Doggone Dead by Teresa Trent

her in years.” She went on as if I hadn’t interrupted her. “She used to get her hair cut and curled about once every two weeks when she was in town. She was married three, maybe four times, but that never seemed to work out for her. They were all in it for the money. Her daddy left her a big wad of good ol’ cowboy cash. I guess his movies and trinkets brought in quite a bit too, especially after they did a remake a few years ago. People wanted that original Charlie Loper stuff. Real retro, you know.”
    “So you hadn’t seen her in years?”
    “No, can’t say that I have. Hold on a minute, honey.” I could hear the “ssst” of the aerosol spray can as it coated yet another big Texas hairdo in a blanket of hairspray. Miss Ruby then told her victim to pay Gigi up at the counter and have a real nice day.
    “Okay, darlin’, I’m back. So why are you asking about Libby Loper? Did she die or something?”
    “Um, no. Well, almost, I guess. I’m not sure just how much I should be talking about at this point.” I heard Miss Ruby suck in air on the other end. Her overexposure to aerosol had done nothing to her nose for news.
    “You can tell me, darlin’. We’re like family, you know.”
    “I know. Miss Ruby, when Miss Loper came into the Hair House, did you notice if maybe she was ... taking drugs or drinking?”
    “You mean was she high?” Ruby laughed. “Only on herself, dearie. She would give me this bull about how they did her hair when she was in Hollywood. She had the same hairdresser as Katherine Hepburn and oh, what a wonderful job she did, a real professional. Made me feel like the lowest wart on a toad, it did.”
    “So she didn’t seem inebriated or anything.”
    “She was as sober as the preacher on Sunday morning.”
    “Okay, thanks.”
    “But wait, honey ...” I hung up the phone before Miss Ruby could pry the untapped gossip out of me. My dad really needed her for the interrogation room at the Pecan Bayou Police Department. “Anybody home?” I heard my back door open and shut and the sounds of my son, cousin and aunt all entering.
    “I’m in here,” I said. Butch barked and scurried across the tile floor in the kitchen, miscalculating where to stop and nearly hitting a wall on the way. As I rounded the corner, Zach screamed in excitement and picked up the slightly damp ball of fur.
    “Butch! You came home!” He hugged the little dog so tightly I worried he would break its little bones.
    “Um, Zach, if a dog’s eyes start to bulge, don’t you think you might be hugging him just a little too tight?”
    He jumped and then softened his grip. “Oh, Butch, I missed you so much, boy.” He looked up at me. “Did he find his way home on his own, or did someone see a poster and bring him to us?” He nestled his nose in Butch’s fur. “Oooh, he smells so good!”
    I thought about how I should explain this one. Should I tell him I found his little puppy scampering around in the blood of one dead British butler or maybe just tell him about how we’re glad he’s home? Before I could come up with an answer, Danny blurted it out.
    “Somebody went to heaven.”
    “What do you mean?” Zach asked.
    Aunt Maggie put her arm around Zach’s shoulders. “Don’t you listen to Danny. You have your Butch back, so all’s well that ends well.”
    “But Mama, you told me Butch was there when Mr. Gray’s son went to heaven,” Danny repeated.
    Anxious to get my son off the morbid topic of how many bodies his mother had discovered over the last few years, I went for an easy switch.
    “So Danny, how was your day at the vet clinic?”
    Danny stopped pulling at his mother’s sleeve and smiled his lopsided smile. He pushed up his glasses. “Oh, Allison is wonderful. She works very hard.”
    “Does she?”
    “Yes, we have to mop the floor and then vacuum it too. She does the mop, and I do the vacuuming. We’re a good team, she said. I love her.”
    “Danny,” my aunt cautioned, “love is a