The Last Chance Matinee

by Mariah Stewart

  “Maybe you’d rather name her after one of the Kardashians?” Des all but cringed.

  “No. Her name is Buttons.” Nikki turned to her mother. “And it’s not common. It suits her.”

  “I like it.” Des sat on the front step, pleased that so far, so good.

  “I do, too. Good choice, Nikki.” Barney nodded.

  “It’s hard to believe she’s the same dog we dropped off at the clinic.” Nikki sat back to take a long look at Buttons. “She was so dirty, she was brown.”

  While Des was picking up the dog, Barney and Nikki had gone through the old quilts in the closet and found one that had been put away for mending that never happened. Des had placed the quilt in a corner of her bedroom and told the dog, “This is your bed, Buttons.”

  When the dog looked longingly at Des’s bed, Des told her, “Don’t press your luck, girlfriend.”

  The dog slept on the quilt all night and, once Des took her outside, promptly did her business in the yard as soon as she could scamper out.

  “She’s been well trained,” Barney observed as she slipped the dog a tiny bit of bacon at breakfast the following morning. “Someone took the time to teach her manners.”

  Nikki broke off another piece of bacon and held it up. “Sit, Buttons. Can you sit?”

  The dog sat, and was promptly rewarded with not only the bacon, but praise from all the humans in the room. When everyone moved onto the patio to sit in the warm morning sun, the dog followed.

  “If you’re still planning on going to the town council meeting tonight, I suggest you go early.” Barney stood at the top of the steps, on her way back in for a second cup of coffee.

  “I was talking to a guy at the Bullfrog on Saturday night, and he said the same thing, that the room filled up really fast. I really do need to find out what the town’s position is on rescue shelters.” Des was hoping they’d be as open-minded as Barney.

  “Who was that?” Barney asked.

  “His name was Seth. I never got a last name, but he’s tall. Muscular. Bald. Lots of tattoos.”

  “Oh, Seth MacLeod.” Barney leaned against the door frame. “You didn’t mention you’d met him.”

  “We just chatted for a moment at the bar.”

  “Nice boy, Seth. His daddy was mayor here in Hidden Falls. He passed a couple of years ago. Cancer. Just like Fritz, I guess. Diagnosed one day, gone practically the next.” Barney paused. “I don’t know which is worse. Having a lot of time but knowing your days are numbered, or having just a month or so and not so much time to think about it. Or just not knowing at all.”

  “I’d rather know,” Des said.

  “Not me.” Allie shook her head. “Keep me in the dark for as long as possible.”

  “How ’bout you, Cara?” Des asked.

  “I don’t think it makes any difference, frankly. You don’t have control either way. It is what it is.” She turned to Des. “Do you think I could take Buttons out for a walk? It’s a beautiful morning. I had my run, but I’d like to explore the town on foot while the weather is so nice. I promise not to wear her out.”

  “Sure. But keep in mind she’s just a little thing and won’t be able to keep up a fast pace with those short little legs. Her leash is on the back of one of the kitchen chairs. And don’t make her go too far. It might be too much for her.”

  “I’ll get it.” Nikki went into the house.

  “Geez, Des, it’s a dog, not a child.” Allie settled into one of the chairs with her coffee.

  “To some people, their dogs are their children,” Des told her.

  Allie muttered something so low under her breath that no one could hear.

  “Aunt Cara, can I go with you?” Nikki returned, leash in hand, and snapped it onto Buttons’s collar.

  “Sure. Anyone need anything from Main Street?” Cara looked around. Des and Barney both shook their heads. Allie yawned. “Okay, we’ll be back in a while.”

  Nikki held the leash, and she and Cara disappeared around the side of the house.

  A few minutes later, Barney went back inside. “I have some paperwork to do,” she said.

  Ten minutes later, Allie and Des went inside, too. They found Barney at her desk in the office.

  She had a stack of envelopes and her checkbook on the desktop and a small calculator in her hand.

