“I can do that,” I said. I picked her up. She scrambled to get out of my arms and into Felicity’s. I wanted to talk about my training Pippa, but not while said dog was scrambling to get away from me.
“Let me take her,” Baxter said.
I took him up on his offer. Pippa struggled to get out of his arms, too, as Felicity brushed past us.
“Let me get the door for you,” I said, striding toward the door ahead of her.
“Thanks, Allida,” she said a bit brusquely.
A piece of light-brown-plaid fabric amid her armload of clothing caught my eye.
“Wait.” I grabbed at the shirt. “Is that John’s shirt? With the torn-off pocket?”
A look of alarm flashed across her features. “No,” she said, just as I could see for myself that this was some miniature shirt that was likely tailored to fit Pippa. “I made John that shirt for use in the play. He decided it was too casual for the character, but he liked it and wanted to keep it.”
“You make duplicates of your costumes, tailored for the understudies, right? Was John’s shirt with the ripped pocket the only one you made?”
“Yeah. This was back before Hammond took the role. I make Pippa’s costumes with my left-over fabric.”
“Was the pocket on his shirt just basted in place?”
“Probably, since it was supposed to be strictly a costume.” She turned and continued walking. “I’ve got to keep going. This is starting to get heavy.”
I wondered why she was taking Pippa’s shirt—which, unlike John’s, had not been worn since I’d arrived—with the costumes from last night’s laundry fiasco. Maybe I was being unduly suspicious, but the only answer that came to me was, now that this particular fabric had become evidence in a crime scene, she wanted to take this opportunity to remove it from the premises.
I trotted after her. “Let me get the car door for you, too.”
“Thanks,” she said again, this time almost surly. She gave me a frosty, “Excuse me,” and rounded the car to get behind the wheel.
Hoping to learn that John was innocent, I wanted to get to know Felicity better. For that matter, if John was guilty, I sure as hell didn’t want him to go free and keep the wonderful dog that he’d essentially stolen from his murder victim. “Felicity, I’d like to work with you and Pippa on training her how to fill the role of Blue in John’s play.”
She stopped and looked at me, clearly delighted at the notion. “You’d be willing to do that?”
“Absolutely.”
“That would be wonderful! I’m barely making ends meet, but I’d be happy to make a nice outfit for Pavlov in return.”
I managed not to grimace at the notion of putting a costume on my German Shepherd. Not to be a dog snob, but I was not into dressing dogs in people clothes. Especially not large dogs who’d been bred as working dogs. German Shepherds frequently worked in canine crime units, for heaven sakes!
“Thanks, but I’m not entitled to any payment from you. Valerie already considers training Blue’s understudy as part of my job here.”
“Even so, I’d prefer to consider this a friendly exchange of our skills, okay?”
“Sounds like a win-win,” I said. “We can get together as soon as you’re back from the cleaners, or tomorrow morning.”
“Now’s good for me. It will only take me twenty minutes to drop the clothes off at the laundromat.”
“Great.” In my mind’s eye, I was imagining my noble Pavlov wearing a multicolored clown costume. She would never forgive me. And Baxter would be teasing me to no end.
“I’ll see you soon.”
Chapter 17
When Felicity returned, Baxter told me he had some work to do and would return in a couple of hours with Pavlov and Flint.
Once again using the large room upstairs to practice in, Felicity and I grabbed a pair of foot stools from the prop room to use as pedestals for Pippa. We placed them on opposite sides of the room. We also found some rubber placemats to serve as Pippa’s first, second, and third targets. Felicity joked that we should put the placemats in a diamond shape and call them “bases” in honor of her uniform, so I was right about the Yankees stripes. Maybe she’d make a Colorado Rockies shirt for Pavlov.
