Support Your Local Pug

by Lane Stone

  “Don’t let her get upset!” I yelled to Lady Anthea. I hoped I hadn’t been put on speaker.

  Julie was saying, “Really? Right now? I have to do this now?” That was followed by a couple of huffs.

  I heard David say, “Can’t this wait?” If the three of them were leaving the country right after the evening event, no, it couldn’t.

  “No, it cannot wait,” Officer Statler said. “My car is parked at the curb. Let’s go.”

  Then Lady Anthea said, “I want to accompany her!”

  “No, ma’am. I can’t allow that,” Officer Statler said.

  Lady Anthea stammered in confusion.

  I heard Julie say, “David, find me an attorney!” Why did she feel she needed an attorney? I wanted her to testify now more than ever.

  “A lawyer?” He was confused, too.

  “Yes!”

  “I will!” he promised. “Don’t worry!” He didn’t need to know why. Surely unconditional love like that was rare. Or maybe it was all around and I was blind to it.

  I drove as far as Front Street but then the volume of cars on their way to the library, the museum or the ferry terminal made it impossible for me to do more than inch along.

  “Will she let you ride in the car with Julie if you commit a crime?” I asked.

  “I wouldn’t advise that,” Officer Statler said. So I was on speaker. Great. She’d heard what I said but she hadn’t said it wouldn’t work.

  “Commit a crime!” That was the best suggestion I could come up with, and that tells a lot about the state I was in.

  “I stole this handbag,” Lady Anthea said.

  “Uh, ma’am, I believe that’s your own handbag.”

  “I was about to steal that man’s wallet!” Lady Anthea yelled.

  “He’s practically inviting you to!” Officer Statler yelled. “He’s turning around and pointing to the pocket it’s in.”

  “Let her go with me!” Julie yelled.

  It was official. They were all yelling. I hung up.

  When I crossed over Savannah Road, I was in front of the hotel. Julie was getting into the backseat of the police car. I turned into the packed parking lot and waited for Lady Anthea to see me. She was about to get in behind Julie. We made eye contact and she nodded toward David. Then she followed Julie into the cruiser. I guessed that was a first. When I pulled up to where David stood, I saw he was madly swishing the screen of his phone.

  I lowered the window and called to him. “Get in. Let’s go.” Traffic in the opposite direction was moving at the speed limit. The backup was only on the way to the three o’clock events.

  He looked up and seemed startled to see me there. “Uh, Sue Patrick?”

  “Yes, get in. We’ll follow them to the police station.” That would give us time to talk. “You can count on Lady Anthea to stand up for her interests.”

  “I have to find an attorney for Julie.” His voice softened around the name. “She thinks she needs one. Can you help me?”

  I still wanted to ask if he knew why she felt she needed a lawyer but stopped myself. A murder had more than one victim. If, in its wake, we suspected our neighbors, friends, or lovers, we were victimized, too. Sure, much less severely, but we still lost. If I planted a seed of doubt in David’s mind, he and Julie would be casualties. His attitude told me he didn’t care why she felt she needed an attorney. Good for him.

  “Of course,” I said.

  While he walked around the vehicle and climbed in, I was racking my brain to think of an attorney. Had Rick found someone for his father? I meant, a real lawyer. The law wasn’t the occupation of any of my surfing friends. The very thought made me snort and I had to cover it up with a cough. Surely someone among all the pet parents in town practiced law. There was one person I knew who was retired now, but had practiced law in Delaware. He had been a district attorney, supposedly a good one. Did I dare get the person I had in mind involved? I never voluntarily entered his orbit. Hadn’t David’s day gone to hell already?

  I pressed the necessary squares on my dash to place a call. “Call Charles Andrews.”

  He answered on the second ring. “Ms. Patrick? Is So-Long all right? He better be!”

  David turned to me in confusion and I smiled weakly at him. “Charles, I’m with someone whose—”

  “My fiancée, it’s my fiancée who needs an attorney. She has been taken to the police station.”

