Case of the Poodle Doodle

by Erik Schubach

  I squeaked out in a mix of arousal and disappointment, “It's ok. Love you too.” I gave an awkward wave from my hip and sighed as I watched her stride away, her shapely hips swinging.

  Then as the girls re-situated themselves in the booth, Ker snapped her fingers with a grin, “Larry... Earth to Larry.”

  The boy almost started, then turned his attention from me to the task at hand, blushing profusely. I asked him, “Could you please run the last meal in a to-go bag out to the woman who just left? She'll be standing outside.” He nodded as I nodded. He really was a cute boy, why did everyone look so young to me the past couple of years? I couldn't be more than four or five years older than him.

  Once he left us to our meal, of all the people to say anything, it was my mom who mentioned in amusement, “You know what the poor boy will be fantasizing about tonight in bed.”

  I blinked in shock as I blurted out, “Mom!”

  Chapter 3 – Dog

  We had a great meal, talking about the recent happenings in our lives like we did when we had our family dinners at mom's. I even got to change Alyxandra's diaper when she woke up. What? No, it isn't a weird thing to be excited about. There's a specific method to a proper change, the steps are laid out and do not deviate. It is like checking things off of a list while cleaning up. And I love lists... and cleaning... and my niece.

  Calvin made out like the little bandit of hearts he resembled with his fuzzy black mask over his silky white fur. Everyone, like me, was sneaking him bites of food under the table. He must have thought he was in canine heaven. We all, of course, pretended we didn't catch each other breaking the rule of feeding him at the table... especially human food.

  I'd probably be more strict and worry he was going to turn into a huge beach ball if he didn't walk so many miles with me five days a week as we walked our clients in Central Park.

  And well, he's just so darn cute too.

  We were just looking at the dessert menu longingly, debating on whether or not we should be bad, when Larry came walking swiftly up to the table with an honest to goodness wireless landline phone in his hand.

  He asked as he looked at Kerry, who was patting Calvin's head. “Mrs. May?”

  Mom, Rebecca, and I said in unison, “Yes?” As Kerry just chuckled, shaking her head.

  The poor boy looked confused and chose mom to address, “Finnegan May?”

  Mom smirked. “Bless you, young man.”

  I rolled my eyes at her and told Larry, “I'm Finnegan, Larry, and it is McLeary-May. Ignore these evil women.”

  He offered up the phone to me with both hands, like it were the Ark of the Covenant or something. “It's a detective from the NYPD for you.” All the chuckling at the table went silent as my blood ran cold. I saw something bordering on panic in Jessie's eyes as I took the phone with a tremor in my hand.

  I knew what Jess was thinking, and part of me was afraid of the same thing. That this was the call that the spouses of all police officer's feared. It was the reason that Jane and Jessie's relationship hadn't worked out. Jess couldn't handle the stress of not knowing if her girl would be coming home or not every day.

  I pushed the panic down, reminding myself that while it had been too much for Jessie, I accepted that it was a risk of Jane's job. Jane protected so many and gave a voice to those who had been silenced by violence. I brought the receiver up to my ear and asked, “Hello? This is Finnegan McLeary-May.”

  My heart started beating again, and I exhaled a shaky breath when Jane said, “Duh, short stuff. I know who you are.”

  I gave the others a reassuring look as I blurted under my breath, “Why did you call the restaurant instead of me?”

  She hesitated, then responded with realization coloring her tone as she said carefully, “Because, love, you turn your cell off when you are eating with people.” Then she started to recite one of my unwritten rules... well they used to be written... and laminated... but she had convinced me to throw the written rules out the door and just come up with new rules as we went along. “When eating with family or friends...”

  I cut her off. “Yeah, yeah, silencing your cell shows not only respect for them, but for yourself too. It only makes good sense, you know, lady.”

  She chuckled. “I know, I know. Well, I called because I wanted you to know that I'm at the crime scene, and the owner of the art studio had been attacked and was in bad shape so was rushed to the hospital...”

  She hesitated, and I growled, “Spill woman.” What did this have to do with her calling me?

