The Retrieval by Lucius Parhelion Read Free Book Online Page B

humorous rubes chasing pigs through State Fairs.”
    Right then, the general migration toward the dining room began, and Laura gave Charlie an admonishing look before taking his arm.
    Charlie got through the meal by recounting well-worn literary anecdotes to his neighbors and mentally reworking the people he was eating with into minor characters in an unprintable novel. It helped that Laura was on what passed for her best behavior. Even when she was talking with the actress Ingra Songaard, who was both a smolderer and an obvious handful, Laura stayed cheery and polite.
    After dessert -- Biscuit Tortoni, and, as promised, quite good -- they all returned to the Lowery’s living room where a pair of photographers took pictures of attractively posed clusters of guests. Then the photographers left and the company relaxed into only slightly less attractively posed clusters as they talked politics and box-office returns. The stances were instinctive; most of the people in the room had the constant awareness of being observed that went with being either star performers or studio powers.
    Laura drifted over to exchange smiles with Fran Cooper and give some low-voiced instructions to Jake that ended with him leaving the room. It was the only clue Charlie needed to know that the time for tribute had arrived even if the soft-footed reappearance of the photographers hadn’t been a give-away.
    The gifts to Mr. Lowery struck Charlie as rather expensive and extremely obvious. He thought Miss Songaard’s sterling silver pheasant was nice, but most of the other presents seemed forgettable. However, under the influence of this birthday bribery, Lowery was relaxing at last, smiling genially from where he’d settled into a bergère armchair to one side of the largest coffee table.
    Laura’s gift was the last presented, likely because she was the biggest star in the room. One of the young attendants carried in her antique wicker basket. Seeing it, Mr. Lowery sat up straight. “What have we here?”
    “Something for your collection, perhaps?” Mrs. Lowery asked her husband with a fond smile. “I’m sure we could fit a few more display cases into your study if you’re willing to sacrifice your windows.” That earned some chuckles; Lowery’s hobby seemed to be well known around Hollywood.
    Lowery was too busy unwrapping to respond to the teasing with more than another absent smile. He obviously knew his hunting accoutrements. By the time he’d revealed the teal decoy and studied it reverently, his smile had widened into a beam. “Now, here’s a hell of a thing,” he told Laura, setting the teal down on the coffee table for further admiration.
    “Happy birthday, dear,” she said, planting a daughterly kiss on his cheek beneath the indulgent gaze of Mrs. Lowery. Everyone ignored the crinkling noises and brilliant flashes from the photographers’ bulbs.
    Straightening, Laura turned in a swirl of skirt. “Oh, I almost forgot. There’s one last gift.” She made a broad and attention-attracting gesture toward the door.
    In came a maid with Ducky in tow. To Charlie’s eyes, the maid was tugging Ducky’s lead harder than she needed to, obviously nervous. Ducky was following along patiently but with his raised tail hinting at his strain, and the passing look he turned toward Charlie was tragic. Even so, his appearance led to a predictable chorus of oohs and aahs, especially from the female guests.
    The maid unclipped Ducky’s lead, set it on the coffee table next to the other gifts, and hastily retreated. Charlie started to move toward the dog, but Ducky sat without being commanded.
    “Who’s this?” Lowery asked, still pleased but obviously a little bewildered.
    “Yes, he’s a darling, but who is he?” Mrs. Lowery chimed in.
    “Uwe von Entejäger Kamp,” Laura told them, doing a decent job with the pronunciation. “He’s a Weimaraner, the most aristocratic and exclusive of the gundog breeds. I’d heard you wanted someone