor see reason, I thought. I doubted that Hannah would have been successful either. But now we’d never know.
“What will happen to your club now that Victor’s gone?” I asked.
“I have no idea.” Hannah grimaced. “It hadn’t even occurred to me to worry about that yet. Victor was such a driving force at EPC. I don’t know if the rest of us will want to sort out those problems and continue without him.”
The sun was dropping low behind the trees that surrounded us. It wasn’t dark yet, but it soon would be. Fortunately, the path we’d taken was circling back around to the carriage house. I could see our two cars in the distance.
Faith and Izzy rejoined
us on the path. The two Poodles were tired too. Faith’s tongue was hanging out of the side of her mouth, but her step was jaunty and her tail was still high in the air. She’d enjoyed our walk. So had I.
“One last question?” I said to Hannah.
“Sure, why not?” She looked resigned now.
“At the show last Sunday, Victor came over to the ring after the Mini judging. He and Louise Bixby got into what looked like a heated discussion. What was that about?”
“Hell if I know,” Hannah retorted. “I was as surprised as everyone else when it happened. The judge and the show chairman? Why would either one of them want to cause a scene at their own show? They were both out of line, if you ask me.”
I nodded in agreement.
“All I could do was stand there and continue doing my job like everything was proceeding normally,” she continued. “I probably looked like an idiot, handing out armbands and pretending nothing was wrong.”
I remembered that Hannah had turned her back and moved away. In her place, I’d have done the same.
“So you didn’t hear what they were talking about?”
“No way. I didn’t want to hear. The last thing I wanted was to have to get involved. I distanced myself as much as I could, considering that they were almost in the ring. All I know is that Louise sent Victor a note and then he came over. That’s how the whole thing started.”
“Louise Bixby sent him a note?” I repeated. That wasn’t what she had told me. She’d claimed not to know why Victor had accosted her. “Are you sure about that?”
“Absolutely.” Hannah nodded. “I was there when she did it.”
We’d reached the parking lot. She opened her car door and hopped Izzy inside. I did the same with Faith. Hannah pulled out of the lot first but I was right behind her. It was dusk now. The Waveny Park driveway was dark enough that I immediately turned my headlights on.
I gave Sam a quick call to tell him that I was on my way home. Despite his misgivings, I was glad I’d come. Faith and I enjoyed our hike. And Hannah had given me plenty to think about.
* * *
I never got a chance to call Manny Garza because he contacted me first. Apparently I wasn’t the only one to whom Larry Bowling had given a phone number. Manny called that night after dinner.
I was watching a movie with Sam and Kevin. Davey was up in his room doing his homework—or, more likely, checking out his friends’ social media. When my phone rang, I picked it up and carried it into the kitchen.
Bud jumped off the couch and trailed along behind me. The Poodles knew better than to look for handouts but that little mutt was ever hopeful. He figured any time he was in the kitchen, he was that much closer to having something edible fall into his mouth.
“This is Manny Garza,” the man said when I held the phone to my ear. “I hear you’ve been looking for me.”
Not yet, I thought. But I’d been about to.
“You want to talk about Victor Durbin, is that right?”
“Yes. Thank you for contacting me.”
“It wasn’t my idea. Larry Bowling put me up to it. He says I’m supposed to confirm a bunch of stuff he told you.”
“Only if it’s true,” I said quickly.
“Oh, it’s true all right. Leastways, most of it is. Here’s what we’re gonna do. Tomorrow I have a delivery to make at the Pooch Pub. I’ll be there after lunch. You find your way there—I guess I might have a few minutes to spare, so you can buy me a cup of coffee. Otherwise you’re out of luck. I’m a busy man, you understand?”
“Of course. What are you delivering to the Pooch Pub?” I probably knew the answer but I felt compelled to ask anyway.
Manny snorted into the phone. He didn’t address my suspicions. “Tomorrow afternoon,” he told me. “That’s your chance. Take it or leave it.”
Sam raised a brow when I rejoined him and Kevin on the couch. Tar had moved into my spot while I was gone. Faith glared at him until he shifted over to make room.
Kev was curled up underneath Sam’s arm. Although the movie was Aladdin, one of his favorites, he was already half asleep. In this scene, Aladdin and Jasmine were riding on a magic carpet. I wished I had one of those.
“That was Manny Garza,” I answered Sam’s unspoken question.
“Friend of yours?” He didn’t recognize the name.
“We haven’t met yet but I doubt it.” I wedged myself in between Kevin and Tar. “Manny breeds Schnoodles.”
“Schnoodles.” Kev gave a drowsy giggle. “There’s no such thing.”
I reached over and smoothed back the bangs that had fallen down over his brow. “Actually there is,” I told him. “It’s a kind of dog. A cross between a Schnauzer and a Poodle.”
That made my son’s eyes pop open. “Really?”
