eleven
DOWNWARD DOGGIE WAS located in a bland business complex. Stolid companies flanked the yoga studio; one neighbor boasted stellar tax advice, while the other offered drop-dead rates on life insurance.
I dragged Marshmallow into the doggie gym’s lobby, where a peppy strawberry blonde greeted me. “Hello! Are you here to register for classes?”
“No, I’m auditing a yoga class, the one Lauren Dalton’s in. Pixie St. James arranged the details.”
“That’s right. Unfortunately, Lauren’s class is almost over, but you can sneak in.” The woman spotted Marshmallow and frowned. “You know the class is for dogs, right?”
“Aren’t you a little pet-ist?” Marshmallow said.
“No problem,” I told the woman. “We won’t disturb anyone. We’ll make sure to sit in the way back and watch.”
The woman directed me to the correct room. When I opened its door, I heard strains of soothing music floating in the air.
I spotted a row of folding chairs near the entrance. Indira occupied one of them. A giant duffel bag lay beneath her feet, and Ash sat on a chair beside her. The puppy rested her head against her paws.
Right after we walked in, the dogs started emitting low growls. They must have smelled Marshmallow.
Ash yipped at them. The dogs quieted down, and Marshmallow explained, “She just vouched for me.”
I shuffled over to Indira and whispered, “May I sit next to you?”
She gave a nod, and I took the unoccupied chair on her left. Then Indira placed a finger to her lips and pointed to a spandex-clad woman.
The teacher, I assumed. The woman wore a leotard that clung to her every curve. She said, “Now everyone lie down and stretch across your mat.”
All twenty or so women (minus one) obeyed and lay on their mats. Lauren Dalton, though, wearing a fancy leotard with crisscrossing straps, knelt. She motioned to the frowning young woman beside her, who then plopped down and pressed her face against the mat.
Most of the dogs also stretched out, though a few had to be coaxed or manually positioned. Even Kale tried as best she could while being trapped in a wheelchair. Tammy provided help by moving her paws.
“Deep breath in, and deep breath out,” the instructor continued. “Be united with your dog as you ground yourselves.”
I saw Lauren nodding and beaming down at Sterling, who had stretched across the mat.
The teacher continued to lead the group in a visualization exercise, something about a healing garden. My mind wandered. It didn’t help that Marshmallow also distracted me by providing commentary like, “Dogs are crazy. They look like fur rugs lying there.”
Finally, the teacher ended the class, but the group didn’t disperse right away. They rolled up their mats with languid movements. Maybe they felt so relaxed, they had slowed down their motions.
Meanwhile, the instructor glided over to me. She clasped her hands together and bowed. “Lauren mentioned she’d have a visitor today. I hope you enjoyed the doga class.”
I rubbed at my ear. “Did you say ‘doga’?”
“Oh yes, dog yoga. Surely you’ve heard of it. Feel free to tell any of your canine-loving friends.” The teacher did a double take on seeing Marshmallow. “Although cat-oga might prove promising as well.”
Marshmallow blinked at her. “Did you say ‘cat toga’? Cat toga or cat yoga—both sound horrible, lady.”
From beside me, Indira zipped open her duffel bag and pulled out a fanny pack.
The instructor pursed her lips and turned to my neighbor. “Indira, you know I won’t be able to let you sell your bags if Ash doesn’t get better. This is a doga class, after all, not an arts and crafts bazaar.”
Indira strapped on the bag made of black leather with gold accents. “You don’t understand. This is my livelihood.”
“Yes, and this studio is my sacred space. What I say goes.”
“I’ve already brought in the merchandise, and the ladies will be lining up to buy soon.”
“Fine,” the teacher said. “For today. But don’t bring back the bags unless Ash feels better. I can’t have you two sitting through another session and distracting the others.”
“I see,” Indira said, her voice pinched.
The teacher nodded and walked away.
Indira mumbled under her breath, “I paid for this class fair and square, and I intend to make it worth my while.”
She glanced over at me, but I pretended to busy myself with petting Marshmallow. Did she realize I had overheard her griping?
Indira didn’t have time to question me, though, since a gaggle of women approached us, with Lauren leading the way.
She came and kissed me on both cheeks. “Mimi, so good to see you.”
Lauren scratched the top of Marshmallow’s head. “You, too, cutie.”
He retreated behind my legs, planting himself underneath my chair. “Do not let any of those other women touch me.”
I smiled up at Lauren. “Marshmallow’s a bit shy today. So, what a wonderful class. Thanks for inviting me.”
