Terrier Terror, page 1
An Allie Babcock Mystery
TERRIER TERROR
by
Leslie O’Kane
Book Seven in the Series
Copyright 2019 by Leslie O’Kane
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any additional resemblance to people living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.
All Rights are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the author.
Also by Leslie O'Kane
Allie Babcock Mysteries
Give the Dog a Bone
Woof at the Door
Of Birds and Beagles
Dog Drama
Terrier Terror
Life's Second Chances
Going to Graceland
Women's Night Out
Finding Gregory Peck
By the Light of the Moon
Molly Masters Mysteries
Death Comes eCalling
Death Comes to Suburbia
Death of a Gardener
Death Comes to a Retreat
Death on a School Board
Death at a Talent Show
Death Comes to the PTA
Short Story Featuring Allie Babcock
A Dog-Gone Christmas
The Body Shifters Trilogy
The Body Shifters Begins: Jake Greyland: A Short Story
Standalone
A Dog-Gone Christmas
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Also By Leslie O'Kane
Dedication
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Epilogue
HOW MY BOOK CLUB GOT ARRESTED! | Chapter 1 | Having a Ball...
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Also By Leslie O'Kane
Dedication
To Gus
You will always have a special place in my heart.
Books by Leslie O’Kane
Life’s Second Chances:
Going to Graceland
Women’s Night Out
Finding Gregory Peck
By the Light of the Moon
How My Book Club Got Arrested
Molly Masters Mysteries:
Death Comes eCalling
Death Comes to Suburbia
Death of a Gardener
Death Comes to a Retreat
Death on a School Board
Death in a Talent Show
Death Comes to the PTA
Allie Babcock Mysteries:
Play Dead
Ruff Way to Go
Give the Dog a Bone
Woof at the Door
Of Birds and Beagles
Dog Drama
Terrier Terror
Leslie Caine Domestic Bliss:
Death by Inferior Design
False Premises
Manor of Death
Killed by Clutter
Fatal Feng Shui
Poisoned by Gilt
Holly and Homicide
Two Funerals and a Wedding
Chapter 1
“We’ll get right to the point,” Kiki Miller said as she took a seat on our living room sofa. “We need your help, Baxter.” She was eying my boyfriend with unmasked appreciation. That was more than a little inappropriate under the circumstances, especially considering her father, Davis Miller, was sitting right next to her. Davis was the president of the Fort Collins Dog Club, which automatically put him in charge of the annual show this weekend. The show drew dog owners from the entire state of Colorado.
Baxter glanced at me. His half-smile was an acknowledgment that I’d been right about the reason for the Millers’ sudden need to pay us a house call today.
“Allie filled me in on your troubles last year in the Terrier division,” Baxter said. “But isn’t it a little late to be looking for someone to help you put out fires? The show opens this Friday.”
Kiki and her father exchanged glances. I got the feeling they were delivering their own silent I-told-you-so.
“Troubles” was an understatement. Last year, someone brought a female Airedale in heat to the benched competition (a show-dog term that means dogs are on display to the public throughout the event). Her crate and a male Airedale’s crate were subsequently shoved together, either by one of the owners, or by the determined dogs rattling their cages. A family became unwitting witnesses to the dogs mating and were now demanding restitution for post-traumatic stress of their children. Additionally, a seemingly endless stream of rancor, accusations, and various claims of damage to reputation and personal finances sprang forth between the two Airedale owners. A boycott of the event was then organized, and the majority of Terrier breeders in Colorado were drawn into the controversy.
“As the saying goes, Baxter,” Kiki finally replied with a big smile, “better late than never.”
“In this case, I think it’s too late,” Baxter countered. “If I’m suddenly thrown in the middle of this, I’m guaranteed to rub the managers and the judges the wrong way.”
“We realize you’d be in an awkward situation,” Davis Miller replied. “This year the competition will be unbenched, so we can avoid a repeat of last year’s incident. Originally, we decided to refrain from stirring the, er, boiling pot. We thought we’d merely incite negative attention by making public statements.”
“Our business-as-usual policy hasn’t worked,” Kiki interjected. “We’ve had way fewer Terrier entries than usual. The furor didn’t die down. We underestimated just how big this tempest-in-a-teapot could get. Valerie Franks is known as Colorado’s Terrier Tyrant—”
“Kiki,” Davis interrupted, making such a vigorous “stop” gesture that his hand was almost in front of her face. “No need to get into who did what.”
Kiki glared at her dad’s hand as he returned it to his lap. “First things first,” she said. “Baxter, we’re desperate. We’ll make it worth your while financially, and we’ll praise you to the sky to all of our club members. This will boost your career.”