  “Bill day,” she explained. “I have everything set up so that all my bills are due on the same day. That way, I only have to sit down and deal with it once a month.” Barney opened an envelope and glanced at the contents. “So do you know what you’re going to say at the council meeting?”

  “Sort of. But I’m not sure how to approach them. I mean, I don’t know any of these people. I don’t even know how to start.”

  Barney began to write a check. “Just think it out beforehand, because they don’t give you much time to speak.”

  “So you go sometimes?”

  Barney laughed. “I go every month, whether I need to or not. I want to know what’s going on in town, what people are thinking about, what they’re talking about.” A smile still on her lips, she signed the check. “I’m a die-hard busybody, Des, and I don’t give a damn who knows it.”

  “Why do you care what the law is, Des?” Allie looked up from the text she’d been typing. “It’s not like you live here.”

  “Actually, right now, I do live here. And even if I didn’t, there’s a problem and no one seems to know if there’s a ready solution. I want to find out.”

  “So what do you think you’re going to do about it? Build your own shelter?” Allie shook her head. “You won’t even be here a year from now to run it, so what’s the difference?”

  “How do you know where I’m going to be in a year when I don’t even know?”

  “Des, don’t tell me you’d consider staying here?” Allie scoffed. “There’s nothing for you here.”

  “Really? There’s a long and distinguished family history here, a legacy. Our family did a lot for this town, Al.”

  “Yeah, well, that was then. This is now.” Allie made a face and left the room.

  “I’m sorry, Barney.”

  “About what?”

  “That my sister is such an ass.”

  “Honey, if we were all responsible for the actions of our siblings, every one of us would be in trouble. Allie is who she is. I suppose she has her reasons.” Barney tapped her pen on the table. “She was such a sweet little girl. So happy, it made you feel good just to be around her. I can’t help but wonder what changed her.”

  “What was she like back then?”

  “She was a darling little girl with all the curiosity in the world and a happy smile. She was actually a lot like Nikki, now that I think about it. We had a great time together.”

  “Funny she doesn’t remember it.”

  “Not really. She was what, three at the time? There are photos—I forgot to look for them but I’ll try to remember to search while you’re still here. I won’t have time tonight.” She grinned at Des. “I’m going with you to the council meeting. You don’t think I’d let my niece walk into that den of vipers alone, do you?”

  At six thirty, Barney started to round up everyone who was going to the meeting. Des wanted to take Buttons, to make a point about the need for provisions for lost or abandoned animals, but Barney didn’t think it was a good idea because there was no way of knowing how long it would be before Des got a chance to speak. Nikki offered to go along and keep Buttons quiet and amused outside in case Des needed her, which meant that Cara would come along as well so she could go out and get Nikki and the dog should the time come. Allie went because there was “nothing else to do in this Podunk town on a Wednesday night.”

  “I’m driving, girls.” Barney grabbed her keys from the hook.

  “Are we going in Lucille?” Cara asked.

  “Is my name Bonnie Fletcher Hudson?” Barney headed out the door. “Meet me outside.”

  By the time everyone made it to the driveway, Barney had ba
cked Lucille out of the garage and was idling. Nikki climbed into the backseat with Allie, Des, and Buttons.

  “All in? Good.” Barney hit the gas.

  “Aunt Barney, I still haven’t found my seat belt!” Nikki squealed.

  “This car didn’t come with a middle belt. I think it was an option Mother never thought she’d use. Sorry, honey.” Barney looked in the rearview mirror. “Just hold on to something.”

  They arrived at the police station and Barney pulled up right out front.

  “Aunt Barney, the sign says, ‘No Parking,’ ” Nikki pointed out.

  “Well, let them try to tow me. I’m not parking out back where some yahoo can swing open their door and smack Lucille on the quarter panel.” Barney cut the engine and pulled the key from the ignition. “The parking spots in the lot are so close together, you can’t park anything bigger than a Mini Cooper back there. We go home with so much as a scratch on this thing, we’ll all be up all night.” Barney opened the driver’s door and slid the seat up to allow the backseat passengers to exit.

  “Why would we be up?” Nikki wanted to know.

