“She’s chewed down all the wood in the office.”
We laughed, and then Matt sobered. “I’m so sorry. Bentley can’t say I didn’t warn her.” He stood and reached into a giant jar on his counter, taking out a dog biscuit and holding it for Olive. She snatched it from his hand, immediately chomping away. Little pieces of dog biscuit fell to the floor. “The police came by yesterday. They were looking at Chuck’s handiwork. Asking all sorts of questions about the equipment he used.”
“Really?” I asked, although I already knew as much. Sean had told me. I kept my attention focused on Olive, who had lapped the crumbs from the floor and was sniffing around for more. “Hey, she really likes those. Maybe I should pick up some.”
“No problem. Hold on and I’ll get you a box.” He headed for one of the aisles. He returned a minute later with a box of dog biscuits and started ringing it up. “I can put this on Bentley’s account, if you want.”
I nodded. “Sounds good.”
“Anyway,” Matt continued. “When the cops were here, they asked to look at my nail gun. Isn’t that weird?”
“They did?” I was still playing dumb, but I feared he could see guilt written all over my face. After all, the reason the cops had questioned him was that I’d told Sean about the nail gun. I quickly tried to redirect the conversation. “Have you heard that they arrested one of our authors, Jodi Lee?”
Matt rubbed his chin, his eyes rolling upward. “Jodi Lee? Why does that name sound familiar?”
“She’s one of our key authors at the expo this week; there’s a display of her book in the Constant Reader window. She writes romantic suspense novels,” I explained, thinking Matt probably wasn’t a romance reader.
“Oh, yeah. That’s right. My wife’s reading her latest book. She likes those sort of books.” He started bagging my purchase. “She was telling me about it the other day. Something about how one of the characters was killed with a . . .” His voice trailed off.
I grabbed my bag and tugged on Olive’s leash. “Thanks, Matt. Gotta run!”
Chapter 17
Ladies were lined up down the hall waiting to get into the Sundance Room to hear Pam’s reading. Keeping with the fun spirit of the honeymoon theme, Ms. Lambert arranged for samples of champagne to be offered during what was sure to be a steamy reading. Afterward, everyone would be directed to the Dragonfly Room, which was set up with lingerie displays and booths filled with luxurious bath and spa items—everything needed to make the bride feel beautiful on her special day. There would also be several travel talks, pitching the latest in exotic honeymoon destinations.
On my way to find Pam, I snatched a glass of champagne from a passing tray and took a couple of quick sips. The bubbly sweetness helped to calm my nerves. For some reason I couldn’t figure, I’d been on edge all afternoon. Maybe it was the funeral, or the case, or Trey . . . or just plain exhaustion. Whatever it was, I was glad tomorrow’s fashion show wrapped up the week’s events.
Bentley caught up to me before I reached the main auditorium. “There you are, Lila. Have you spoken with Ms. Crump today?”
I paused for a half beat. I’d been dreading this conversation all day. “Yes. I spoke with her earlier.”
Bentley raised a finely arched brow. “Did she mention that she planned on resigning?”
“She did.”
“It’s just absurd, isn’t it? That she’d leave a good job over something as silly as a sweet little dog.” In her typical high heels, Bentley stood a full two inches over me. That, combined with her even taller ego, made me feel like a puny kid. I was struggling with whether to accept this opening or to confront her with what was sure to become a contentious issue. Yet I’d just spent what would have been my lunchtime being pulled about by a dog that wasn’t my own, picking up and pocketing its poo. There was no doubt in my mind: Vicky was right. Bentley was taking advantage of her.
“It’s just that Olive is such an active little dog,” I started, treading carefully on the subject. “It’s a lot for Vicky to handle. Especially considering how rigorous her regular duties can be.”
Bentley shifted her weight and placed a hand on her hip. “What exactly are you trying to say, Lila?”