“Well, it’s not a real breed. It’s a mixed breed. You know, a mutt. Like Bud.”
“Bud’s a Schnoodle?”
The expression of astonishment on Kev’s face made Sam and me laugh. “No, Bud’s a different kind of mutt.”
“What kind?” Kevin demanded. He was wide awake now. Aladdin was zipping around the television screen with a monkey, but he was long forgotten.
“We don’t know exactly,” Sam admitted. “Bud looks like he has some Beagle and Boxer in him. And maybe a smidge of Whippet.”
Kevin sat up. He shook his head. “Nope, that’s not it. Schnoodle sounds better.”
“Better than what?” Davey walked into the living room carrying a bowl of ice cream. I couldn’t believe he’d gotten ice cream for himself and hadn’t offered any to us.
“Bud’s a Schnoodle,” Kevin informed him.
“Since when?”
“He was born that way. With spots and everything.”
Davey considered that. He’d spent enough time at dog shows to be conversant with most breeds. “I’m pretty sure a Schnoodle wouldn’t have spots,” he decided.
“Would too!” Kevin tried to stamp his foot. He was sitting on the couch so much of the effect was lost. Instead, he accidentally kicked Tar, who jumped up, bounced off the coffee table, and knocked into Davey. The bowl of ice cream went flying.
Luckily the bowl was made of plastic so it didn’t shatter when it hit the floor. Three dogs went scrambling to grab dessert. No surprise, Bud got there first. He snatched up the big scoop of ice cream and dove beneath the couch with his prize. Tar and Augie had to make do with licking the floor and the bowl respectively.
“Who’s going to clean that up?” asked Davey. He knelt down and peered under the couch.
“Whose ice cream was it?” I inquired.
“That’s not fair,” said Davey.
“Good luck winning that argument,” Sam told him.
Chapter 15
In the middle of the day, I could get to Tarrytown in twenty minutes if I drove there straight from Howard Academy. Manny hadn’t specified a time. He’d only said that he would be at the Pooch Pub after lunch—and I didn’t want to miss him. I headed out as soon as my school day ended.
Planning ahead, I’d left Faith at home that morning. She wasn’t happy about that, but there was no way I was going to take her anywhere near the Pooch Pub. Faith would have been as horrified by the owners’ careless disregard for puppy welfare as I was.
Tarrytown was situated beside the Hudson River, just south of Sleepy Hollow, home to Washington Irving’s headless horseman. Within easy driving distance to midtown Manhattan, the village was a popular residence for New York City commuters. Its downtown area featured quaint buildings and abundant reminders that Tarrytown had been in existence since before the Revolutionary War. Most days, the village bustled with activity.
I had to give Victor credit for that at least. He’d chosen a great place in which to launch his business.
The Pooch Pub was located on the outskirts of town, housed in a freestanding brick building on a corner lot. A cheery sign announced the pub’s presence and a parking lot wrapped around two sides of the building. Large bay
windows on either side of the front door let in plenty of light. At one-thirty in the afternoon, the parking lot was mostly full.
I slid the Volvo into a narrow spot, got out, and paused for a look around. A white panel van was parked toward the rear of the building. Nearby, a back door to the pub was standing open. As I watched, a man unloaded a crate from the van and carried it inside. It looked as though I’d located Manny Garza.
I walked around the building and waited until he reappeared. Manny was no taller than me. He had broad shoulders and a thick body. He moved like a man who was accustomed to physical labor. When I said his name, he swiveled around. His eyes, framed by a single bushy eyebrow, were dark and intense.
“Who wants to know?” he asked.
“I’m Melanie Travis. We spoke on the phone?”
I held out a hand. Manny made no attempt to take it. I wasn’t sure if he even noticed it. Instead he peered at my face so intently that I wondered if he was nearsighted. Or if my mascara was smudged. Finally, I let my hand drop.
“Oh yeah,” he said. “I wasn’t sure if you’d show up. Looks like you got here just in time. I have one more crate to unload. Ten minutes later and you’d have missed me.”
“This must be my lucky day,” I replied. The sarcasm was lost on Manny. For some reason, he was still staring.
“Look,” he said. “I’m only talking to you because Larry asked me to. Otherwise, I’m just here to deliver some dogs. That’s business. You? I don’t know what that’s about. If you want to go inside and order me an espresso, I’ll be there in five minutes. That’s the deal, okay?”
“Fine by me,” I told him.
I had no idea what to expect when I walked inside the Pooch Pub. I knew puppy and kitten cafés were becoming a thing, but I’d never seen one in person before. Why would I visit a puppy café when I could get all the canine kisses I wanted right in my own home?
At first glance, the airy room looked much like every other coffee bar I’d ever frequented. There was a long counter in the back. A chalkboard menu hung on the brick wall behind it. The space between me and the counter was crowded with small, round tables. Most were occupied. Many held an open laptop or the remains of a meal.
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