Dog Drama by Leslie O'Kane

Author:Leslie O'Kane
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: pugs Australian shepherds small town Colorado dog trainer stage theater funny humor warm sweet PG mu
Publisher: Leslie O'Kane
Published: 2017-07-14T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 13

“It isn’t anybody we know, is it?” Karen asked. She continued to hold Pavlov’s leash.

We pretended not to hear her question.

My head was spinning. This all felt too hideous to bear. We had been on a simple hike with the dogs! Sam had been alive and well just an hour or two ago. Maybe none of this would have transpired if I hadn’t told Karen that there were highly toxic flowers in her bouquet from an anonymous fan.

Baxter said in a half-shout, “Flint, heel.”

I stared again at the body, willing my eyes to stop seeing that this was really happening. My vision swam. “There’s something in his hand,” I said, so woozy now that I took a seat on the hard-packed dirt. I sunk my face into my knees.

“Yeah. It looks like it’s a small piece of cloth,” Baxter said.

“I’m going down there,” he said, breaking into my silent self-flagellation. “He could still be alive. You’ve got to hold onto Flint’s leash and keep him up here. Okay?”

I sat up and took the leash handle. Flint sat down beside me, panting. I tried to take deep, even breaths.

Baxter’s footfalls were noisy as he descended the hardscrabble slope. “It’s plaid,” he said. I knew at once that he was talking about the piece of cloth in Sam Geller’s hand. “A light-brown plaid.”

“Damn it,” I muttered to myself. John had been wearing a light-brown plaid shirt today.

“Are you okay?” Karen called up to me.

“Fine. Baxter’s checking to see if the man is still alive,” I answered. “We’ll come down soon. Please just keep Palov with you.”

Baxter made his way back up to Flint and me. “He’s dead. I’m going to stand guard. You and Karen need to get the police up here. Bring the dogs back to town with you.”

He helped me to my feet.

“Are you steady enough to walk?” he asked.

I avoided his gaze. I needed to just keep going. Block my feelings. Get help. “I’m fine.” I started to trudge down toward Karen.

“Allie,” Baxter said. “It’s John’s pocket. Sam’s holding John’s pocket. But he wouldn’t have done this. I don’t see any footprints near Sam, but the killer could have covered them up, after planting John’s shirt pocket. Somebody must have framed John.”

I managed a feeble nod. I led Flint to rejoin Karen and Pavlov.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

I nodded.

“Does your cell phone have any coverage?” she asked.

I pulled it out of my pocket and glanced at it. “No signal bars,” I said. “We need to head toward town until we can get a signal.”

We began to walk side by side. She studied my features. “It’s someone we know, isn’t it?”

“Yes. It’s Sam Geller.”

She hesitated for a moment, then continued to trudge beside me. The dogs were flanking us, silent now, no longer tugging on their leashes.

“Allie...this is all just.... It’s not right. None of this is right. This theater has been producing plays every summer for more than fifty years. We’re just doing an amusing little play about a dog wanting to reunite his owners.

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