The confrontation didn’t happen immediately. First, the shocked St. Bernard owner and the second- and third-place winners received their ribbons, took pictures with the judge, and cleared the ring. ETDC had a large glass award that the president, Lenora Houston, presented to the judge. The award was supposed to be a token of the club’s appreciation, and we’d had it made before Naomi Keller demanded monetary payment for her services. Lenora Houston, with her military buzz cut and rigid physique, looked as though she had just sucked a lemon. She smiled for the pictures, but her smile looked more like a grimace.
During the pictures, Dixie was called to the club’s office to take care of a problem with the computer. However, confrontation was inevitable.
“If that woman has any sense of self-preservation,” B.J. said, “she’ll avoid that office like the plague.”
When the pictures were done, we watched Naomi Keller make her way to the office. Monica Jill, B.J., and I exchanged glances.
“We’ve got to help her,” Monica Jill said, looking from the office to the rest of us. “Dixie was loaded for bear. She’ll eat that woman alive.”
I stared at my friend. “I don’t know what that means.”
“Yankee.” B.J. snorted. “It means, we better get in there and make sure Little-Miss-I’m-going-to-disqualify-your-whole-obedience-class knows that we’ve got Dixie’s back.”
Monica Jill stamped her feet. “We are not going back there like some posse intent on intimidation. We are going to keep our friend from strangling that woman.”
B.J. grunted.
We took a few steps forward before we realized that Dr. Morgan wasn’t following, and we turned around to see that he was shaking his head.
“I work for the county,” he said. “I can’t get involved in anything that could potentially involve the police.”
B.J. walked back to him and shoved Snoball into his arms. “Good, then you can hold our dogs.”
I hesitated a split second and then shoved Aggie into his chest and followed my two friends toward the raised voices.
Dixie towered over the shorter woman like a dinosaur. “If you have a problem with me, then be woman enough to confront me personally. How dare you penalize my students?”
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen Dixie this mad before,” Monica Jill whispered. “I was only half-joking earlier when I said we needed to stop her from killing that judge.”
“Well, I wasn’t.” B.J. pounded her fist in her palm. “They ’bout to throw down. I got twenty dollars that says Dixie takes her out with two punches.”
Monica Jill gave B.J. a shove. “This is serious.”
B.J. chuckled. “Oh, alright.” She turned to me. “You’ve known Dixie longer than the rest of us. What’s the plan?”
I shrugged. “Plan? What plan? I don’t have a plan.”
B.J. and Monica both stared at me.
“What?”
Monica Jill whispered, “You always have a plan.”
After a quarter century of friendship, I could only recall one other time when I’d ever seen Dixie as angry as she was right now. “Wait, what did you say this judge’s name was?”
“Naomi Keller,” Monica Jill whispered.
Naomi Keller sat in her chair with an innocent I have no idea what you’re talking about look on her face. However, as Dixie continued to rage about jealousy and bias, a transformation occurred. Naomi Keller’s face morphed from human to something animalistic and feral.
“Don’t blame me because your little obedience groupies failed to deliver.” She smirked. “Dixie’s pack.”
I heard Monica Jill gasp, and then I glanced down at my bright green T-shirt.
“You can honestly sit there and say you weren’t biased when you gave a first-place ribbon to a dog that peed in the ring?”
Someone nudged me and then slid into the office. It was the St. Bernard’s handler, and she was carrying the blue ribbon. “Ah-hem.” She courageously approached the two fighting women.
Naomi Keller flipped a switch. Instantly, her facial contortions ceased. She plastered on a huge smile, and her voice became syrupy sweet. “Yes, dear. May I help you?”
She pointed at Dixie. “She’s right. Bernie peed in the ring. He should have been disqualified.”
The smile froze on Naomi’s face. “Nonsense. That was purely an accident. He’s young and energetic—”
The woman merely shook her head. “Nope. I can’t take something I didn’t earn. It wouldn’t be right.” She placed the blue ribbon on the table, turned, and walked out.
Naomi Keller scowled at Dixie. “You see what you did to that poor woman?”
“What I did?”
“If you hadn’t made such a fuss, none of this would have happened. It’s just a mock show, which doesn’t even count, but, as always, you have to be the center of attention.” She glanced around at the faces of the crowd that had gathered in the tiny office and gave a chuckle. “Dixie always did think she was the top dog when her skills were never quite up to par.”
A flush rose quickly up Dixie’s neck, and she balled her hands into fists. “What does this have to do with me and my skills?”
“They say, those who can’t do . . . teach, and I don’t see you entered.”
Dixie reached across the table and grabbed a pen and a blank entry form. She scribbled on it and then handed the form to one of the startled women who was working the show. “I’ll see you in Utility.” The crowd parted like the Red Sea after Moses lifted his staff, and Dixie marched out.