A Pedigree to Die For Read Free

thought it was height. But beside my aunt’s vivid coloring, my own brown hair and hazel eyes had seemed plain and unremarkable. Sometimes the sheer force of her personality left me feeling as though I’d disappeared all together. Looking after her now, I couldn’t see that much had changed.
    When I joined them in the dining room, Frank was pouring the coffee while Aunt Peg got straight to business. She began with her realization—hours after she’d discovered Uncle Max—that Beau, their valuable stud dog, was missing.
    â€œI don’t see why you’re assuming the dog was stolen,” Frank broke in. “With all the confusion that morning, he probably just wandered away. Dogs do like to roam, you know.”
    The glare Aunt Peg sent his way held all the warmth of granite in winter. “My dear boy, Poodles do not roam, and Beau did not wander away.”
    I caught Frank’s eye and shrugged. He grinned in return, a toothless grimace that questioned the sanity of older relations.
    Aunt Peg frowned sternly. “Unfortunately, the authorities were no more excited about Beau’s disappearance than you two seem to be. Even the FBI said that they couldn’t step in until there was some evidence that the dog had been transported across state lines.”
    I choked on a sip of coffee. “ The FBI? Aunt Peg, you didn’t really call them, did you?”
    â€œOf course. I’ve called everybody. And now it appears that I am going to get no more understanding from my own relatives than I did from total strangers.”
    The line was intended to produce guilt, and it fulfilled its function admirably. At least I had the good grace to blush. Frank merely settled back in his chair, resigned to hearing her out.
    â€œSuppose you tell us why you think somebody took the dog,” he said.
    â€œFor starters, the door to his pen was wide open. Beau is smart, but he could hardly have managed that by himself. ”
    â€œUncle Max was in the kennel,” I pointed out. “Maybe he opened it.”
    â€œMaybe, but it’s highly unlikely. We had three bitches in full season at the time. Nobody in their right mind would stir up that kind of mayhem. Which brings me to my next question—what would Max have been doing out in the kennel in the middle of the night anyway?”
    â€œSleepwalking?” Frank suggested. I kicked him, hard, under the table.
    â€œHardly,” Aunt Peg said dryly. “He was dressed at the time. Obviously, he’d never been to bed at all.”
    â€œIsn’t that unusual?” I asked.
    â€œNot for Max.” Unexpectedly, Aunt Peg smiled. “He used to stay up to all hours, reading or working in his office. It overlooks the kennel, you know. Still, I’m sure he wouldn’t have gone out there unless he had a good reason.”
    â€œGranted, there are a few unanswered questions,” said Frank. “But do you really think it’s possible that someone would have broken into your kennel and fought with Uncle Max, all because of a dog?”
    â€œAnything’s possible,” Aunt Peg said crisply. “When someone wants something badly enough.”
    â€œBut why . . . ?”
    The look Aunt Peg bounced back and forth between us made it perfectly clear that any relatives of hers should definitely be quicker on the uptake. “Maybe it will be easier to understand if I explain that Beau is not just an ordinary dog. In fact, far from it. He was a knockout as a puppy, and even better as an adult. He finished with four straight majors and had a Best In Show before he was two. This past winter when Max and I retired him to stud, we had more requests than we could possibly handle.”
    â€œEven so,” said Frank. “He is only a dog. What’s the most he could be worth?”
    Aunt Peg looked pointedly down her nose. “I’ve had offers in excess of twenty thousand