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The judge gestured for me to bring Pepper to the table. She then immediately examined the white dog prints extending from the ring entrance to Pepper’s position. She wore a grimace as she met us at the table. That was the same expression my fifth-grade teacher wore when she’d seen that Billy Hawthorne had been staring at my test and copying my answers. Pepper’s paws were the first thing she examined.
“So, these are nice and white, I see,” she snarled.
“He was the victim of a cruel prank in the grooming room an hour ago,” I said. “Kiki Miller wrote up the incident. Someone swapped a can of pink spray paint with his—” the correct term had slipped my mind “—fur freshener.”
My teacher-doppelganger’s expression instantly softened. “That’s awful. I’ll try to...” She paused. “I wish you’d caught this sooner. Just don’t ever let this or any other dog you’re presenting leave footprints in a show ring again.”
“I won’t,” I replied.
She took an extended period of time studying little Pepper, who was far too squirmy in the examination, but for a first-timer, that was par for the course.
“Okay, let’s get a look at his gait,” she said, making a little circling gestured. I put Pepper’s leash on and Pepper immediately trotted in a perfect circle around the judge as if he was an old hand at this. “Out and back,” she then said with a smile. We did so. Pepper was easy to lead and truly had a wonderful gait—all of his little steps even and his countenance proud and confident.
As the last Poodle made his out-and-back trot and returned to his assigned position, the judge walked the length of the line as she looked at each dog in quick successive comparison to the others. As she made a return trip, she called out the black Poodle with the tilted tail, next the Poodle behind us, then Pepper. She made a circular gesture and had the three of us trot around the ring in quick succession. As we returned from our lap, she pointed at the black Poodle and announced, “Three.” The Poodle with the slightly off legs was second. She pointed at Minnie Pepper Cocoa and called, “One!”
I breathed a sigh of relief and happy surprise and walked him toward the others. Pepper had clinched a spot in the Best of Toy division.
“Yippee,” Eleanor cried. “Minnie Pepper Cocoa won!”
As was traditional, the three other handlers came over and congratulated me. Eleanor, too, dashed into the ring, and we posed for pictures with Pepper and the blue ribbon that was bigger than he was.
My toe was throbbing badly as we left the ring. I’d be fine, though. I gestured with my chin for her to follow me to a quiet spot. I headed to an empty corner.
“That’s good, right? Winning, even though there were only three others? In his first-ever competition?” Eleanor asked.
“Yes, it’s really good. And I’m sure you’ll feel confident at showing him yourself at the next dog show.”
“Yeah. I think so. Maybe. You two looked really great together, though. I’d hate to break up a successful team. You were both so cute and perky.”
“Thanks,” I said. Those were two of my most frequently cited descriptions of me. I’d prefer beautiful and sultry. But it was better than plain and crabby. “Just a word to the wise, there are a lot of regulars at every show who believe in a certain decorum. No raised voices that might distract the dogs from behaving in the ring. No verbal reaction to the judge’s choices.”
She winced. “Oh, of course. I wish you’d told me earlier.”
“I would have if it weren’t for my shoe mishap getting me out of sorts.”
“Right. I’m sorry that I forgot all about that, even. It was just so exciting for me to see my little man present himself so beautifully.” She looked at my injured foot. “Is it feeling okay?”
“It’s sore, but at least I don’t have to put much weight on the front of my toe when I walk. But...how did Pepper get all of that talcum powder or chalk on his paws?”
“Beats me. He wasn’t leaving any footprints when we left the groomers. I didn’t notice the prints on my slacks until you pointed at his tracks.”
She was wearing light, beige pants. I, however, had a vague recollection of brushing off my slacks when I’d changed out of them without a second thought. Those little spots I’d barely noticed were from Pepper’s paws. “Did you put him in his crate between leaving the groomers and having him on your lap?”
“Yes, when I was moving his crate. But—” She broke off. “Someone sabotaged me twice! That terrible Terrier breeder was wrong. Nobody was after her dog. Minnie Pepper Cocoa was the target! It’s over there.”
She pointed at a spot behind me. As I followed her line of sight, I was distracted by seeing Kiki. She had been scanning her surroundings and held up a palm when she spotted me. “The Poodle judge just spoke with me about the incident report.”
“I’m not surprised. I’m sure she wanted to verify its veracity.”
“Hard to believe the dog’s been running around for a full hour and still has powder coming off his feet.”
“That’s what we’re checking right now...to see if his crate is okay.”
As Eleanor led us to the crate, I said to Kiki, “By the way, Davis said he didn’t need to talk to me.”
“Oh, right.” She hit her forehead with the heel of her hand, far too gently for my liking. “He’d said he wanted to talk to Baxter. Sorry about that.”
Pepper climbed to the top of Eleanor’s shoulder as she opened the crate. He looked so cute and happy. I reached inside the medium-sized crate and ran my hand over the simulated sheepskin that functioned as soft, thick carpeting. A big white puff of powder arose. When I extracted my hand, my palm and fingers were covered in white.