  “Because your great-grandmother would be banging on the pipes all night to let us know she wasn’t pleased.”

  Nikki tapped her mother on the shoulder. “Does she mean a ghost?”

  “Sounds that way.” Allie slid out and held the seat for Nikki.

  “That’d be so cool,” Nikki said as she got out of the car.

  “So Nik, you’re going to hold on to Buttons until Cara comes out for you, right?” Des handed Nikki the dog’s leash. “And you’ll text me if you need us for anything?”

  “Right.” Nikki shortened the leash to keep Buttons from chasing after someone else who was arriving for the meeting.

  “I’ll stay outside with you, Nikki,” Allie told her.

  “You don’t have to. I’ll be okay out here.”

  “I don’t mind.” Allie watched Cara get out of the car, then took her place on the front seat. “I can just sit here and people watch. I’m sure it’ll be fascinating.”

  “Wish us luck,” Des said as she, Cara, and Barney went into the building.

  They had to pass the reception desk to access the long, narrow hall that led to the back of the station where the conference room was located. The hall was jammed, and the line to get into the room moved slowly. By the time Des, Barney, and Cara made it inside, there was only one seat left, which Des grabbed for Barney, who was happy to take it.

  “You two can stand right there against the wall until the president of the council—that would be Irene Pettibone—asks if anyone has anything to discuss. You raise your hand, and when you’re pointed to, they’ll pass you the microphone. Identify yourself, and then you begin. Don’t let anyone speak over you, by the way. Irene has a bad habit of not letting people finish if she isn’t interested. Ross Whalen is another one. He was appointed to the council after someone else passed away or he’d never be up there. No one would vote for him. He’s a self-serving, self-important SOB and he’s got a mean streak a mile wide.”

  “Why don’t you tell us what you really think of him, Barney?” Cara gave her aunt a nudge.

  “There isn’t enough time for me to tell you what I really think of that man.”

  At exactly seven, the six members of the council took their seats at a table that stretched across the front of the room. The meeting was called to order by Irene Pettibone, a woman in her fifties who wore her glasses at the end of her long straight nose, which was just as straight as her mouth. She looked over at the empty seat at the center of the table and said, “It appears the mayor is running late. He knows we start promptly at seven. We’re not going to wait for him.”

  After calling on the treasurer for her report, and the secretary, who read the minutes of the previous month’s meeting, she called on the chief of police to give his report. Ben had just stood when the crowd parted to allow a latecomer to enter the room. Des glanced over her shoulder and watched Seth—bald, tattooed Seth—pass behind her and head to the front of the room, where he took his seat behind the nameplate that said MAYOR.

  “Apologies to everyone. Chief Haldeman, you were about to give your report?”

  “Yes. Once again, we had no major crimes. Seven car stops—six of which resulted in speeding tickets. Three acts of vandalism.” Ben paused and looked at the council table. “All underage kids who thought it was funny to puncture tires on Main Street. They’d managed to damage six before they were spotted. Their parents are paying restitution to the car owners, and the boys will be doing community service for the next six months. One month for every tire.” He looked back at his notes. “There was an attempted break-in at the Bullfrog, but one of the patrol officers saw the guy.” Again he glanced up. “Probably not real smart to try to burglarize a building so close to the police station, especially when the officers are changing shifts. Other than that, it was a pretty quiet four weeks since my last report. Any questions?”

  As there were none, Irene said, “Thank you. Is there a report from the fire company?”

  Joe stepped forward to take the mic. “No fire calls. Two medical emergencies. No fatalities. Pretty much the same as last month.”

  “Thank you, Joe.” Irene adjusted her glasses. “Now, on to new business. Anyone?”

  A man in front raised his hand. After he identified himself, he went on a rant about the traffic light out on the highway malfunctioning. He was cut off and told that since it was a state highway, he should call the state authorities. Two other residents stood, one to announce a fund-raiser for the library, the other to discuss plans to clean up the main park in town. Finally, Irene asked, “Anyone else?”

  Des, whose hand had been in the air each time a speaker sat down, raised her hand again. Irene looked directly at her, then looked away.

