Swan for the Money: A Meg Langslow Mystery

Darby’s farm,” I said. “And now that we know Mrs. Winkleson was the murderer, it makes the dognapping more of a mystery than ever.”
    “I’m sure Mimi’s fine,” Caroline said. “And if she isn’t found— well, isn’t it really for the best? I’m sure such a sweet, affectionate little creature will have no trouble finding a happy home wherever she is.”
    “Yes,” Marston said. “All the staff are very fond of Mimi. We all wish her the best.”
    He was looking at Caroline with a peculiar intensity.
    “Don’t worry,” Caroline said.
    I had the sinking feeling that Caroline wasn’t just trying to be reassuring— that she knew very well that Mimi was fine because she knew exactly where Mimi was.
    She and Marston smiled at each other. The tiny maid was beaming with delight. I realized exactly what must have happened. Marston and the maids had rescued Mimi from her unhappy home with Mrs. Winkleson. Caroline and my grandfather had used me to get onto the property so they could smuggle Mimi out. I’d probably actually witnessed the handoff in the gazebo.
    “Mimi’s not bad for a yappy little dog,” Dr. Blake said. “We were originally thinking maybe Spike could use a mate.”
    “If and when they found Mimi,” Caroline said, giving him a sharp dig in the ribs.
    “What? Oh, right,” my grandfather said. “If and when.”
    “And then, no doubt, you remembered that Spike has been fixed, and wouldn’t be much of a mate for poor Mimi,” I said. “Not to mention the fact that Spike lives in Chief Burke’s jurisdiction. Somehow I doubt if the chief will give up on finding Mimi quite so easily. After all, dognapping’s a felony.”
    Marston and Caroline looked at me as if I’d thrown a large toad into the center of an elegantly set table.
    “Only so much time and money he can afford to spend on one missing dog,” my grandfather said. “Especially when the one person who wants the dog found will have a few other things on her mind.”
    And especially since the chief, a dog lover himself, might be in sympathy with Mimi’s liberators. I just hoped the new home they were planning for Mimi was far enough away to be safe. And that someone who could easily afford it, like my grandfather, found some way of conveying to Mrs. Winkleson a sum of money that far exceeded even her most inflated notions of what Mimi was worth. I’d tackle him about it later, with no eavesdroppers.
    “Speaking of the chief, what’s he doing still here?” Dr. Blake said. “Shouldn’t he be down at the station, putting thumbscrews on Mrs. Winkleson?”
    “His wife’s an exhibitor,” I said. “He’s probably waiting to see how she did. The judges shouldn’t be too much longer.”
    “I hope not,” Dr. Blake said, glancing at his watch. “We should hit the road. Long drive ahead of us.”
    “We can spare a few more minutes to see how the young people did in their show,” Caroline said. By young people, I realized, she meant my parents.
    “True,” my grandfather said. “But let’s not stand around here wasting time. We could inspect the goats again.”
    They strolled off arm in arm.
    “A long drive?” I echoed. “He got his license back?”
    “I’m taking them,” Rob said. “Do you know a town called Abingdon?”
    “Yes,” I said. “That should be far enough.”
    “Far enough for what?” Rob said.
    “Far enough to qualify as a long drive,” I said.
    “How far is it?”
    “At least six hours. It’s almost in Tennessee.”
    “Yikes,” he said, reaching for the rye bread. “I’d better pack provisions.”
    “Get them to take you to a nice restaurant,” I said. “Abingdon has several. What are they rescuing now?”
    “Dunno,” Rob said. “They didn’t say. Maybe they just want to do a little sightseeing. Hey, what’s in that one?”
    He was pointing to yet another brown parcel, indistinguishable from the deli packages that littered the table, except that Michael was keeping this one on his lap.
    “Special surprise for Meg,” Michael said, moving it under the table and out of Rob’s reach.
    “Sorry,” Rob said, sounding unrepentant. “If it’s anything good, save me some, will you?” he added to me. “I’ll try to guilt trip Gramps into some good meals on the trip. Come on, Spike, let’s go bark at the goats one last time.”
    With that, he and Spike strolled off.
    “Sightseeing?” Michael repeated.
    “I wouldn’t bet on it,” I said. Should I tell him about Mimi?