Owls Well That Ends Well by Donna Andrews Page B

Horace said. “We were wondering if you could help us keep them away.”
    “Me?”
    “Well, you did it before the yard sale started,” Horace said.
    “Wasn’t me,” I said. “But I’ll go get Spike. Find a bullhorn or something and tell the crowd to step behind the outer fence, or I won’t be responsible for the consequences.”
    Spike was exiled to his pen beside the barn, though they’d shut the doggie door we’d installed in the barn wall, which would have let him go inside to spy on the crime scene. He seemed bored, and almost glad to see me. At least he only bit me once while I was snapping the leash onto his collar, and even that was rather perfunctory. The Doberman and the pit bull, who’d been cowering at the far side of the pen, looked quite relieved to see him go.
    “Attention, ladies and gentlemen,” came Horace’s amplified voice. “We’d like you to step back behind the short outer fence. Please step behind the outer fence, or Meg won’t be responsible for the consequences.”
    Titters ran through the crowd, and rose to a crescendo when I appeared, half-pulled by the eager Spike. When we’d opened up the sale, we’d simply moved part of the outer fence aside. I made sure the ends were closed off so Spike couldn’t escape, leaving a long crescent-shaped area for him to run in. I lifted him inside and let him have the full length of the leash. He lunged toward the nearest people who’d ignored Horace’s command, barking and snarling in his best Exorcist fashion. Only my weight at the other end of the leash slowed him enough to keep the first few malingerers from being bitten, and after that, people got the message. As Spike hurtled along, the path cleared magically before us. Well, before him. A few people stepped back in after we passed, but when we got to the far end of the run, I undid the leash and declared open season on anyone who ignored Horace’s very reasonable request. Spike quickly cleared the open space and then trotted up and down inside, defending his territory against invaders.
    “That should work,” Horace said. “See, I told you Meg would know what to do,” he added to the other officer, as they headed back to the gate.
    “Just give us our yard sale back as soon as possible,” I huffed after them.
    Michael spotted me, and came over to talk through the fence.
    “Great idea,” he said. “And I promise, I won’t tell Mom what you’re doing with her dog.”
    “She said he needed more exercise,” I said, still panting. “Best exercise in the world, running. Look how lean and fit greyhounds are. You seem to have everything under control.”
    “We should be finished with the customers in half an hour,” he said. “Then I thought I’d take your mother into town to keep her entertained—want to come?”
    “Keep her entertained how?” I asked. Call me suspicious, but I had a hard time imagining what entertainment Mother could find in Caerphilly. The town didn’t have that many elegant shops and restaurants to begin with, and she’d already exhausted the charms of those in the past week while staying with us.
    “She has some new ideas for decorating the house,” he began.
    I winced.
    “I’m not in the mood to talk about decorating with Mother,” I said, trying to keep my tone light. “If you want to take her, that’s fine; just please don’t bring back any stuff right now. I’m not sure I could take adding any more clutter before we get rid of all the junk that’s already here for the yard sale.”
    “She was talking about paint colors,” he said. “I don’t think that’s apt to involve much clutter.”
    “Paint’s fine,” I said. “I like paint. We could decorate entirely with paint. If we painted the various rooms with really beautiful colors, we wouldn’t even need all that much furniture. Just elegant, uninterrupted expanses of color.”
    “Uh … right,” Michael said. “I’ll tell her to suggest some nice self-sufficient colors. If