Chow Down (A Melanie Travis Mystery)

shut. Like maybe someone was running away.”
    Eve, standing between us on the table, was watching the conversation like a third participant. Now she turned and looked at Sam as if waiting for him to reply.
    “Then Doug Allen showed up,” he said, replaying the events as I’d related them to him several days earlier. “He opened the fire door two floors up.”
    “Right.”
    “How soon after Larry fell did Doug appear?”
    I thought back, remembering standing there frozen, then stooping down to catch Yoda as she came flying down the stairs. “Right away. It couldn’t have been more than thirty seconds.”
    “Or maybe it was no time at all,” said Sam.
    I set the clipper down. “What do you mean?”
    “How sure are you that someone actually left and came back through the fire doors? You couldn’t see them from where you were, right? You just heard the doors opening and closing?”
    “Damn,” I said softly.
    Sam was looking very pleased with himself. “I guess that’s why you finally married me,” he said. “So I’d be handy for pointing out things that you miss.”
    “Get real, Driver. I married you for your body.”
    “Oh.” He colored slightly.
    “Besides, you’d recently inherited a small fortune. Maybe I married you for your money.”
    “You didn’t.”
    I grinned wickedly. “Want to bet?”
    “Sure.” Sam reached over and yanked me into his lap. “It seems to me that you started wearing my ring when I was just a poor, struggling software designer.”
    Good point.
    “People will do all sorts of things for money.” I was still thinking about Lisa and the rest of the contestants.
    “Like bump off the competition?” Sam asked, following my train of thought.
    “Maybe.”
    “Why Larry?”
    “Convenience? Opportunity? Or possibly because Yoda was the only one of the finalists that actually liked the dog food? That had to give her a leg up on the rest of us. Maybe whoever pushed Larry down the stairs thought that would eliminate the Yorkie . . .”
    I stopped as something else occurred to me. “Chances are, Larry was holding Yoda in his arms when he fell.”
    “Lucky she didn’t get hurt.”
    “Precisely. What if the killer wasn’t after Larry? What if he was trying to hurt Yoda?”
    “You think maybe Larry died trying to shield his dog from harm?”
    To some people that might have sounded far-fetched. Not to me and Sam. Our Poodles were like members of the family. Each of us would have done anything to keep someone from injuring them.
    “Maybe Lisa was right,” I said. “Larry’s death was an accident and Yoda was the target all along.”
    “If that’s the case, you’d better keep an eye on Faith.”
    As one, our gazes went to the other Poodles, three of whom were lying on the floor near the doorway. A quick glance told me that Sam’s Poodles were all accounted for. Davey was in the living room, playing a video game; I could hear the sound effects from where we were. Faith, no doubt, was in her usual position, lying on the couch next to him.
    “Greed is one of the oldest motives in the world,” said Sam. “And don’t forget something else. If and when the police go looking for possible killers, every single one of the contestants will be a suspect. That includes you, babe.”

12
    S aturday came and I took Eve to a dog show. Exactly as I’d done dozens of times before. This time felt different, however. Most show days, I’m feeling hopeful about our chances. On rare occasions, I’m already resigned that things aren’t likely to go my way. But that morning, there was a feeling of expectation in the air.
    I had begun showing Eve when she was a young, rambunctious puppy. Dogs are allowed to be entered in A.K.C. shows once they’ve reached six months of age and I had started taking Eve to shows shortly thereafter. In the beginning, we were going mostly for the experience. But even with my inexpert handling, Eve had begun to pile up points pretty quickly.
    By the time she turned a year old, the Poodle had already amassed seven of the fifteen points needed to complete her championship. After that, things had slowed down. For one thing, Eve had had to take some time off to grow into her new adult trim. For another, there’d been a number of changes in my life in the past year, and I’d been too busy to devote as much time as I previously had to showing dogs.
    Another factor was that Aunt Peg had cut back on her own show schedule. At one point, we’d gone to nearly