Yip/Tuck

One of Laguna Beach's best-known plastic surgeons may need a new leash on life. Unless he's just taking a very long nap on the bench outside Melinda Langston's Bow Wow Boutique . . . Dr. O'Doggle continued to give us the silent treatment. Fluffy eyed him intently. I studied him too. Tova Randall wasn't my BFF, to say the least, but I didn't wish her boyfriend any bad luck. My neighbor, Darby, relaxed her grip on Fluffy's leash. The big Afghan lunged toward Dr. O and knocked him over.Tova's handsome hunk rolled off the bench and dropped with a thud at our feet.Darby gasped. My stomach knotted. &quote;No, no, no.&quote; I shook my head. &quote;Not again.&quote;I knelt down and shook his shoulders. &quote;Dr. O'Doggle?&quote; I grabbed his suit lapels and yelled, &quote;Jack?&quote;No response. No, &quote;I'm fine.&quote; No, &quote;Stop yelling in my face.&quote; No, &quote;Get your hands off me.&quote;No, no, no.I checked his throat for a pulse. Nothing. But he was still warm. My fingers brushed against something knotted around his throat, and I'm not talking about his tie. I pulled back his shirt for a better look. I sucked in a breath, my nose filled with a light female perfume I didn't recognize. A thin dog leash was wound tightly around his neck. Identical to the kind I sold at the shop.This was not an accident.&quote;Is he . . .?&quote; Darby asked softly.I looked up at her. &quote;Dead. No more late night walks for him.&quote;