Terrier Terror, page 11
“Are you sure you want to do that? I would think presenting dogs with a less-secure cast would really pose a risk to the bone break. Did you tell your doctor about the leader you’d be using? And that you’ll be handling big Terriers?”
“Yes. He said it isn’t a problem.”
Drat. I wasn’t going to get anywhere by sidestepping the matter of his being a murder suspect. “Have you hired a lawyer, I hope?”
He hesitated. “They’re so expensive! I can’t begin to pay the upfront money!”
“But the money is irrelevant when you look at what’s at stake.”
“I know. I know. But I’m innocent. If they can just find the culprit, I’ll be exonerated, and I won’t have to hire a criminal attorney. But that’s also why I need to get as much cash together as I can, as fast as I can. I have to pick up as many canine clients to present as possible.”
Whoops. So much for my talking him out of going to the show. “Shouldn’t your bottom line be to stay out of the lime-light?”
“I wish I could. But, again, I’ve got to earn money. In fact, that’s something I need to talk to you about. It’s a long story, but the Wheaton you were going to show is actually Jesse Valadez’s Airedale.”
“Jesse just now explained that mix-up to me, and he—”
“Would you mind terribly if we switched that back? Let me be the presenter?”
I rolled my eyes. This wasn’t going well at all. I stared out the windshield at a cottonwood tree being buffeted by the wind. “Gee, I don’t know, Cooper. I mean, my loyalties are first and foremost with Baxter. He’s managing the Terrier Class, as you know. I want to do whatever will let that group go smoothly.”
“Of course, but I think—”
“Cooper, the thing is, people at the show are going to be suspicious of you until your name is cleared.” I felt like a heel, but I continued. “You’ll be working with a tender arm that could break a second time. Is the few hundred dollars you’ll make showing some dogs really worth the risk?”
“Yes, Allie. Yes, it is. I am innocent.” He cursed. “I had nothing to do with the murder. I tried to save his life, for crying out loud! I can’t control the rumor mill or what people think about me. I’ve never had a single unsatisfied customer, or problems in a dog show. Now all of a sudden I’m Son of Satan. By trying to save a man’s life.”
“I’m sure that’s incredibly difficult for you.” A pickup truck sped past me.
“It is. But if you’re set on the idea of presenting Eeyore yourself, I’ll be fine. It’s just that he’s a magnificent dog...and I want the honors.” He paused. “I have so much more experience than you do. And I think Eeyore is going to be Best in Show. I need those kinds of credits on my resume.”
“Plus, I’m going to look almost comically small leading him around the ring. But Jesse seemed pretty happy about my showing Eeyore. Maybe that’s the visual Jesse wants the judge to see, and it’s ultimately his decision.”
“True.” He sighed. “You and I bring different skills to the table. In fact, I’ve been thinking. Once this murder gets solved and the murderer is in jail, maybe you and I can team up professionally. Put together a multi-purpose dog-care business.”
Team up professionally? Where on earth did he get that idea? “That’s pretty much what Baxter and I are already doing, Cooper.”
“I didn’t realize that. I thought you were a dog therapist and Baxter was an event manager...and also built customized dog houses.”
“We also run a kennel with a dog-training option. Though that’s on hold for the time being.”
“I don’t suppose you’d be interested in getting another business partner then.”
“I’m afraid not.” I was a little put off by the turn our conversation had taken. Here he was short on cash, and Marsala was claiming he’d stolen her diamond ring. My stomach was in knots, and I hated myself for what I felt like I needed to say next. “I heard something about you having some trouble last year, too. With Marsala.”
There was a long pause. Though I now felt a touch of guilt over my cowardice in bringing this up on the phone, I was glad we weren’t face-to-face.
“Allie,” he said, his voice flat. “I did not steal her diamond ring. I had told my then-wife that I’d forgotten my credit card and needed to buy enough gas to get home. She said to get it from her wallet in the locker room. She gave me the key. She didn’t remember the number, just that it was in the second row from the top, so I was checking each locker with her key when Marsala arrived. She saw me go from one locker to my wife’s locker and take money. I didn’t even know she was there until she finally spoke up.”
