Page 131 of A Dead End Wedding

"There was actual pee!"

Max and Mr. Ellison broke into spontaneous applause. The puppy gave us a startled look, then plopped down on her butt and fell asleep sitting up. I caught her as she fell sideways and handed her to Max. "Your turn. I had to stand by while she peed all over the place. My dignity may never recover."

She put the pup in the new fake leopard-fur bed that sat on the floor next to Max's chair, where it rolled over on its side and started snoring. Loudly.

Max grinned at me. "Where'd she do it?"

I snickered. "Outside the dentist's office, of course. Mean old man."

The phone rang, and I closed my eyes. "I can't take any more phone calls, Max. Tell them I'm not here."

She answered and listened for a moment. "Yes, I understand. Please hold for Ms. Vaughn. But – what – okay. She'll be right there."

I opened one eye, afraid to ask.

Max looked worried. "That was the owner of Orange Grove Antiques. She's holding Bear Anderson for attempted theft. She says Bear gave her your name, and if you don't go down there right now, she's calling the police."

I groaned. "Fine. Did you get an address?"

"I know the way. I'll write directions, but they're kind of confusing, because it's back in a cul-de-sac area. Call me on your cell if you get lost."

Ifound the antique store with only three wrong turns and steeled myself for what I was going to have to deal with inside. As I opened the door, a wrinkly face popped up in the window next to the door and stared at me, tongue hanging out.

It was so unexpected I jumped a little, then looked again. It looked exactly like a plus-size version of Razor Fang, er, my new puppy. Then another dog, just like it, jumped up beside it. Their matching wrinkly, smiling faces made me smile, although my newly freed criminal client was headed for the big house.

I wonder if they still use cigarettes for money in jail. I wonder where I can buy him some cigarettes.

I gently pushed the door open, worried about hitting any dog noses with the glass, then glanced to my right. Now,threeidentical faces stared at me, all grinning, and I was a goner. I tentatively reached a hand out, and when they all started wiggling their entire bodies, I had to pet everybody. "Aren't you the most beautiful babies? Oh, look at that sweetie."

I knelt down to pet them and they all tried to climb into my lap at the same time. "Oh, you are just like my new puppy, but even more wrinkly. Okay, okay, there's enough pets and scratches for everybody." I started laughing, thinking that maybe Mr. Ellison had been right about the dog thing. It was certainly hard to be anxious when you were petting one of these charmers.

A dry voice cut into my cuddle fest. "They seem to like you, but that don't mean much. They like almost everybody."

I looked up and a woman old enough to be an antique, herself, stood by the counter, shooting eye laser beams at me. "I'm Lucinda. You say you have a pug pup?"

I stood up, attempting to brush all the hair off my skirt, then gave it up as a lost cause. "Yes, as of today. I sort of adopted a four-month-old pup, because her owner had to go into a nursing home. I don't know anything about raising a puppy, though, and it looks like you must know a lot. If you have any advice, I'd sure appreciate it. I want to take good care of her."

Lucinda smiled and seemed to warm up considerably. "Well, I'd allow as I have a good bit of advice to give about pugs. Been raising champions for near twenty years. Is yours a purebred or a mix?"

"I don't really know. I didn't think to ask. She looks exactly like yours, except smaller. Curly tail and all, although it droops kind of straight when she sleeps. Does it matter?"

"Nope, not a bit, with loving a dog. Might make a bit of difference in feeding requirements and so forth. You'll need toget her to a vet and figure it out if the owner doesn't have papers on her."

A voice called my name from the back of the store. "Miss Vaughn? Is that you?"

Oh, crap. I forgot my poor client.

Lucinda's warmth iced over again. "That your client?"

"Yes, he is. What did he take?"

"He didn't take nothing. But he was fixing to, before I caught him. I confess, I don't rightly know what to do with him," she said, shaking her head. "Turns out he's kind of savant about antiques. Knew which glaze was on the original and which was on the reproduction of a particular type of pottery that comes from?—"

"Well, maybe we can work something out?" I asked, pasting a huge, hopeful smile on my face.

She narrowed her eyes thoughtfully. "Mayhap we can."

Twenty minutes later, Bear had a new job, Lucinda had a new employee, and I had a new obligation: to make good if Bear messed up.

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