Back at Petunia's, Dad and I huddled over coffee to talk out what we'd learned. Mom did her usual take care of us act while my pug lingered, looking for scraps. Dad's messy eating habits notwithstanding, I wondered how many of his cake crumbs hit the floor because he was actually clumsy or in an effort to hide the truth-he loved feeding Petunia who scrambled with her efficient and noisy snorfling to capture every last molecule.

I was distracted enough by the case to let ...