Paw and Order. V.M. Burns

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Paw and Order - V.M. Burns A Dog Club Mystery

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my side position, I felt her breath on my face. When I opened my eyes, she was mere inches away.

      “It’s Saturday. I don’t have to go to work and since I let you out to go potty about three hours ago, I doubt that you have to go potty now.”

      Aggie licked my face.

      “Ugh.” I sat up and wiped my face. “What have you been eating? Your breath smells awful.” I stared at her.

      Aggie wagged her tail in the way she had that made the bed shake. Then, she ran down the stairs I kept beside the bed to help her climb up and down.

      Resistance was futile so I picked her up and went to the back door. I let Aggie out, locked the door and went to answer my own call of nature.

      When I was done, I thought about climbing back in bed, but my cell phone vibrated on my nightstand and I realized sleep was over for today.

      I picked up the phone and saw the face of my daughter, Stephanie, staring back at me. “You’re up pretty early today. Aren’t you on Central Time?”

      Stephanie gasped. “I’m so sorry, Mom. I wasn’t paying attention to the time. Lucky and I were just getting back from our walk and…I thought I’d call.”

      Lucky was a golden retriever she adopted after she found him injured and cowering under the deck at my last rental while she was visiting. He had been highly trained and was a great dog. However, something in her voice made me wonder if all was well. “Are you okay?”

      “I’m fine.” She sighed.

      “How’s work?” Stephanie was a successful attorney in Chicago. “Lucky? Joe?”

      “Works fine and Lucky is wonderful. In fact, he’s the best representative of his sex I know.”

      That narrowed down the problem. “I take it things aren’t great between you and Joe?”

      Joseph Harrison was a Lighthouse Dunes policeman and a member of the K-9 unit with his Plott Hound, Turbo. Stephanie and Joe started dating after he helped us figure out who murdered my estranged husband, Albert. They really seemed perfect for each other, although Lighthouse Dunes was just over an hour from Chicago, and I suspected the distance would become a problem at some point.

      “Anything you want to talk about?” I asked tentatively. As her mother, I knew I was entering dangerous territory. Life as a parent was a delicate balance for both of us. Stephanie obviously wanted to talk, or she wouldn’t have called at six in the morning. Yet, she didn’t want to be the crybaby who ran to her mom when her problems got too much. I wanted to be there for my children but didn’t want to overstep. I wished, not for the first time, that someone had created a manual for this.

      “Not really.”

      I sighed. “Okay, so how’s the weather in Chicago?”

      “Why do men have to be so stubborn?”

      For the next fifteen minutes, I held the phone while Stephanie poured out her heart. I listened but wasn’t idle. I let Aggie inside, made coffee and started cooking bacon, eggs and toast. Stephanie needed to get things off her chest, but she didn’t particularly need advice from me. When she was finished venting about Joe’s faults, which basically amounted to his unwillingness to give up his job and move to Chicago, she sighed again. “What do you think I should do?”

      “I think you should come visit your mother.”

      She paused. “No, what do you think I should do about Joe? Don’t you think it’s archaic and chauvinistic for him to expect me to give up my career and move to Lighthouse Dunes? I mean if he isn’t even willing to entertain the idea of moving to Chicago, then what’s the point of our continuing to see each other?”

      I listened for another three minutes. By the time she finished talking, my breakfast was done. I took it outside and sat at the table on my deck. She paused. Unfortunately, the moment she chose for me to respond was the exact moment when I’d just shoveled bacon and toast in my mouth. I chewed quickly and gulped some of my coffee to help the lump slide down easier. “I’m serious. I think you and Lucky should come down to Chattanooga. A short vacation away from the situation might help you sort through your feelings and put things in perspective. Besides, you haven’t seen the house I’m planning to buy, and I’d love to get your opinion about some of the changes I’m planning.”

      Stephanie hesitated for a few seconds. “I suppose Lucky and I could take a few days off. I don’t have anything pressing at work and it might be good to be unavailable to certain people for a little while.”

      “Great.”

      We talked for a few minutes, but I could tell she had warmed up to the idea of a little getaway. By the time I finished my breakfast, she was already surfing the Internet for the best flights.

      I looked down at Aggie. “Breakfast before seven on a Saturday. I hope you’re happy.”

      She wagged her tail, oblivious to my sarcasm. She was happy that my attention was focused on her.

      I showered, dressed and tidied up. Dixie was coming over later for day two of the fundraising activities which involved a trip to Archibald Lowry’s estate for a poodle specialty and demonstrations from our dog club. The East Tennessee Dog Club Association would put on a show for agility, obedience and tracking. I gazed out in the yard at the open tunnel, closed tunnel and the PVC jumps Dixie gave me to practice with Aggie. Neither one of us were exactly sure about those, and so far all I’ve done is look at them while Aggie sniffed them. However, today wasn’t the day for practicing.

      “You have got to be joking? I can’t adopt another dog. I can barely handle the one I’ve got!” I stared at my friend.

      Dixie smiled. “You’re looking at me like a dog looking at a new bowl.”

      “I’m not exactly sure what that means, but if you mean I’m looking at you as though you’ve suddenly lost control of all of your faculties, then yes. Yes, I am.”

      She merely grinned. Dixie sat in a chair on the back deck of my house. It was a beautiful spring day in Chattanooga. Seventy degrees at eight in the morning and the crepe myrtle, dogwood, Bradford pear, and crab apple trees the previous owner had planted around the perimeter of the large two-tiered deck were blooming along with bright red, coral and orange tulips, purple and white lilac bushes and white flowering Azaleas. The birds were singing and the sun shone bright. Sitting outside on my deck, the events of last night seemed like a dream. Surely, there wasn’t anything as horrible as a murder on a day like today.

      Dixie sneezed. “I love Chattanooga, but all of this pollen is driving me batty.” She took a finger and wrote “pollen sucks” in the heavy layer of yellow film that covered nearly every flat surface, despite my best efforts to wipe it clean.

      “Thankfully, I don’t have allergies, but we didn’t have anything like this in Indiana.”

      “The weather man said this was the worse pollen season we’ve had in two decades.” She sneezed three times in rapid succession, jostling the small fur ball that had fallen asleep on her lap.

      Aggie, my black toy poodle stood on her back legs and sniffed the furry little interloper that distracted attention away from her.

      Dixie watched the interplay

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