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picture. “And very good-looking, I assume?”
    â€œEnough to put a championship on a Boxer with a bad bite.”
    Ouch. “So Ben is handsome. And he apparently doesn’t mind manipulating people. Anything else?”
    Aunt Peg nodded. “Bertie was probably correct to talk about Ben’s career in the past tense. At one point when he was younger and starting out, it seemed as though anything at all might be possible: parts on Broadway, character roles in movies, Shakespeare in the Park. But somehow years went by and none of that ever came to pass.”
    She paused for breath, and Terry took up the explanation. “After the stint in the soap opera, Ben’s career pretty much stagnated. In any other business, he’d be in his prime. And Lord knows, the man looks good . But as an actor in his early forties, he’s already a has-been.”
    â€œDon’t let Ben hear you say that,” Bertie warned. “He’d probably lop your head off and hand it to you on a plate. Facing reality has never been Ben’s strong suit. His career might be fading, but he’s not going down without a fight.”
    â€œWhich brings us back to you,” said Peg. “And this contest offering national exposure to the winner. Everybody knows how desperate Ben O’Donnell is to make a comeback. I’m betting he sees this as the way to make it happen.”
    â€œI read the contest rules,” I said. No point in mentioning that I’d read them after the fact. “Chow Down is offering exposure to the winner’s dog, not the owner.”
    â€œDon’t kid yourself, Ben will find a way to shoehorn himself into the publicity even if he has to handcuff Brando to his wrist.” Terry paused reflectively. “Though now that I think about it, the notion of Ben with a pair of handcuffs—”
    â€œTerry.” Aunt Peg glared.
    â€œYes, ma’am.” He ducked his head.
    â€œYou guys must be exaggerating.” I held up my hands as if forming a scale. “Chow Down dog food?” One hand rose. “Shakespeare in the Park?” The other plummeted. “What’s wrong with this picture?”
    â€œPlenty,” said Bertie. “And the worst part about it is that Ben and Brando are in it at all. But you don’t have to take our word for it. You can see for yourself what a sweetheart Ben is because here he comes now.”
    â€œReally?” Peg swiveled to look. I did, too. Then Terry joined in for good measure. Which meant that by the time Ben O’Donnell reached us we were all standing there staring at him like a quartet of idiots with nothing useful on our minds at all.
    I supposed he could be forgiven for tipping his head sideways and staring back. We must have looked rather odd. Not to mention the fact that we’d all suddenly fallen silent at his approach.
    â€œBen!” Aunt Peg said heartily into the awkward silence. “Imagine that. We were just talking about you.”
    â€œReally? Saying only good things, I hope.”
    The actor’s smile was smooth and practiced and, all right, pretty darn appealing. He possessed the kind of rugged good looks that, at one time, would have been perfect for cigarette commercials; I could see why he’d been cast as a cowboy. Idly I noted that he was probably the only person on the show ground with better hair than Terry.
    Whom, as it happened, he was staring at right now. “Nice feathers,” he said.
    â€œThanks.” Terry’s grin was cheeky. Like maybe he was hoping the jury was still out on the whole hetero thing.
    Ben didn’t rise to the bait. Instead he turned and focused his attention on me. Beneath the cool shade of the grooming tent, being the object of his regard was like having a beam of sunlight turned in my direction.
    â€œI know everyone else here,” he said. “Which means that you must be Melanie Travis. I’ve been looking for