Chow Down (A Melanie Travis Mystery)

small dog. When Dorothy and Lisa stepped to the front of the group, he went with them.
    “We’ll crouch,” he said, placing himself and the Boxer front and center.
    “Whatever.” Charlie pulled out a camera that looked to be loaded with bells and whistles. He didn’t touch any of them before desultorily snapping off a few shots. “Got it,” he said before half the group had even had time to pose and smile.
    “Great!” said Doug. “Let’s load up, then.”
    By the time Faith’s and my turn came to climb up onto the bus, all the seats near the front were already taken. Chris, Simone, and Cindy were sitting in a tight little group just behind the driver.
    Lisa came next. She and Yoda had a seat to themselves. Though the benches were wide enough to accommodate two people comfortably, no one had joined her. I glanced her way briefly but when she didn’t return my look, I kept walking too.
    Doug had seated himself with Charlie. Perhaps they had work to do. At any rate, I had no desire to join them.
    The Reddings and Ginger were in the next row and Ben had slipped in across from them with Brando. That left Dorothy and me to share the long bench that ran along the back of the bus. We settled down next to each other, both of us directing our dogs to our outer sides. Faith and MacDuff were both experienced travelers. As soon as the bus began to move, they laid down next to our feet and closed their eyes.
    Dorothy and I had met the previous week at the initial meeting, but we hadn’t had occasion to speak to one another. Now, even though we were seated side by side, it didn’t look as though that was going to change. Dorothy turned her head away and stared out a side window. As the bus lumbered through Norwalk’s industrial zone on its way to I-95, all that could be seen was a dreary visage of worn brick buildings and hulking factories. I doubted that Dorothy was enjoying the view.
    Maybe a little judicious name-dropping would break the ice, I decided. It wouldn’t be the first time I’d invoked Aunt Peg’s name to shore up my own credibility. The two women were of similar age and status within their respective breeds, and the dog show world was, at its core, a very small community. Just as Peg had known immediately who Dorothy and MacDuff were, I was quite certain the reverse would also be true.
    “I’m wondering if you know my aunt,” I said. “Margaret Turnbull?”
    As I had hoped, the question got Dorothy’s attention. She swiveled her head my way. “Of course I know Peg. She’s your aunt?”
    “Yes. She’s the one who got me started showing dogs. In fact, she’s Faith’s breeder.”
    Dorothy’s gaze drifted downward to the Poodle reclining on the floor of the bus. “No wonder she’s such a good one. Your aunt has produced a wonderful family of dogs. These days, she doesn’t seem to be showing as much as she used to. At one point I was accustomed to seeing her in the group ring nearly every weekend.”
    “She cut back a lot after my Uncle Max died. Now you’re much more likely to find her judging than competing.”
    Dorothy nodded. “So many exhibitors make that leap eventually. After you’ve devoted your life to learning everything there is to know about your breed, it seems like the natural progression.”
    “Does that mean you’re thinking about applying for a judge’s license, too?”
    “I’m always thinking about it.” Dorothy laughed. “I just never seem to get around to doing the paperwork. And competing with MacDuff kept me so busy for so long . . .”
    “I always enjoyed watching the two of you in the ring,” I said, and my enthusiasm was genuine. “MacDuff seemed to love what he was doing and you made a great team.”
    “He adored it,” Dorothy said fondly. “He absolutely reveled in the applause and the attention. As soon as I walked him into the ring, MacDuff just turned on. He enjoyed every single minute. So much so that it seemed almost unfair to make him stop. Now I’m really hoping that we can find something for the second phase of his life that he’ll love just as much.”
    A moment of awkward silence followed. As if we’d both briefly forgotten why we were there, until Dorothy’s comment reminded us. For Dorothy and MacDuff to get their wish, Faith and I would have to lose. It wasn’t the worst thing that could happen by my estimation; but Dorothy didn’t know I felt that way.
    “Is your aunt still breeding?” she asked after a minute.
    The bus