The Scottie Barked At Midnight (5 page)

The headline was in large print:
BODY OF WOMAN FOUND AT SKI RESORT.

Margaret reached out to touch her niece's arm. “What is it?”

“I'm not sure.” There were plenty of ski resorts in the area. Lots of women stayed at them, but Liss felt a deep sense of foreboding as she scanned the story. Details were sketchy. Earlier that day a guest in one of the condos at Five Mountains Ski Resort had found her mother lying dead on the living-room floor. The dead woman's two little dogs had been standing guard over the body.

Abruptly, Liss handed the iPad to her aunt. There was silence while Margaret squinted at the text, enlarged the print, and read the story for herself. “My goodness! Do you think this is the woman whose dog you found?”

Liss wasn't surprised that her aunt knew about Dandy the Scottish terrier, even though she hadn't gotten around to telling Margaret the story herself. The Moosetookalook grapevine worked at top efficiency at this time of year, reporting news of births, deaths, engagements, and odd occurrences, as well as sharing rumors and spreading gossip.

“I'm afraid it may be. The
Scoop
didn't print any names, but how many women with two little dogs and a daughter are likely to be staying in the condos at Five Mountains at the same time?”

Poor Deidre, Liss thought. She'd been so happy to have Dandy back. And poor Dandy. But at least she still had a home with Deidre's daughter.

Margaret placed the iPad on the coffee table. “It says the police have been called in.” She sounded worried.

“That doesn't mean anything. It isn't always easy to distinguish between accidental death and suicide.” Liss frowned. “Deidre didn't seem the type to kill herself, but she was the excitable sort. Maybe she had high blood pressure, a heart attack. . . .”

Her voice trailed off at the thought that Deidre had been younger than Margaret was. She sent a surreptitious sideways glance in her aunt's direction, thinking she'd try again to assess the older woman's health, but Margaret was already on the move, picking up her empty mug and heading for the stockroom.

“So sad,” she said, “but it just goes to prove what I've been saying—people should enjoy life while they can.”

Liss collected her clipboard and the iPad and trailed after her aunt. It was good advice. Deidre Amendole's unexpected death was proof that life could be snuffed out in an instant. Even if you weren't inclined toward suicide, avoided being murdered, and were genetically disposed to escape death from natural causes until you hit one hundred, you could still be hit by the proverbial bus while crossing the street.

Starting tomorrow, she vowed, she'd spend at least an hour a day curled up in a chair in the cozy corner with one of the books from her TBR pile. As for this evening, she had another plan in mind to ensure that she got the most out of life. It was one she suspected her husband would also enjoy.

Chapter Three

T
wo days later, Liss was in the stockroom at Moosetookalook Scottish Emporium when she heard the loud jangle of the bell over the door of the shop. “Be out in a minute!” she called, hastily applying the last piece of strapping tape to the box she'd been packing for shipment.

A dark-haired woman stood with her back to the stockroom door. Her bulky winter coat hid her shape, but Liss could tell she was thin as a rail, and there was something familiar about her stance. Before she could pinpoint what it was, she heard the click of doggie toenails on the hardwood floor and looked down to see Dandy—or maybe it was Dondi—trotting toward her. The second Scottie appeared a moment later, eyes bright and eager and stubby tail wagging.

“I don't have any dog treats.” She spread her hands wide, showing them that they were empty.

One of the dogs—this time she was pretty sure it was Dandy—tilted her head as if she was thinking over what Liss had said. The other pup continued to stare at her, his beautiful dark brown eyes remarkably expressive. She could almost believe he was trying to send her a telepathic message.

“You'll have heard about my mother.” Desdemona's words were blunt, her voice harsh.

“Yes. That is, I saw the news stories. I'm sorry for your loss.”

A follow-up report had identified Deidre but had not revealed her reason for being at the ski resort, nor had it given the cause of her sudden death.

“Would you like a cup of coffee?” Liss offered.

Desdemona considered the question with far more seriousness than it deserved. “That would be most welcome. Thank you.”

Liss waved her toward the cozy corner of the shop. “Have a seat. I'll be right with you.”

The Scotties followed her into the stockroom. Dandy and Dondi watched Liss's every move with great interest as she poured two mugs of coffee from the pot she already had going. She placed them on a tray and added packets of sugar substitute, a jar of nondairy creamer, and a plate of Patsy's bite-size corn muffins. Before the two dogs could decide to explore the boxes, bins, and bolts of fabrics stored on floor-to-ceiling shelving, Liss clicked her tongue at them and held the door open. They obliged by nearly knocking her off her feet as they raced past her into the shop. For such little guys, they packed a wallop. Then again, so did Lumpkin and Glenora when either of them took off at full tilt.

