A Bloodhound to Die for by Virginia Lanier

She asked the lady sitting next to her to save our seats.
    The rest rooms were off a corridor on the right, and when we entered, the four stalls were full and several women were at the long dressing table trying to repair the wind and rain damage to their makeup and hairdos.
    I recognized one of Leon’s first cousins and flinched when I saw her turn her angry countenance on Susan.
    “Well, I hope you’re satisfied, Susan. Spreading all those lies about Leon got him killed! Florence told me what you said about him. You should be ashamed of yourself!”
    Susan stood frozen in shock. You could have heard a pin drop on the indoor-outdoor carpet. A few seconds later she regained her poise.
    “And you are…” she replied unemotionally.
    “Oh, you wouldn’t know her, Susan,” I drawled. “Edna doesn’t read, so she wouldn’t frequent a bookstore. Maybe we should all take up a collection and buy her a Ms. Manners book on etiquette, if they print one with lots of illustrations.”
    “You stay out of this, Jo Beth! You’re not the hotshot you think you are. You saved the hostages and even the damn dog. Why couldn’t you have saved Leon?”
    A woman standing next to her and having a strong family resemblance put a hand on Edna’s shoulder, which she angrily shrugged off.
    “You owe Susan an apology, Edna,” I said quietly. “If I were you, I think I’d ask Florence who-all she told, and then check who they told. I wouldn’t be surprised to find out that you confided in a few more yourself. Come along, Susan, we don’t want to be late in paying our respects. Ladies.”
    When Susan and I were back in our seats, I reached for her hand and squeezed it gently.
    She managed a wan smile. “Thanks.”
    “Forget it. Consider the source.”
    During the service, I happened to glance her way and saw tears brimming her eyelids. I wanted to throttle Edna for being such a bitch. Half the town had contributed to the tragedy. I vowed silently that I would never again ask her who had told her and would stop trying to find out how the vicious rumor had started. A lot of people were suffering and any action on my part couldn’t bring back the three people who had died.
    Reverend Willis announced that the graveside services had been canceled due to the inclement weather. We began lining up to speak to the family, and say our farewells to Leon.
    I had always believed, even as a child, that viewing the body in the casket was a barbaric ritual. Prettying up a corpse, dressing it in pastels or backless business suits, and displaying it on padded satin seems a bit much. Some of our townspeople still practiced the old ways of bringing the body home and sitting up allnight with relatives and friends. To each his own, but I had made it quite plain in my burial instructions that my casket would be sealed.
    I looked ahead and noted that Edna was not in the receiving line. Since Leon’s parents, two brothers, and a sister were there, no cousins were needed to represent the family. I was relieved. I wouldn’t put it past Edna to make a public scene as Susan was passing. I focused on the flowers that were at each end of Leon’s casket. I had no desire to view his remains. Instead, I remembered the sunny afternoon just five months ago that he came with Sara to pick up Sherlock from the kennel.
    He had laughed and held Sherlock and was surprised by the loose wrinkled-skin soft bundle of fur. That’s the way I’d remember him.
    We moved past the family, briefly touching hands and patting shoulders, and I nodded with sympathy when we reached Leland. Both Susan I and took a deep breath of the rain-laden air when we reached the sidewalk. Two funerals down and one to go. A truly depressing day.

   12
“A Puzzling Incident”
August 27, Tuesday, 8:15 A.M
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    I was up with the birds, but it was after eight when I sent Bobby Lee to fetch his lead. When I joined him on the back porch, he seemed puzzled. He looked at me and back to the post where