Paw and Order. V.M. Burns
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A look of fright crossed her face but was quickly replaced with a smile that was more like a grimace. “What makes you ask that?” She forced a fake laugh.
“You found him and you seem really upset…” I tried to make my tone sound concerned rather than accusatory.
“Well, I didn’t know him at all. I just happened upon a dead body.” She fidgeted to turn off the faucets and remove all traces of her discomposure. “Stumbling across someone who’s just been brutally beaten and stabbed would upset any normal person.”
She emphasized normal as though to indicate that I wasn’t. Previously, I felt compassion for her. However, that dried up quickly, especially as she glanced at me as though I was the hired help, which technically I was, but that wasn’t the point.
“How did you know he’d been brutally beaten and stabbed?”
She took a tissue and patted at her face, but then glanced at my reflection in the mirror. “What?”
“He was lying on his stomach, face down. It was impossible to see his face, and you certainly couldn’t have seen the wound.” I wet a tissue and casually wiped the poodle’s paws. “If you just stumbled across his dead body, how did you know he’d been brutally beaten and stabbed.”
“In case you missed it, Nancy Drew, there was a rather large pool of blood beneath him. Anyone with common sense could see that he must have been stabbed.”
Oh, it was on, now. “Nancy Drew was a teenager with a college boyfriend who played varsity sports. My boyfriend is that Tennessee Bureau of Investigations Officer out there and you’ll have to work on your acting skills before you try that routine on him.” If I hadn’t been holding a poodle, I might have given her a neck roll and two finger snaps. Thankfully, Indulf prevented me from being more obnoxious.
After a long pause, she gave a nervous giggle. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be rude. It’s just, well, I barely knew the man and I certainly don’t want to get dragged into this nasty business simply because I stumbled across his body after he was murdered.”
I lowered the eyebrow I’d raised and tried to look as neutral as possible.
She sighed. “I’m just scared. I mean, someone killed that man. If the killer thought I might have seen something, I could be in danger too.”
The fact that it was the truth made this story much more powerful than the last performance she’d tried. She wasn’t covered in blood and despite the four-inch heels, I doubted she could have plunged a knife or sword into Archibald Lowry’s chest. He may not have been a young man, but he looked burly and was probably strong enough to have at least put up a fight. I didn’t believe she killed him, but I still didn’t like her. “Understandable, but what did you see?”
“Not much. I saw the man in the kilt arguing with someone. I couldn’t tell who, because he was behind the pillar. The next thing I know, the other guy takes one of those weapons, bashes the old guy in the face and then plunges…” She took a deep breath and swallowed hard. “That’s when I screamed and ran.”
“Well, you didn’t get far.”
“No, I started to feel sick, so I looked around for a place to…well, you know.” She waved her hand in a manner that made me ask.
“Where’d you get sick?”
“Large planter outside.”
I’d have to remember to tell the cleaning crew.
“I’d just finished when I saw you two coming around the corner.”
There was a knock on the door. “Lilly, are you okay?”
I walked to the door and opened it. “Yes, I’m fine.” I held the door open so Red could enter.
He glanced around and, seeing that we were the only ones here, he walked inside. He turned to the screamer who was reapplying her lipstick. “Are you okay?”
She pursed her lips and then took a tissue and blotted the excess before responding. “Of course, it was just a shock.”
He took out a notepad. “I’m Dennis Olson with the Tennessee Bureau of Investigations and I need to ask you a few questions.”
She turned. “Of course, but as I was telling your girlfriend, I didn’t know the man who was murdered.”
Red glanced at me and I gave a slight shake of my head. “Well, let’s start with your name.”
She paused long enough for me to suspect that the name was a fabrication. “Fiona Darling.” She reached into her bag and pulled out a business card, sauntered over to Red and handed it to him.
She stood so close that when she leaned back against the counter and flipped her thick red hair, it landed on Red’s shoulder. It took every ounce of my willpower to keep from flipping it off.
Red seemed oblivious as he read her card. “Darling Detective Agency?”
“Yes, I’m a private investigator, although I’m not here tonight in any type of professional capacity.” She flashed a smile which nearly blinded me.
I barely noticed her perfume when she was at the other side of the room, however, up close and personal, it was overpowering and caused my eyes to water.
“What did bring you here tonight?” Red asked.
She reached over and scratched Indulf behind the ear. Even though poodles are not known for being aggressive, I wouldn’t have minded if he’d tried to amputate a finger or two. To my dismay, the little traitor merely wiggled and licked her hand.
“Aren’t you cute.” She leaned down and cooed.
Indulf missed another opportunity to show his loyalty and merely wiggled more and licked her hand.
She chuckled. “I just love dogs.” She looked at me. “What kind is he?”
That set off mental alarms. “He’s a poodle.”
She colored, but tried to downplay her faux pas. “Well, of course he is.”
Indulf redeemed himself when he sneezed in her face.
She froze for a few seconds, then took a tissue and patted her skin.
I gave Indulf an extra pat. “Good boy,” I whispered.
“Miss Darling, can you tell me what you saw?” Red asked.
Fiona Darling related the same tale she’d told me, however this time she stressed that she hadn’t seen the actual murderer. She fluttered her eyelashes and leaned in, keeping a hand on Red’s arm much longer than I deemed necessary. I wasn’t a jealous person, but Fiona Darling was an attractive woman, endowed with a couple of attributes which made her stand out. And she was certainly trying to use them to her advantage.
Red asked a few other questions, but then allowed the redheaded gumshoe to leave with a promise to make herself available for further questioning.
Her hips swayed far more than necessary as she sashayed out of the women’s room. When she left, Red turned to me. “What do you think?”
“She wears too much perfume, she practically tossed herself at your feet and she wears way too much makeup. I don’t like her. More importantly, what did you think?” I glanced at him. “She’s an attractive woman.”
“I didn’t notice.”
I stared at him, hand on hip. “Really? You didn’t notice a tall, thin, redheaded bombshell with stunning blue eyes who flung her hair on your shoulder.” I demonstrated the fling.
“Not my type.”
“Really? What part exactly? Tall? Thin? Blue-eyed? Gorgeous? That’s not your type? Are you seriously going to tell me you prefer…what? Short, fat—”
He hovered his