The Scottie Barked At Midnight (7 page)

Desdemona's lips pursed in annoyance. She perched on the edge of a nearby chair, coat clutched in front of her, one foot jiggling. “There are five left.” Her fingers toyed with the strap of her purse. “Willetta Farwell is a singer. Hal Quarles is a stand-up comic. Oscar Yates is the magician—The Great Umberto, he calls himself. You've already met his assistant, Iris. Then there's Mo Heedles. Mo is short for Maureen, but she never uses her full name. She juggles. And Elise Isley is an exotic dancer.”

“Exotic—you mean she's a stripper?”
Variety Live
might not be live, but it certainly did offer variety.

“Don't let her hear you call her that.” Desdemona came close to smiling. “She's also the only other act left that features an animal. She bills herself as Elise and her Mighty Python and performs with a snake named Eudora.”

Liss felt her eyes widen. “A
python?
Isn't that dangerous?”

“I'm told Eudora is quite friendly, although it probably wouldn't be a good idea to let her wrap herself around your neck.”

“Is there anything else I need to be warned about?”

“I can't think of anything. Of course, I don't know any of these people well. I only visited once during the first half of the competition and I didn't come to Maine until Mother phoned to tell me that Dandy was missing. I arrived on Tuesday, the same day you returned her.”

More surprises,
Liss thought. She'd been operating under the assumption that Desdemona had been at Five Mountains with her mother all along. “You
are
planning to return here after the funeral, aren't you?”

“Well, I have to, don't I? I'll have to do something about those dratted dogs.”

Liss stared at her. Whatever Desdemona had in mind for Dandy and Dondi, it didn't sound as if she intended to provide them with a loving forever home.

Desdemona shot to her feet, overturning her purse as she did so. The papers in the outside pocket spilled out. With an impatient exclamation, she knelt to gather them up and stuff them back in, waving Liss away when she got up to help.

“I need to get going. Give me a hand with the bags and I'll show you where to go to reclaim your dance partners from Valentine.”

Liss wanted to tell her she couldn't leave yet, not while Liss still had questions. Instead, she did a quick mental sort and pulled out the most pressing one. “Did your mother keep a written record of her dance routines?”

Desdemona made a brief detour to the desk to rummage through the drawers. “There's a spiral-bound notebook somewhere. The kind students use. Ah, here it is.”

She handed it over, then immediately began hauling her luggage into the hallway. Liss had only time enough for a quick peek at the pages, but what she saw was reassuring. Deidre had recorded a series of routines she'd worked out for herself and the two dogs. She hadn't used formal dance notation, but her descriptions and the little diagrams she'd drawn to go with them should be simple enough to interpret. Even so, Liss knew she had some homework to do before she'd be ready for the first performance.

An impatient tapping—fingernails on doorframe—reminded her that Desdemona had a plane to catch. Together they lugged all three bags to the elevator. In the parking lot behind the hotel, after they'd stashed the suitcases in the trunk of Deidre's rental car, Desdemona led the way to an enormous RV. Even before she knocked on the door, extraordinarily loud barking broke out from the other side.

“Good grief! All that noise from such small dogs?” If Liss hadn't known Dandy and Dondi were the ones making the racket, she'd have sworn there was a Great Dane inside . . . or at least a collie. Most dogs the size of the Scotties just yapped, an annoying sound that always reminded her of the toy dog she'd been given for Christmas when she was nine.

A voice, raised to be heard above the din, yelled, “It's open. Come on in.”

Desdemona gestured for Liss to enter first. She'd barely stepped inside before the two Scotties threw themselves at her, nearly knocking her off her feet.

“Down!” she ordered, laughing. They responded by circling her in a joyous dance and then, to her delight, stood up on their hind legs and waved their front paws at her. “Does this mean you're glad to see me?”

The look of adoration in Dandy's expressive eyes gave her the answer she hoped for.

“Be with you in a minute.” The throaty voice belonged to a strawberry blonde. At first that was all Liss could see of Valentine Veilleux—a mass of hair spilling halfway down her back. The photographer sat hunched over a computer monitor, giving commands with deft clicks of a mouse. Only after she'd saved the file and gone back to her home screen did she swivel her chair around to face Liss and Desdemona.

“Valentine, Liss. Liss, Valentine,” Desdemona said.

Valentine Veilleux shoved at glasses that had slipped to the end of her nose and were in imminent danger of falling off. Liss caught a brief glimpse of pretty green eyes before Valentine slid thick lenses in front of them.