Desdemona had seated herself in one of the overstuffed easy chairs, but where most people would have been leafing through one of the coffee-table books Liss left out, or browsing the Scottish-themed titles shelved in a nearby bookcase, Desdemona Amendole just fidgeted. Liss wondered if the other woman was aware of the small nervous movements she made. Although her feet rested flat on the floor, one had a visible twitch, and she drummed the too-thin fingers of her right hand on the arm of her chair, where fabric and thick padding muted the sound.

“Here we go,” Liss said in a cheerful voice. She plunked the tray down in front of her guest and settled herself in the other chair.

Desdemona started, as if her thoughts had been miles away from Moosetookalook Scottish Emporium. Hectic color rushed into her cheeks, but she covered her embarrassment, and most of her face, with a toss of the long, luxuriant mane of dark brown hair Liss had admired the day they first met. By the time Desdemona had doctored her coffee and was sitting back to take the first sip, her complexion had returned to normal.

Uncertain what to say next, Liss said nothing. Maybe Desdemona was just the nervous type. That might explain her anorexic appearance, too. In silence, Liss polished off half the coffee in her mug and slipped a muffin apiece to Dandy and Dondi.

“I was gone most of the day,” Desdemona said in a rush. “Mother said she had a headache. She planned to take a pill to relax her and lie down for a while after she rehearsed with the dogs. I saw no reason to hurry back. By the time I returned, it was far too late to save her.”

“How terrible for you,” Liss murmured.

It must have been terrible for the Scotties, too. Looking down into those intelligent eyes, she had to wonder if they'd sensed something was wrong. Had they barked, trying to alert someone? Or had they known it was no use? It wasn't unheard of for the faithful dog belonging to a dead person to guard the body. Some animals pined away after losing their masters. Cats, sad to say, were as likely to take a little taste of the deceased, dead meat being dead meat, as they were to show any signs of mourning.

“They did an autopsy.”

Liss made a sympathetic noise. She was neither shocked nor surprised. An autopsy wasn't unusual when the cause of death wasn't readily apparent.

“I was told the preliminary results this morning.” The hand holding the mug trembled. Desdemona returned it to the coffee table before any of the remaining contents spilled. “Mother died of an overdose.”

“I'm so sorry. What a terrible accident.”

Desdemona forced a smile. “Thank you for not immediately leaping to the conclusion that she committed suicide. Not everyone has been so sensitive.”

“Your mother didn't strike me as the suicidal type,” Liss said, repeating what she'd told her aunt when they'd first heard that a woman had died in one of the condos at Five Mountains.

“Whatever
that
is.” Desdemona had folded the napkin in her lap into tiny accordion pleats. With exaggerated care, she smoothed it out again. “I'm afraid my mother traveled with a virtual pharmacy of sleep aids, muscle relaxants, tranquilizers, and pills to perk her up, plus every vitamin known to man.”

Too much information,
Liss thought. Why, she wondered, was Desdemona telling her all this? Why had she come to Moosetookalook at all? The staff at the ski resort were far better equipped than Liss was to assist Desdemona in making whatever arrangements were necessary, including those having to do with taking her mother's body home for burial.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” She had been brought up to volunteer in times of trouble, but she didn't expect to be taken up on her offer.

“In fact, there is.” Desdemona reached for her coffee and took another sip.

Liss waited.
Me and my big mouth,
she thought.

“Mother's contract with
Variety Live
does not have a provision that covers sudden death. The producers say the show must go on or they'll sue her estate to get back the honorarium they paid her to participate.”

That the contestants on the show were paid seemed odd to Liss, but she didn't have time to wonder about it. Desdemona was still talking.

“I thought of you at once when I heard that. Did I hear you correctly the day you brought Dandy back? Are you a professional dancer?”

The reason for Desdemona's visit suddenly became crystal clear. “Oh, no.” Liss waved both hands in front of her, palms out. “Not a chance.”

“Why not? It's only for a few days. And you'll get to appear on national television. You
are
a pro, aren't you? Think what this could do for your career.”

“I
was.
Past tense. And even then, I was a professional
Scottish
dancer. In a troupe. Think
Riverdance,
only Scottish.”

“Close enough. You just offered to help. Well, this is what I need, someone to take my mother's place with Deidre and her Dancing Doggies.”

 

“Why doesn't the daughter do it?” Dan asked.

They were in the kitchen after supper that evening, and Liss had just broached the subject of spending the better part of the next seven days at Five Mountains Ski Resort. Her husband, predictably, wasn't crazy about the idea.

“Aside from the fact that she doesn't dance, Desdemona says the dogs refuse to cooperate with her. They'll let her feed them and pet them, but they were her mother's darlings. They won't obey her commands.” Liss started to clear the table, picking up the plates and silverware.