The Millers stared at Baxter, awaiting his reply. I, in turn, stared at them. They made an interesting duo. If Davis was Kiki’s biological father, the glamorous blonde must have gotten her looks from her mother. He was a puffy-looking man with sagging jowls, wearing a brown suit and a brown-and-black plaid bowtie around the collar of his starched-white shirt. All told, he was not unlike a balding Saint Bernard. Kiki, on the other hand, was tall, thin, and immaculately coifed—more of a personified Poodle.
With Baxter still not responding, Davis said, “We unanimously agreed that, if we can publicize your taking over that entire branch of the conformation class—”
“By ‘unanimously,’ do you mean all of the staff?” Baxter interrupted. “Including whoever was overseeing the Terrier class?”
“The, er, person who had been in charge of the Terrier class resigned,” Davis replied.
Baxter peered at him with raised eyebrows. “Ah. So that explains why your offer is coming to me so late in the game.”
“His departure was a mutual decision,” Davis explained. “I’d told him we needed a steadier hand.”
“Right,” Kiki said, “and we’d already realized we should have ignored Cooper’s long history with the Fort Collins Club and hired you.”
“Cooper Hayes?” I asked, surprised. Cooper was a good presenter of dogs in local conformation competitions. He was always the first to volunteer his help and declined to take sides in a controversy. But he did not strike me as confident and decisive enough to want to be running a large division of the show, even during smooth-going times.
Ignoring me, Kiki leaned toward Baxter. “We also unanimously agreed that, due to the chaotic state of the Terrier class, plus our last-minute-itus, we need to give you complete autonomy.” She winked at Baxter. “Whatever you say goes.”
“But couldn’t that make him the fall guy for anything that goes wrong?” I asked.
Both Millers widened their eyes. “Well, er, I am still going to be Baxter’s supervisor,” Davis said. “By autonomy, we simply mean we won’t be micromanaging. We will have faith in Baxter’s skills in managing events such as this. His record speaks for itself.”
“If you’re willing to take charge,” Kiki quickly added, “Valerie Franks has agreed to enter her dogs.”
“She agreed?” I blurted out. Valerie had been keeping me—and in turn Baxter—up to speed with the goings-on for months now. “The Fort Collins Kennel Club voted to bar Valerie Franks’ dogs and Jesse Valadez’s dogs, due to their Airedales mating last year.”
Once again, the Millers exchanged glances. Kiki lifted her chin in a
“Valerie directed all of her clients to boycott the conformation show unless she was allowed to enter her dogs,” I retorted, “which is why your enrollment is so low.”
“Indeed,” Davis said. “But the point is, she’s now happy to enter her dogs. Jesse is still mulling the decision.”
“I’m working with Valerie’s Westie, Sophia, in the agility competition,” I said. “She told me she found it puzzling that nobody minded what dogs she or Jesse entered in agility. In fact, prior to the boycott, Jesse enrolled the very same Airedale from last year’s incident.”
“Because we’ve never held a benched tradition for the dogs in the agility,” Davis replied, spreading his arms as if his statement hadn’t begged the question: So? “Those dogs aren’t in it for their looks.” (Again, my thought was: So?)
“Also, her dogs have done remarkably well in that particular area, considering they aren’t Border Collies,” Kiki interjected. “We didn’t want to undermine the national attention she gets. But this is where you come in, Allie. Valerie specifically asked us to tell you that Jesse will enter his dogs in the conformation competition as well, on the condition that you will agree to handle his Airedale in the agility competition.”
“Valerie Franks told you that?” I asked, surprised. Valerie had not kept me informed with all the shows’ gyrations, after all.
Kiki nodded. “And I called Jesse myself to verify.”
I looked at Davis. “You just got through saying that Jesse was still mulling the offer to enter his dogs in conformation.”
“Right. Yes. Exactly. I meant that he was, er, waiting until you gave your answer to working with his Airedale in the ring.” Davis was squirming in his seat as he spoke and sending the occasional glare at his daughter. He couldn’t have made it more obvious that Kiki’s statement had come as a complete surprise to him.
“He typically handles his own dog in all agility trials,” Kiki said, “but he fell recently and broke his leg. That’s why he agreed to Valerie’s proposal to hire you. They wanted to even out the competition between them. Plus the top- notch agility handlers are already spoken for.”
“Oh. I see,” I said, less than gleefully.
Kiki chuckled. “No offense, Allie. Valerie told me you were aware of that.”
“I’m fully aware that I’m inexperienced at agility training.”
“Kiki, we’ve said all that needs to be said.” Davis handed Baxter a folded piece of paper. “This is as much as we can afford to pay for a week of your time. Assuming you start tomorrow, it includes all the overtime you’ll need, which is inevitable at this late juncture. We’ll give you both the opportunity to discuss our offer, but we need your answer first thing tomorrow morning.”
