Chow Down (A Melanie Travis Mystery)

the two of them discussed the lengthy research-and-development process that Champions went through before introducing a new dog food to the public.
    After that Simone was brought out to speak about the company’s commitment to providing the best possible canine products to the dog owners of America. She gushed about the exciting contest that Champions had decided to sponsor, mentioning that it had drawn thousands of worthy entries from all over the country. I thought Simone’s performance was a bit over the top, but Darren, Darlene, and Rob were all smiling so I guessed it played well.
    Then came our turn. Darren introduced each of the finalists. He spoke briefly about the attributes of each featured breed. Then, one by one, we were pushed out of the wings to join the others under the hot lights. I might have been trembling slightly, but Faith was perfect.
    Brando and Ginger had preceded us onto the set. Ben, Bill, and Allison had had their turns and were now seated at opposite ends of the park bench. Doug and Simone were standing behind them, looking like a pair of proud parents. When Darren beckoned me out to join him, it was Faith who responded to the hand signal. I just followed along in her wake.
    “And here we have our third finalist, Standard Poodle, Faith, and her owner, Melanie Travis,” Darren was saying. “Melanie, most Poodles I know have names like Fifi and Pierre in honor of their French heritage. How did you come to name your Poodle Faith?”
    Good grief, I thought. With all the wonderful things there were to say about the Poodle breed, that was all he could come up with to ask me? Not only that, but the expert had his facts wrong.
    “Actually, Darren,” I said with a bright smile, “Standard Poodles originated in Germany, where they were bred to be used as hunting dogs, so names like Adolf or Heidi might have been better choices. But Faith comes from a long line of American champions and she was given to me by someone who wanted to demonstrate her faith in my abilities.”
    “Isn’t that interesting?” Darren said, sounding as though he thought my answer had been anything but.
    The other finalists had been asked a second question at that point. They’d been given the opportunity to explain why they thought their particular dog was best suited to be named winner of the contest.
    Darren didn’t bother to do that with us. Instead he merely leaned down and gave Faith a dismissive pat on the head, then waved us back to a seat on the bench. Obviously it didn’t pay to contradict the man in charge, even when he didn’t know what he was talking about.
    Dorothy and MacDuff were up last. Dorothy strode confidently out into the spotlight but the Scottie hung back. His feet simply stopped moving. When he hit the end of his short leash, Dorothy gave the leather strip a snap.
    “Come along,” she said briskly.
    “Yes, please.” Darren crouched down and tapped the floor in front of himself, drawing the Scottie forward. “What a dignified little dog you are.”
    MacDuff didn’t look much impressed by the flattery but Dorothy was beaming. “He really is special, isn’t he? MacDuff has known what a star he was from the time he was a tiny puppy. Now we’re fortunate that the good people at Champions Dog Food are going to let the whole world know how wonderful my boy is. ‘All Dogs Are Champions’ is the perfect name for this contest and MacDuff will be the perfect winner. Really, when you look at all that he’s accomplished, there’s nobody else here that can hold a candle to his record—”
    “Very good,” Darren interrupted, shutting her down. He liked to hear himself speak entirely too much to listen to a long-winded monologue from someone else during his air time. “He certainly looks like he ought to be a little trooper. Now that we’ve seen all of our wonderful finalists—”
    Abruptly he stopped speaking. Darren was staring off into the wings and I turned to see why.
    Having grown accustomed to the bright lights, it took a moment for my eyes to adjust. Then it took another for me to believe what I was seeing. The segment producer was waving frantically, trying to cue Darren that he had more to do, that the piece wasn’t finished yet.
    Standing beside the producer was Lisa Kim. Yoda was cradled in her arms.
    “Holy crap,” Ben said under his breath. “Where did she come from?”
    Lisa smiled uncertainly as if she wasn’t sure of her welcome. But the producer had already