  “What’s her name?”

  “Julie Berger.”

  “And yours, young man?”

  “I’m David Fourie.”

  “I’m on my way.”

  What had just happened? Was he playing some kind of a trick? Would he even show up?

  When we arrived at the police station, I told David I would park and then wait outside for Charles Andrews. David jumped out before I was at a complete stop.

  I signaled to pull away from the curb and a driver honked his horn at me. Charles Andrews stopped the green Buick in front of me, illegally double parking. How had he gotten here so fast? What had I done? I stared as he spryly jumped out of his car and, moving faster than I had ever seen him go, he sprang up the pavement to the door. He was wearing a cardigan and had a briefcase under one arm. He tried to clip a bowtie to his collar but gave up after a couple of tries and a few choice words, and threw it on the grass. Now that he was the real Charles Andrews again, I felt free to drive off to find a parking spot.

  As I walked up the sidewalk, I saw Lady Anthea coming out of the police station doors and called to her.

  “Charles Andrews was magnificent,” she said.

  I indicated where I was parked and we went back to the Jeep.

  “I was invited to leave when he arrived. Not that I could have stayed much longer.” She pointed to her wristwatch.

  “Were you able to keep her calm enough for the interview to start?” I asked.

  “For it to start, yes. Chief Turner told her that they had opened Billy B.’s safe and he showed her his will. It said everything had been left to her. Then Mr. Andrews came in and introduced himself as her solicitor. That seemed to relax her.” We got in the Jeep and she continued, “I was thinking about what Julie said about the UNESCO position not being David’s dream.”

  I told her about how he’d been during the drive to the police station. “I really think all he cares about is doing what’s best for her.”

  “Yet, when he’s in public or with his father he certainly acts like the UNESCO promotion is what he wants,” she said.

  “Elvis once said—”

  “Oh, no.”

  I began again. “Elvis once said, “There’s the image and then there’s the man.”

  * * * *

  On the drive Lady Anthea told me about the food served at the memorial service. She had dined on Austrian potato salad, red cabbage, Viennese beef goulash, and venison bratwurst. We made it back to Buckingham’s with just enough time to go over our plans for the afternoon and evening one more time before the agility class began.

  Dana would start the rumor at Cape Henlopen High School and we expected an uptick in disciples when the parents found out.

  “Dana’s part-time modeling helped get her hired at the last minute for the afternoon event at the library,” Shelby told Lady Anthea. “She’ll tell a few people there about something being found on the lighthouse.”

  “She’s underage. Is it fair to ask this of her?” Lady Anthea said, massaging her temples.

  “Dana wouldn’t have it any other way!” Shelby said. “After the murder is solved, she wants to put this on her college admissions applications.”

  “After Henry’s murder we sat down as a group and talked about this. Granted, we may have been a little generous, since we were working under the assumption that there wouldn’t be another murder in Lewes in our lifetime. Fair is fair and w
e did agree we would do everything we could to be sure she was safe, but we would never lie to her or treat her like a kid,” I said.

  * * * *

  Since Lady Anthea had an agility class to teach, she would have to miss the three o’clock start of the Virtual Reality History Lesson. In three venues visitors could interact with our fantasy forerunners and at each we would be there hinting that the police had a lead in solving Billy B.’s murder. Police officers would be going to the Harbor of Refuge Lighthouse at daybreak. “How exciting,” we would imply. Then we would let Lewes’s rumor machine take over from there. We wouldn’t lie. The Buckingham Pet Palace didn’t get its sterling reputation by being dishonest. We would hint and we would keep complete deniability.

  “I’ll go to the library,” I said. This landmark building in downtown Lewes on Adams Avenue was the newest Lewes attraction.

  “I’ll take Zwaanendael Museum,” Mason said. That venue was built in 1931 to commemorate the 1631 Dutch settlers, the first European colony.