“Nice to meet you, Liss. If you ever need to go somewhere dogs aren't allowed, I'm always happy to have their company.”

“I'll keep that in mind.”

A sharp click sounded as Desdemona attached Dandy's leash to her collar. Dondi eluded her, squirming into the storage space beneath the sofa to avoid being caught.

“Come out of there, you little beast!”

He ignored her. Dandy, deciding this was some interesting new game, barked with delight and tried to crawl in with her brother. Desdemona swore, threatening both dogs with bodily harm if they made her miss her plane. She stamped her foot, looking for all the world like a child on the brink of a temper tantrum.

“Stand back,” Liss told her, and got down on hands and knees. “Dondi? Dondi, sweetie. Come here, little one.”

As she waited for some response, her butt sticking up in the air and her face all but on the floor of the RV, it occurred to Liss that Desdemona had no need to stick around. She'd already given Liss the key to the suite. She'd brought her to the two Scotties. She was free to leave for the airport at any time. Liss was about to remind her of this fact when a wiry black head popped out from beneath the sofa. Liss snapped the leash in place. Tugging gently, she finished extracting Dondi from his hiding place.

“Wretched creature,” Desdemona grumbled. “One more trick like that and he's going to end up in the dog pound, and not one of those humane ones, either.”

Liss and Valentine exchanged a look of consternation. Liss hoped Desdemona was just letting off steam, but she had the uneasy suspicion that Deidre's daughter, the new owner of the two Scottish terriers, meant every venom-filled word.

Chapter Four

O
nce Desdemona had left for the airport, Liss returned to the suite with Dandy and Dondi. They had a lot of work to do to prepare for the dress rehearsal scheduled for the following day. Before she settled in, though, she took a few minutes to explore her new surroundings.

The two rooms in her corner suite looked as if they'd been decorated by the same person who'd done Deidre's condo . . . with a smaller budget. The chairs and sofa weren't leather here, and there was no fireplace, but otherwise the layout was similar. The front room was sectioned off into a minuscule kitchen area, a dining area with table and four straight chairs, and a living area where the furniture was cozily arranged so that the occupant could sit and watch TV, converse with friends, or simply enjoy the spectacular view.

Five Mountains had been aptly named, although someone living in the Rockies might dispute the issue. Such as they were, Mount Dennis, Sandy Mountain, Lawrence Peak, Old Tumbledown, and Pious Ridge rose up to circle the valley in which the ski lodge, hotel, and condominiums had been built. Three out of the five boasted ski slopes ranging in difficulty from bunny to are-you-sure-you're-brave-enough-to-try-this-one?

The vista spread out before the windows in the bedroom was just as impressive. Liss discovered that she had a balcony. It wrapped around the corner, so that if she stepped out through a pair of French doors, she'd be able to see for miles . . . if she wanted to risk frostbite. Fortunately, she didn't need to brave the cold air to orient herself. The windows on one side, like those in the other room, were at the front of the hotel. She was high enough to see most of the long, straight private drive that led from the resort to the highway—a two-lane state road that connected Five Mountains to Moosetookalook, Fallstown, and points south. The rest of the balcony was directly above the driveway that circled the hotel to access the parking lot at the back.

Liss wasn't a skier. Going out to play in the snow had never tempted her. But she could admire the pretty, pristine whiteness, divided by plantations of evergreens and broken by the jagged lines that were, in fact, carefully groomed trails. She stood where she was for a few more minutes, admiring the view.

Dondi let out a yelp when she turned away and nearly tripped over him. Both dogs were right behind her, looking up at her with such hopeful expressions on their faces that she had to laugh. Hands on hips, she sent them what she hoped was a stern look. “You can't be hungry again!”

If she hadn't known better, she'd have sworn Dandy nodded.

Liss led them into the tiny kitchenette and found the dog treats. She checked to be certain there was water in their dog dishes while she was there, aware as she did so that she was procrastinating. It was time to get to work.

After she hunted up the packet of information Desdemona had left for her, Liss ordered a light lunch from room service. While she waited for it to be delivered, she skimmed the contents, looking for any nuggets of information she might have missed earlier. Since nothing jumped out at her, she set the material aside when her food arrived and popped the DVD Deidre had given her into the player. She needed to see what she'd gotten herself into.