  My wife said almost in a teasing tone, “Well, he has a dog. I'm about to call animal control to...”

  I blurted as I stood up in the booth, “Don't you dare put a poor animal in doggie jail for something out of its control, you, you jerk cop! It can go to Central Park Tails... you know we are licensed with the city now as an authorized kennel for this exact type of...”

  She chuckled and said, “I know, shrimp. That's why I called. I thought you might want to come collect him from the crime scene instead of Animal Control. I'd never hear the end of it if I didn't give you the first call.”

  I tried to hide my smile as I slowly sat down again, telling her, “You know which side your bread is buttered on.”

  She ignored me and went on. “I've already sent a car to pick you up. See you in Hell's Kitchen in a few.” Then she whispered, “Love you, Fin.”

  I harrumphed, big bad Detective Jane McLeary was embarrassed to let other people know she had a heart under her ice queen exterior she projected to the other officers at the precinct. “Put me on speaker phone...”

  “Fin.”

  “Put me on speaker if you love me.” I almost felt bad about the guilt card. Almost.

  “Fine, you're on speaker.”

  I said in a sing-song voice, “I love you too, Jane.”

  I heard the other officers and crime techs call out oo's, and daw's. As she grumped out, “Thanks for that, I thought you were supposed to be the sweet one. See ya in a bit.” Then she hung up, and I contemplated that she never really said goodbye to me on the phone, most of our conversations ended with her just hanging up. I wonder why. I had an idea about it, but it was just too psychological.

  I looked at everyone apologetically as I returned the phone to Larry. “Sorry, everyone, I have to dine and dash before dessert. There's a dog I have to go save...”

  Becky was trying not to laugh as she chuckled. “Of course, there is.”

  I went on. “So Jane called me instead of Animal Control.”

  Ker nodded. “Of course she did.”

  I pouted. “We aren't that bad everyone. And I'm not that predictable.”

  Jess said as mom gave me a sympathetic look, “Of course you are, sweetie. And that's why we all love you.”

  The burn on my face and neck told me I was blushing profusely. “I love you guys too. Cal and I gotta get up front, Detective McBossyPants is sending a cruiser for me.”

  The evil wenches didn't even have the decency to say goodbye. Instead, Jessie called out, “Seven to one, Jane arrests her.”

  Mom was all, “I'll take some of that action,” as they all started pulling out their purses to lay money on the odds.

  I told Larry, “The Vegas crew there is paying if they are going to be throwing money all about willy nilly,” as I marched indignantly away with Calvin. Ok, I may have been grinning a bit. Who's telling this story? Me or you? Ok, then shush.

  My smile split my face when Cal and I stepped out onto the sidewalk. There, double parked by the Jess-Mobile, was an NYPD police cruiser, with my two favorite uniformed officers leaning against it, arms folded across their chests.

  Calvin and I wove through the foot traffic to the boys. I was feeling silly, so I curtsied as I greeted them. “Well if it isn't officers Garcia and Kennedy. How did I know it would be you who Jane sent?”

  Jorge knelt to scrub Calvin's ears as he pointed out, “We don't ask questions w
hen the detective calls.”

  I almost snorted. Jane had the reputation of being the Ice Queen of the precinct, and everyone was scared of her. Could she be abrasive? Yes. Cold? Yes. Overbearing? Ok, I could see it now. But those are some of her sexiest qualities. Maybe that's why she chose me because she doesn't intimidate me. Well not that I'll admit anyway.

  Jorge and Kennedy were Jane's first choice whenever I needed to interact with the police. I had such a good rapport with them ever since the first time they had been assigned as my glorified babysitters back when Tanya McKnight, suspected murderer of Calvin's owner, had threatened me. Jane has it in her head that I'm not really good with change, so she goes through great effort to make sure it is these two men are assigned to me whenever possible. Well, fine, I'm not really good with change, and I did feel safer with these two around.

  Officer Kennedy said as he slid his hat off like a gentleman to tuck under his arm, “Mrs. May.” His smile was genuine as he opened the back door for us. Calvin flowed right in and hopped with his front paws on the clear plexiglass partition to look out the front window. The silly boy loves rides.

