Free A Hell of a Dog by Carol Lea Benjamin

hearing anything last night or this morning.” I saw one of the detectives walking down the hall with Audrey at his side. “He was supposed to lay the track for us, for one of the dogs to follow, and he didn’t show up.”
    She was writing something in her notebook. A second detective passed us, Bucky King walking next to him.
    â€œYes, across the hall. But I sleep with the air conditioner on,” he was saying as they passed us and headed down the stairs.
    â€œWas Mr. Cooper here by himself, Ms. Alexander, or did his wife accompany him?”
    â€œAs far as I know, all the lecturers are here without family. Except for our dogs,” I added.
    She looked up and smiled at me. Then she looked back down at her notes. “Did Mr. Cooper seem depressed?” she asked. “Or agitated, you know, upset, jumpy, anything that seemed out of the ordinary to you?”
    â€œNot that I could tell.”
    â€œMy dear young man.” Beryl and the third detective were in the hall. “Once I take out my hearing aid, there could be a five-alarm fire at the hotel, and it would go unnoticed in my room.”
    Detective Flowers reached into her pocket and pulled out a card. “If you think of something you might have seen or heard.”
    â€œDetective—”
    â€œDetective DeAndrea is going to explain what happened in a moment,” Flowers said. “Come with me.”
    We headed back to the breakfast room, where I took my chair and looked around the room. Woody raised his eyebrows, but all I could do was shrug. I leaned toward Chip. “Did they ask you anything?” I whispered.
    â€œJust if anyone had seen Alan last night after he left the group. What’s the deal here? Did Sam say? Where’s Alan?”
    I didn’t get the chance to answer. The door opened, and Audrey, Bucky, and Beryl came in quietly and took their seats. Sam and the three detectives were right behind them. While the others remained near the doorway, DeAndrea stepped closer to the table. He stood with his feet slightly apart, ready for anything. Muller, standing next to Sam, was putting his notebook away. When he clasped his hands behind his back, I could see the bulge of his gun under his navy jacket. Detective Muller was apparently ready, too.
    â€œFolks,” DeAndrea said, “I’m sorry to inform you that one of your colleagues, Alan Cooper, has had an accident.”
    Tracy stood. “What happened? Is he okay?”
    â€œNo, ma’am. He’s deceased.”
    Detective Muller walked over and assisted Tracy back into her chair. “Can I get you some water?” he asked, even though there was a glass of water at every place setting. Tracy shook her head.
    â€œWhat happened?” Woody asked.
    â€œIt appears that Mr. Cooper had moved the clock radio from his nightstand to the towel shelf over the foot of the tub so that he could listen to it in the bathroom. It seems that when he got up to get out of the tub, he slipped and grabbed for the shelf to catch himself. He took the whole shelf down with him into the tub, including the radio.”
    Cathy covered her mouth with both hands, Audrey was trying to shred her cloth napkin, and Rick’s dead white skin seemed even paler than usual. I looked over at Sam, but she wasn’t looking in my direction. Woody and Chip got up. Then Bucky rose.
    â€œSit down, if you would, folks. There’s nothing for you to do. Ms. Lewis here has given us the information we need. The hotel staff has been very cooperative. We’ve been in touch with Mrs. Cooper, who’ll be here this afternoon to pick up his personal effects and the dog. It’s unfortunate, in the middle of your convention, but accidents happen. I’m sorry for your loss,” he said, looking down for the first time. “I hope you’ll be able to settle down and get on with your work.”
    He turned his back to us and whispered something to Sam, who