Chow Down (A Melanie Travis Mystery)

now.
    “Stop fidgeting.” Terry poked me with the tip of the scissors. “If you want me to get this right, you have to sit still.”
    “Yes sir.”
    I couldn’t see him but I knew he was grinning. That made me feel better and I began to relax.
    “Talk to me,” Terry said as he worked. “How’s your summer going? Tell me what you’ve been up to.”
    “You know perfectly well what I’ve been up to. Faith and I are engaged in an epic battle to become the new face of Chow Down dog food. Whether we want to be or not.”
    “Of course I know that, but I want details, the newest scoop. What’s going on behind the scenes?”
    The scissors continued to flash open and shut, nicking off bits and pieces of hair. I watched them go without regret.
    “For one thing, Lisa Kim has disappeared—”
    “Wow.” He uttered the word with no inflection at all. I’d led with my biggest news and Terry sounded almost bored.
    I turned my head slightly to look at him. Firmly but gently, Terry turned it back. I sighed and faced the far wall.
    “That doesn’t surprise you?” I asked.
    “Should it?”
    “Yes.” I might have sounded a little huffy. “Every time someone disappears it surprises me. I like people to stay where they’re supposed to be.”
    “Well then,” said Terry, “there’s your problem. What makes you think that you know where people are supposed to be?”
    I didn’t answer. I imagined that was my way of acknowledging that he might have a point. Hair continued to fall to the floor around the legs of the stool. My head began to feel lighter.
    “Lisa left a whole bunch of dogs behind,” I mentioned after a minute. “Ten Yorkies, to be precise. Don’t you think she would have cared about what happened to them? If she’d left of her own volition, wouldn’t she have made provisions for their care?”
    “Larumph mookie,” Terry mumbled.
    I swiveled in my seat. He was holding a comb between his lips. Considering all the time he spent doing exactly that at dog shows, you’d think he would be better at talking around an obstacle. I reached up and took the comb from him.
    Terry wet his lips and pursed his mouth. “Sit still,” he said. “I’m trying to work here.”
    “You always talk when you work. Why should today be any different?”
    “It isn’t.” Less gentle than he’d been the time before, Terry repositioned me. “I can talk to your back perfectly well.”
    “Fine,” I said. “Where were we? Oh, I remember, you were muttering something about Lisa.”
    Terry reached around and retrieved the comb. He used it to feather through the hair over my ears. “No, I was muttering about Larry. The dogs were his passion, not hers. Didn’t you ever notice that? He was the one who babied them, fussed over them, took them in the ring. Lisa was just along for the ride. You know, the good wife supporting her hubby’s hobby and trying to make it look like she wanted to be involved, when she really couldn’t have cared less.”
    “Interesting,” I said. Terry’s observation expanded on what Bertie had told me. Not only that, but his assessments were usually pretty astute. “I never saw either of the Kims at any shows. The first time I met the two of them was at the opening reception in Norwalk.”
    “Then you’re probably assuming Lisa’s a dog person.”
    I nodded.
    Terry growled a correction. My twitching and fidgeting was definitely trying his patience. “I wouldn’t jump to that conclusion if I were you. Maybe Lisa met up with some sort of foul play, maybe she didn’t. But I could see her taking off and leaving those dogs behind. I don’t think she would have worried about it the way you or I would have. Did Yoda get dumped too?”
    “No.” I was careful not to shake my head. “Wherever Lisa’s gone, Yoda seems to have disappeared right along with her.”
    “There you go, then.”
    “There I go . . . what?”
    “She took the potential moneymaker with her. I rest my case.”
    “I didn’t know we were making cases. Since you know so much about it, where did Lisa go?”
    “Oh please. I haven’t the slightest idea. I never said I knew everything .”
    Maybe not, but he’d been guilty of implying it a time or two. I decided to switch tacks. “How’s it coming? Can I look in a mirror?”
    “Your hair looks faboo. And no, you can’t look yet. Not until I’m finished.”
    “But—”
    “Think of your head as a soufflé. If you open the oven door too soon the whole thing