Chow Down (25 page)

Standing beside the producer was Lisa Kim. Yoda was cradled in her arms.

“Holy crap,” Ben said under his breath. “Where did she come from?”

Lisa smiled uncertainly as if she wasn't sure of her welcome. But the producer had already placed his hand between her shoulder blades and was pushing her forward, out in front of the cameras.

Live TV, I thought. You had to love it.

“W
hat have we here?” Darren said smoothly, “It looks as if there's one more dog to add to our lineup.”

When the camera shifted to pick up Lisa and Yoda, the pet expert glared daggers at the producer, who ignored his fit of pique and pointed to his watch. Good thing Darren had recovered quickly; I had a feeling the rest of us looked like we were in shock.

Simone's hands, resting on the back of the bench near my shoulder, had tightened their grip until her knuckles turned white.

Dorothy was shaking her head. “No way,” she muttered. “No way . . .”

I just stared, listening while Darren introduced our late arrival. Lisa's posture was stiff and her smile looked strained. The cameraman pulled in for a close-up shot of Yoda, then simply stayed there. At least the Yorkie, with her topknot tied up with a jaunty blue bow, looked cute.

Darren had rearranged his copy before the segment started and now with the unexpected addition, he found himself running short of time. He showcased the Yorkie briefly, threw in a quick wrap-up, then cued Darlene and Rob. A minute later the show cut to commercial. Our first television appearance was history.

As soon as the lights dimmed and the cameras focused elsewhere, Lisa strode off the set and into the wings. Doug immediately went hurrying after her.

Simone looked as though she wanted to follow, then thought better of it. Instead she went the other way; I watched as she thanked the cohosts and the producer for their help with our appearance.

A technician slipped in behind me and unhooked my microphone. When that was done, I stood up and stretched, then gave Faith a pat. I was happy our part was over; and happier still that we hadn't acquitted ourselves too badly.

Bill, looking bemused, was gazing in the direction that Lisa and Doug had disappeared. “
What
is going on around here?” he asked.

“Beats me,” said Ben. He yanked off his own mic and handed it back. “Lisa certainly stole our thunder, showing up at the last moment like that, didn't she?”

She had indeed. It wasn't hard to imagine that our earlier contributions would have been all but eclipsed by the adorable image of the little Yorkie that had stayed onscreen throughout the last sixty seconds of the piece.

“She can't do that,” Dorothy said firmly. “I'm going to file a protest.”

“Can't do what?” I asked.

“She can't just drop out of the contest and then drop back in again. It ought to be against the rules.”

“Technically, I don't think she ever dropped out. And thanks to her eleventh-hour arrival today, Yoda hasn't missed any of our appearances.”

“We'll just see about that,” said Dorothy.

She started to stalk away but Chris materialized from somewhere behind the cameras and grabbed her. Arm around her shoulder, he herded the older woman toward the exit door.

Lisa and Doug hadn't returned. And by now Simone and Cindy had disappeared as well. It was time for us to leave.

Preappearance, we'd had people with us every minute, telling us where to go and what to do. Now suddenly everyone had lost interest in us. The staff and the producers were moving on to upcoming topics, and we were on our own.

Bill and Allison found a spot in the wings from which to watch the remainder of the show. Ginger lay down quietly at their feet. Ben took Brando and went hurrying back to the green room. I wondered if he was looking to smooth things over with Cindy. Faith and I rode the elevator down to the ground floor by ourselves.

I figured we'd go get our car, drive home to Connecticut, and that would be that. But of course, in my life, nothing is ever that simple. Come to think of it, I'd probably be disappointed if it was.

Instead Faith and I exited the building and ran right into Lisa, Doug, Simone, and Cindy. The four of them, plus Yoda, were standing in a tight little cluster in the middle of the sidewalk. All of them looked angry, and it sounded as though they were all trying to talk at once.

I could only catch snatches of what was being said. Doug and Cindy were berating Lisa. She was attacking them right back. Simone was placing blame on anyone and everyone.

