Chow Down (26 page)

“By winning the contest and the spokesdog contract.”

“Exactly. There would have been poetic justice in that, don't you think?”

“If it happened. But you might not have won.”

“I wasn't worried about that.”

“Maybe you should have been.”

“I don't think so. Before everything fell apart, Yoda was a shoe in to take home the prize.”

I'd heard Dorothy make similarly assured predictions about MacDuff's chances. And the Reddings seemed to feel Ginger was invincible. Where did all their confidence come from? It was depressing to think that I might be the only finalist who actually thought her dog could lose. Didn't Faith deserve better of me? And how had I managed to get myself so tied in knots over a contest that I didn't even want to win?

“Here,” Lisa said suddenly, pointing at the EXIT sign. “This is where you need to get off.”

“But this is Darien.”

“Right.”

“I thought you lived in Southport.”

“My car is here,” she insisted. “At the train station in Darien.”

I put on my blinker and eased the Volvo off onto the exit ramp. “So you didn't run very far. You've been staying in Darien.”

Lisa nodded. As the car slowed, the two dogs in the back seat stood up. Faith shook out her hair. Yoda hopped her front feet onto the arm rest and looked out the window.

The train station wasn't far from the exit. I didn't have much more time now. “Where have you been, Lisa?”

“With an old friend.”

“Who?”

“Someone whose support I could count on. Someone who let me think for myself and didn't try to tell me what to do.”

I thought back quickly. Just recently someone had mentioned Lisa having a friend from the past in the area. After a moment, it came to me. It had been Sue. She'd said that Lisa's college roommate lived nearby.

“Your roommate from college,” I said.

Lisa's head whipped around. Her eyes widened in surprise. “Simone told you about that?”

So help me, I nearly hit a tree. Good thing the Volvo responded quickly when I jerked the wheel back on course.

Simone?
I couldn't believe it. The company's PR director was Lisa's old friend from college?

That put an interesting spin on things, didn't it?

“Y
ou've been staying with Simone?”

I tried to sound like I'd had that piece of information all along, but some of the incredulity I was feeling must have crept into my voice because Lisa clamped her lips shut.

“She's an old friend of yours,” I said.

Grudgingly Lisa nodded.

“I saw the two of you talking last week in the park. I suppose I should have put two and two together.”

“I just needed to get away for a little while, okay?” She stared out at the street in front of us, as if she was willing me to drive faster. Fortunately there were plenty of traffic lights along that stretch of the Post Road. “That's not a crime.”

“No, of course not.” Though it had been a big inconvenience for everyone around her. Including Simone, who'd protected her old friend's privacy and taken the heat from Doug for it. “What made you decide to come back?”

Lisa sighed. “For one thing, hiding out began to feel a little childish. For another, Simone made a better roomie in college than she does now. She said something that made a lot of sense though. She told me that Yoda and I needed to go on and compete. That if we gave up and let someone else win the contest, Larry would have died for nothing.”

I could see the railroad bridge approaching. The station was on the near side. Another minute or two and Lisa would be gone.

“Does that mean you think your husband's death had something to do with the competition?”

“It happened at the dog food company. What else could it have been?”

“You told me that Larry suffered from vertigo,” I said. “Earlier you said that you thought he might have tripped and fallen.”

“The police have indicated to me that such a scenario is highly unlikely. So now I have to wonder what really happened. The authorities tell me they have many suspects, but no evidence against any one particular person.”

Welcome to the club, I thought. I put on my turn signal, pulled through a break in the oncoming traffic, and drove up into the parking lot. There was time for just one more question.

“Why Larry?” I asked.

“Pardon me?”

“If the murder
was
related to the contest, if it was meant to influence its outcome, why was Larry the finalist who was targeted? All five of us have a shot at winning. So why would someone go after only Yoda? What made the murderer believe that she was the strongest contestant?”

For a minute I didn't think Lisa was going answer. We'd reached the train station, after all. I half-expected Lisa to retrieve Yoda from the back seat and scramble from the car. But she didn't.

I slid the Volvo into an empty parking space, and turned off the ignition. Then we both sat in silence.

“I'm not proud of this,” she said finally. “But you have to understand the desperation I felt. It led me to make some decisions I might not otherwise have made.”

“Go on.”

