Chow Down (28 page)

“Which was?”

So help me, I half-expected him to say that Larry Kim had thrown
himself
down the steps. At that point, I was almost ready to believe it.

“He turned kind of pale and got this funny look on his face like someone had just punched him in the gut. I remember wondering what he was so upset about. He'd already made one deal, so it wasn't like he could say he didn't know how the game was played.”

“And then?” I asked.

“And then nothing,” said Chris. “Larry reached out and pushed me away from him, like he found me repulsive or something. So I left. Last time I saw him, he was standing in the stairwell, holding Yoda and staring off into space. I don't have any idea what happened after that.”

W
ell
somebody
had to know, I thought, as the elevator bumped to a gentle stop and the doors whooshed open.

I supposed I should have been prepared for the scene before us, but my mind had been on other matters. It was chaos. Bright lights seared my eyes. My ears were assaulted by a cacophony of sound. Cables snaked across the floor. People were everywhere.

Faith took one look at all the commotion and pressed up hard against my thigh. As the two of us stood and stared, I dropped a hand down to steady her. Between the Champions employees and news teams from several local stations, the press conference had drawn a huge crowd. Simone must have been superb at her job to have garnered coverage like this.

Chris and Simone both recovered faster than I did. They moved past me into the lobby and immediately began to work the crowd. Meanwhile Faith and I had to scramble to beat the closing elevator doors.

“Where have you been?” Doug demanded, materializing at my side. He wrapped his fingers around my upper arm and closed them like a vise, as if he was afraid Faith and I might disappear again if he didn't hold on to us.

“I was upstairs with Chris and Simone. We were having a very enlightening discussion.”

Doug steered me toward an alcove on the side of the lobby. The other four finalists were waiting there, bunched together in a tight little group. Nervousness emanated from them like a palpable wave.

Doug growled under his breath. He was clearly not amused by my excuse. “Now is not the time for enlightenment.”

“On the contrary, it may be the only time. Or the last chance we're going to get.”

“For what?”

“To figure out who murdered Larry Kim.”

We'd almost reached the alcove. Abruptly Doug stopped walking. Since he was still holding my arm, I got yanked to a halt, too.

“That's not why we're here.”

“It should be.”

“What is the matter with you?” He jerked his hand back and forth, giving me a rude little shake. “Don't you understand what's at stake here? This is a huge PR opportunity for everyone involved. Champions Dog Food is about to award someone an advertising contract worth one hundred thousand dollars. Think about that for a minute. And think about what you might be jeopardizing if you continue on with this crazy behavior.”

“I have thought about it.” I stepped away and pulled my arm free. I'd had just about enough of Doug's bullying. “And I'm not the one who's acting crazy. Nor am I jeopardizing anything, because I already know what my chances are of winning this contest. They're zero, nada, zip. And you know how I know that? Because the outcome was fixed from the start.”

Somebody gasped. I didn't see who it was, but the small sound was enough to let me know that the other contestants were listening to our conversation.

Ben stepped forward from the group. Brando was at his side. “What are you talking about?”

“Nothing,” Doug said quickly. “Melanie doesn't know what she's saying.”

“I know exactly what I'm saying. This contest is a sham, it has been all along.” I turned and addressed the other finalists. “All the events we've attended, the competitions we've participated in, they were just a waste of time. Chow Down's spokesdog was hand-picked before the other four of us were even selected to be finalists.”

Dorothy looked shocked. Lisa was shaking her head vehemently. Allison and Bill were paying attention though.

“Who is it?” asked Allison. “Who's the winner?”

“Good God!” Doug roared. “You're about to ruin everything.”

His hand raised. For a moment I wasn't sure whether Doug meant to hit me or clap his palm over my mouth to shut me up. It all happened so fast that I didn't have time to move to defend myself.

It turned out that I didn't have to. Ever attuned to the mood of the humans around her, Faith took care of that for me.

As Doug's hand came up, she leapt toward it. Her teeth closed over his wrist and dragged his arm back down. Only when his hand was back at his side did she let go. The Poodle's dark eyes fastened intently on his and their message was clear.
Don't try that again.