Dan put away the butter dish and brought their glasses over to the sink. “What makes her think they'll listen to you?” he asked over the rush of hot water filling the dishpan.

Liss had a dishwasher, but she liked washing up by hand when it was just the two of them. She'd gotten some of her best ideas for displays at the Emporium while scrubbing pots and pans.

“That's exactly what I asked her. There was no guarantee that they would, but Desdemona had seen the way Dandy responded to me, so she had me try telling the Scotties to spin. I was sure she was wrong about my ability to control them. Scottish terriers aren't a breed that's particularly easy to train. But what could I do? The woman is in mourning for her mother. I felt sorry for her, so I humored her. I told Dandy to spin, and without a second's hesitation, she did.” Liss smiled, remembering. “Honestly, Dan, it was the cutest thing.”

“Maybe it was a fluke.”

She shook her head. “Dondi was just as obedient as Dandy was.”

As Liss washed, Dan dried and put away. They'd been married long enough, over five years, that they performed their allotted roles on autopilot. Liss could feel him watching her as they worked side by side and sensed that something besides a few days' separation had him worried.

“What?”

“Not to sound critical, but committing yourself to something like this on the spur of the moment is impulsive, even for you.”

She stuck her tongue out at him.

“I'm sorry the woman died,” he went on, “but I don't see where it's your responsibility to take over for her. You only met her once.”

“But I rescued one of the dogs,” Liss reminded him. “Isn't there some old Chinese proverb about saving a life and then that person becomes your responsibility? Maybe that's what I'm feeling toward Dandy.”

“I get that, Liss. I do. But it wasn't Dandy who conned you into volunteering to perform. This Desdemona played on the guilt you're still feeling because you almost hit the Scottie with your car.”

Liss started to deny the change, then reconsidered. “You may be right, but does it really matter? This is a chance to try something different—take a break from the routine of the shop and come back refreshed and ready to take on the last-minute chaos of March Madness.”

“So you're just going to drop everything to oblige the bereaved daughter of a woman you barely knew? What about your responsibilities here?”

“Desdemona pointed out, quite rightly, that the Emporium didn't seem all that busy. You know I've been thinking the exact same thing myself. I'd been planning to treat myself to a minivacation by goofing off and curling up in the cozy corner with a few good books, but this is so much better. Free lodging at an upscale resort. The chance to dance on TV. A week with those two adorable little dogs.”

A reluctant smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “You really want to do this, don't you?”

“Strange as it seems, I do. The more I think about it, the more I'm looking forward to it.”

“Are you going to close up shop for the next week?” He put the last drinking glass away and closed the cupboard door, the dish towel still clenched in one large, capable hand.

“Why not? It really is slow just now. Even the mail orders are down to a handful. I can let them back up for a few days.”

“What about March Madness?”

“Everything's right on schedule and Audrey can handle troubleshooting for the week.” She emptied the water from the dish pan and left it tipped on its side in the sink to drain. Turning to face him, she pasted what she hoped was a provocative smile on her lips. “You could come visit while I'm at Five Mountains. You wouldn't even have to drive back and forth. Take the shuttle from The Spruces.”

Dan studied her for a long moment, his expression solemn. “I didn't realize you missed dancing so much.”

Two quick steps brought her into his arms. “Oh, Dan,” she murmured against his chest. “I don't. Not really. And these performances are hardly the same as going back to my old life—not that I'd want to, anyway—but it
would
be fun to dance with the Scotties.”

She could almost hear Aunt Margaret's voice in her head, advising her to live life to the fullest. She ignored the trick of memory that immediately provided a quotation to suit the occasion: “Eat, drink, and be merry . . . for tomorrow we die.”

“How about this, then?” Dan suggested. “
You
commute to Five Mountains. Like you said, The Spruces runs a shuttle.”

“True, but I need to rehearse with the dogs and, believe me, you don't want me to keep them here. I told you what Lumpkin thought of Dandy.”

“I just—” He broke off to stare at the ceiling. “I'll miss you, that's all.”

Held snug and secure in his embrace, Liss felt the tenseness in his muscles. He
would
miss her. She didn't doubt that for a moment because she knew how much she was going to miss him. But that wasn't all that was bothering him. “What aren't you saying?”

“It's probably crazy to worry.”

“About what?”

“The woman who died. Deidre Amendole. Are you sure her death was an accident? I mean, one of her dogs had just been stolen. According to what you told me after you returned the Scottie, she believed one of the other contestants was responsible.”

Liss stepped far enough away from him to meet his eyes and took a moment to consider the possibility. “Literally killing the competition would hardly be necessary in order to win. There are plenty of less lethal ways to eliminate a rival contestant.”