“It was also Simone's idea, though I'm not blaming her for a minute. I agreed to go along.”

It occurred to me I might have gray hair before I found out what we were talking about. “With what?”

“Chow Down has been in development for more than a year, and during that time Simone was the one who came up with a brilliant idea to promote the new product launch. Champions would hold a contest that would draw entries and attention from all over the country. The publicity it would generate would be well worth the hundred thousand–dollar prize. She took the idea to Doug and it was approved.”

Lisa's voice faltered briefly. When she spoke again, it was with renewed determination. “Then Simone came to me, her oldest friend, and also a woman who was struggling with a husband she no longer loved and a marriage she didn't know how to get out of.”

“Simone recommended that you to enter the contest.”

“She did more than that.”

The lightbulb went on. I should have seen this sooner.

“She promised you that Yoda would win, didn't she?”

“There didn't seem to be any harm in the idea.” Lisa's words came tumbling out in a rush. “After all, the contest was going to be a boon to the company. And Yoda would make an excellent spokesdog for the product. So we weren't stealing anything, we were just manipulating some results. It wasn't as if anybody would be hurt by what we were doing.”

Nobody except the thousands of other hopeful contestants who had written essays and taken pictures, and entered the contest in good faith. And maybe me . . . who'd apparently devoted half my summer to a competition that had been rigged right from the start.

“Did Larry know about that?” I asked.

“No, of course not. I certainly couldn't explain what I needed the money for. I told him about the contest after I'd already entered it. He thought Yoda was chosen to be a finalist in the same way all the others were.”

But someone must have known that the little Yorkie was slated to win. Someone who had lured Larry into the stairwell for a clandestine meeting.

“Who else did Simone tell?” I asked.

“I don't know. I never had any idea how she made the arrangements. Simone just told me that everything was all set and that ensuring the correct outcome would not be a problem.”

Except that, as things turned out, she couldn't have been more wrong.

“So what happens now?” I asked.

Lisa shrugged. “We go to the press conference tomorrow. The judges announce the winner. And Chow Down has a new spokesdog.”

“Yoda?”

“I have no idea anymore,” Lisa said. She sounded unbearably weary. “At this point, I just want it all to be over.”

 

Lisa wasn't the only one who wanted the whole thing to be finished. I was tired of running around participating in events that I now knew had been all but meaningless. The summer was slipping by, and I'd hardly had a chance to stop and enjoy any of it.

When Faith and I arrived home, I discovered that Sam and Davey had been making plans. They'd decided to hold a cookout and they'd invited Aunt Peg, Bob, Frank, Bertie, and Maggie to join us.

I should have been elated at the prospect of a family gathering. And I would have been, if only I hadn't felt so thoroughly enervated.

That was what getting up and starting the day before dawn did to a person, I told myself. But secretly I was hoping there was another reason for my lack of energy. It had been so long since I'd been pregnant with Davey that I didn't remember what I'd felt like then. Nor did I have any idea whether I should expect to feel the same now. On the other hand, there was also the distinct possibility that it was all just wishful thinking on my part.

But whatever malaise was dragging me down, it was enough to make me spend much of the evening in a lounge chair on the deck, watching the bulk of the festivities from the sidelines. After a while, Sam came over and sat down on the end of the chaise.

I moved my legs to make room for him. His hand drifted down onto my knee, fingers moving over the warm skin absently. I loved that part about being married: the touching that was just that easy and comfortable.

“You okay?” he asked.

“I'm just a little tired, that's all.”

“Want me to bring you something to eat?”

I'd nibbled around the edges of a hamburger earlier, but passed up corn on the cob and potato salad. Now Frank and Bertie were serving up a watermelon. It looked cool, and pink, and juicy, but I couldn't seem to work up any desire to have a slice.

“No thanks, I'm fine. Really.”

“You're sure? You didn't eat much dinner.”

I hadn't realized he'd been watching. Another benefit to being married: when it came to my well-being, Sam didn't miss much. After years of looking out for myself and Davey, it was nice to have someone looking after me for a change.

“I'm just not hungry.”

“You? Not hungry? That must be . . .” He started to grin, then abruptly the words died in his throat and his expression shifted. His eyes dropped to the region of my stomach, then came back up. “Anything you want to tell me?”