  “If there’s no further new business . . .”

  “Excuse me, but do you not see this young woman’s hand?” Barney called out.

  “Do you have something to say?” Irene addressed Barney. “You’re going to have to identify yourself if you want to speak.”

  “Irene, you know damn well . . . Fine. Bonnie Hudson. This young woman has been trying to speak and you keep ignoring her.”

  “Only residents may bring new business issues.” Irene’s eyes focused on Des. “Are you a resident of Hidden Falls?”

  “Well, no, I—” Des began her reply.

  “Well, then . . .” Irene held out her hands as if to say, So much for that.

  Barney grabbed Des by the arm and whispered in her ear. To the council, Des said, “But I am a property owner, and as such, I believe I have the right to the floor.”

  Before Irene could respond, Seth said, “That’s correct. Someone pass her the mic. Go ahead, give your name and tell us what’s on your mind.”

  The microphone was in Des’s hands in seconds. “Thank you, Mayor MacLeod. My name is Desdemona Hudson. My sisters and I inherited the theater across the street from our father, Fritz Hudson.” Des cleared her throat. “It’s my understanding there are no ordinances that prohibit an animal shelter. Can you confirm that?”

  The members of the council all looked at each other blankly. Finally, Seth said, “I don’t believe there are any, Miss Hudson.”

  “So my next question is, how would one go about establishing a rescue shelter?”

  Again, there were blank stares all around.

  “You mean a kennel?” Ross Whalen—Barney’s “friend”—spoke up for the first time. “You need to be licensed to own a kennel.”

  “I don’t mean a kennel. I mean a shelter that would take in stray, abused, or abandoned animals and—” Des started to explain.

  “That’s not going to happen in Hidden Falls,” Whalen told her before she could finish her thought. “We’re not going to have our town become a dumping ground for every dog that someone lets out on the highway.”

  “What do you propose to do with them?” Des asked, earning a long, dark l
ook from Councilman Whalen.

  “What we do with them now. We send them to the county SPCA, right, Chief Haldeman?” Whalen turned to Ben.

  “Well, my first step is to see if we can find the owner. If I can’t, I try to find someone to take the animal, which is usually a dog.”

  “There, you see? We have a plan in place.” Irene dismissed Des by looking over the crowd and asking, “Anyone else tonight?”

  “Excuse me, Councilwoman Pettibone,” Seth intervened. “Miss Hudson, were you finished?”

  “No, I wasn’t. Thank you.” She turned to face Ben. “So if you can’t find anyone to take the dog in, where does it go, Chief?”

  Ben stood and faced her. “There have been times when I had to take the animal to the SPCA.”

  “Do you know what they do with animals that are dropped off there, Chief?” Des asked.

  “It’s my understanding they keep the animals for ten days before euthanizing them.”

  “Do you know what means they use to ‘euthanize’ the dogs?”

  Ben shook his head.

  “I’m sure they’re very humane,” an exasperated Irene said. “Now, if I may . . .”

  “ ‘Humane’? Shall I describe to you what ‘humane’ methods are used in most kill shelters, ma’am?” Des crossed her arms over her chest, not conceding the floor.

  “What’s behind all this?” Whalen all but yelled at Des.

  “Today we rescued three stray dogs that had managed to get into our theater. We took them to Doctor Trainor’s clinic and he’s keeping two of them overnight. We’re keeping the third one at my aunt’s house until we can find a permanent home for it, but the others probably will be released in the morning. If we had a shelter in town, I could take them there. But in the absence of such a place, I need to know what to do with them.”

  “Well, I suppose you could turn them over to Chief Haldeman and he’ll find homes for them.” Irene addressed the crowd, an empty smile on her face. “Anyone here want a dog?”

  There were no takers.

  “As I said, you can turn them over to the chief tomorrow and he can see if he can place them, and if not, he’ll take them to the SPCA.”

  “Where they’ll be ‘humanely’ euthanized if no one claims them.” Des tried but failed to keep the emotion from her voice.