“Didn’t your ex-wife back you up on that?”
“Eventually,” he growled. “At first, though, she lied and said I’d taken the key from her without her knowledge and had stolen money from her purse. Let’s just say the ending of our marriage wasn’t easy or kindhearted for either of us. We got to the bottom of it, eventually, but I allowed the police to search me and my car and anything else they could think of. They didn’t find it because I didn’t take it.”
“That’s got to be hard for you to swallow.”
“Tell me about it. Allie. I need this job. I need to prove to myself that things can be normal again. That I haven’t wasted my life. That I’m still a good person.”
I battled a lump in my throat. I didn’t know for certain who was telling the truth, but it was clear Cooper was in emotional pain. “I need to talk this over with Jesse.” Not to mention Baxter. “The Terrier-class competition doesn’t begin until Saturday. I’ll call you tomorrow morning. Okay, Cooper?”
“Sure, Allie. Talk to you then. Goodbye.”
“Wait, Cooper. We should discuss this with Jesse together.” He gave no answer. I glanced at the screen. Cooper had ended the call. His voice had been calm and pleasant. Yet I couldn’t shake my certainty that he had been struggling to tamp down very real desperation.
Chapter 13
I drove home and stayed in my car in our driveway while I screwed up my courage to call Eleanor. Considering the status of our communication to date, I wouldn’t be surprised if she had blocked me. The fact that she was a dog owner herself had truly thrown me. Raising a show dog was a venture that took enormous amounts of time and energy, as well as not-insignificant amounts of money. If nothing else, becoming part of the dog-show circuit truly required being a dog lover. Maybe Eleanor was so singularly devoted to her own pets that she wanted the world to adore her dog only when it was in a showring. She certainly thought nothing of preventing a neighbor from housing other people’s dogs. If so, she really should have thought twice before buying a brand-new house with a back yard that shared our pre-existing fence. I dialed, then crossed my fingers—even though I wasn’t sure what to wish for.
“Allida?” she answered, sounding as if she was stunned at my calling her.
“Yes. Hi, Eleanor. I’m calling on behalf of the Fort Collins Dog Show.” My voice sounded squeaky too me, thanks to my nerves; I expected her to curse at me, which was what happened the last time I’d called. “I assume you already heard the terrible news about Terrington Leach.”
“Of course I did. He was supposed to show Minnie Pepper Cocoa.”
I paused to squelch a nervous chuckle at the dog’s name. It sounded like a menu item at Starbucks. “Right. Are you still planning on showing...Minnie Pepper Cocoa this weekend? If so, have you found another handler?”
“Yes to the first question, no to the second. You aren’t volunteering for the job, are you? I thought you were just a dog trainer. Do you do that sort of thing?”
“It’s not my forte, but I know the basics. I’m showing two dogs in the Terrier division. I’m also handling two other Terriers at the agility trials.”
“Oh.”
There was a pause.
“I didn’t realize you owned a dog in addition to your cat.”
“Yes, well, Minnie doesn’t go into our back yard, or anything. He considers our enclosed patio to be his domain, though. I keep him separated from the cat so they don’t get into fights and risk his getting scratched. And I give him exercise every morning at his breeder’s exercise pen. Its Astro-Turf is well-maintained. Minnie is pure white. His feet get stained easily.”
“I see.” I’d been imagining that he was black or brown from his name. Not to mention a female.
Again, there was silence. I decided to wait her out. “Are you offering because you think it will make me withdraw my complaint about your dog-kennel business?”
“No. I was asked by the show’s administration to help out. I was specifically given your name by Kiki Miller. I can assure you that I will do my absolute best when I’m in the ring with Minnie, er, Pepper Cocoa.”
“Huh.”
Another lengthy pause.
“I’m home right now, but I’ll be heading back to Fort Collins in another hour or so,” I told her. “Would you like to bring Minnie over to meet me? We can discuss whether or not you’d consider my offer to be his presenter.”