“Not yet,” I said softly. “At the moment, I'm still in the hopeful stage. As soon as I know for sure . . .”

“When?” Sam tried not to sound impatient; he didn't entirely succeed.

I'd already read the instructions on the pregnancy kit and done the calculations. “Soon. Just give me a couple more days.”

“Anything you want.” His hand was still resting on my knee. He squeezed gently before pulling it away.

“A girl,” I said, “with your eyes and your smile.”

He stood and looked down at me. “I'll do my best.”

Sam went back to our guests who were, for once, on their best behavior. By some unspoken agreement, no one tried to make me eat dessert or help clean up. They didn't drag me over to join in the games of croquet or frisbee football that sprang up after dinner.

Even Aunt Peg refrained from badgering me about the latest scoop on the contest. Sam must have filled her in and she'd decided that getting her information secondhand was good enough.

Faith never left my side all night. And when the rest of the Poodles grew tired of running around the yard, they came and flopped in a semicircle around my chair. It was a little like having my own canine honor guard and I appreciated their quiet company.

The sun finally began to dip low in the sky. Bertie lit the scented candles we had scattered around the deck. Frank turned on the bug-zapper. Clutching her stuffed dog to her chest, Maggie fell asleep in her baby seat. Davey was looking ready for bed himself.

As Sam helped Frank and Bertie load a mound of baby essentials and leftover food into their car, Davey scrambled up into the tree house. Aunt Peg had brought an American flag to decorate his new outdoor abode. Now as she supervised from the ground, the two of them debated where it could be hung to best effect.

While that was going on, Bob strolled over to say goodnight.

Over the previous decade, Bob's and my relationship had been as tumultuous as a roller-coaster ride. We'd been in love, and we'd been close to hating one another. We'd lived together for several years, then been apart and not speaking for more time than that.

Recently we'd finally reached a stage of equanimity. Bob wasn't just my ex-husband and Davey's father. He was a real friend now, and the relationship that had evolved had come as a bit of a surprise to both of us.

Like Sam, he sat down on the end of the lounger. Unlike my husband, Bob was careful not to sit too close. His expression when he looked at me was equal parts gratified and wistful.

“Congratulations,” he said softly. “I know how much you've wanted this.”

I pushed myself forward and sat up straight. “Wanted what?”

“A new baby. A little brother or sister for Davey.”

“Not so fast,” I said. “We're trying, that's all. Nobody's sure that anything's been accomplished yet.”

“It has.”

The certainty in his tone made me pause. I tipped my head to one side thoughtfully. “What makes you say that?”

“I was there the first time, remember? You have just the same look . . . the same glow.”

I shook my head in automatic denial even as I felt my heart leap with hope. Might Bob know something I didn't? Could he possibly be right?

My hand lifted to my face. I touched my cheek, half-expecting to feel heat. When I didn't, I felt silly.

“I'm not glowing,” I said.

“You are.” Again the same certain tone. Bob's gaze drifted past me to the people in the yard. The sound of Davey's laughter floated to us on the breeze. “You did a great job first time around. You'll be a wonderful mother now too.”

“How would you know? You weren't there.”

The words, motivated by the fear that he might be getting my hopes up for nothing, came out before I could stop them. They were unworthy of both of us.

“My loss,” said Bob. I was happy he hadn't taken offense. “Sam won't make the same mistake.”

No, he wouldn't, I thought. Our child would be surrounded by all the love and security that two adoring parents and an older brother could provide.

“Does he know yet?” asked Bob.

I smiled at that. “
I
don't even know yet.”

“Trust me.” Bob's hand found mine. He held my fingers firmly. “If you ever need anything . . .”

“An uncle? A baby-sitter? A godfather?”

“Name it,” he said. “I'm your man.”

“Funny thing about that,” said Sam, coming up beside us. “I thought I was her man.”

Bob stood. He held up both hands, palms out. “You won't get any argument from me. I was just telling Melanie how lucky she is.”

I gazed up at Sam. My eyes found his in the dim light. “And I was telling him I knew that.”

I rose to join them and my stomach flipped. All at once I felt light-headed. Sam reached out a steadying hand but I didn't notice. Right at that moment, my thoughts focused inward, I didn't see a thing.

Holy moley, I thought with a sudden, incandescent rush of pure joy. Bob
was
right.