Hammer squatted, holding a treat in her fist.

Popeye assumed her defiant stance and just stared at her.

“Sit.”

Popeye wouldn’t.

“Lie down.”

Popeye didn’t.

“What’s gotten into you?” Hammer asked.

The shockwaves traveled quickly and with alarming repercussions. Hollywood Cemetery’s maintenance supervisor immediately alerted the cemetery association president, Lelia Ehrhart, who instantly called every member of the board, including Ruby Sink, the association secretary and the most likely person to spread the news.

Miss Sink decided to go out and get her newspaper at the precise moment Chief Hammer was walking by with Popeye. Hammer quickly moved past the two-story brick town house with its Doric front porch and original cornices and windows. Miss Sink picked up speed, shuffling down steps and over cobblestones.

“Come back here,” Miss Sink called out.

Hammer did not appreciate being ordered about.

“Good morning, Miss Sink,” she politely said without slowing down.

“I need to speak to you.”

Hammer stopped while Popeye did her best to continue on course.

“It’s just a darn good thing you showed up,” Miss Sink answered.

“Be good, Popeye.” Hammer pulled the leash.

Popeye pulled back.

“Popeye,” Hammer warned.

“What an awful name for a dog,” said Miss Sink. “What’s wrong with her eyes?”

“It’s normal for the breed.”

“Did you have her tail chopped off?”

“No,” Hammer replied.

Miss Sink leaned over to get a better look at the stumpy, cock-eyed tail that covered nothing important. Popeye began to lick herself in a naughty place and suddenly sprang straight up into the air, her tongue darting into Miss Sink’s mouth. Miss Sink jumped back and screamed. She rubbed her lips and looked sick as she thought about where that tongue had just been. Popeye grabbed the hem of Miss Sink’s pink robe and almost pulled the frail old woman off her feet.

“Now Popeye, you behave. Sit,” Hammer emphatically said.

Popeye sat. Hammer fed her a Lung Chop. Miss Sink was mortified and momentarily speechless. She rubbed her mouth and checked the hem of her robe, looking for damage.

“What was it you wanted to talk to me about?” Hammer asked.

“You mean you don’t know?” Miss Sink raised her voice. She glared hatefully at Popeye as she bent over to pick up the paper.

“Know what?” Hammer asked, irked that there might be something Miss Sink might know before Hammer did.

“Someone vandalized Hollywood Cemetery!” Miss Sink’s fury gathered. “Graffiti all over the statue of Jefferson Davis!”

“When did you find this out?” asked Hammer as Confederate troops rose up and began marching through her mind.

“I want to know what the police are doing,” Miss Sink demanded.

“Have we been called?” Hammer asked.

Miss Sink thought for a moment.

“This is the first I’ve heard of it,” Hammer went on as Popeye got interested in Miss Sink’s ankles.

“I don’t know if anyone called,” Miss Sink said. “That’s not my responsibility. I just assumed whoever happened upon the crime would have called the police. Of course, I just got the call myself a few minutes ago. They think some U of R basketball player did it.”