“Everything looks wonderful. The signs were a brilliant idea. And I can’t believe the ice sculpture of the Greyhound.” I pointed toward the banquet table. “And the rabbit looks so lifelike.”
“Rabbit?” She frowned and turned toward the table. “There’s no—”
Just then the rabbit moved.
“Well, for cryin’ in a bucket.” The rabbit looked like a real bunny rabbit because it was a real bunny.
The furry floppy-eared critter scampered the length of the loaded feast, honey-glazed carrot clamped in its teeth, leaving a trail of shrimp cocktail bunny tracks across the buffet. Then the rabbit went airborne onto the closest guest table.
Which was all it took. It was like the starting gun had been fired.
The Greyhound stationed near the table sighted the hare and began the chase. Instantly, chaos reigned.
Hound chased rabbit, hound chased hound, humans chased hounds. Leashes trailed, tables tipped, trays of glasses tumbled.
I could still see Sam, but he was carried backward by the wave of people and Greyhounds. Complete and utter pandemonium.
I surveyed the bedlam to see what I could do to help.
I decided one Greyhound at a time was the best tactic. I started toward the closest dog, a beautiful jet-black hound.
All at once, a man popped up in front of me. It was the big ruddy-faced man Eugene had fought with earlier. His face was now pale as he tried to speak, but he gasped for air instead.
Thinking perhaps he had claustrophobia or was having a panic attack of some sort, I laid my hand on his arm and asked, “Are you okay? What’s wrong?”
He opened his mouth, but still nothing.
The man reached out to me and grabbed my shoulder. I winced as his hand leaned on Grandma Tillie’s brooch and pushed it into my flesh. He lunged forward against me knocking me off balance.
“Sir? Sir, what’s the problem?”
As he fell at my feet, my question was answered.
The problem was there was a very large carving knife sticking out of his back.
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