Free Hounded to Death by Laurien Berenson Page B

un-brushed coat and wounded eyes. He needed more in the way of human intervention than just one measly granola bar.
    I already had five big dogs at home, I told myself firmly. The shepherd’s welfare wasn’t my responsibility.
    â€œShall we?” said Aunt Peg. She was already signaling for the check.
    Bertie pushed back her chair. “I’ll go up to the room and get our coats.”
    â€œShall we what?” I asked.
    It appeared to be true. Pregnancy had dulled my brain.
    â€œGo find ourselves a stray dog, of course,” Peg said briskly. “What else?”
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    Just like that the decision was taken out of my hands.
    As soon as I’d opened my mouth, I should have realized exactly what would happen next. Present Aunt Peg with a cause and a dog, and you’d have to wrestle her to the ground to regain control of either.
    Especially now, when her own family of Poodles remained at home in Connecticut and she was feeling dog-deprived, Aunt Peg couldn’t wait to lead the way outside in search of the indigent German Shepherd. She took over like a woman on a mission.
    It had grown dark while we were eating dinner, but the area around the inn and its various outbuildings was well lit. Aunt Peg marched down the front steps, stopped and looked around, then headed toward the buffer of tall pine trees that surrounded the parking lot.
    â€œHe went in this direction?” she asked, but didn’t wait for confirmation.
    As it happened, she was heading the wrong way.
    â€œIf you were a homeless dog, out alone at night,” Aunt Peg said, thinking aloud, “where would you be?”
    â€œIf I was a stray but I used to be somebody’s pet,” said Bertie, “I might be looking for company. Or maybe a warm place to sleep.”
    â€œI don’t think so,” I spoke up. “I bet he’s still hungry. If I were that dog, I’d be out behind the kitchen looking for something to eat in the garbage cans.”
    â€œGood thought.” Aunt Peg abruptly changed course. Then she stopped for a moment and studied the main building thoughtfully, working out a blueprint in her mind. “Judging by the position of the dining room, I imagine it’s safe to assume that the kitchen would be around the back.”
    â€œFollow me,” said Bertie. “There’s a path that leads between the buildings. It runs alongside this hedge….”
    Even in the semi-dark she seemed to know where she was going. Aunt Peg and I fell into line behind her.
    â€œYou’ve done this before,” I said. “What’s back here?”
    Bertie laughed. “The famous hot tub of course. It’s off in a little alcove between the inn and the health club. We’ll see it in a minute, as soon as we come to an opening in the hedge.”
    Aunt Peg’s long-legged stride slowed. Behind her on the path, I was forced to check myself.
    â€œYou don’t suppose anyone would be out there now, do you?” she asked.
    Aunt Peg’s curiosity about the facilities had to be due to Richard’s suggestion that they sample the hot tub’s pleasures together. Surely she couldn’t be serious about doing such a thing?
    â€œEasy enough to find out,” said Bertie. When a gap appeared in the hedge, she veered right and headed toward a lighted area.
    â€œWait!” cried Peg. “We don’t want to disturb anyone.”
    â€œIt’s a public place. Open to all the guests. If people don’t want to be seen doing something, they shouldn’t be doing it out here.”
    Hoping Aunt Peg would take those words to heart, I followed along behind. On the other side of the hedge, we found ourselves in a small, square courtyard. The area was bounded by trees on two sides, and the back of a building, presumably the health club, on the third.
    Overhead lights illuminated the large wooden tub in the center of the square. It sat on a raised platform and was