The other finalists were all dog people. They didn't even blink when Faith leapt to my defense. Besides, they had bigger things to worry about.

“The contest couldn't have been decided that early,” said Ben. “Cindy told me just last week that she'd been able to sway a couple of votes in my direction.”

“Cindy wanted to date a television star,” I said. “She'd have said anything she thought would keep you happy.”

“
You
were seeing Cindy?” asked Bill.

“What of it?” Ben turned on the other man. “It's not like the rest of you wouldn't have used something to your advantage if you could. Take Dorothy, for instance. She sold Chris Hovick a Scottie puppy. His pet dog is related to MacDuff.”

I remembered that Ben had been sitting near Dorothy and me that day on the bus. He must have been eavesdropping on our conversation.

“They're not the only ones that are related,” I said. “Dorothy is Chris's aunt.”

Doug spun around to face her. “Is that true?”

Dorothy glared at me, then reluctantly nodded.

“That's against the rules,” said Lisa.

“Don't tell me about rules,” Dorothy snapped. “I should have been the one to make up the rules. After all, I'm the one who came up with the idea for the contest in the first place.”

“No, you didn't.” Doug sounded a little desperate. He looked like a man who knew he was losing control of a situation and had no idea how to regain order. “The contest was Simone's idea.”

“That's what Simone told you,” I said. “But she stole the idea from Chris and passed it off as her own.”

Doug shook his head. “Why would she do something like that?”

“Because she needed a way to channel money to her old friend, Lisa. I think you know about that part—”

“I knew it would be about the money,” Bill broke in. “It always is, isn't it? Well, if that's the deciding factor, we need money, too.”

Suddenly everyone was speaking at once.

“Like I don't?” said Ben. “If we're talking about need—”

Lisa looked across at the Reddings. The couple was standing side by side with Ginger between them. “At least you two have each other,” she said softly. “You have no idea how important that is.”

“Wait!” Dorothy cried. “Hold the phone. What did you mean”—this was addressed to me—“when you said Doug knew about Simone needing to get money to Lisa?”

“Lisa wanted to leave Larry,” I said. “The contest was set up to give her the means to do so.”

“No, you have it all wrong,” Dorothy replied. “The contest was supposed to put MacDuff on television.”

“Cindy told me the contest would revive my career,” said Ben.

Nobody paid any attention to him.

“Chris was trying to do what you wanted,” I told Dorothy, “but he lost control of the process. When he realized that the prize that was supposed to go to MacDuff would be going to Yoda instead, he tried to make a deal. He talked to Larry Kim in the stairwell after the opening reception. He offered him money to withdraw his dog from the contest.”

“Larry was a very proud man,” said Lisa. “He would have been hugely insulted by such an offer. He would never have withdrawn for money. He never backed down from anything where he felt that his honor was at stake.”

And there it was, I thought, the answer I'd been looking for. Right that moment, I knew who the other person in the stairwell had been.

“It was you, wasn't it?” I said to Lisa. “Larry would never have voluntarily ended your marriage. That was why you needed the money. It was the only way you could escape.”

“Everything would have been all right.” She shifted her eyes downward, gazing at the little Yorkie she held cradled in her arms. “Not easy, but I would have been able to make things work. Then Chris got in the middle and messed it all up.”

“Chris was trying to help,” I said. “He offered Larry money he thought the two of you needed.”

“Larry was outraged,” said Lisa. “We didn't need any money and he was greatly offended. He felt as though someone had offered him a handout. But then he stopped and began to think about it. He began to wonder what I might need the money for.”

“You were with him in the stairwell after Chris left,” I said. “Your voice is so soft, that's why I only heard one person arguing.”

“Larry had sent me outside to cool off the car but I came back in to see what was keeping him. I must have entered the stairwell on the third floor as Chris was leaving on the fourth. By then the damage was already done. Larry had realized that the money was meant for me. He wouldn't listen to reason. No matter what I said, it didn't make any difference. He told me that unless I changed my mind he would make me very, very sorry. He said I would never see Yoda again.”