Truth be told, Felicity was number one on my list of suspects. She had every right to be vindictive toward John for his treatment of her and had the most to gain by setting up John to take the rap for a murder that she had committed. Surprisingly though, I found myself really enjoying Felicity’s company. Most of our affinity was due to Pippa’s delightful company rubbing off on us. Pippa was truly a hoot. During a sit-stay command, she did a hilarious inching of her butt toward us whenever we looked away; if this actually was baseball, she’d be great at stealing bases.
The adage you can’t teach an old dog new tricks is patently false. What is true is that, unless you change a dog’s owner, you cannot change an old dog’s disposition. Pugs are adventurous, happy animals. I helped Felicity to refine a “dance” command, in which she raised up and turned in circles on her hind legs. It was adorable, if impractical. “Blue” had no scenes in which he or she turned in circles. For Pippa to become a suitable Blue stand-in, she had to learn how to go from Point A to Point B on command, which was best accomplished with pedestal-to-target training. Putting the dog on a small pedestal cuts down on her distractions so that she focuses solely on her trainer’s command—and the treat that obeying the command will earn her. Pedestal training is especially valuable with a less food-motivated dog that often prefers to wander off and do her own thing, despite the promise of a biscuit; the pedestal makes those dogs think twice before walking away. Pippa was food-motivated, and we made quick progress with her.
After an hour or so, we decided to take a coffee break, and we chatted about how smart and amiable Pippa was. “She’s doing great with the targets, Allie. I’m really impressed. We can’t put the placemats on our stage, though,” Felicity said. “What did you use for Pavlov on Sunday night?”
“I put an X of masking tape on each of Blue’s three targets. They were subtle enough that the audience wouldn’t see them, but Pavlov could both see and smell the tape.”
“Wow. Good idea.”
I shrugged. “It was a short-cut. We didn’t have time to train Pavlov to memorize an unmarked target on stage.”
“Exactly. I wish we’d consulted with you for training Pippa. Almost all of the rehearsal time went to Flint, of course, so when we threw Pippa into the role that second night, we had the actors surreptitiously drop treats where they needed her to be.”
“At which time the audience saw her gobble them down, and then she would sniff and bark at their hands.”
“Well, sure, that’s exactly what she did. But again, the audience loved her. She was hilarious.”
“It must have been hard on the actors, though. They would have to stay in character and deliver their lines while attempting to lure a dog this way and that. And not to beg for more treats the whole time.”
“That’s what John said. Or rather what he yelled at me.”
“Why didn’t he use a more suitable dog as the understudy? There are several ranches within a fifty-mile radius. There must be dozens of herder-breed dogs.”
She crinkled her nose. “Well, that’s kind of my fault. John felt guilty for dumping me and for stealing my idea for the play. He had plied me with the idea of having Pippa as Blue’s Underdog.”
“It doesn’t sound like that idea lasted long.”
“Yeah. Pippa’s a little scamp. She was never going to act like a herder.”
“Oh, I don’t know. All dogs try to herd to some extent. They want their packs to stay together, and they don’t want non-pack members to usurp them or impede on their packs.”
“I guess that’s true.” She smiled at me. “We should get back to work.”
By the end of our session, we successfully used our audio equipment on Pippa; we clipped the earbud onto her collar. She was able to go to the
correct target on command, albeit waiting there eagerly for a treat. It was an excellent start. I also got her to growl on cue, when I made the growling sound—rolling my tongue.
“How long do you think it’ll take me to train her to hit her targets?”
“If you work with the footstools and placemats every day for at least fifteen to twenty minutes, I’d say a week. Maybe you could even get her to strictly use masking-tape targets by then.” I paused. “You’d have to work with the script and all of the other tricks that Blue does, though. You have another fifteen tricks to teach her. Even I’m starting to learn the script.”
“Me, too. Though that shouldn’t be hard, considering I wrote almost half of them.”
I was surprised, and a little alarmed. “Are you serious? You wrote half the script?”
“I told you that before.”
I shook my head. “You told us that John purchased the first draft, and that you’d written it with Blue barking so loud, she drowned out Sally’s lines.”
