Down Home and Deadly

dog carrier back up to her room.
    She looked up from her novel as if I were bothering her. “Oh. I wanted to ask you something. I don’t usually listen to rumors, but I heard J.D.’s ex-wife was in town. They say she’s really trashy . I s that true?”
    I stared at her. I was taking her dog to her husband until she could get over her boyfriend’s murder. And she was asking me if someone else was “ trashy. ” “You’d have to be your own judge of that, Lisa,” I said softly and let myself out the door.
    “I’ll see for myself at the funeral tomorrow anyway,” she called haughtily as I walked down the stairs.
    Fluffy, in the carrier by my side, barked in reply. But I just kept walking.

Chapter Fifteen

    Better than a poke in the eye with a sharp stick

    “How do you talk me into these things?” Carly settled into her seat and buckled in.
    “You mean you don’t enjoy going with me to confront possible murderers?”
    “Don’t act so surprised,” she drawled. “I told you the first time you dragged me into trying to solve a murder that I’m a big chicken.”
    “Well now that we know he didn’t abuse Lisa, what do think the chances are that Larry did it?” I asked.
    “You said he’s really jealous, so I’m not sure.” She glanced at Fluffy in her carrier in the backseat. “I guess it all depends on how he treats the dog.”
    I grinned as I guided the car into the fringes of Lake View ’s ritziest neighborhood. “So murderers are mean to animals as a general rule?”
    “Probably. You’re the expert on murder, not me.”
    I turned into a private drive and drove through the imposing gates and up a long driveway to an even more impressive house.
    We sat for a second rubbernecking at the mansion on the hill. “Doesn’t that just make you want to call the butler to bring high tea, dahling?” My English accent was atrocious, flavored as it was by an Arkansas drawl.
    “Ignore her,” Carly muttered to Fluffy as she got the carrier out of the backseat. “She gets goofier when she’s nervous.”
    “She’s the one you need to watch out for,” I said to the dog. “She gets clumsy when she’s nervous.”
    Carly snickered. “True.”
    In spite of our warnings to Fluffy, we made it to the front door without incident. When I pushed the doorbell, loud , rich chimes sounded inside.
    A middle-aged woman wearing a white blouse tucked neatly in a knee-length black skirt opened the door. We told her our names , and she showed us to a spacious room with floor to ceiling bookshelves and a bay window complete with window seat. Fluffy jumped wildly in her carrier, making sharp yelping noises and scrabbling around. Carly handed me the plastic box , and I set it on the floor but left the door latched.
    “Mr. Hall will be with you in a moment.” S he backed out and closed the double doors behind us. It occurred to me that was what they always meant in old books when they said someone withdrew.
    “This must be the withdrawing room,” I whispered to Carly. She looked at me as if I’d lost it. “Never mind,” I muttered. Jokes that have to be explained are never funny.
    Before we had time to get nosy, the double doors opened again. “Good afternoon.” Lawrence Hall was a good twenty-five years Lisa’s senior, but his white hair and sharp blue eyes gave him a distinguished man-about-town look. All smiles and gracious host, today he did remind me of Mr. Rourke from Fantasy Island .
    “Ah, I see you’ve brought my baby home.” He bent down toward the carrier where Fluffy was making happy squeaky noises. “Thank you.” He opened the carrier and lifted Fluffy out. He was rewarded with a long pink tongue licking him all over the face.
    While he was talking baby talk to Fluffy, Carly looked at me and shrugged. I knew she was remembering our conversation in the car about whether murderers were nice to animals.
    Larry gave us a sheepish grin. “I’ve missed her.”
    I smiled. No kidding. We’d never have guessed.
    He sat down in a leather recliner with Fluffy on his lap.
    “Would you ladies care for some refreshment?” Without waiting for a reply, he rang a bell on the table beside his chair. The woman who had shown us in entered with a tray holding three glasses of iced tea and a plate of home - baked chocolate chip cookies.
    Larry handed us each a glass of tea and held out the plate for us to get a napkin and a cookie.
    “Thanks,” we chorused.
    “Nice weather for September, isn’t it?”