This is later in the book at an animal fashion show during the pet products trade show:

I nodded my thanks and headed back to the other room. About two thirds of the seats were now occupied, with more people hustling in. I elected to stand in the back rather than sit, where I could keep watch on all that was happening. I still had that tickling in my brain, like I knew something I should be remembering, but couldn’t make it surface.

Then Margeaux stepped up to the microphone to welcome everyone to the show, thanking the sponsors, the pets and their people who were participating, and the audience for coming. She finished by yielding to another woman who did the introductions of the pets, owners, and the creators of the outfits they wore.

Soothing music poured from the speakers as the owners paraded in, leading their canine, and occasional feline or other, friends. The first few dogs marched along the runway in a business-like manner. One balked for a moment, but the promise of a treat got him going again.

A French poodle (I think) in a stylish blue vinyl raincoat and matching booties sashayed down the length of the table platform in a gait worthy of any French human model. The German Shepherd stalking behind him or her in a handsome knit burgundy sweater glowered at the audience. A pug in a Halloween costume complete with elf ears, green felt body and fake legs and feet in the front looked like he wondered why he’d ever thought this was better than life at the shelter. But they all marched obediently down the line of tables and back.

Even the cats were, for the most part, surprisingly compliant, though several wore looks of resignation that made clear they were only here for the rewards.

The ferret appeared ready for anything, even clad in a blue and white knit sweater, and didn’t seem to mind being on a leash, while the guinea pig that hopped onto the runway a few critters later, appeared intent only on squeezing out of the pink knit hoodie. He had to be picked up and carried by his human partner after flatly refusing to budge on the first table.

The audience ate it up, laughing at the animal antics, applauding, and cheering some. Apparently Faulkner wasn’t the only animal celebrity present based on the level of clapping some received.

The show appeared to be going smoothly aside from occasional balky animals. Better than I expected. Something still tickled in my brain, something I couldn’t quite connect. My stomach started to warn that it was in need of sustenance, too. I wasn’t needed here, so I turned to go.

As I reached the door, I heard a grunt, then a screech, followed by a babble of voices and laughs rising into a commotion. I looked back to see what was going on and something rushed past me on the floor, so fast I could barely absorb what it was. After a moment, though, I realized it was a clear plastic globe, maybe ten inches in diameter, with a small, furry brown occupant. I searched back through childhood memories and came up with it. Hamster ball.

The little critter in the ball was firing on all cylinders, moving faster than I’d have guessed possible. Before I had time to react, he blew past, hit the wall, turned and made his way out the door no one (myself included) thought to close, and scooted down the hall toward the lobby. I chased after it, with a number of others following right behind.

This wasn’t a time for seminars letting out or getting ready to start, so there was no one in the hallway to impede the rodent speed demon. He did crash into the leg of one of the service tables, but that barely slowed him as he rolled on past.

Two people walked toward us and a couple of people yelled for them to “Stop it.” The approachers halted and looked confused as the hamster raced past. Moments later I passed them, as well, with a group of people trailing behind me.

We gained on the ball, but then the hamster reached the end of the corridor, where it opened out into the lobby. If he went left, he’d roll into the registration area, but a right turn would take him into the food court. He veered right, smacked into a chair leg, bounced back and reversed his course, heading for the more open area between the escalators and the registration desks. More people milled around here, but the wily hamster threaded his way through them with surprising agility.

Sacrificing any remaining shred of dignity, I yelled to one of the women I recognized at a registration kiosk, one I knew was sharp enough to get the message and respond appropriately. “Joan! Joan! On the floor coming toward you. Stop it.”

Do they catch him?  You’ll have to read the book to find out.

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Kindle: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0FVG552CL
Nook: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/unleashed-for-murder-karen-mccullough/1148502547
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Murder crashes the pet products trade show…

The Pet Palace booth is the undisputed crown jewel of the pet products trade show, and its owners, two retired pro football players, bring their own brand of star power to the sale of high-end, luxury gear. When one of them dies at the show, however, he leaves behind jealous competitors, angry suppliers, a line of women he pumped and dumped, and a fiancée he may not even have known about.

Heather McNeil’s job as assistant to the director of the D.C. Market and Commerce Center is mostly about keeping events running smoothly, dealing with disputes, accidents, and conflict. She never signed on for solving murders, but sometimes it’s part of the job, too.

Amid the plethora of cozy canine couture, upscale pet feeding stations, slick kitty litter boxes, and unmentionable lizard foods, Heather has to sort through the human emotions at play and follow the clues to a killer, all while dealing with her own personal heartbreak.

Pre-order ebook here: 

Kindle: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0FVG552CL
Nook: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/unleashed-for-murder-karen-mccullough/1148502547
Other formats: https://books2read.com/u/bMvkV5