“This is outrageous,” Eleanor said. “Someone has boobytrapped my little boy’s crate!”
Kiki swiped at the rug with her index finger and sniffed it. “It’s chalk dust.” With her other hand, she patted the top of Pepper’s poufy head. “This could have been so much worse. Right?” She looked from Eleanor to me and back. Neither of us reacted.
“At least it isn’t powdered drugs, right?” Kiki said. “He would be dead by now.”
Eleanor paled. “I think I’m going to be sick,” she said. Holding Pepper tight in her arms, she pivoted and headed toward the women’s room.
“Ew,” Kiki said under her breath. “Wish I hadn’t said that. I didn’t realize she was hypersensitive.”
Baxter and I finally got together to sit down and have a cup of decaf coffee in his office. My ability to relax was limited by the frigid sensations of Baxter’s makeshift icepack on my foot. He’d wrapped a self-sticking bandage around my foot to keep it in place, which was working a little too well. I was mulling the notion of drizzling my coffee on it.
“This is the first time I’ve gotten to sit down and breathe,” he said. “Just four more hours until we’ve made it through Day One of three.”
I pulled at the ice, my hand nicely warmed by the mug. “I have to head over to the agility trials in twenty minutes or so.” I’d already changed out of my skirt suit and back into my active-wear. “To tell you the truth, I’m still wondering what else can go wrong.”
“I know. Me, too. I’m assuming Davis will fire me again. If so, my plan is to say, ‘Fine. Pay me the amount in my contract, and blame everything on me.’ Then I’ll hand him the keys and walk out.’”
That would be disastrous for his resume. I said nothing and started unwrapping my foot.
“How’s that feeling?”
“It’s not hurting all that bad. I’m a little worried about how well it will hold up on the agility course, but as long as I don’t push down on it, I’m fine. No ballet dancing, and no stubbing my toe.”
“Fingers crossed. Then you’ve got the Bull Terrier and the Scottie to present tomorrow, right?”
“No, I don’t. I forgot to tell you. Cooper wants to do that after all. I gave him both dogs. In addition to Jesse’s Airedale.”
Kiki opened Baxter’s door, calling “Yoo hoo.”
He grimaced, then said, “Come on in.”
“Hi, Baxter! Allie. Am I interrupting anything?”
“No, just chatting about what to expect tomorrow,” I said, trying to ease my foot back into its sneaker.
“Expect a hectic eight-hours,” Kiki said. “Especially you, Baxter. Expect me to hold my breath that we get through the day unscathed in the Terrier competitions.”
“Right,” Baxter said.
“That’s why I stopped by. I just want to see if there’s anything I can do for you, Baxter,” Kiki said. She shifted her gaze to me. “Oh, and I certainly hope you’re keeping your promise to take over Cooper’s dogs, at least in the Terrier class.”
“I didn’t promise that,” I said. “And I agreed to let him show Eeyore. As well as the Scottie and Bull Terrier tomorrow.”
She gaped at me as if horrified. “You’re actually going to give him back the duties? Earlier this morning, I talked to Jesse and he told me he was hoping you were presenting Eeyore. I thought you’d go with the owner’s wishes, for heaven’s sake!”
Hearing that Jesse was indeed happier to have me instead of Cooper gave me a pang of regret. “I...thought it would be better for the Terrier competition if I withdrew. I didn’t want owners to claim judging bias because the manager and I are a couple.”
“And how would that be worse than asking the judges to ignore the fact that one of the handlers is the prime suspect in the murderer of a renowned handler? Allie. Think this through! The majority of people producing the show, entering the show, and watching the show believe he has murdered our one and only celebrity. How would it look if we allow him to compete?”
“It will look like we think he’s innocent until proven guilty.”
“He would unfairly be missing out on walking a couple of dogs. So? Cry me a river!”
“But he needs the money to pay for his defense.”
“Fine. I’ll hire him to manage the cleanup crew on Sunday. I’ll pay him more than he’d have earned in the ring. Then will you promise to present the dogs yourself?”
“I doubt he’ll be happy. But I guess so. Provided you tell him about this compromise and how he’ll earn the money back.”
“Deal. I’ll track him down and tell him that right now.” She looked at my foot. “You up on your tetanus shots?”
“Yes.”
She gave me a perfunctory nod, then beamed at Baxter. “Keep up the good work, Bax. After tomorrow, it’s all downhill.”
“As long as it’s down a hill and not off a cliff.”
Kiki laughed. “You’re so witty!” She shook her head and chuckled as she left.
I wiggled my eyebrows at him. “You’re witty and pretty,” I teased.
“Yeah? You should see my better half.” We rose and shared a quick kiss. “Back to the mad, mad dog-show world.” He grinned at as he held the door for me. “One lucky thing has happened. The skies cleared after the brief rain shower this morning.” He locked the door, and we headed into the main space. “Otherwise, we’d have had to move all of the Working Class competitions indoors.”
“That is lucky. This way we can probably stay on schedule when you don’t need to rearrange—”
Just then, an alarm sounded. An instant later, the sprinkler heads in the ceiling went off.