Page 23 of Worst in Show

Pop is right. Where did time go? I hurry to sign off with a quick Sry gotta go and then stand and stretch.

“You seem pretty captivated by whatever that is?” Harvey peers at me as he gestures to the computer. “Good to see a smile on your face, kiddo.”

“It’s just this guy in the group. He’s funny.”

“A guy, you say?”

I tut at him. “Not local, so don’t worry.” I close the laptop and reach for the leashes beneath the counter. “Come on, pups. Let’s go outside.”

It’s a busy Saturday afternoon on the Riverwalk, so I hold on extra tight to Cholula’s leash just in case. Fortunately, Leo and Tilly are nowhere to be seen. We pass the playground, the snack stand, and a sign announcing the last farmer’s market of the season coming up tomorrow. That’s why I recognized Leo’s aunt, I realize. She sometimes has a table there selling baked goods.

The thought brings me back to the launch and his curt response when I asked about his family. Maybe it’s time to do a little research. I lead the dogs to the nearest bench where I sit down and pull out my phone. Salinger + horses, I type into the search engine. The first result in the list is a hit for Salinger and Sons Royal Equine in New York. The link takes me to a landing page with pictures of gorgeous horses and endless fields of green, and a quick survey of the About page reveals it is indeed Leo’s family and that their business has been in operation since right after World War I. A picture of three older men in front of portraits of what must be their ancestors draws my attention as Leo bears a striking resemblance especially to one of them. “Hello, Leo’s dad,” I say.

I’m about to close the page when I land on a link in the top right corner. Canine King, it says.

“Of course,” I mumble. Royal Equine, Canine King… So, he’s in the family business. But didn’t he say he used to be an investment banker? I click through to the canine side of the business and snoop around some more. Under locations, I enter my zip code, but only the downtown Chicago branch comes up. A site search for Leo’s name similarly yields nothing.

“Huh?” I feel like I’ve stumbled upon something, but what exactly, I have no idea.

Living History Illinois Flockify DM, Monday 8:44 AM @AlCaponesGhost25

SingerQueen: So if you could haunt anyone in the world—who would you choose and why?

Canine King officially opened its doors today, and since Happy Paws is closed on Mondays, I’ve spent all day distracting myself with sewing. Piles of tutus, capes, and dog-sized vests on the table behind me bear witness to my productiveness, but now my fingers ache, and my neck is almost certainly growing a hump.

It’s past 6:30 p.m., so Micki and Jaz should be home soon. I’ve started boiling water for our pasta, but while I wait, I check for the third time today to see if “Al” has responded to my question from this morning. And finally, he has.

AlCaponesGhost25: Hmm tricky. Surely there’s a whole slew of war criminals who could do with a bit of poltergeisting.

SingerQueen: A diplomatic response. Snooze…

AlCaponesGhost25: Alright fine. I recently started a new job and there’s this person—a real grouch—who really has it in for me for no reason. They’re messing up my work and making things up about me. It’s extremely frustrating.

SingerQueen: Let’s send some chain rattling their way then! What a dick.

AlCaponesGhost25: Done. You?

SingerQueen: Must be something in the air. Also someone at work.

AlCaponesGhost25: Another designer?

Oh yeah, I forgot about that little lie…

SingerQueen: He’s so full of himself. Thinks my clients will like his sketches better than mine, and he’s always prancing around showing off.

AlCaponesGhost25: Can’t stand people like that. How about I slam some of his cabinet doors around at night. Maybe make a dresser float across the room?

SingerQueen: Perfect.

The door to the apartment opens, and Micki and Jaz crowd in, kicking off shoes and hanging up jackets.

“God, I’m beat,” Jaz says, pulling off her red wig.

I close my laptop. “Do I want to know?”

“No.”

“Tell me anyway.” I move to the stove and empty a box of spaghetti into the bubbling water.

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