Smokers, gathered in the shade of the building, were listening in avidly. Even jaded New Yorkers didn't get to see a live show this entertaining every day. It was enough to make me want to walk past the whole bunch and pretend that I didn't know any of them.

Instead sympathy slowed my pace. Well . . . maybe that and a little curiosity. Faith sensed my ambivalence and used that as an excuse to detour over toward the group and touch noses with Yoda. For once the Toy dog was on the ground rather than in her owner's arms.

In that brief moment of hesitation on my part, Lisa felt the slight tug on her leash, glanced over to see what was causing it, and caught my eye. She looked stressed, unhappy, and desperately in need of rescuing.

I didn't even stop to think. I simply veered in, linked my arm through hers, and said firmly, “Come on. Let's get out of here.”

For a second, I didn't think she'd come. But Lisa wanted an escape and I'd conveniently offered her one. She swooped down, grabbed Yoda up off the sidewalk, and away we went.

It all happened so fast that Doug was still speaking as we made our getaway. I was pretty sure I heard Simone gasp.

“Hey!” Cindy cried in protest.

Lisa and I didn't stop. We didn't look back either. Our pace didn't slow down until we'd turned the corner. Then I took a deep breath and checked to make sure that no one was following us.

Fortunately the coast was clear. It would have been a little embarrassing if we'd had to start to run. Faith probably would have enjoyed herself though.

“Where are we going?” Lisa asked after a minute had passed. She sounded perfectly content to follow my lead.

“Home.” I steered her toward the parking garage where I'd left the Volvo. “Back to Connecticut. How did you get here?”

“By train. Metro-North.”

“With Yoda?”

Lisa nodded. “She's small enough to fit inside my bag and she knows enough to keep quiet. The conductors never notice and the other passengers think it's cute.”

“Well unless you have an objection, you can drive back out with me and Faith. I'll drop you off at the train station where you left your car.”

Doing so would take me out of my way but under the circumstances that hardly seemed to matter. Fate had just handed me a golden opportunity to find out what the heck was going on, and I wasn't about to pass it up.

“Sounds good,” said Lisa.

After the verbal pummeling I'd just witnessed, I got the impression that anything that put distance between her and the Champions crew would have sounded good.

I retrieved the Volvo and we pulled out into city traffic, which had grown exponentially in the last several hours. Lisa sat in silence, which was fine by me; I needed to concentrate on not missing any turns or hitting any double-parked cars.

By the time we'd crossed the bridge back out of Manhattan and were zipping along the highway, however, I was ready to hear some answers. Faith, who'd given up her shotgun position to Lisa, was curled up on the back seat. Yoda was tucked in beside her. I turned off the radio and set the stage. No distractions, no excuses.

With luck, Lisa would chalk up my intrusiveness to the cost of being rescued. The woman owed me something, didn't she?

“You caused quite a sensation showing up like you did back there,” I said.

“Ummm.”

She might have been agreeing with me. Then again, she might just have been stretching her lips. It was hard to tell.

Lisa folded her hands in her lap and stared determinedly out the windshield. Like she was afraid that if she took her eyes off the road, we might hit something. It wasn't the most promising start to a conversation.

“So what's up?”

“Up?” Her gaze flickered my way.

“You know . . . Everyone's been looking for you. Where have you been?”

“Looking for me?” Lisa sounded amazed. As if this was the first she'd heard of that.

“That's what happens when people disappear.” Up until this point I'd had very little interaction with Lisa. Maybe I'd overlooked the fact that she was mentally challenged. “Other people look for them.”

This time she actually turned and looked at me. “I didn't disappear.”

“When we got back from Central Park last week, you and Yoda left Champions but never arrived home. Nobody knew where you were.”

“Oh that.”

Yes that!
I wanted to scream. But I'm a teacher, I've had practice holding my tongue.

“That was no big deal. I just needed . . .” She stopped and thought. “I guess I needed a little time off.”

