Chow Down (A Melanie Travis Mystery)

just tripped?”
    I nodded slowly. “That seemed to be what they were thinking before I told the officer that I’d heard someone in the stairwell with him shortly before he died.”
    “Well then,” Aunt Peg said happily, “the plot thickens.”
    “Oh please.” I’d injected enough exasperation into the comment to wilt a lesser woman. Peg wasn’t even daunted. “The only thing my information got me was the opportunity to hang around Norwalk a couple of extra hours and be interviewed two more times by the police.”
    “So you’ve done your civic duty, now do the same by your family. I want you to tell me everything. But before we get started, did you miss lunch? Are you hungry? Shall I make you a sandwich while you talk?”
    Only Aunt Peg could skip back and forth between murder and food without missing a beat, and make the juxtaposition sound perfectly natural.
    “Yes, I missed lunch, and no, I’m not hungry.”
    “Maybe that’s good news! Maybe you’re—”
    “Don’t say it.”
    “All right, I won’t.” Peg frowned. “But that doesn’t stop me from thinking it. Now, back to a topic you will discuss without getting cranky for no good reason, which, by the way, is another possible sign . . .”
    Not trusting myself to speak, I simply leveled a glare.
    Aunt Peg shrugged. She recognizes outrage only when it suits her. When I’m the outraged party it usually doesn’t.
    “So we’re back to Mr. Perfectly Nice Yorkie Owner and his presumably perfectly nice wife,” she said. “Tell me more about them.”
    “My first impression was that they were both rather quiet. The entire time we were there, Lisa let Larry do almost all the talking. But halfway through the interview, the two of them stood up and threatened to walk out.”
    “It’s always the quiet ones that surprise you.”
    “This surprised everyone. But they were right. Chris— he’s director of advertising for the company and one of the judges—wanted us all to let our dogs loose in the room so they could run around and jump on one another.”
    “No wonder the man with the Yorkie balked at that. It sounds like good common sense to me.”
    “It sounded like common sense to all of us. Well, except Ben O’Donnell. He’d already turned Brando loose.”
    “He would have. Anything to draw attention to himself.”
    “By the way, does that Boxer bite?”
    “How would I know?” Aunt Peg snorted. “Despite appearances to the contrary, I am not privy to every single little thing that goes on in the dog show world.”
    “Oh.”
    That was a shame. My life had been easier when I’d thought Aunt Peg was omniscient.
    “Does it matter?”
    “Probably not, but I just saw something that made me wonder. Anyway, Chris and the committee backed down. The meeting concluded amicably and we were told we’d all be contacted about our next assignment.”
    “This is beginning to be a very long story,” Aunt Peg said. “The stairway will be making an appearance soon, won’t it?”
    “Very soon. The meeting took place on the third floor of the building. And when it was over, we all had to go back down to the lobby.”
    “Elevator?”
    “Faith hates them.”
    “Not surprising, lots of dogs do. So you looked for steps.”
    “First we stopped in the ladies’ room for a drink of water.”
    “I assume we’re talking about Faith?”
    I nodded.
    “A long group interview on a hot summer day and nobody thought to supply water for the dogs?”
    “They supplied biscuits instead.”
    “Not those horrid licorice ones?”
    “The very same.”
    Aunt Peg shuddered slightly. She reached down and patted Faith, who was lying between us, her fingers combing lightly through the dense, dark hair. “Poor girl. The things your mother puts you through.”
    I considered mentioning that it was Davey who’d signed Faith up for this particular ordeal, then thought better of it. Peg wasn’t the only one to whom this recounting of events was beginning to seem long.
    “Anyway, because we were in the ladies’ room, I didn’t see how people split up or which way they went. All I know is that when I pushed open the fire door, the stairwell appeared to be empty. I figured everyone else was either ahead of us or behind us, or else they’d taken the elevator.”
    “A logical assumption. Then what happened?”
    “We’d gone partway down when I heard a door open above us. I heard voices, too.”
    Aunt Peg sat up in her chair. “Saying what?”
    “That’s the