Part 7 (2/2)
”Melinda, you'll be here Sunday, correct? We really need you. Your Bow Wow Boutique is widely respected and enormously popular. It's been a huge draw for the event.”
Normally, I was immune to flattery, but I couldn't deny the warmth of satisfaction that washed over me. ”Sure, I can do that. Not a problem.”
He squeezed my shoulder gently. ”Wonderful. I believe I've talked to almost everyone now, and they've all agreed to come back.” He nodded, satisfied with his accomplishment. ”I think we'll do okay. I may be short a judge. Would you mind filling in if that proves to be the case?”
”Whatever you need.” I had no idea what I'd agreed to, but his enthusiasm was contagious.
He smiled broadly. ”That's what I wanted to hear.”
”Any news on Zippy? Will he race?” Darby asked.
Hagan's brows furrowed. ”That's not up to me. That's for Gia, Mrs. Eriksen, to decide. But I don't see why he wouldn't. He's our big name, you know.”
”Did you know Richard well?” I asked.
He smiled sheepishly. ”This is my first year as Chairman of the Board, but he seemed like a decent chap.”
”We should have a moment of silence for him,” Darby suggested.
Hagan nodded in agreement. ”That's very thoughtful. I'll make sure to take care of it myself.”
”Did Richard have a lot of enemies?” I asked.
He pushed his thin lips together and pondered my question. ”There's always a variety of rivalry; that's the nature of compet.i.tion, correct? No, I wouldn't call them enemies, but there was definitely tension between him and a number of other owners. Not to speak ill of the dead, but he could be difficult.”
I'd noticed. His wife was equally difficult. ”What about the protesters?”
He waved his hand dismissively. ”Don't pay them any attention. They're a nuisance, nothing more.”
Interesting. Darby and I exchanged a questioning look but refrained from commenting. We had proof it was possible the head protester was more than a nuisance.
”Are they here every year?” I asked.
”From what I understand, yes. Last year there was an altercation between the animal activists' organizer and a couple of doxie owners. I'm terribly sorry, but I wasn't informed about the specifics.”
Well, maybe Darby and I need to find out. My phone chirped, interrupting our enlightening talkfest. A quick glance at my cell showed it was Grey. I looked at Darby and said, ”Excuse me.”
I walked toward a couple of locust trees for privacy before I answered. I released the breath I'd been holding and managed a half smile. ”Hi.”
”Hey. I saw I missed your call.”
I looked around the grounds for a glimpse of Grey making his way toward me. I didn't see him. ”I thought you'd be back before now.”
He hesitated then said, ”Something came up. I had to leave.”
I recognized the indifferent tone. He used it anytime he worked on a case I couldn't know about. I started to pace. Was he on his way out of town already? Was that why he seemed happier after his call this afternoon?
Good grief. Pull yourself together. ”Will I see you tonight?”
”I'm not sure. I have a couple of things to take care of.” The tension crackled across the phone.
”Are you blowing me off?” I leaned against a tree, the rough bark pressed against my back.
He sighed so hard I was amazed I didn't feel his breath on my ear. ”No. I have people waiting for me.”
I rubbed my chest, pus.h.i.+ng back the ache building inside. I was waiting for him too. I'd been waiting for him for weeks. ”It's just as well. I wasn't expecting you for a couple of days so I made plans.” My face warmed at my blatant lie.
”Melinda, we're not finished.” His voice softened, but it still sounded detached. ”We have a lot to discuss. Just not tonight.”
”I don't really want to talk tonight either,” I muttered. I squeezed my eyes shut. ”I love you.”
He didn't respond immediately. I felt sick to my stomach.
”I love you too,” he finally said.
I ended the call hurt and frustrated, and in no way rea.s.sured. What a horrible day.
IT WAS DUSK by the time Darby left to find Malone and update him on the photos. I'd managed to load three of the storage containers in the Jeep fairly quickly. Frustration could be a terrific motivator. Bless Missy's sweet bulldog heart, she didn't complain about all the back and forth between the Jeep and the booth. I'm sure she thought I'd lost my mind. She deserved an extra treat when we finally made it home.
I slid the final tote off the table and started toward the Jeep for the last time. Missy dutifully brought up the rear, her tongue hanging out the side of her mouth. As I walked across the park, I mentally planned the rest of my night. First, a hot shower. Second, a gla.s.s or two of Pinot.
”Hey, Cookie. Did you miss me?” Betty called out brightly.
Startled, I almost dropped the plastic storage bin on my foot. I set down the tote before whipping around. ”Where the heck have you been? I've been worried about you.” Immediately I was embarra.s.sed I'd lost my temper.
Betty, on the other hand, didn't bat an eye at my outrage. ”Talking to Officer Cupcake.”
”For two hours?”
Betty squatted in front of Missy. With a thin hand, she patted Missy's head with great affection. Betty's white hair needed brus.h.i.+ng, and her pajamas were rumpled. For the first time since I'd met her, she looked frail. That scared me more than not knowing where she'd been since she'd walked away with Officer Shughart.
”I had some things to take care of,” she said.
”Like what?”
She straightened. ”It's private.”
”Privacy's never stopped you from poking your nose into my business.”
”That's because someone has to keep an eye out for you, Cookie. You act before you think.”
Look who's talking? The G.o.dmother of impulsiveness. I needed to calm down. What was I doing, interrogating a woman old enough to be my grandmother?
I inhaled deeply and counted to five, searching for a shred of patience.
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