Another pause. “I’d prefer you to come to my house.”
She was probably afraid of getting dust and whatnot on MPC’s pristine coat at my home. “Okay. I can come over there in half an hour. Would that work?”
“I can make it work.”
“Great. I’ll see you then.” I hung up and tried to assess the situation. This was a woman who’d brought a lawsuit against Baxter and me that was literally destroying our finances. Surely my having a conversation about handling her dog in the ring couldn’t make things any worse. Establishing even a slim connection between us would have to lead to a modicum of respect, if not camaraderie. Or maybe Eleanor would be able to find a more experienced conformation handler than I, despite the massively short notice.
I had a whole twenty minutes to relax with my own dogs—while I chatted on the phone with my mom. She had called me to see if I was okay, after hearing about the Fort Collins Dog Show and Terrington’s murder. Mom owned a Collie named Sage, and her husband of less than two years had brought a Golden into the family. She seemed happier than she’d been in years. So was I, come to think of it. And yet, an instant after I’d had that thought, I felt the stab of missing my darling Shepherd, Pavlov.
By the time I got off the phone, I only had a minute to give the dogs a hug and walk over to my neighbor’s home. I took a moment to shore myself up, then knocked on Eleanor’s door. She opened the door, and my focus instantly went to the white, meticulously groomed Toy Poodle she was holding against her chest. The little guy was flat-out adorable, with those dark eyes and cute little pink nose. Truth be told, I detest the classic Poodle cut and its pom-pom balls of fur, but there’s no point in enrolling a Poodle in an AKC competition with any other cut. The cut itself was considered part of the standard to which the dog had to conform.
“This must be Minnie Cocoa Pepper,” I said with a big smile.
“Minnie Pepper Cocoa,” she swiftly corrected.
“Oh, right. I’m sorry.”
She stepped aside, and I entered her small foyer as the glass door swung shut behind me.
“Do you want to hold him?” Eleanor asked.
“Of course I do,” I answered honestly.
She passed him to me with the tenderness of handling an infant. “Hi, Minnie Pepper Cocoa,” I said lovingly. “I’m so sorry I got your name wrong.” I decided I’d call him “Pepper” in my head, simply because that was my favorite of the three names.
He immediately gave me one lick on my chin and settled into my arms.
Eleanor stamped her foot. “Oh, crap. I was afraid of that. He likes you.”
“Um, sorry about that. I’m a dog person.”
“I realize that,” she snapped. “It’s just that I honestly and truly don’t want every Tom, Dick, and Harry’s mutts running around spreading germs and things from the other side of our fence! Furthermore, the AKC doesn’t allow anyone to show neutered or spayed dogs, and I don’t want to worry about Minnie Pepper tunneling under our fence whenever one of your kenneled dogs goes into heat. Plus, there really is a chance that one of the dogs would attack and kill my cat. That’s precisely what happened to Purrball two years ago. It broke my heart! That’s one of the reasons my husband and I decided to move here.” She paused. “That is, up until things got so awful, and we divorced. I moved here by myself. I couldn’t stand being in that house, passing by the cat-killer police dog every time I left the house.” She started to cry. “There you were. You and your German Shepherd. And my poor little kitty going onto your property all the time.”
I was thrown by her unexpected soliloquy. Not to mention her tears. “Actually, Eleanor, Pavlov died, six months ago. She had a spinal disease that Shepherds are prone to. She was only nine years old.”
“Your dog died when he was only nine years old?” Eleanor said, staring at me with soft, tearful eyes.
“Yes. It broke my heart.”
“Of course it did! Just like my heart broke, when Purrball died.”
“That was probably even harder for you to handle. At least my pet died of natural causes.” To my dismay, I started crying myself. She handed me a tissue, and a minute or two later, we chuckled in embarrassment at our sudden outburst of raw emotions. It was one thing to mourn with one’s friends; quite another to mourn with someone who’d become something of a foe.
