“Gal and Bob. They’re Bernese mountain dogs.”
The dogs snuffled at Margy’s hands. “Bob? Who names a dog Bob?”
“That’s what I thought. I’ve got their bowls and toys and a sack of food in my trunk.”
“Russ can fetch those. Russell?”
“Yes, ma’am.” He held out his hand to Clare. “Keys?”
“Oh, it’s unlocked.”
He shook his head. “Of course. Of course it is.”
“He thinks I should be more careful about locking up the rectory and my car,” Clare explained as Russ toted the fifty-pound sack of dog chow into the backyard.
“He’s prob’ly right. He usually is about these things.”
“I know. I guess I just feel that if someone is desperate enough to steal what I might have, he needs it more than I do anyway.”
The dogs frisked around Russ, trying to snatch the toys out of his arms. He flung them into the backyard, and Bob and Gal fell onto the rubber bones and squeaky ducks with abandon. He dusted off his hands and returned to the stone steps. “I’m on duty, Mom, so I’d better be heading back. I’ll see you at the parade on Sunday. Got roped into driving the squad car again this year.” He looked at Clare. “You want to follow me into town?”
His mother grabbed his ears again and kissed him. “Don’t be a stranger, sweetie. And keep yourself safe! There’re a lot of crazies out on a holiday weekend.”
“Don’t I know it. Bye, Mom. Thanks.”
“Thank you so much for looking after the dogs, Mrs.—Margy. Please give me a call if you need me to sit them or take them for a while. I’m in the phone book.” She extended her hand, only to be pulled off balance by Mrs. Van Alstyne’s hug. “I don’t shake hands,” Margy said. “I like to give folks a squeeze.” The old woman felt plump and sturdy and smelled of Elizabeth Arden’s Blue Grass powder. “I’ll have Russ bring you up here for dinner sometime soon. You can cook.”
Clare laughed. “Okay, we’ll do that.”
As Clare slid behind the Shelby’s steering wheel, Margy disappeared around the back. She could hear a cacophony of joyous barking. “Your mom’s really something. Not quite what I expected.”
Russ leaned against the door of his cruiser, facing her. “Mom’s like the Spanish Inquisition in that old Monty Python skit.”
“ ‘Nobody expects the Spanish Inquisition!’ ” they both quoted. He laughed.
“I really am grateful to her. Now I can tell Paul the dogs are well taken care of.”
“You gonna call him?”
“I’m not sure how to reach him. I gave him my number and asked him to call me. Of course, I haven’t heard anything yet.”
“Well, the hospital should update me on the situation at some point. I’ll let you know what’s happening.”
“Why would the hospital…” He watched her as the answer came to her. “Oh. If Emil dies, it’ll be a murder investigation.” He jerked his chin in assent. She compressed her lips for a moment, and they both fell silent. Finally, she asked, “Do you have any leads?”
“Not any worth jack-all. We lifted prints but didn’t get any matches. Paint flakes that are the most common red used by Chevrolet. Our best bet right now is finding a red Chevy vehicle that’s recently gotten some damage. I’ve got Noble checking out all the area body shops and auto-parts stores this morning.”
“That’s it?”
“That’s it. It’s not like
“Russ…” She paused. “What if Ron Handler was right? What if it is a hate crime?”
“I sure as hell hope it isn’t.” He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “You know the real difference between an ordinary assault, if I can call it that, and a hate crime? The ordinary perpetrator is beating up on an individual. He’s mad, he acts on his feelings, and then he’s done with it. The perp attacking a victim because of the group he’s in…” He sighed. “He might not stop until he’s run out of people to hate.”
Chapter Six
“Okay, so you won’t forget that you’re going to pick up the candles and bring them over to Mom and Dad’s house.”
“I thought I was supposed to take them to the church.”
“No, Todd, you’re driving Aunt Sue and Uncle Bill to the church, and you’ve got to be there no later than eleven-thirty! You’ve got to have those candles at Mom and Dad’s in time for the florist to pick them up to take them to the church!”
“How come I can’t just take them to the florist’s and—” A rising screech cut him off. “Never mind. Never mind. I’ll have the candles to Mom by seven o’clock.”
“In the morning.”
“Of course in the morning! You know, there wasn’t nearly this much fuss when Tim got married. All I had to do was find a jacket and get there on time.”
“That’s because Tim’s a man. I’ve been dreaming about this day ever since I was a little girl! Everything is going to be perfect. It’s going to be a total fantasy come true.”
“Yeah, well, that’s what Princess Di thought.”
“Todd! That’s awful!” Her voice softened. “Someday you’ll meet someone—you know, someone special—and