  “I’ve got the ferry terminal,” Shelby said. “Joey will stay here. Then Dana and he will come with us to the beach event at six o’clock.”

  I looked around the lobby to be sure all the pet parents were outside with Lady Anthea and not able to hear us, then turned to Mason. “Were you able to get everything we’ll need?”

  He nodded. “Everyone has stepped up.”

  * * * *

  Dana stood at the main entrance to the library, dressed as a seventeenth-century maiden and handing out virtual reality glasses, in exchange for your driver’s license. I was one of a group of ten people arriving around the same time. As Dana handed us our glasses, she recited her lines, “Lewes was discovered by Henry Hudson as he traveled up the Delaware River in the summer of 1609. The town was settled by the Dutch in 1631. Enjoy your afternoon learning about this historic seaport, Lewes, Delaware, through projected animations and virtual reality characters.” She stepped aside for us to enter. Then she looked surprised. “Chief Turner, I didn’t expect to see you here. After, well, you know—”

  I turned to see him behind me looking confused. He glanced around to be sure she was talking to him. Since he’s the only Chief Turner, or Chief Anything Else, in town, that was a no-brainer. How long would it take him to catch on? One thousand one. One thousand two.

  “I mean, what they found on the lighthouse.” Dana was playing her part to perfection, except for the fact that she hadn’t mentioned the murder. She could have been talking about finding anything on the Harbor of Refuge Lighthouse, from osprey droppings to a lighthouse keeper’s old boxer shorts.

  Chief Turner strode past us and went into the library, in a pretend huff. “Can’t discuss an ongoing murder investigation,” he grumbled. “Sorry.”

  He didn’t speak to me, but I saw the corner of his mouth fighting a grin. I took the virtual reality glasses from Dana and gave her a wink.

  At various points inside the library we were instructed to put on our virtual reality glasses. Additional virtual characters in the library would tell about the Dutch surrendering the land to the British, and continue to 1682 when the territory was given to William Penn, and the town was named Lewes, after the town by the same name in Sussex County, England, though it was part of Pennsylvania. At the same time, in the Zwaanendael Museum, virtual men, like Colonel David Hall of the Continental Army, gave eerily lifelike talks about the American Revolution, and other eighteenth-century happenings, such as the sinking of the Severn in 1774. At the Cape May–Lewes ferry terminal, nineteenth-century virtual reality people explained the bombardment of Lewes in the War of 1812. Buckingham spies at each had started texting me.

  “Whoa.” I stepped back at what, or rather who, was standing in front of me.

  “The area known today as Lewes, Delaware, hosted many notorious pirates, like me, Captain Kidd. Arr, arr, arr,” the tall virtual pirate said.

  “Arr, arr, arr,” a baritone voice close behind me said.

  I yanked off the glasses to see Chief Turner. He was walking away and I followed him to a section of nonfiction books. I wanted to know what he’d learned from Julie Berger. Maybe we wouldn’t need our plan after all, but somehow I couldn’t see that being the case.

  A ping told me a text had come in on my phone. I pulled it out of the pocket of my khakis, hoping Chief Turner wouldn’t turn around until we got wherever he was leading us, which was the biography section, if I wasn’t mistaken.

  The text was from Joey, and had been sent to Mason, Dana, Shelby, and me.

  Having a hard time getting clothes for Lady A. Says no to everything. Btw, what the hell are trainers? She won’t wear them.

  Dana: Kicks.

  I typed, What are kicks? Maybe a windbreaker and slacks for her?

  Mason: Athletic shoes. Recommend what Sue said and walking shoes. Like Mephisto. Sue will pay for them.

  We went radio silent. I had a picture of Lady Anthea on the back of a Jet Ski, in February, at night, in her wool pantsuit and sensible pumps. Maybe even a strand of pearls.

  “Sue?” My brain registered that it wasn’t the first time he had called my name.

  “So I have you to thank for Charles Andrews’s appearance?” he asked.