Felicity furrowed her brow. “I guess it’s fair to say I wrote forty percent of the play. After John bought it, he’d constantly get me to run lines with him and make suggestions. I came up with a lot of the lines for him.”
I studied her features. On a scale of one to ten, I’d give her only a three in terms of her anger toward John, which seemed off to me. “Didn’t that make you furious that he took full credit?”
“Well, the thing is, he contrived a method for me to profit from the play, too, if it’s successful and is picked up by lots of theaters. He wrote up a contract for me. Just like he did for Sam. If a theater hires me for costumes, they get an excellent price and simply have to provide the actors’ measurements. I can make their costumes remotely and continue working here at the Creede Playhouse.”
“Is that common knowledge? Does Valerie know about your contract?”
“No, we agreed to keep it quiet, just in case Valerie had any objections, which is unlikely. Now the issue is whether my contract is worth the paper it’s written on.”
I didn’t know how to respond and remained silent.
Felicity snorted. “Boy, I’ll tell you what, though. John’s private funders must be loving this. They’ll get their money back and then some.”
“Because the show is sold out?” I asked.
“Not only is it sold out, Valerie extended the season.”
“You mean the additional week she tacked on?”
“Not just that. She created a whole new late-fall, weekends-only season at the theater. Part of the ticket costs for the weekend performances are considered donations to the theater. None of this cast will be featured, though, not even Flint. We held a fundraiser the week before the show opened in which donors paid to have their dog trained for a week and then perform as Blue.”
“Who were they planning would train the donors’ dogs? Sam?”
“Yes. So I guess they’ll have to hire someone now. John had no problem training Flint, but the next Blue is going to be a poodle.”
“That could be a challenge. Poodles are typically not especially food-motivated.”
“We’ll have to muddle through with our regulars. Humorous adlibbing has always worked really well for us. I’m sure you’ll enjoy the Boomtown performance tonight, if you get the chance to see it.”
“We’re planning on it.”
“Good. I’ve got the okay to add more improvisational shows, once Valerie moves on, and I take control of the theater.”
“Valerie’s leaving?”
“After next year. The owners thought I should have an experienced theater manager to mentor me this year, so they brought in Valerie. Then next year, I’ll hire someone to take my place as head costume designer. But this year, I’m shadowing Valerie, as much as she’ll let me.”
“That means you’ll be able to choose the shows you want to stage. You would have been able to select Good Dog, Blue!, even if Valerie had turned it down this season.”
She averted her gaze. “Yeah, I kind of lost out on earning some money from a sure thing.”
“To be honest, Felicity, if I were in your shoes right now, I’d have been vindictive as all hell.”
She gave me a sly grin. “Oh, I had my share of vindictive behavior. Karen was supposed to be the other woman. John switched Karen and Sally’s roles once Sally and he became a thing.”
“Why?”
“Probably because Sally asked him to. Though it is possible that he could see Sally was truly better in the bigger, showier role.”
That had to have been painful for Karen. “How long were they playing each other’s roles?”
“Just a little over a week. Only in the rehearsals, of course.”
“Was that confusing for Flint when they switched parts?”
She shrugged and averted her eyes. “A little.”
I waited. When she didn’t say anything, I asked, “Is this where the ‘vindictive’ part kicks in?”
“Sort of. But keep in mind that, again, Flint was just being used in rehearsals, and this was long resolved by the time you came into the picture. It had nothing to do with Flint’s problems with his performances and was utterly unrelated to John’s poisoning and Sam’s death.”
“Go on,” I said, already assuming she was scenting the costumes to confuse Flint.
“Karen and I wore the same size. So I’d make the costumes and wear them when I was home alone. I’d even...rub them on Flint. Which was highly inappropriate, back when she was playing the other woman. I’d put John’s scent on articles of Hammie’s costumes from some personal items of John’s. I’m the costumer, and it was common sense to further encourage Flint to cozy up to costumes worn by his stage parents.”
