Chapter 17

The room was silent. Freddy and I continued walking until we were back at the table with all of our friends: Andre, Nick, Alistair, Fee, Viv, Aunt Betty and Harry.

“On my first day in the dog show, I met Mary. When we talked, she advised me that if I was going to be successful in the show with Freddy, he had to know I was part of his pack,” I said. “That, in fact, I needed to be his alpha. She said the dog hierarchy is alpha, beta and omega, with the alpha the dominant above all others, the beta subservient only to the alpha, and the omega subservient to everyone.”

“What does this have to do with anything?” Mary said. “I see no reason to—”

“Hush,” I said. “I’m talking, not you.”

Mary closed her mouth. So, not the alpha, then. I glanced at the other three. None of them spoke. In fact, they looked as if they were barely breathing.

It hit me then, who the alpha was, who had, in fact, been pulling the strings all along.

“The alpha is the dog that the other dogs try to please,” I said. Bronson was watching me, his eyebrows meeting in the middle in a hard line of concentration. “Say, you’re at a dog park, you’ll note that the alpha dog doesn’t greet the other dogs. They come to him.”

Freddy and I walked past our table. We moved to stand beside Bronson, and I gestured by tipping my head that he should walk with us.

“The alpha wields all the power,” I continued. “The alpha directs the actions of all the others, especially when there is a threat to the pack. The threat, in this case, was Gerry Swendson. He had to be removed.”

Bronson nodded. He was beginning to understand.

“Gerry interfered in the production of the dog food,” I said. “He cut corners and costs, trying for fast profit. The year’s supply of dog food that was given to the winning dogs last year was a prototype of what Gerry wanted to produce. It made the dogs sick and there was a lawsuit, still pending, I believe.”

I glanced at Mary. She stood frozen, staring down at the floor, much like a puppy being chastised.

“He tarnished the reputation of the company he and Mary had built. She had to be furious with him, not only as a dog lover but as a business owner.”

“She has an alibi,” Bronson said.

“Of course she does,” I said. “Also, she’s not the alpha or the beta, but rather the omega.”

Mary’s head snapped up. There was anguish in her eyes. I felt no remorse.

“Gerry also wanted to change the direction of the dog show,” I said. “He wanted the sponsor to receive more publicity than the winning dog. He felt that switching out the chairman of PAWS would achieve that end. I believe he was hoping to get someone younger into the position.”

Bronson looked at me with interest. “Any proof of that?”

“No, only the taunting comments overheard in the competitors’ waiting room,” I said.

“I have listened to quite enough,” Liza said. “If you would just hand over the crystal bowl, we will award it to Mr. Freestone and enjoy our tea. Honestly, this display of poor sportsmanship is unseemly.”

I raised my eyebrows and looked at Bronson and said, “There’s your beta.”

A smile tipped the corner of his mouth. “Please continue.”

“Severe headaches caused by a pinched nerve in the back,” I said. “There’s not much that can help except a very potent pain medicine. Of course, patient-doctor confidentiality being what it is, I suppose it would be hard to find out who might have suffered a spinal injury that caused severe headaches with the only relief being a prescription for the very dangerous opioid.”

“I have been clear of all medications for months,” Tilly said. The words burst from her as if she’d been trying to hold them in but couldn’t anymore. “I don’t use. I haven’t since, well, since . . .” Her gaze shifted to Claudia, who looked at her as if she just wanted to hug her.

“Let me guess, omega, right?” Bronson asked.

I nodded. “There can only be one alpha. I believe Swendson was it, until he got removed. There’s a new alpha now, and he’s the one who called for the murder of Gerry Swendson, and he’s sitting right here.”

I paused beside Richard’s seat. Muffin was sitting in the chair beside him. Richard was nibbling on a pink petit four with cream filling. His entourage was speechless, their mouths hanging open as if they couldn’t believe he was the mastermind behind the murder of Gerry Swendson.

He didn’t bother to acknowledge me or Bronson. In fact, he just kept eating. When he finished, he licked the pink icing off his fingers and then wiped them on his napkin.

“Well, this has been entertaining,” he said. “Who knew we were going to have dinner and a show?”

He started to rise from his seat and Bronson said, “Not so fast.”

Richard completely ignored him. He held his gaze and continued straightening to a standing position. Then he very purposefully checked the time on his watch. It was a Rolex, proving once again that he was making a fortune from Muffin’s popularity. The gold watch band was a little loose and he shook it to move the clock face to the middle of his wrist. He looked pointedly at the time and then at Bronson.

“You have absolutely no reason to keep me. This fictional story, while amusing, is exactly that, fiction, created by a loser who is bitter because she didn’t win. The trophy is mine. The title of champion is mine. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll collect my winner’s cup and go. Muffin, come.”

He was going to leave! But every instinct I had was screaming that he had engineered the whole thing, Gerry’s murder, Freddy’s loss of the competition on a technicality, all of it.

I whirled around and faced the women. “If you don’t speak up now, he walks and you get charged with murder. Is that what you want?”

I saw Claudia and Tilly exchange a glance. Liza and Mary looked confused as if they’d been under a spell but it was finally lifting.

“Richard told me that Gerry was planning to have me removed as a judge because he found out about me and Tilly,” Claudia said. “I didn’t care. I told her to be strong and that after the dog show, she could leave Gerry and come live with me, but then Gerry was murdered and we thought it best to wait.

“When I arrived at the dog show on the morning of the agility tests, Richard was there and he told me that Gerry had committed suicide by taking Tilly’s medication. He said that because of her relationship with me, no one would believe it was suicide and that Tilly would be charged for his murder if we didn’t hide the bottle and the body. He made me help him hide the body under the dais, but he kept the bottle.”