“Thanks, Mr. Miller,” Baxter said. “This is going to be tough to take on at this point. I haven’t had the chance to talk to the judge of the Terriers, or to see...” His eyes widened as he looked at the figure. He held the paper out to me, and my eyes widened as well. It was a generous sum. So generous that alarm bells were going off in my head.
“The judge, Julie Cameron, is beyond capable,” Davis said, “and it’s been slim pickings with the judges this year.”
“She was judging a competition in Greeley last year. For Labs, I think. Point is, she told me she owned a Bull Terrier, so that should eliminate her from judging Terriers.”
“That dog died three years ago,” Kiki snapped.
“Which doesn’t mean she won’t wind up judging dogs from her former dog’s breeder’s.
“That’s true. But, fortunately, keeping or replacing the judge falls in the realm of Baxter’s autonomy,” Kiki said.
I grimaced despite myself. This was feeling more and more fishy. I’d managed to have a peaceful eighteen months living out here in Dacona with Baxter. But the previous couple of years prior to my moving here had been a string of my canine clients leading me into murder cases. My experiences led me to develop a radar for potentially dangerous scenarios. The Fort Collins dog show now was dead center in my stay-away blip. I wasn’t even sure I could handle it if I wound up with yet another murder investigation swirling around me. Baxter and I were already stressed out by a lawsuit a cat-loving neighbor had brought against us, which forced us to close the kenneling portion of our business until the issue could be adjudicated. Baxter, however, welcomed challenges. A glint in his gorgeous, dark brown eyes spelled trouble.
“Allie and I will have to think it over and discuss this, of course.”
“I’ll have to speak to Jesse and meet with his dog, etcetera, before I can let you know if both Jesse and I agree to my handling his Airedale,” I said. “But I have to say already that the idea of handling both Valerie’s and Jessie’s dogs makes me uncomfortable.”
“They’re in different size categories,” Kiki said glibly.
“Yes, but dogs competing in the twenty-inch jumps usually win the overall prize. Valerie’s Westie winning Best in Agility last year was astonishing. She already warned me that she considers Jesse’s Airedale her biggest competitor for that prize.”
“Right. And with you as the handler for both, they will be equally unlikely of falling prey to biased judging.”
“Biased judging? This is a timed event. It’s not a matter of personal preferences. Even the faults are assigned according to measurable data. It isn’t the judging we have to worry about. It’s how Jesse and Valerie behave around each other and, more importantly, while each other’s dog is on the obstacle course.”
“Precisely,” Davis said, wincing and putting his hand on the small of his back as he stood. “And they are certain you will notice if one of them is distracting the other during the trials.”
Kiki rose as well and touched Baxter’s shoulder. “You have my number. Please let me know as soon as you can. It’s going to be such an honor to work with you.” Her smile faded a little as she turned toward me. “You, too, Allie. I really hope you’ll agree to help us.” She sent a longing glance in Baxter’s direction. “The more the merrier when it comes to us dog lovers.”
Chapter 2
While Baxter walked the Millers to the door, I remained seated. Kiki’s final remark had left me nonplussed. Maybe she hadn’t meant to imply she was going to try to vie with me for Baxter’s affection. On the bright side, her obvious attraction to the love of my life might be all that was setting off my alarm bells. That I could handle—she wasn’t going to be able to steal him from me—I just dreaded the possibility of this simmering animosity erupting into violence.
Baxter returned and gave me a big smile. “You were right. They gave me a generous offer.”
“Which I’m not sure you should accept. For one thing, Kiki has the hots for you.”
“I suspect she’s just a compulsive flirt.”
“Maybe so. But I’d prefer she be ‘compulsive’ with someone else.”
He chuckled. “No worries. If she puts her hands on me, I’ll step on her foot. That always works with dogs.”
“I wish we knew why they hang onto Cooper till the last possible moment. They haven’t taken the common-sense steps to assure Terrier owners that the judging is going to be impartial. Judges are not supposed to judge the class of dogs that they own themselves.”
“Right, but if Julie has a good reputation—”
“They easily could have hired another respected Terrier judge from Utah or Kansas, for example. And they could have courted other less-popular breeds of Terriers by offering lower entry fees. Instead, they claim to have struck some sort of mutual agreement to get rid of Cooper. If anything, that will have enflamed the situation. Furthermore, they didn’t allay my fear that they’re setting you up as the fall guy. Nothing’s to step them from throwing you under the bus when their lack of due diligence bites them in the rear.”
Baxter’s posture spoke volumes. His arms were crossed, and he was glowering at his feet. “I can help them set better boundaries. I’ll start by talking with the warring parties. Jesse and Valerie are already willing to agree to hire you as their handler, in order to keep the peace.”
