Bride & Groom

said, “Tablets.”
    There followed a technical exchange about the risks and benefits of a variety of veterinary tranquilizers, including ace, which emerged as safer for some breeds than for others. All three vets agreed that these days, the choice of antianxiety agents was so wide that they had the ability to prescribe on a case-by-case basis, selecting the best drug for each individual dog. Similarly, the three agreed on the importance of using behavioral interventions as well as medications.
    “The same goes for amitriptyline,” Mac said. “I’ll tell you when I used to prescribe that—before Prozac became generic. If I had a client who couldn’t afford Prozac or didn’t want to pay for it, we’d give amitriptyline a try. It was cheap.”
    Everyone agreed, of course, that insulin was another matter; just as people with diabetes tested and injected themselves, so, too, did owners monitor and manage the disease in diabetic pets.
    Ian listened eagerly and eventually asked, “So, where were they injected?”
    “Ian, that’s ghoulish!” Olivia said. “What does it matter? And these poor women were already dead. The point is that it was a creepy thing to do. Never mind anything else! Except the creepiest thing of all, which is that it’s getting so veterinary.”
    “I’m curious,” her brother told her. “In the arm?”
    “Ian, enough,” Mac said. “No one wants to dwell on gruesome details. And you’re forgetting that these poor women, some of them, weren’t strangers. Holly and I were blurbing a book that Elspeth What’s-her-name had just written.”
    I didn’t know what to make of the statement. Even Mac, I thought, wouldn’t stoop to blurbing a plagiarized book. Maybe he’d missed the E-mail I’d sent him after I’d read about Zazar and before I’d learned of Elspeth’s murder. Or maybe he was telling a pointless lie? I said nothing. With Elspeth dead, what did it matter whether I had or hadn’t intended to have my name on the cover of her book?
    “The scarlet lady,” Ian said. “At the bookstore.”
    Olivia came down hard on her brother. “Ian, what a way to talk about someone who’s just been murdered!”
    “She was all red. Red hair, red clothes, red face. All I’m doing is saying what she looked like.”
    “No, you are not, and you know you’re not. And it’s not exactly as if you’re in a position to criticize other people for the way they dress. You spend most of your life—” Olivia caught herself. To Steve and me, she said, “Sorry! I’ve scared you about your wedding. Ian does own a tux. He’ll be perfectly presentable.”
    Whether deliberately or accidentally, Olivia thus shifted the conversation from murder to music, and the dinner party regained its normal atmosphere. As we finished the main course and ate the salad that was served after it, everyone joined in a discussion of Ian’s music and the musical choices we needed to make for our wedding. Daniel was an especially helpful contributor. Claire excused herself twice to check on Gus, and when she was present, limited herself to humming snatches of songs that were mentioned. By the time we’d finished the salad, the idea had arisen that instead of having dessert at the dinner table, we’d move back to the opposite end of the room for live music.
    The party dispersed. Daniel and Steve helped Ian to carry in his instruments. Mac added logs to the fire and set out liquors and glasses for after-dinner drinks. Claire took a seat on one of the couches near the fire. Meanwhile, I insisted on helping Olivia to clear the table and load the dishwasher, and Judith put together a chocolate soufflé. As the three of us did traditional women’s work, we talked traditional women’s talk about weddings, especially Olivia’s and mine. Once the soufflé was in the oven, Olivia decided that I just had to see her wedding gown, which turned out to be stored at her parents’ house. Consequently, Olivia, Judith, and I started upstairs to the top floor, where I’d never been before. With a look of happy expectation, Uli trailed after us.
    “Oh, dear,” Judith said, “Uli sometimes forgets that stairs are a problem for him these days.”
    As Ian had done earlier, she supported the old dog’s hindquarters and spoke encouragingly as she helped him up the stairs. “My best boy,” she murmured. “You can do it! I know you can. Good boy!”
    Impatient to show off her gown, Olivia raced up and said, “Mommy, Uli really