“Any friend of Pixie’s is a bosom buddy of mine.” She fanned herself with French-manicured hands. “Though today’s asana poses made me work so hard.”
The young woman standing behind her spluttered, and Lauren turned her head. She said, “Mimi, this is my assistant, Nicola.”
Despite beads of perspiration spotting her forehead and dark, stringy hair, Nicola looked striking with her supermodel height and gazelle-like body. She even possessed a classic symmetrical face, except for a bulbous nose that threw off her other delicate features.
“Nice to meet you,” I said to Nicola and shook her hand.
Lauren turned to the group of women behind her and addressed them. “Everyone”—she clapped her hands—“this is my dear friend, Mimi Lee. She’s fab at making dogs appear spectacular. You do remember Sterling’s to-die-for sweatband, right? Look no further for great grooming services.”
I pulled out my stash of business cards, while Lauren stepped to the side. A long, snaking line formed before me.
While smiling and handing out my cards, I heard Lauren addressing Nicola. “I’m parched after that workout. Where’s my water bottle?”
Nicola scrunched up her round nose. “Oops. I must have forgotten to bring it.”
“Incompetence will not be rewarded, Nicola.”
Lauren’s eyes scanned the room. She spotted Tammy standing apart from the other women. I assumed Tammy didn’t want to wait in line because she already had one of my business cards. Motioning to Tammy, Lauren said, “Your water, please.”
Gee, the rich really did act privileged. Being a famous producer’s wife must have Lauren used to people catering to her every whim. And she seemed to take full advantage of her glamorous lifestyle, like those A-list actors with special riders in their contracts: fresh-cut flowers in their trailers and only blue M&M’s in their candy trays.
Tammy ambled to Lauren and passed over a stainless steel bottle.
Lauren opened the cap. Glancing at it, she wiped it off. “Been to the beach, I see.” She sipped the water. “Very refreshing. Thank you.”
I finished passing out my contact information. While some of the women exited the class, others stayed and browsed Indira’s wares. A few even purchased a bag or two. Soon, Indira had collected a large wad of bills.
One last lady lingered over the purse selection, considering. “I don’t know if I really need a bag.”
“It’s super functional,” Indira said. “Excellent for when you’re walking your dog. See how my hands are free? I have my demo bag on now to show you how great it is.”
“That does sound handy.” The woman examined the black and gold fanny pack Indira wore. “Funny. I used to have a purse that looked like this. It frayed, so I had to donate it.”
“Well, then, you must get this one. If only for sentimental reasons.”
The woman’s eyes misted. “I agree. Sold.”
“Like I said, this is my demo bag. Let me pull out the stuff I was able to fit inside it.” Indira started taking out everything from the fanny pack. She extracted pens, spare tampons, and a mini metal flashlight.
Indira completed the sale and thanked the woman. The duffel bag looked deflated after all the purchases from the yoga ladies.
I walked out with the last remaining women: Lauren with her assistant Nicola, Tammy, and Indira. In the lobby, Tammy waved goodbye to us. Poor Kale wheeled along behind her.
“So sad about that dog.” Wanting to assess the ladies’ reactions, I added, “Did you hear about the recent tragic death?”
Indira gave a curt nod. “I found out from my pool boy. Life sure gives us lemons sometimes, and I speak from experience.” Then she marched over to the receptionist and started talking to her in an irate manner. Marshmallow’s eyes sparkled, and he followed her.
Lauren turned to me with wide eyes. “I don’t know what you two are going on about.”
“The breeder Russ Nolan? He died in a suspicious way,” I said. “There’s an open homicide investigation.”
Nicola gave a small gasp but covered it with a pretend sneeze.
Lauren turned to her assistant. “Allergies are rough. I have a natural remedy I can give you—echinacea.”
Nicola shuddered and refused the offer. “Just a dry throat. Nothing serious.”
Lauren said to me in a loud stage whisper, “It’s extremely tough when assistants bail out on you. Best to watch over them and ensure they’re in good health.”
Nicola turned a bright pink but kept any emotion off her face.
Lauren tapped Nicola’s shoulder and said, “You know what I just thought of? Set up an appointment with Mimi to get that thing done for Sterling. There’s a big astronomy fundraiser coming up, and he needs to feel his best.”
“Of course, Mrs. Dalton.” Nicola swiveled to me and whipped her phone out. We synced our calendars, eventually settling upon a weekend to fit in Sterling’s appointment.