  “Sorry about that. How did it go?”

  “I think I gave her more information than she gave me,” he said.

  “What else was in the safe other than the will?”

  “Old newspaper clippings. I think some were from when he was a kid.”

  “Can I look at them?” I didn’t have much time but I thought it might be important since Julie hadn’t ruled herself out as a suspect.

  “I have someone over there if you want to go now,” he said.

  I thanked him. I knew the only reason I was getting that undeserved okay was because he was busy with the crowds drawn to Lewes by the celebration and frustrated by his inability to get useful information from his two suspects.

  “I heard back from the Coast Guard. They’re set up on their end. I’ll be in touch when it’s all over.”

  I thanked him in some vague way and we headed back to the library entrance. “I’ll admit it. I’m impressed. This is really first-rate,” I said.

  He nodded in agreement and walked away.

  When I got in the Jeep, I was checking for a new text from Joey when what Chief Turner said hit me. And it was like that proverbial ton of bricks. He would be in touch when it was all over? I looked around for his police car. It was parked in the row facing mine, down a couple of spots, and he was in it.

  I jumped out and made my way through the throngs of people waiting to get into the library. The line wasn’t one person behind another. In Lewes we were always talking to each other, so our queues were three- and four-deep batches of friends, even if we had met for the first time in that procession.

  By the time I got to John’s car, he was pulling out.

  “Stop!” I yelled, standing in front of the car, waving my arms.

  He rolled down the window and I walked around to talk to him.

  “What’s the matter? What happened?” he called, the concern in his voice apparent.

  “It was what you said!”

  “What?”

  “About letting me know when it’s all over. I’ll be on the lighthouse tonight, waiting for whoever shows up,” I said.

  “I’ll be following whoever comes out there and I’ll signal the Coast Guard,” he said. “Let’s keep it simple.”

  “It’s too late for that,” I said, and turned to walk back to my car. My plan wasn’t simple. Was it my fault if he had that impression because I had only told him one part of it? Well, yeah.

  He pulled back into his parking space. The lot was crowded and he was lucky no one had taken it. By the time I was in my Jeep his long legs had brought him to my window.

  “What are you saying?”
He didn’t wait for me to answer. “You started the rumor that we found evidence on the lighthouse. That’s all you have to do.”

  I shook my head. “I’ll be on the lighthouse waiting for whoever takes the bait and shows up. I thought you’d be there, too.”

  “There’s no need for that. I’ll stop whoever it is—and I think it will be Martin Ziegler—before he gets to the lighthouse.” I watched him walk off. He wasn’t stomping away. He was almost strolling. He thought he had won.

  “You have no idea how large the bay is, do you?” I yelled to his back. I detected a slight slowing of his pace. “‘Welcome to My World,’” I said. Partly because I figured an Elvis reference would annoy him, but also because that’s what the ocean, seventy percent of the planet, was.

  Chapter 36

  I was fuming, but that didn’t stop me from going to Billy B.’s condo. I was barely back to Savannah Road when my cell phone rang. It was John.

  “You really didn’t use that facial app on me?” he asked.

  “I really didn’t. You can tell me what you want me to know about where you came from and whatever else,” I said.

  “California,” he said.

  “Where in California?”

  “Hollywood.”

  “Lord,” I said.

  “Anything else you want to know?”

  “Uh, are you really a police chief or do you just play one on TV?”

  He laughed. “I’m for real.”

  “When it comes to your relationship with your father, are you more like Rick and Martin Ziegler or like Howard and David Fourie?”

  “I don’t have a relationship with him. I was ten years old the last time I saw him.” He sounded matter of fact, but I could hear the undertones of an old, scarred-over hurt. “He was my mother’s third husband and when they split up he divorced both of us.”

  “You seemed to have turned out great, so his loss.” I was wishing we weren’t having this conversation over the phone, but he had started it. “Are you close to your mother?”