“He’d love it,” Peggy said.
I reached over the fence and stroked Chaka’s head. He felt smooth as silk, and when he looked up at me, I suddenly understood why people wanted dogs. You could certainly read “adoring” into those beautiful dark eyes and the steady gaze. Chaka was big; I hadn’t realized how big until I was close to him.
“How much does he weigh?” I asked.
“About seventy-five.”
“Is he typical for a…” I groped for the breed. “A Rhodesian ridgeback?”
“Yes, he’s a healthy boy,” Peggy said, smiling at the dog. “Though he was a rescue, he’d had excellent care. It wasn’t a neglect case. I think his former owner had died. You see that line of hair on his back, the one that runs the opposite way to the rest of his coat? That’s why they call them ridgebacks.”
“So they were bred that way.” I had no idea where to go with this conversation. Sophie made a couple of wakeful noises, and I got her out of her bouncer seat and carried her back to the fence, though it was quite an effort. Sophie seemed to have gained ten pounds overnight.
However, Peggy deserved to view the wonder that was Sophie. I looked from the baby to Peggy, with a smile that invited her to share my admiration.
Inexplicably, Peggy continued talking about the rescue organization where she’d gotten the dog. It was interesting (about one drop of interesting) to learn that dachshunds were bred to hunt badgers, and ridgebacks had been used to hunt lions.
To the best of my knowledge, badgers and lions were in short supply in Georgia.
Chaka extended his neck to sniff Sophie. He couldn’t actually touch her, so I was okay with the sniffing.
“Now he knows she’s a friend,” Peggy told me. She beamed at me as though this were a great milestone in Sophie’s life.
“When did you get the little statues?” I really did not want to listen to a monologue about dogs any longer.
Peggy turned to look, as if she’d forgotten what was in her garden.
She and Lena had put in a row of huge urns around their patio. The sisters kept them filled with flowers all spring and summer. In the nearest urn, a little statue of a frog on a lily pad perched in the middle of the fading flowers. In the next a pixie (maybe) was scattering something from a basket on the flowers. In the third … well, you get the idea. Gnome, squirrel, and so on.
Peggy shook her head ruefully. “A couple of weeks ago. They were on end-of-season sale, and Lena just fell in love with them.”
Right on cue, Lena came out the back door. We went through the greeting ritual.
“I was just admiring your dog and your little statues,” I said awkwardly. I didn’t want to walk away just as she’d joined us, but Sophie was getting so heavy. My arms felt like rubber bands, rubber bands that had been stretched out of shape forever.
“We just love Chaka,” Lena said. “Best dog we ever had. I bet Peggy’s told you she wasn’t in love with these statues. They sat by the back steps for a week, but then, surprise! I just came out and found them in place.” She beamed at her twin.
Peggy looked embarrassed. “You liked ’em,” she said.
“Glad you’re back to yourself again, Chaka,” Lena said to the dog. The ridgeback went down on his belly and put his head on his paws, the very picture of contrition.
“Roe says Lulu barked and barked,” Peggy told her sister.
“Well, Chaka didn’t care for all the flashing lights,” Lena told me. “They made him anxious. He whined and went to the back door and just stood there. He was worried that someone was going to invade our yard.”
“So all the strange people going in and out upset him? You, too, I guess.” I was trying to draw the conversation to a close without being abrupt. I was reaching the end of my endurance. It was awful to be so weak.
“I can’t say we weren’t anxious, at first,” Lena said. “The police came by the house this morning, really early. But after they’d explained what had happened, we were sorry you had such a scare. I understand your husband wasn’t home?”
“No, he was in Nashville. Phillip was home, thank God.”
“Oh, the blond boy,” Lena said. “He’s your…”
“Half brother,” I supplied. “Same father.”
“We knew your father,” Peggy said unexpectedly. “We remember him well. Not a looker, but sex appeal coming out of his ears!” The sisters laughed simultaneously.
I found that not a little weird.
After a bit more chitchat about the inconvenience of a police investigation (!), I said good-bye to the sisters and the dog, and carried Sophie to the patio door.
“Roe,” someone called, and I saw Deborah Cohen standing at their fence.
I had to return Sophie to the bouncer. My arms were trembling. I knelt to strap her in, and it was a little scary to stand up. But I took a few steps over to Deborah.
Deborah looked embarrassed, but determined. “I hope you don’t mind that Jonathan told the police what he saw. It was his duty to let them know he’d seen someone going into your backyard.” Her mouth was set in a determined, righteous flat line. At least she was asking me how I felt about Jonathan’s action.
I bit my lip to keep back my first response, which was not printable. “But it wasn’t his duty to tell them it was definitely Robin,” I pointed out in a glacial voice. “Because at that moment, Robin was in Nashville getting an award in front of seven hundred people.” (Slight exaggeration for effect, okay?) “But now, because of your husband, the police are asking all kinds of questions trying to find out whether or not Robin could have made it here and back again, and I’m sure the gossip mill is working overtime.”
And then, since I absolutely could not stand up any longer, I turned my back and went into the house. With one eye on Sophie, I was relieved to see Robin. He was awake and staggering around the kitchen, and he gave me a bleary wave.
“Honey, can you come get Sophie?”
“Sure,” he said, and came out to the patio to lift her.
Phillip, red-faced and dripping sweat, came in just after Robin had put Sophie down on her play mat. He mopped his face with a towel and headed straight into the hall bathroom to shower. “I need to talk to you in a minute,” he called as he shut the door.
After Robin had finished his coffee, I said, “Jonathan Cohen told the police he saw you going into our yard by the gate. Last night. That’s why Cathy was asking you so many questions.”
My husband stared at me. “But that’s impossible. I wasn’t there,” he said.
“Of course you weren’t. Apparently, the police have to take an eyewitness seriously, even if he’s clearly mistaken.”
“But…” Robin was outraged.
“It’s so obvious you couldn’t have returned, killed the woman, flown back, and conferred with Jeff, only to fly to Atlanta yet again. At least you were at the banquet and the bar with lots of witnesses for a big chunk of time. I’m sure the place was packed.”