Paw and Order. V.M. Burns
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there wasn’t anything as horrible as a murder on a day like today.
Dixie sneezed. “I love Chattanooga, but all of this pollen is driving me batty.” She took a finger and wrote “pollen sucks” in the heavy layer of yellow film that covered nearly every flat surface, despite my best efforts to wipe it clean.
“Thankfully, I don’t have allergies, but we didn’t have anything like this in Indiana.”
“The weather man said this was the worse pollen season we’ve had in two decades.” She sneezed three times in rapid succession, jostling the small fur ball that had fallen asleep on her lap.
Aggie, my black toy poodle stood on her back legs and sniffed the furry little interloper that distracted attention away from her.
Dixie watched the interplay carefully. I noted she kept a firm arm around the puppy and a close eye on Aggie.
The bundle of fur sat up and looked at Aggie. His body shook with excitement and when Aggie brought her nose close enough, the shaking increased and a tiny pink tongue quickly licked her nose.
Satisfied the fur-ball posed no threat, Aggie sniffed, got back down on the ground and walked away.
Dixie smiled. “See, Aggie approves.”
I looked down at Aggie who lay on the deck near my feet, licking the pollen off her paws.
I stared at Dixie. “Is pollen harmful to pets?”
She stared at Aggie. “I don’t think it’ll hurt her, but dogs can get allergies. Have her eyes been watering a lot?”
I shook my head.
“Have you noticed excessive scratching? Sneezing?”
“Nope.”
She shrugged. “She’s probably fine, but you should ask your vet. It can be hard to tell with dogs. Pollen can get on their fur and paws and be absorbed through their skins. Usually, they’ll scratch more or have hotspots where they bite at one part of their skin.”
Dixie wasn’t a vet, but she was a dog trainer with tons of experience competing and judging dogs, so I trusted her judgment.
I made a mental note to check with my vet. “We have an appointment in two weeks, so I’ll ask then.” I looked down at Aggie who had rolled onto her side and was basking in a ray of sunlight that cascaded through the trees. I smiled and tried to recall what my life had been like prior to adopting this six-pound bundle of joy, but I couldn’t. More importantly, I didn’t want to. I turned my gaze to Dixie who was still holding Indulf.
“Did Archibald Lowry have any family? Maybe he made provision for someone to take his dog if anything happened.” I looked at Dixie. “Is that a thing? Do people make provisions for their dogs?”
She nodded. “Absolutely, and you should figure out who you want to raise Aggie if something happens to you.”
I stared down at Aggie sprawled out on the deck. Geez, who knew owning a dog would involve so many details. I suppose it was time to update my will. My daughter, Stephanie, was a lawyer and she’d updated my will after my husband died. However, that was nearly a year ago. Since both of my children were grown up with lives of their own, I hadn’t thought much about guardianship. I certainly hadn’t thought about it in relation to my dog.
“Technically, you would be fostering little Indulf. If it turns out that Archibald Lowry has family, or made arrangements for him, then you’d have to give him back.” She paused and gazed out over the yard, but I could tell her mind was miles away.
I snapped my fingers. “Earth to Dixie.”
She came back from whatever mental vacation she’d just taken. “I’m sorry. I was just thinking back to a conversation I had with Archibald when I visited him.” She sighed. “I’m pretty sure he said he didn’t have any family, which was why he was interrogating or interviewing, depending on how you look at it, me.”
“I don’t understand.”
“If he had family, then he most likely would have left his money to them. If he didn’t have a will, then that’s what the court would do. They’d give the money to his relatives.” She stared at me. “I’m almost positive he said he didn’t have any relatives.” She puffed out her chest and brandished a Scottish accent. “Last in the line of a distinguished lineage.”
Dixie’s southern drawl didn’t lend itself to a Scottish accent, but she did an admirable job of imitating Archibald Lowry’s mannerisms.
“Well, he was very wealthy and there’s nothing like money to bring distant relations out of the woodwork.”
Dixie frowned.
“What’s wrong?”
She paused. “Did Red say if they had any ideas who could have done this?”
“I haven’t talked to him. He sent me a text at around three this morning to let me know he made it home. He was going to grab a couple of hours of sleep and then head back to work.”
Something in the way her hands fidgeted and her brow unfurled made me ask, “What’s really bothering you?”
She paused. “Honestly, I don’t really know. Something about the whole thing just feels wrong.” I started to ask a question, but she halted me by raising her hand. “I know I’m not making any sense, but I just have this weird feeling that something’s not right.” She shuddered. “By the pricking of my thumbs, something wicked this way comes.”
“Alright, now you’re scaring me. I know you quote everything from the Bible and other great literature to Hee Haw when you’re nervous, but in less than twenty-four hours, you’ve quoted Hamlet, Romeo and Juliet, Macbeth and Julius Caesar.”
She smiled. “Well, I did major in English Literature and technically, I believe you’re the one who quoted Julius Caesar.”
“Stop splitting hairs.
She released a heavy sigh. “I know you don’t want to get involved in another murder and I feel terrible asking you, but I was hoping you would reconsider and pull out your deer stalker one more time and look into who could have killed Archibald Lowry.”
I stared at my friend for several seconds and collected my thoughts. “Let me start by saying, Okay, I’ll do it.” She started to thank me, but this time it was my turn to halt her. I held up a hand. “However, I just want to know, why? Why is this so important?”
Dixie took a deep breath. She looked down on Indulf and thought for a few seconds.
“You know how when you saw that poor woman murdered on that pet camera, you kept thinking how you would feel if someone saw Stephanie murdered? Well, I never had children.” She smiled. “Not the kind with two legs anyway.” She petted Indulf and sighed. “My parents are both dead and I spent a lot of time with older relatives, uncles, aunts and…well, I guess I’ve always had a soft spot in my heart for older people.” She shrugged. “That’s probably why I made sure Chyna and Leia were both registered therapy dogs.” She glanced at me. “You know, we go into nursing homes once a month.” She dropped her gaze. “Some of those older people would just break your heart, especially the ones who don’t get visitors from family or friends. They’re so happy to have someone to talk to, or a warm body to hug.” She snuggled Indulf. “I think Archibald Lowry reminded me of those people.” She shook her head. “I know it doesn’t make any sense. The man was richer than almighty God. He could certainly afford to pay someone to spend time with him, but…”
I reached out and squeezed her hand. “I get it. Archibald Lowry was rich, but he still didn’t have someone to care about him.”
She nodded. Her eyes filled with tears.
“Don’t you dare cry.” I hugged my friend. “You’ll get me started.”
Indulf was caught in between us and wiggled until he was able to lick both of us. We