“Except you scented the other-woman’s clothes,” I said.
“Right. Once they switched roles, I started rubbing Sally’s costumes on Flint and me. I did that in their rehearsals, and I laundered them before the premier.”
“Border Collies are smart enough to identify people in more ways than their scents. Flint would know he was always supposed to herd Greg and Karen away from his humans and toward each other.”
“Right. So my trickery only indirectly led to the troubles on stage. The week before the season began, Sam caught me rubbing one of Sally’s skirts on my legs. He got a kick out of it. He told me he was Flint’s rightful owner, and that he hoped one day to convince John to let him train another dog for the role and keep Flint for himself.”
“Uh, oh. Are you saying you were behind wrecking Flint’s stage performances?”
She grimaced. “Partly. Sam and I joined forces.”
I stared at her, stunned. Maybe she had put Sam up to ruining John’s play and poisoning him.
Chapter 18
My thoughts raced. Perhaps I should have been angry on John’s behalf, but prank-playing was so trivial compared to murder. Felicity was playing patty-paws with Pippa; the Pug was wriggling on her back, making cute little grunty noises. Her dandling with her dog allowed her to keep her eyes averted. She was blushing.
“Did you tell the police that?”
“Yes. But...only after Sam was murdered. I was afraid to tell the sheriff the truth when he interviewed me about the poisoning. I was scared it would incriminate me. I mean, here it was, a poisoned sharp tack sewn into an alteration that I made just an hour before John went on stage. I explained that to Sheriff Caulfield once Sam was killed. I’m probably still the top suspect for the attempted murder. I didn’t do it, yet they can always press charges. John’s probably trying to convince them I’m guilty. His motives are lessened if he convinces the police he didn’t think Sam was the one who tried to kill him.”
“Did Sam try to poison him?”
She grimaced a little. “He told me he didn’t.”
“Did you believe him?”
“Not really.” She rubbed her forehead. “But like I said, Allie, I just wanted to mess with John’s head. I never would have teamed up with Sam if I’d known that Sa
m wanted to poison John.”
“We’ll probably never know either way,” I said. Now that Sam was dead, if someone else was behind the poisoning, he or she would keep their mouth shut. I wasn’t even sure how seriously the authorities would be motivated to investigate other suspects beside Sam, now that the victim was under arrest for his murder.
“My point is, though,” Felicity said, “now that someone killed Sam, I knew I had to come clean immediately. I told the sheriff all about the arrangement we had.”
“Was Sam using a dog whistle?”
“Sort of. It was a squeaker toy he tucked inside the hem of his sock. All he had to do was squeeze his ankles together as he was standing to make it whistle.”
“Huh. It looked to me like the sound was coming from the audience, not from backstage.”
“Yeah. He moved it after the second performance...when Pippa was starring. Though I have to say, I doubt he ever used it with Pippa on stage. She was already struggling. Sam didn’t want John to get wise to him. Then I saw Sam repairing a cushioned seat in the auditorium. At least that’s what he told me he was doing. After Flint’s second bad performance, I told him flat out that he either stop with all the dog whistles, or I was blaming everything on him.”
“I see.” I wondered if I was being played. It wasn’t as if Sam could speak for himself. Maybe the squeaker toy had been entirely her doing all along. Furthermore, I was fairly confident that Pavlov and Flint had been annoyed by the dog whistle during the two performances to date in which I’d been cuing Blue.
Felicity glanced at her watch, then rose. “I have to go pick up the costumes from the laundromat and check with the repair man. Hopefully our machines will be up and running.”
The moment she left, this time choosing to take Pippa with her, I called Baxter and told him what Felicity had said about a squeaky toy being hidden in a seat’s upholstery. He rushed over. After getting Valerie’s permission, he began to search the seats one at a time, from front to back rows.
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