She looked bitter and it was then that I knew she had taken a hell of a risk to keep insisting that Freddy won the dog show when Richard was holding this over her head.

“Definitely an alpha,” I muttered. Claudia met my gaze with a sad smile.

Everyone turned to Tilly to see if she would verify the story. She was sitting at a table, having collapsed into a seat, and was openly sobbing. Her hands were shaking as tears slid down her face, ruining her makeup and making her look even younger than she was.

“It’s okay, Mrs. Swendson,” Bronson said. “Just tell us what happened.”

“Several months ago, at a press event for Swendson’s, Richard asked me for some of my pain medication,” Tilly said. “I was still using pretty heavily back then, and I didn’t think it through. He said he had wrenched his back and was in horrible, crippling pain. I didn’t want to think of anyone else suffering like that, so I thought I was helping him by giving him my prescription. I forgot all about it, because I was trying to get clean for Claudia. I’ve been off the meds and sober for months, ever since we . . .” She glanced at Claudia with so much love wrapped up in vulnerability that I felt my own throat get tight. “On the morning of the agility tests, Richard used those same pills to kill Gerry by crushing them up and putting them into his coffee.”

“Why?” Bronson asked. “Why did Richard want Swendson dead?”

“Gerry was going to do everything he could to make sure Muffin didn’t win this year. He hated that Muffin’s celebrity eclipsed the dog show, which he paid a fortune to sponsor. He felt that it was unfair that the dog gets so much attention, and he hated that Richard made a fortune off the show while Gerry was spiraling into debt and probably going to lose everything.

“When Richard found out what Gerry was doing, he decided to kill him. When I threatened to go to the police and tell them, Richard said he still had the bottle my pills had come in and that he had carefully preserved my fingerprints on it. He said he’d out me and my lover and turn over the bottle to the police if we didn’t help him. Claudia wanted to go to the police, but I was terrified and begged her not to.”

Bronson turned to Liza. He didn’t say a word. He just stared. She folded like a cheap suit.

“I didn’t know what he was capable of, I swear,” she said. “I’m as much a victim as Tilly and Claudia. Gerry was angry with me. He said he was going to have me removed from PAWS because he wasn’t seeing enough return on his investment in his sponsorship of the dog show. I complained to Richard via text, saying I wished Gerry would just drop dead. It was just an angry message. I didn’t mean it. Richard said not to worry, that he would take care of it. He tried to convince me that Swendson had committed suicide, but I never believed it. Not really.”

“Why didn’t you come to the police?” Bronson asked. He looked peeved and I couldn’t blame him. What a waste of time.

“Because Richard told me that if I expressed any concern about Swendson’s death other than as a tragic suicide, he would feel compelled to come forward with my text expressing my wish that Swendson would drop dead,” Liza said. She cast a glance at the table where all of Richard’s followers sat. “I’ve built PAWS up from nothing, I couldn’t let him take it all away. When Richard demanded to win the competition, I felt like I had to do what he wanted or he’d try and make it look like I was the killer. He said he could do it. I panicked.”

“And you,” Bronson said to Mary. “How could you let your brother’s killer roam free?”

“I didn’t know!” Mary’s voice was low and full of slow-burning fury when she spoke. She glanced at the others and snapped, “How could you? How could you know he was the killer and do nothing?”

“Oh, please,” Claudia chided her. “How did you not figure it out? You knew he was manipulating all of us, including you.”

“I thought he was just trying to win the competition,” Mary said, seething. She turned back to Bronson. “Richard threatened me. He told me he would use Muffin’s considerable influence to destroy my brand if I didn’t guarantee him the win at the dog show, but that was it. I honestly thought my brother had committed suicide. He was always so overly dramatic that I thought maybe this time, he’d just gone too far. I didn’t know Richard murdered Gerry. If I had, I would have—”

“You would have what?” Tilly snapped. She glanced at her sister-in-law in disgust. “You knew he was drugging me, using my accident as an excuse to hook me on opioids, and you did nothing.”

Mary glanced away. Guilt bowed her shoulders. “You’re right. I should have done something to help you, and we all should have done something to stop him.” She raised her head and glared at Richard.

“This has all been very entertaining,” Richard said. “But it seems to me that all we have here is a bit of gossip. You have absolutely no proof.”

“Actually, I do,” I said.

Richard gave me a look of derision as if I was unworthy of his notice. I turned to Tilly and asked, “Did Gerry own a Rolex watch by any chance?”

“Yes, I gave him one for our wedding. How did you know?” she asked.

I glanced back at Richard. His affection for pretty things was about to get him in very deep trouble.

“I saw it on Mr. Swendson’s wrist on the night of the cocktail party,” I said. “And I just saw it again on Mr. Freestone’s wrist when he checked the time.”

Detective Inspector Bronson stepped forward just as Richard bolted for the exit. Thankfully, Harry and Alistair were able to run him to ground like a rugby ball.

They tackled him hard and snatched him up by the arms, carrying him so he was forced to walk on his tiptoes to Bronson with Muffin trotting along beside him, having no idea that her human was going to be gone for a very long while.

“It’s not his, it’s mine, you’re mistaken, you can’t prove anything,” he argued. “Unhand me, you thugs!”

I turned to Bronson and said, “Every Rolex has a serial number that corresponds to its production date. If Tilly has the certificate of authenticity, it will prove that this watch belonged to Swendson.”

“I do have it,” Tilly said. “It’s in our jewelry safe, I’m sure of it.”

The detective inspector grinned, looking like he’d just won the big crystal bowl full of kibble.

“Mr. Freestone,” Bronson said. “I’m sure this will come as no surprise, but you’re under arrest for the murder of Gerry Swendson.”