Mary McGill, her cocker spaniel Millie tight by her side, stood in the middle of the bandstand in Santa Louisa’s city park and watched the last of the costumed dogs depart. It had been an exhausting and exasperating morning.
Judging the best canine costume for the Fourth of July dog parade had turned out to be a diplomatic nightmare. Even though there were different categories, there weren’t enough to satisfy all the people who had turned their dogs, big and little, into Statues of Liberty, George Washington, Martha Washington or rebel soldiers. They’d pulled carts, been decked with blinking lights, had tri-cornered hats attached, and one poor dog represented the fife and drum corp. At least, Mary thought the thing attached to his mouth was a fife. It was certainly a drum that hung from his neck, banging his legs with each step. She’d thought for a moment that John Lagomasino, one of the other judges and part-owner of the Furry Friends Pet Shop, was going to jump over the judging table and remove it, but his partner, Glen Manning, stopped him just in time. John had to content himself with mumbling uncomplimentary things about the owner under his breath while crossing the dog off his list of possible prizewinners.
But it was over and the next events didn’t start until four. Those were scheduled for the large regional park just outside of town. Fireworks would start at nine. In the meantime, she and Millie, her uncostumed black cocker spaniel, could go home. Lunch sounded good. So did a glass of iced tea. It was hot, even for July. She picked up Millie’s water bowl, emptied it over the side of the pavilion and tucked it into her tote. ‘Let’s go,’ she told the dog.
Millie seemed more than willing.
They cut across the park and crossed the street toward the shops that faced it. There were a number of people out walking in spite of the heat, several with their dogs, and Millie had spotted one she wanted to greet. Stub of a tail wagging, she headed for a German shepherd who sat beside a tall, gray-haired man staring intently in the window of Lowell’s Jewelry. Mary would have walked on by but Millie had other ideas. She pulled Mary up to the window and touched noses with the shepherd.
Mary sighed. ‘Good morning, Ranger,’ she greeted the dog then smiled at the man. ‘Nice to see you again, Mr Miller. I thought you and Ranger were on your way to Pismo beach.’
He smiled politely at her then looked impassively at the dogs, who were still nose to nose. ‘We were, but I heard it’s foggy and cold over there. Thought we’d stay and enjoy your lovely town for another couple of days.’
‘I hope you like heat then. We’re supposed to be over one hundred today.’ She glanced in the shop window, curious as to what had caught Mr Miller’s eye. A new necklace piece held the place of honor. ‘How lovely. Jerry Lowell must have made that. He does make the most beautiful pieces. I’ve never understood how someone can take something as clunky as a gold ingot and turn it into something as delicate as that pendant.’
‘It takes a lot of skill.’ Mr Miller turned once again to stare at the beautiful filigree piece. ‘That sapphire is an old one and the diamonds are rose-cut.’ He glanced at Mary. ‘That means they’re old as well. Georgian. You don’t see them very often. But the necklace they’re set in is new. Very innovative and very well done.’
‘Yes.’ Mary glanced once more at the piece, wondering how he could tell the sapphire was old and what rose-cut meant, then looked down the street toward home, iced tea and air-conditioning. However, rushing off might seem rude. ‘Are you coming to the fireworks? I think we’re going to have a spectacular display this evening. The Grady Brothers are local but have a great reputation for their pyrotechnics. We’re lucky to get them. I know they had offers of jobs from as far away as Washington State. This year they decided to stay home.’
Mr Miller frowned. ‘I’d really like to but I’m not sure I want to leave Ranger alone in a motel room. He’s not too fond of loud noises.’
‘Why not take him to the Benningtons’ vet clinic? Pat and Karl Bennington are offering free board this evening to people who are worried about their dogs and the fireworks. So many run away if not someplace safe. Millie’s going.’ She glanced at her dog, who stood beside Ranger, evidently exchanging pleasantries. ‘I have to be at High Bluff Park about four. I’m chairwoman of the committee responsible for putting on today’s events and it’s going to be too hot and crowded and noisy for her. She won’t like being kenneled much but she’ll be safe and so will my sofa pillows. Call them. See if they still have room. Tell them Ranger’s a friend of Millie’s.’ She grinned. ‘That should get you a spot.’ She set her tote bag on the sidewalk, pulled a notepad out of her purse and jotted down the phone number. ‘Ask for Pat.’
Mr Miller took the paper, pulled a wallet out of the inside pocket of his perfectly pressed chambray jacket and slipped it in. ‘I’ll do that. I’ve heard about the Grady brothers and I’d like to see the fireworks. Thanks.’
Mary took another look at the necklace, collected her tote and gathered up Millie’s leash. ‘I hope to see you there. Oh. Bring a chair or a blanket or something. It’s going to be packed. And there will be food booths as well as wine and beer. Also lemonade and water. Every organization in town has a booth so you won’t starve or go thirsty.’
With a brief wave, she and Millie started back down the sidewalk toward home and iced tea.