This was the season, she remembered, that Deidre and her Dancing Doggies had won their title. That meant none of the other contestants would be the same as those competing in the current show. That didn't matter. What Liss wanted to get a good look at were the dance routines. Although Desdemona had assured her she'd have no trouble getting the dogs to perform, and she had already spent a little time studying the diagrams and instructions in Deidre's spiral-bound notebook, she needed to get a clearer picture of exactly how the routines were executed.

When the acts were introduced for the first time, Liss waited with keen anticipation for Deidre's appearance. As she'd half expected, given that the woman was dancing with two Scottish terriers, she was wearing a kilt, but it was a kilt unlike any Liss had ever seen. It was
very
short, ending midway down Deidre's thick thighs. The tartan was one Liss was positive no clan would ever claim. The pattern was picked out in bright-colored glitter. On Deidre's short, stocky form, the outfit was not flattering, but it was certainly eye-catching.

All the contestants wore similarly glitzy and revealing clothing. It didn't seem to matter what their talent was. While Roy Eastmont delivered his opening remarks as MC, Liss fished through the material Desdemona had left for her. A page she'd hitherto overlooked, headed
POLICY ON COSTUMES
, elaborated on the terms she'd already agreed to when she'd signed Eastmont's paperwork.

Variety Live
provided contestants with costumes, and the show's costume designer had the final say about what they wore in performances. Liss tried to tell herself that she felt relieved. She'd been saved the trouble and expense of providing her own outfits.

She didn't buy her own argument. The costume policy gave her one more thing to worry about. She had a decent figure and shapely legs and didn't embarrass easily, but she also had a long scar running down one knee. She didn't relish the idea of showing it off to the entire
Variety Live
viewing audience.

Reaching for the clicker, Liss fast-forwarded the DVD to the start of Deidre's first performance. Once she'd gotten past the short kilt and the glitter, she realized that although Deidre was wearing tap shoes, she only seemed to know one combination of steps. She repeated it several times, but for the most part, her “dance” consisted of posing and using a series of hand signals to get Dandy and Dondi to strut their stuff and look cute.

“Oh, boy,” Liss muttered. Was she supposed to perform on Deidre's level, or her own?

Making good use of fast-forward, Liss skipped ahead, viewing only Deidre's dance numbers in each show. In one, the dogs formed a conga line. For another, Dandy and Dondi posed as a canine version of Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers, much as they had in the calendar photo Liss had seen.

Although the dancing involved was minimal, in the end Liss had to admire what Deidre had accomplished. Liss had always heard that Scotties were a tough breed to train and that they condescended to learn tricks only when it suited them. It seemed to her that they must have been very fond of Deidre. They'd tried hard to please her, even if all they ended up doing were variations of sit, stand, and spin.

In her spiral-bound notebook, Deidre had written down the hand signals she used as commands. The illusion of dancing came as much from her movements as from what the dogs did. As Liss watched the screen and studied the pages from Deidre's notebook, her admiration continued to grow. Deidre had cleverly designed routines that showcased the dogs. She hadn't been half bad at acting, either, a talent that was part and parcel of any successful dancer's repertoire. Liss anticipated few difficulties in duplicating Deidre's steps, but making the whole package come together smoothly would take practice. Lots and lots of practice.

Liss hit the button to eject the DVD.

The Scotties had fallen asleep on the other end of the sofa. They weren't curled up together, the way cats did when they slept, but each of them had stretched out a leg so that their paws touched.

Did they miss Deidre? Liss wondered. Did they understand that she was gone for good? Liss had caught Dandy, once or twice, looking at the door as though she expected someone to walk into the room any minute.

Then again, perhaps Dandy and Dondi were accustomed to extended separations from their owner. Liss had no idea what Deidre's ordinary life had been like.
Variety Live
might or might not be the first reality competition show the trio had entered.

Liss looked again at the diagrams in the notebook. She sighed. Time enough in the morning to start putting the dogs through their paces. She set aside Deidre's notes and stared into space. No matter how much she practiced with Dandy and Dondi, chances were good that the act would be eliminated in the next round. If that was the case, it hardly mattered how well they performed their routine.

She wished the current season was already out on DVD. She'd like to take a look at her competition.

The penny dropped a moment later. The champion of champions edition of
Variety Live
might not yet be in stores, but it ought to be available On Demand. A few clicks with the remote took her to an index of episodes.

