A Dog-Gone Christmas (3 page)

Delia gave Stacy a long look. “I hope I can believe that.”

“You can,” Stacy said. “Cross my heart and hope to die.”

“This was all perfectly innocent, Delia,” Tom said. “At least, it would have been, if you’d done right by me.” A few people guffawed. Tom scanned the faces in the crowd. “My name’s Tom Adams. Y’all should know my name, better than Delia Gantry’s. I’ve got real talent. But Delia’s made sure I stayed in the shadows.”

Some voices in the crowd were ridiculing him, calling out: “Boo hoo” and “Jerk” and worse names. “I was going to buy Ciao as a Christmas present. I figured Bella and Ciao would be friends.” Tom grimaced. “So we get to Denver, and I make the arrangements with Eddie over the phone, to buy Ciao. But by then, Delia’s treatin’ me like dirt.”

“I was not!”

“Yeah, you were! You were writin’ your next hit all about me. ‘He’s stayin’ with another lover/keeping it all so undercover/He loves my doggie more than me/as if her leash was meant to be/chained to my heart/’til it tears me apart./I’m just another doggone fool/to fall for such a no-good tool.”

“You’re right about the song, Tom,” Delia growled. “You’re a tool, all right. I was always too good for you.”

“So, I hatch a plot, to get back some of the money I’ve lost as your flunkie, all this time, instead of a recordin’ artist. Only Eddie gives you his real name and records the whole damned thing!”

“People
saw
me shooting the video,” Eddie exclaimed. “Somebody was bound to call me out. It ain’t like I blend in real well with the crowd when I’m half a foot taller than anyone.”

“Well,” Delia said to Tom, with one hand on her hip, “you got yourself a big old audience here, at my expense, and we’re as over as two people can be. All I want to know is: Where’s my dog?”

Tom lifted his chin. “I’m done talking.”

“Read him his rights,” one officer said to the other, who promptly started to lead Tom away, while pulling out his handcuffs.

The second officer approached Eddie, and a third headed toward Mario. “Tell the lady where her dog is,” the officer asked Eddie. “It’s Christmas Eve, after all. You want that kind of karma?”

“Ask the know-it-all dog expert.”

“I’d look for a DIA locker key in Eddie’s carry-on luggage. He didn’t have time to leave the airport with Bella, and he couldn’t have hidden her here all this time. He probably put Bella in a duffle bag while he was calling everyone’s attention to Delia standing in the other security line. Then he put Bella in a locker and came to this gate in time to join the back of the crowd.”

“Sounds right to me,” the officer said. “You want to just give us the key?” he asked Eddie. “Or should I have TSA find it?”

“It’s in my bag. Front pocket.” He gestured at a small soft-sided gym bag by wall. He looked at me. “You can give me Ciao back now.”

“Oh, hell, no,” Delia said. “She’s mine now. My Christmas present. From my ex-boyfriend, the tool.” She shot a hateful glare at Tom, then held out her arms for Ciao. I handed her over, knowing she would be in excellent hands. “Someone needs to escort me to the locker, ASAP.”

“I’ll take you on the cart, Miss Gantry,” an officer said.

She started to leave with him, then paused and looked back. “Come on, Allie and Allie’s mom. I want to introduce you to Bella. Then I can pull some strings, throw a tantrum, and get us all on a private jet, to the destiny of your choice.”

“Los Angeles,” my mother said, just as I was saying, “St. Croix.” Mom shot me a wounded look, and I said, “I mean…Los Angeles. Definitely. L.A.”

Many of the travelers in the crowd had dispersed to catch their flights, but the thirty or forty who remained close by started to applaud.

“We love you Delia,” a teenage girl shouted. “Bella and Delia forever,” another cried out.

She grabbed Ciao’s carrier and handed my mom Bella’s carrier that Tom had retrieved. She looked at Stacy and said, “Gather our things and meet us at the lockers. We’re going to Los Angeles. As soon as we can find a pilot.”

Mom cleared her throat noisily as we hopped into the cart. “Did I mention that my mother’s an excellent pilot?” I told Delia.

“And I’m happy to work holidays, while your regular pilot is on vacation.”

“All set?” the officer asked.

“Just a sec,” she said. We were facing backward in our seats and could see that Tom, in handcuffs, was being led toward a second cart.

Delia lifted Ciao and wiggled her little paw to wave goodbye. “Ciao, baby,” Delia called. Tom glowered, but kept his eyes averted.

She nodded at the officer, and we took off. She gave Mom and me a big smile. “Bella and I have a new dog, new friends, and a new fill-in pilot. This is shaping up to be a really great Christmas!”

“It sure is,” Mom and I said in unison.

Author’s Note

Dear Readers,

Thank you so much for reading this story! I hope you enjoyed reading A DOG-GONE CHRISTMAS as much as I enjoyed writing it. My full-length mysteries always involve murder, and it was a true pleasure to not have to kill anyone on the page for once! I hope to have Bella and Delia Gantry return in a future Allie Babcock Mystery. My characters are never based entirely on a living person, but rather are amalgams of people I’ve known, peppered with a liberal dose of quirks and traits that are drawn my own imagination. In this case, Delia is essentially a composite of Taylor Swift and the 2012 winner of “The Voice”.

I dearly hope that you’ll want to read more Allie Babcock Mysteries. I write two other mystery series, as well. Near and dear to my heart, the Molly Masters Mysteries are a humorous series about a mother of two who creates eCards. The Domestic Bliss Mysteries, written under my pseudonym, Leslie Caine, feature interior designers, the feisty Erin Gilbert and the unspeakably handsome Steve Sullivan, who meet in DEATH BY INFERIOR DESIGN. If you especially enjoy Christmas books, please consider: HOLLY AND HOMICIDE. I am also introducing a darker trilogy of thrillers, which starts with THE BODY SHIFTERS BEGINS. Please visit my website at www.LeslieOKane.com.

Warmest wishes,

Leslie O’Kane