Paw and Order. V.M. Burns
laughed. “I guess murder can put a damper on a fundraiser.”
“I sound horrible, I know, but it’s such a worthwhile cause and this is our biggest event of the year. The funds for this event allow us to rescue poodles from puppy mills and pay for vet services. I was hoping we could raise enough money to pay for extra services which can really improve the quality of life for these dogs.” She sighed. “I would love to create a fund where people who couldn’t afford veterinary care could actually apply and get a grant to fund the services.” She sighed.
Dixie’s heart was as big as the state of Tennessee and when it came to poodles, her compassion was endless.
“Okay, well the weekend isn’t over. We’ve got the poodle specialty this afternoon which should bring in quite a bit of money, right?”
She sighed. “I hope so. We’ve got a lot of poodles registered for the event. The entries have already been paid for and are nonrefundable, but we make quite a bit of money from visitors and concession sales.”
“Then you’re sure to make a fortune.”
She stared at me.
“It’s at Archibald Lowry’s estate.” I stared at her. “People will come out just to be nosy. I don’t know how you convinced the hermit to let you host a trial on his secluded farm.” I stared at my friend. “Are they still going to let you have the event there?”
She nodded. “I talked to his lawyer, first thing this morning. It’s a good thing Archibald signed a contract. I think that’s the only thing that prevented them from cancelling. I’m not sure it’s still valid since he’s dead, but they did agree to allow us to continue.” She smiled shyly. “I promised we’d dedicate the trial in Archibald’s memory, I’m going to make black arm bands for all of the competitors to wear and we’re going to have a moment of silence.”
“Well, that should have pleased them.”
She nodded. “Archibald Lowry really did love poodles, so it is fitting.”
Indulf sighed and snuggled down on her lap.
She handed him to me and pulled her notepad out of purse. “I need to swing by the store and pick up black fabric and scissors.” She looked down at Indulf. “I should buy him a new collar.”
I stared down at the rather gaudy collar he was wearing. It was black leather and looked as though it had been bejeweled. There were large rhinestones in red, clear, green and blue that went around the entire collar. “It does look a bit tacky.”
“A bit?”
I shrugged. “I guess it goes with the name. I don’t know that I can call him Indulf, though.”
“What would you name him?” She glanced in my direction.
“Oh no you don’t.”
She gave me an innocent look. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“You know if I name that dog then I’m going to get attached. I know your sinister games.” I laughed.
“Well, then we’ll just keep calling him Indulf.”
I sighed and stared at the cute bundle of fur. “What about Rex?”
“Rex? That’s Latin for king?”
I smiled. “I was thinking more along the lines of Rex Stout, author of the Nero Wolfe mysteries. I loved those books.”
She smiled and gave the poodle a scratch. “Rex, it is.”
I looked down into a pair of big dark eyes and my heart turned to liquid. “This is a bad idea,” I said as I lifted the little gray fur ball and snuggled him close. “This is a very bad idea.”
Chapter 4
Dixie’s stop at the fabric store for black fabric expanded to include a visit to a major pet store. A couple hundred dollars later, I had purchased a crate large enough for both Rex and Aggie to stand up and turn around, but not big enough for them to use one side for sleeping and another for a toilet. Of course, no trip to a pet store was complete without a harness and leash for Rex, a new harness dress and treats for Aggie and more toys than a couple of poodles could gut in a month. I never dreamed I’d be the type of dog owner who enjoyed dressing my dog up in ridiculous costumes and outfits, but harness dresses were an entirely different matter. Dixie and my vet both recommended harnesses rather than connecting a leash to the dog’s collar. Harnesses had a ring on the body that allowed me to hook the leash to my dog’s back rather than her throat. That prevented pulling on her neck. Toy poodles don’t pull a lot, which can pose a problem for more muscular dogs who pull and could damage their throat with a traditional collar and leash. However, I have yet to break Aggie of jumping on people. She was small and in no danger of overpowering anyone, however apart from the fact that it was bad manners, she had managed to get dirty paw prints on a cream-colored skirt and had ripped a couple of pairs of my hosiery. Harnesses helped control the jumping. The fact that manufacturers placed a tiny skirt on the harness just added to the overall cuteness factor. Aggie pranced around when she wore them, and it never failed to bring a smile to my face.
I told myself I wasn’t buying things specifically for Rex. The larger crate and the male harness would be appropriate when I officially got a second dog. At least that’s what I told myself. The reality was, Rex was already a part of my pack and if I had to give him back, I’d cry and be extremely sad. However, until that day, I intended to enjoy each moment with him and not borrow trouble.
Archibald Lowry lived atop a mountain, but unlike Dixie’s home on Lookout Mountain where there were houses, schools, restaurants and an entire community, Archibald Lowry’s estate was on an extremely isolated area on Signal Mountain.
Dixie traversed the steep narrow roads with confidence and more speed than I would have deemed safe. However, she was familiar with mountain driving.
“Why would anyone want to live out in this wilderness?”
Dixie chuckled. “If you open your eyes and loosen your grip on that door handle, you’ll see that it’s really beautiful up here.”
I opened one eye and quickly shut it. “I’ll take your word for it.”
“Honestly, this is a lot more rural than I would want, but if you like hunting, fishing and nature, it’s amazing.” She glanced in the rearview mirror.
I turned to my friend. “How much nature?”
She glanced in my direction. “Lots of nature. There are bear, wild boar, turkeys.” She shrugged. “The other side of the mountain has a gated community with large three to ten acre lots. There are also bigger lots which are perfect for what they call gentleman farms. Archibald Lowry lived on the larger acreage. I heard he owned over a hundred and thirty acres of land.”
“That had to have cost a small fortune. How did Archibald Lowry make his money?”
She glanced in her rearview mirror. “No one really knows for sure. He came out of nowhere. He dabbled in real estate, mining, importing and exporting, he bought and sold businesses, and pretty much did anything and everything.”
“Seems strange to me.”
Dixie glanced at me sideways as she navigated around a curve and adroitly avoided a fallen tree limb. “Why? Isn’t it called diversifying when you’ve got your fingers in lots of pots?”
“No, I mean it’s strange that there’s not one thing he’s known for.” I paused for a minute to collect my thoughts. “I don’t know that many truly wealthy people. However, if you think about some of the richest people in the country, you can pretty much tell what they did to get their money. Oprah Winfrey was in entertainment, Bill Gates was in software, Warren Buffett invested in the stock market, Sam Walton was in retail.”
Dixie looked in her rearview mirror again. “I see what you mean. Well, I’m sure someone knows