Chow Down (A Melanie Travis Mystery)

to the contest was enough to get me a spot on Simone’s calendar. The fact that the information was more vital to my interests than hers was something we could discuss when I got there.
    Since this was to be Faith’s last contest appearance, I went all out with her grooming. She’d looked good when we’d appeared on TV the day before, but now I was aiming for perfect. I didn’t expect my Poodle to win, but I did want the judging committee to experience at least a small pang of regret at passing her by.
    I reclipped Faith’s face, her feet, and the base of her tail. I bathed her in the tub, then devoted two hours to blowing her hair dry, section by section, so that when I was done, her entire coat was straight and plush and full. Scissoring in the lines, I emphasized the length of the Poodle’s legs, the crest of her neck, and rounded off her topknot and the pom pon on her tail.
    Sam and Davey had borrowed Aunt Peg’s beach card and gone to Todd’s Point for the afternoon, so when Faith and I headed out, only the other Poodles were home to escort us to the door. Having spent more time on Faith’s appearance than I had on my own, I paused in front of the hallway mirror and took a quick look to make sure that my hair was combed and my shirt was clean. The reflection I saw in the mirror looked pretty much as I expected.
    Nope, I thought critically as I examined myself from several perspectives, if anything was glowing, I didn’t see it.
    Faith and I arrived at Champions with time to spare. My Poodle would have preferred that we take the stairs, but I wasn’t ready to face them again just yet. Instead, we rode the elevator up to the third floor.
    Even though we were a few minutes early, Simone didn’t keep us waiting long. Promptly at three, the PR director opened her office door and stood expectantly in the doorway. I wondered whether she’d actually been working or whether she’d been sitting inside watching the clock until it was time.
    “You wanted to see me?” she said.
    I filed that under “R” for rhetorical and walked past her into the small room. Simone outranked Cindy Burrows and probably Chris Hovick, too, but her office wasn’t any more impressive in size or decor. Idly I wondered if that rankled. If it was one of the reasons that she might not have seen anything wrong in diverting company funds in a friend’s direction.
    “Well?” Simone said, in her best get-on-with-it tone. “What’s this all about?”
    I helped myself to a seat. The chair looked like it had been designed by Le Corbousier. It was small and uncomfortable, but at least it made me sit up straight.
    “I drove Lisa home from New York yesterday,” I said.
    “So I gathered.” Simone didn’t sound pleased. She walked around behind her desk and sat down. “I’d have been happy to bring her back myself, but once you swooped in like the Lone Ranger and spirited her away, I figured she’d made other arrangements.”
    “She did. We had a long talk on the way.”
    Simone lifted a brow disdainfully. Obviously she didn’t feel threatened by anything her friend might have told me. I wondered if she’d spoken with Lisa since. I was betting no. Judging by her past behavior, Yoda’s owner seemed to want to avoid confrontation.
    “Lisa told me how you had set up the contest so that she and Yoda would win.”
    “That’s ridiculous. I don’t have any idea what you’re talking about.”
    “I think you do. I know that you and Lisa are old friends. That the two of you went to college together.”
    Simone looked briefly startled, then her expression turned bland again. I’d managed to get her attention though. Good.
    “So?” she said.
    “So she needed to find a way out of an unhappy marriage and you offered to help.”
    “Naturally I offered emotional support. A bit of advice, a shoulder to cry on. That’s what friends are for.”
    “You offered more than that. You offered a contest, specially engineered with her in mind. Nationwide publicity, thousands of entries, good PR out the wazoo, all of that controlled by a small committee of handpicked people who would select the winner. Yoda would end up being the spokesdog for Champions’ newest product and Lisa would gain a new direction in life, not to mention the financial security she needed to leave her husband.”
    “That’s an interesting story,” Simone said evenly. “But that’s all it is, a piece of fiction. It’s not what happened.”
    Time was passing and