Though I was tempted, I refrained from drumming my fingers on the steering wheel. Instead I reminded myself that patience was a virtue to be cultivated, even under trying circumstances.

“I can see that,” I said. “There's been a fair amount of upheaval in your life recently.”

A grimace twisted Lisa's mouth. “You can say it, you know. My husband died. It's amazing how many different ways people find to dance around the reality. It's like everybody thinks that if they come up with a suitable euphemism, it will make all of us feel better. Well, maybe it works for them, but it doesn't for me.”

All righty then. Since we were done trying to put a nice face on things, she wasn't the only one who could be blunt.

“Larry died under suspicious circumstances,” I said.

“Another reason why I felt I needed to get away.”

Fortunately most of the traffic on the highway was heading into the city. I could take my eyes off the road without fear of causing a major pileup. “Were you afraid? Did you feel threatened?”

“No . . . Yes . . . No.” She didn't sound sure of either answer. I put that aside for the time being.

“There must have been something that made you run away. After all, you left all your dogs behind.”

“Not Yoda. And besides, a friend was looking after the others.”

Judging by her dismissive tone, she seemed to think that the fact that she'd left first Sue, and now Bertie, holding the bag was unimportant.

“Only for one day. Sue expected you to be back that afternoon.”

“What can I say? I had a change of plans.”

“Caused by what?”

Lisa turned and leveled a look my way. “Is that really any of your business?”

Well . . . No. But I wasn't about to admit that. Instead I zigzagged the conversation in another direction.

“Would you like to know where your Yorkies are now?”

“I assume they're right where I left them.”

“No, they're not. Sue had other things to do. She took the dogs and boarded them at a nearby kennel.”

Lisa swore under her breath. I wondered if she was picturing the size of her board bill. Good. That meant that Bertie stood a chance of being paid for her time and trouble.

“If you'd given your friend the courtesy of letting her know your plans, you could have had a say in what happened to your dogs,” I pointed out. The fact that Lisa was annoyed didn't slow me down. If anything, it made me want to push her harder. “Sue had no idea when you'd be coming back. She called around to all your friends. She contacted the local police.”

“Then she overreacted.”

“You left behind your entire family of dogs. They were sitting in pens in your basement. Who would do something like that if they had a choice? Sue was worried about you. She thought maybe something terrible had happened.”

“The Yorkies weren't my family,” Lisa said shortly. “They were Larry's. His dream, his mission, his accomplishment. It's not that I don't care about what happens to them, but I'm not about to let them run my whole life anymore. You know what showing can be like . . .”

She looked at me and I nodded.

“It takes over everything if you let it. People get obsessed with competing, with winning. I've spent my life doing exactly what was expected of me. I've always been the good girl who did what other people wanted. And where did all that good behavior get me? Nowhere that I wanted to be. It was time I did something for myself for a change.”

I pondered that as we zipped across the New York–Connecticut border. It sounded as though Lisa's problems had started long before her husband's death.

“Was Larry one of those people who was obsessed with winning?” I asked.

“Yes. Of course, I never could have admitted that before. Larry would have found my words unseemly and disloyal. Even now, it's hard for me to realize that he's really gone and I can speak my mind as I choose.”

“Your marriage wasn't a happy one.”

“It had its happy moments. More in the beginning than later. I thought I married for love. Afterward I found out that my husband saw me as little more than another prize that had been worth pursuing and winning.”

“So,” I said, probing carefully, “I guess you're not sorry he's dead.”

“Of course I'm sorry he's dead!” Lisa snapped. “I only wanted to be free of him. I didn't want him to die.”

So she said. I wondered if a lie detector would turn up a different answer.

“Why didn't you get a divorce?”

“I was working my way toward that. That was the whole point.”

Huh?

“The point of what?” I asked.

“Of entering Yoda in the contest. In order to win my freedom, I had to have a plan, a place to go, a source of income. Of all our dogs, only Yoda was mine and mine alone. She was the one who would provide me with what I needed to make my escape.”