While Lisa and I had been speaking, everyone else was, too. Clustered around us, the other finalists had continued to bicker among themselves. Doug was alternately playing referee and trying unsuccessfully to keep them quiet.

Now, however, the audience in the lobby was primed and waiting for our appearance. Simone came striding over to see what was causing the delay.

The other contestants saw her coming. One by one they fell silent. Only Lisa and I continued to speak.

“You pushed Larry down the steps, didn't you?” I said into the sudden silence.

Lisa nodded imperceptibly. She clutched Yoda tightly to her chest. “He wouldn't listen. He never listened. Larry made me so mad that I reached out and shoved him. One of us had to go. If he wouldn't let it be me, then it had to be him.”

 

A quick thinking reporter from a local affiliate caught the confession on tape. When it aired that evening, the station was inundated with phone calls. At least half of them came from lawyers offering to take Lisa's case and represent her in court.

Last I heard, she'd chosen a sympathetic woman attorney who was planning to plead temporary insanity—a defense that probably could have been applied to just about everyone who'd gotten involved in the Chow Down contest. I got that news from Bertie, who had delivered ten Yorkies to Lisa's doorstep as soon as the woman was released on bail. I don't think the board bill's been paid yet. I doubt that Bertie's holding her breath.

After all the commotion finally died down, Ginger was named winner of the contest and the new spokesdog for Chow Down. Coming on the heels of a murderer's confession, the announcement seemed rather anticlimactic. But the Reddings were thrilled and I was delighted for them. Mostly I think I was just relieved that Faith's and my part in the whole circus was finally over.

A few days after the press conference, Terry threw a birthday party for Crawford. He wouldn't tell any of us which birthday we were celebrating, but Davey pointed out that there were enough candles on the triple-layer chocolate cake to send up smoke signals.

Crawford was looking well. He was delighted to be the man of the hour, surrounded by family and friends. Shortly after we arrived, he sought me out. Davey had gone off to toss a ball with some other kids his age; Sam was helping Terry at the grill.

Crawford pulled me aside and said, “I hear you've been asking about me.”

I knew how much he valued his privacy. I hoped he hadn't been offended by my snooping. “I was worried about you,” I said. “I wanted to help.”

“You
always
want to help. Trouble is, sometimes people would rather handle things on their own.” The words sounded harsh, but his smile softened them. Crawford reached out and patted my arm awkwardly. “I appreciate the concern.”

“Is everything okay?”

“Getting better all the time, now that the doctors know what to treat.” He shook his head. “Lyme Disease. Living in Connecticut, you'd think they'd have come up with that idea sooner. But at my age they test for everything else in the book first. And the symptoms can seem pretty dire when you don't have any idea what's causing them.”

Amen to that, I thought. Just about everyone I knew had had a bout with Lyme Disease. The diagnosis came as a relief. With proper treatment, chances were that Crawford would be back to normal shortly.

“The medication's helping?” I asked.

“Doing its job, just like it's supposed to, so you can stop worrying now.”

“I'm a mother. We never stop worrying.”

“Speaking of which”—Crawford drew back and looked me up and down—“rumor has it, you might be about ready to share some news on that front.”

He'd caught me by surprise. “What rumor? Who have you been talking to?”

“Never you mind,” Crawford said with a chuckle. “But now you know what it feels like to have other people messing around in your business for a change.”

I wondered who'd let the cat out of the bag. Sam and I had found out for sure only the day before. We'd told Davey, who'd leaped and yelled and twirled around the kitchen.

Davey was supposed to be keeping the news a secret for the time being. We didn't want to make an announcement until the pregnancy was further along. But now I was betting that Davey had emailed Aunt Peg. No wonder she'd been casting me such fond looks all afternoon.

“I hope it's true, Melanie,” Crawford said. “You look happy.”

“I
am
happy. Sometimes I think I must have landed in the middle of a fairy tale. I look around and realize I have everything I ever wanted.”