  Jorge cocked an eyebrow at me. “This is a new look. I almost didn't recognize you without a dress.”

  I grumped out, “The girls wouldn't let me change before we went out.”

  He nodded and then chuckled, “One hot biotch?”

  “It wasn't my choice,” I muttered, giving him the stink eye as he patted his handcuffs while I slid in beside my fuzzy sidekick. “No, I'm not under arrest, thank you very much.”

  Mr. Funnyman shrugged and said as Kennedy shut the door, “It's hard to tell. I figure we have a fifty-fifty chance of it.”

  “Oh, hardy har, har. See if I bake you cookies this week.”

  Kennedy gave him a scathing look as Jorge made a locking pantomime at his lips and threw away the key. That's right, copper, no cookies for jokey butts. I beamed at them. Who was I kidding? Of course they'd get their own special container of cookies next time I baked for the precinct. I always spoil my favorites.

  Then after the men got in, turned off the strobing lights and pulled into traffic, the silver-haired Kennedy asked as he navigated us smoothly through the early afternoon traffic, “So what's goin' on in Hell's Kitchen?”

  I shrugged and offered, “Dog pickup?”

  With good humor, they both sighed. “Of course.”

  I smirked and shared, “I guess his owner is hurt and in the hospital, and Jerky McJerkface is threatening to call Animal Control to take him until his owner is out.”

  In unison again they said, “Ah,” with complete understanding. Kennedy prompted, “Need us to drive you to Central Park Tails afterward?”

  Shaking my head, I pointed out, “It's such a nice day, and Hell's Kitchen is a stone's throw away from the Park.”

  Jorge looked back at me, the babyfaced Latino just shook his head. “Doesn't it ever get tiring for you? I mean, you walk dogs all week long, now here on the weekend you opt to walk some more?”

  I shook my head and motioned my chin at the window. “What, with all the spectacular sights in the city? The architecture, the people, the hustle, and bustle. New York City is one of the most diverse and spectacular cities on Earth, and out there, on the streets, I get to experience every day, what others only dream of seeing.”

  I smiled at Calvin, whose tail was gently swishing, making the long fur on it flutter like feathers in a breeze. “And my office is Central Park, the crown jewel of Manhattan. Most people meet their clients in a boardroom or some stuffy cubical ridden space. Me? I meet my clients out in nature, among the trees and grass and paths that lead to so many beautiful locations. Why would I ever get tired of that?”

  Then I added impishly as I bounced on the seat, “And besides, I get to walk dogs.” Like that explained everything.

  The men exchanged thoughtful looks, then Kennedy inclined his head in the rearview mirror while Jorge nodded slowly, his brow furrowed in thought, “Well, when you make it sound so glamorous. I guess we can't blame you for enjoying it.”

  I shrugged. “What's not to like?”

  Kennedy deadpanned, “Two words... dog poo.”

  Ok, I may or may not have giggled at the man.

  I caught up on Kennedy's family and was happy to hear that Garcia was now seeing a dancer, Sakura, who Kennedy says has legs up to here. Where is here, exactly? Then they quizzed me on our progress on adoption, still incredulous that Jane was going to be a mom.

  A couple minutes later, we pulled up to a converted warehouse that had some businesses on the low level and what looked like low income lofts above them. There were a couple cruisers out front, and a couple uniforms blocking a door which looked like the entry for the living units above.

  They pulled up and put their lights on as they double parked by the other cruisers. Kennedy asked, “Want us to badge you in?”

  I shook my head and placed my hand on the plexiglass divider and said, “No, but thank you. Jane's expecting me. And thank you for the ride, gentlemen.” Then I tried to open the back door and squeaked at my failure. Duh, Finnegan, it's the back seat of a police car, where the bad guys sit.

  An overly amused Jorge slid out and opened the door for us, and when we got out, I poked his chest beside his badge. “Yuck it up, copper. Two less cookies in your care package.”

  His eyes went wide, and he became Mr. Silence again.