Eleanor heaved a sigh as she wiped away the last of her tears. “Oh, Allida. I’ve been such an idiot. Harboring anger at you because of my personal history. Let’s just...start with you being Minnie’s handler this weekend, and afterward, I’ll host a gathering with our neighbors and hash out what we can do to make us all happy with your kennel and your dog clients.”
“That would be wonderful,” I gushed. I didn’t know what to even think about her worries of airborne germs, considering she allowed her cats to roam the neighborhood. But Baxter and I could dig a deep trough under the fence and install eighteen-inch wide chicken wire. “I do have to tell you honestly that I don’t have much personal experience in the ring at conformation competitions. As a teenager, I used to show my dogs at the annual fair in Longmont. I’ve done similar event a couple of time since then, and I’m filling in to show a couple of Terriers, like I said, but that’s about it.”
“You’re taking over other dogs from Terrington’s schedule?”
“Yes, plus a second dog-handler broke his arm.”
“Really? How awful. It sounds like the show is a bit...cursed.”
“It kind of does.”
She grinned at me. “Where are my manners? Come in and sit down, Allida. I’ll get us something to drink and some snacks. We can chat for a while. Okay?”
“Sounds great.” I looked down at Pepper, who gave me another quick doggie kiss.
Eleanor excused herself to get us some decaf and cookies in the kitchen. It was all I could do not to jump for joy. Regaining our kennel business was a huge deal for our finances. So was knowing that we were able to return to peace and harmony in the burgeoning neighborhood. By the grace of God, a path had suddenly appeared to achieve precisely the two things that had been cratering our lives of late.
All we needed now was for Eleanor McCarthy to have nothing whatsoever to do with Terrington’s murder. Surely that wasn’t too much to ask.
Chapter 14
Early the next morning, one of Valerie’s assistants was leaving just as I was climbing her porch steps. We greeted each other, and she held the door. “Valerie is in the grooming station in the basement,” she said. “She’s expecting you. Just go on down. The second door on the right.”
I went down the steps. Constantine, Valerie’s Best-of-Show Westie, came trotting up to me. Valerie was standing with her back to me, dabbing something onto Sophie’s fur. “Is that Milk of Magnesia?” I asked.
Valerie jumped at my voice. She turned to face me with her hand on her heart. “Allida! I didn’t hear you come in! Are you trying to give me a heart attack?”
“No, sorry. Ann let me in.”
I looked at the label on the bottle. It was indeed Milk of Magnesia. She followed my gaze.
“Yes. Dabbing this on my Westies’ fur hides their facial stains...the tear-duct markings and dark fur around their mouths.”
“Almost as good as White Out,” I replied.
“And not poisonous or permanent,” she retorted. She seemed less than thrilled to have me witness her little tricks.
I read the label of the spray can on the table next to her: Fur So White. “Does this paint your dogs white?”
“No, it doesn’t paint them. It’s just a nontoxic powder that you work into their fur. It’s no worse than sprinkling talcum powder.” She put her hands on her hips. “Everybody does this, you know. It’s not cheating any more than how Miss America contestants wear makeup. It’s expected. It’s what one does when one wants to win.”
I held up my palms. “I’m just curious. I’m not judging.” Well, I was a tad judgmental. It wasn’t as if the dogs themselves were applying makeup. A better analogy would be a car salesman touching up rust spots with paint.
I tried to keep my mouth shut and leave it at that, but I still had a burning question. “It’s just that...Sophie isn’t even enrolled in the conformation competition. Her appearance doesn’t factor into an agility contest.”
Valerie snorted. “Surely you’re savvy enough to realize that most of us professionals enter dog shows to get new customers for our upcoming crops of puppies. Those are the people who care enormously about the state of a dog’s coat. Thanks to Jesse causing last year’s travesty, my back orders dwindled. Typically customers must wait two years. Now it’s a year and a half. This agility contest has to garner as much positive attention as possible.”
“I understand.”
She gave me a skeptical look, but then said, “You’ll see these same products being used in the grooming room throughout the competition. If you care to look for yourself, that is. Just don’t creep up on anyone there, like you did to me just now. They might be holding a sharp pair of scissors.”
