Chow Down (A Melanie Travis Mystery)

Brittany down to the floor and prepared to disembark.
    One by one, we made our way down the narrow aisle. The judges, sitting in the front, had followed Doug and gotten off first. Dorothy and I, seated in the back, were bringing up the rear.
    By the time Faith and I reached the door, I could see that Sam had been wrong. Despite New Yorkers’ reputation for being blasé, a small crowd had gathered on the sidewalk to watch us unload. Kind of like watching clowns emerge from a Volkswagen at the circus, I imagined.
    Though the human contestants were largely ignored, murmurs of approval greeted each newly revealed canine. I had to give credit to Simone and Chris. With our dogs’ pictures plastered all over the sides of the bus, the Champions PR team had created the impression that the five finalists were celebrities, even though they had yet to do anything to justify their fame.
    Faith and I hopped down the two steps onto the street. The judges had moved to one side to give us room. Faith and I joined Dorothy, the Reddings, and Lisa, who’d pressed together in a tight little group between the bus and the sidewalk. We all awaited further instruction.
    Ben, however, had ideas of his own. Dragging Brando behind him, he slithered between two parked cars and went to greet the assembled crowd.
    “Wow,” I heard a teenage girl say. “Are these movie dogs?”
    “No, stupid,” her friend replied. “They’re on TV. Read the sign.”
    “The sign says they eat dog food,” someone called out. “Hey, my dog eats dog food. Can he be famous, too?”
    Standing on the street with the bus and bumper-to bumper traffic behind me, and parked cars and a crowd of spectators in front, I slid a hand down and pressed Faith closer to my thigh. She didn’t seem perturbed but I knew that was because she trusted me not to put her in harm’s way. Breathing in exhaust fumes, and waiting impatiently, I hoped I was going to be able to keep my word.
    I glanced over at Doug and the other judges. They were engrossed in watching Ben and Brando work the crowd and seemed to have forgotten all about the rest of us. The actor was busy explaining to the teenage girls that he had been a soap opera star. One of them was fishing around in her purse for a piece of paper for him to sign. How that was supposed to help Brando’s cause I had no idea.
    Charlie walked around onto the sidewalk and began to take pictures. Predictably that made even more people stop to see what was happening.
    I waited a minute, then stepped forward and caught Doug’s eye. “Maybe we should get moving into the park? You probably don’t want us to do this here in the street, do you?”
    Doug didn’t respond right away, but Simone did. “You’re absolutely right,” she said. “Ben? Brando? Wrap it up here, we’re moving over to the park.”
    The command she barked out was enough to finally galvanize Doug into action. He hopped up onto the sidewalk and addressed the crowd.
    “On behalf of Champions’ new dog food, Chow Down, welcome! The dogs you see here are five finalists, one of whom will become our new spokesdog and be featured on television and in print advertising. We’ll be heading over to Central Park now, where we’ll be handing out free samples of the product. Of course you’re welcome to come and join us. You’ll be able to meet all the dogs, then later you can go to our web site and vote for your favorite. Thank you all for your support!”
    Doug’s rousing speech didn’t have the effect he seemed to be hoping for. Nobody applauded. In fact nobody even looked terribly interested. As celebrities, our dogs had had potential. As advertising for a dog food company, they were boring.
    “Yeah, whatever,” said a young man with multiple piercings.
    He turned and walked away. Others followed. In less than a minute, we were all by ourselves again. Looking disgruntled, Ben rejoined the fold.
    “Way to shut down a party, man,” Chris said with a grin.
    Simone quickly turned away; I suspected she might have been hiding a smile. Cindy, standing beside Chris, looked worried; obviously she was new to insurrection in the ranks. Doug ignored all of them and rounded us up.
    Bunched together like a Brownie troop on a mission, we crossed Fifth Avenue and took the path that led into the park. Now that we weren’t hemmed in by traffic and pedestrians, everyone relaxed and let out their leashes.
    The dogs, confined during the long bus ride, began to hop and play. Several