  I beamed a smile at him and bounced on my toes in satisfaction, then I looked down. “Come on, Cal, our lady awaits.”

  I glanced back and waved awkwardly from my hip. “Bye, guys!” They waved back, and I had to grin. Everyone always says Kennedy was just a stone-faced career beat cop with emotions of granite. I don't know what they are talking about since he is always so nice to me. We just had to chip off some of the curmudgeon exterior off of him, it's all an act.

  I watched them go then almost skipped to the door. The officers weren't from the 19th precinct, so I didn't recognize them. They blocked the way when Cal and I tried to walk past them. The taller one, a skinny middle-aged black man said, “Sorry, Miss, this is a crime scene.”

  I said as I tried to move past them again, “It's ok. I'm expected.”

  The other man, who looked to have Pacific Islander heritage put a heavily muscled arm across the doorway, making me squeak as I pulled back. I almost whined at the man, “I'm with Detective McLeary. She's...”

  The men looked me up and down dubiously. I felt the tips of my ears burning in a blush, knowing that of every outfit I owned, this was likely the most unprofessional thing I could have been wearing at that moment. The tall man shook his head, “Ma'am, we're going to have to ask you to...”

  A strong alto voice chimed out from a stairwell just inside the door, “It's alright officers, she's with me. Animal Control.”

  I cocked an eyebrow as Jane strode up to the door, looking all kinds of badass action heroine. Animal Control? That was an insult to me and my profession. She was so only getting angry sex tonight. I growled out as Cal darted between the men when I released his leash, to get some good lovin' from Jane when she crouched. The fuzzy traitor saw Jane as our alpha. She was soooo not my alpha. “Animal Control?”

  She looked so smug that I wanted to kiss the smirk off her face as she stood, stating, “It is easier than saying, 'My hyperactive, danger-prone wife, who owns a dog rescue which is cleared as a temporary city animal shelter.'”

  Grrr. I looked at the men who looked equal parts confused and amused as I reached forward to take the hand Jane was offering, and I gleeped at them as she dragged me along, pointing at myself. “Animal Control.” The jerk cop did have a point. Did they just chuckle?

  I was asking about the situation as we went up to the second floor and she hauled me along past a few loft apartment doors. One which was off its hinges and I could see a dusty, space with sagging wallboard and cracked plaster. Nobody had lived there for a long time.

 
We got to the end of the hall, and I kept looking back at the other loft. My fingers wringing, wondering if anyone would mind if I just sort of cleaned up in there a bit. At least sweep up the paster chunks on the floor or something.

  Jane snapped her fingers in front of my face. “Stay with me, love.”

  I gave her an embarrassed smile and then asked as we approached the apartment door at the end, which had another uniform standing guard, “What kind of dog is it? I have a couple spare harnesses and leashes in my bag, but nothing for a smaller pup.”

  She shrugged. “Some sort of big mutt. I've never seen one so fuzzy. He's not really friendly, and the victim had the first responders put him in the bathroom since he was growling at the paramedics and anyone who got close to his owner. The dog may need a muzzle.”

  I pulled her up short as we reached the door. My eyes were wide, and my voice was higher pitched than normal as I blurted out in incredulity, “A muzzle? A muzzle?” How could she even suggest something so barbaric? I growled out, “He's probably just scared and worried. He doesn't know if the paramedics were hurting or helping his owner. How would you react in a stressful situation like that?”

  Her smirk didn't help as she held her hand's palm out toward me in placation, letting me know she had just been baiting me. “Calm down, Fin, I called you, didn't I?”

  I muttered under my breath as she ushered me in when the man at the door stood aside, “Because you know what's good for you?”

  She nodded and repeated, “Because I know what's good for me.”

  See? Even jerk cops can be trained. I beamed a smile up at her.

  I glanced around to see the crime scene techs packing up their gear. The space looked better than the other apartment, though not too much better. It was still in need of a good dusting. But all around the large open space floor plan, were numerous canvas paintings. Literally, hundreds of them stacked everywhere. All covered in dust for the most part. The place looked barely lived in. The sitting area and the kitchen along one wall showed the only signs of recent activity.