From the information in her packet, Liss knew that the hour-long show was broadcast on one of the minor networks on Monday nights. On Tuesdays, there was a half-hour results show. The On Demand index listed original air dates, which told her something else. In reality, the surviving contestants had just enjoyed a nice long hiatus. To the show's viewers, the first seven episodes and results shows had been airing “live” each of the last seven weeks. An awards show was scheduled to preempt the coming week's episodes, but when
Variety Live
returned the following Monday, fans would believe that the break had lasted only seven days.

That awards show was a stroke of luck for the producers, Liss thought. If they'd started recording the remaining shows a week sooner, they'd be hard-pressed now to explain how Deidre could still appear “live” after she was dead. Telling viewers their “fan favorite” was deceased would be tricky enough. Liss wondered how big a deal the producers intended to make of it, and how they'd explain bringing her in as Deidre's replacement.

She selected the season premiere and settled back to watch.

After the usual hype and two commercial messages, Roy Eastmont appeared on the screen, smile genial and blue eyes bright as sapphires, to introduce the champions from twelve previous seasons. Six acts would be eliminated in the course of the first seven episodes. Liss identified them as a ventriloquist, a lion tamer, a singing family, a dance troupe, a gymnastics trio, and a singing duet.

The other performers interested her more—the ones who were still in the running. Even though she knew that first impressions were rarely accurate, and that the onstage persona of a performer didn't always match the offstage personality, Liss made a list and scribbled notes beside each name as she watched the show.

Since she was yawning well before the credits ran, she decided against watching the remaining episodes that night. She had turned off the TV and was about to go to bed when both Scotties suddenly woke up and started barking. In unison, they flung themselves off the sofa and raced toward the door to the hallway. The sound of someone knocking could barely be heard over the racket they made.

“Nothing like an early-warning system,” Liss said. “Good dogs.”

Her years on the road, almost always staying in far less luxurious hotels than this one, had taught her to double lock the door as soon as she arrived and to look through the peephole first if anyone wanted to come in. The latter precaution revealed two visitors. One was Iris Jansen, the magician's assistant she had already met. Standing beside her was a plump, chocolate-skinned woman Liss recognized as another of the remaining contestants—the singer, Willetta Farwell.

Judging by the performance Liss had seen, the woman had a heck of a set of pipes. In the premiere, she'd been wearing a glittery floor-length ball gown. In this more casual setting, she'd opted for stretchy black yoga pants and a long, loose green velour tunic. Aware that Liss would be looking out at her from the other side of the door, she aimed a brilliant smile at the peephole and waggled her fingers in greeting. Liss undid the locks and opened the door.

The dogs retreated, losing interest now that they knew who'd been knocking.

Watching them race away, Iris's eyes filled with tears. “I can't believe she's gone. She was such a nice woman.” Sniffling, she accepted the box of tissues Liss grabbed from an end table.

While Iris dabbed at her damp cheeks and blew her nose, Willetta went down on one knee to open her arms to the Scotties. Dondi accepted the invitation and gave her a thorough face licking. She didn't seem to mind. She gave him a head rub and scratched behind his ears. Dandy watched, but didn't come close enough to get the same treatment. With a shrug, Willetta stood up and turned her attention to Liss.

“Hi. I'm Willetta. Liss, right?”

“Right.”

Although Willetta's tone of voice was friendly, her gaze was cool and assessing. “I hope we're not disturbing you, but when I heard that Desdemona had found someone to fill in for her mom, I was curious.”

“Perfectly natural. Won't you sit down? I was planning to introduce myself to everyone tomorrow.” She indicated Deidre's spiral-bound notebook and the clamshell case next to the DVD player and the television. “I thought I should do a little homework first.”

“We've all been so upset about what happened.” Iris's voice was so choked up that her words were barely intelligible.

Willetta gave the entire room a long, slow appraisal that ended when she picked up the list of names Liss had been annotating. “Studying the competition?”

Liss twitched it out of her fingers. “In part. Mostly, I'm trying to get a feel for the choreography.”

Willetta chuckled. “Even I can tell you what that entails—step, brush, ball-change, step-heel, stamp. Repeat with an occasional shuffle.”

“Even a simple routine takes practice.” Liss heard the defensive tone in her voice and smiled to moderate the effect. It was foolish to resent any criticism of Deidre's act just because the woman was dead, especially when Willetta had hit the nail on the head.

“You'll have an uphill battle, no matter how much you rehearse. Playing catch-up is no fun.”