I had to smirk at this. I looked at the bottom of the document, this Doctor Susan Chukwuemeka likely resented the threat since she freely shared the information with our vet.
I read all the other documents on Darius' treatment and demise and realized one form was missing. I pulled up the AKC breeders database online. What? Of course, I'm a registered member, I own a dog rescue, please try to keep up here.
I looked up Darius Larkin and found his record as active. Pieces were falling into place left and right the further I dug into this. The Larkin's didn't file the paperwork with the AKC signifying the death of a dog in the registry. This wasn't necessary for most of the dogs registered, only the ones of the highest pedigree so they could track bloodlines better, and Darius definitely qualified.
The Larkins wanted people to think Darius was alive. Liar, liar, pants on fire. I contemplated that. Well, of course, Finnegan, else why would they be posting that he was available for stud. And how had they switched Killer's DNA profile with Darius' at the lab? They had to know they'd get caught once someone checked the independent lab for corroboration.
At that, I looked at my email again and was pleasantly surprised that I had already received an email from the lab. I blinked at the impossibility of it. A positive match for Darius again. What the ever-loving fuzzy heck was going on? Had they somehow bribed all these people to...
My thought trailed off. Whatever conspiracy this was, all centered around Killer. And the incident with Mr. D showed that they weren't above violence to get what they wanted. I corrected myself, 'if' it was really the Larkins. I was just making an educated guess here. Jane said she'd contact the Tarrytown and Hudson Valley police to share our suspicions so they could investigate too as Kennedy and Garcia coordinated.
Something was still nagging at me in the back of my mind, trying to tell me something, but I couldn't grasp the thread to pull it closer. I'd have to contemplate it later. “Come on boy, time to walk the girls.”
The whole time we were with the fuzzy girls, who looked far too cute chasing the tiny fabric frisbee from my shoulder bag, my instincts kept screaming at me to open my eyes.
As we dropped off our last client, Princess, I was a nervous wreck, thinking about Mr. DiAngelo getting hurt because we believe someone was looking for Killer. The pup was a loose end, and the man doing the break-ins was violent. Would they... would they kill the poor little terrier if they got their hands on him? Disposing of the evidence as they say?
My fingers started flying on my cell, texting my suspicions and findings to Jane. Then I thought about what would happen if the man, who I thought was Mr. Larkin, got bold enough to enter Central Park Tails in broad daylight to grab Killer from there. Would he hurt the staff or the dogs?
Shit.
I told Cal, “Detour. We're heading to get Killer.” I gave silent thanks to the seven canine lords of Nebula B that mom was out on one of her assignments today. I think it was signing up for ladies roller derby to see if a half centenarian could keep up with the twenty-somethings that commanded the sport. So the silly Yorkie-butt would be at CPT.
I texted Garrett to ask if the dog could stay with them for a few days until we got all this sorted out. The perpetrators wouldn't look at their place, especially with a doorman, my friend Jamal, and building security at the 855 Building. I wanted to get him someplace safe while keeping my people and my mom safe too.
He responded with, “Would it do me any good to say no?” with a winking emoji.
I sent off, “No.”
His reply was, “And I don't suppose I'll get an explanation?”
I grinned as I repeated, “No.” And added a super smiley emoji.
Then he said, “Fine, but you'll owe me, sis. When will you be by? Do I need to sneak out of work? Not all of us have the cushy hours you do.”
I sent a tongue sticking out emoji and said, “About an hour. And I work my butt off, Gar.”
He echoed my emoji back to me, and I snorted. I loved my brother. He 'got' me. Always has. It's a twin thing.
My mind was going down a checklist. I sent Jane and Jess both a text since Jess would get home before me since she only worked until three each day and Jane had said she would try to get off early today. Ker might even beat me.
As we slid into CPT and I waved at the staff, then I took a little time to greet all the wagging tails with lolling tongues attached as they swarmed Cal and me. I had to smile at the fact that Calvin sort of kept the rambunctious young pups away from Puddles as she wiggled her way slowly to me.
God, I loved that Cocker Spaniel. She was my first dog, and we had been through a trauma together the day we met, and she showed me that even though I had a hole in my heart where my dad used to be, I could still love. Again my heart ached at how slow she moved now, being so very old for a fuzzy one.
I gave her lots of lovin', then when she moved off to discipline a particularly rowdy husky mutt pup named Sienna, I gave the silly wigglers some attention. I had to smile. All the dogs looked up to Puddles like the mother of the pack. And while Calvin was here, he was pack Alpha. When Barney was here with old Ruff, the Golden Retriever made a suitable substitute as Alpha for my boy.
I snagged the little Yorkshire Terrier who looked like he was on springs as he bounced up and down, trying to say hello to me and Calvin's ears that he had some obsession with. I grinned and held my shoulder bag open, and Killer hopped right in, then his head popped up so he could see.
I was pleased that he was so comfortable with me already and knew the bag meant a new adventure. I stood and moved over to the main desk. “Hey, Ralph.”
“Hey, boss.”
“Don't call me boss.”
“You got it, boss.”
I pointed at the wet nose sniffing toward him at a mile a minute. “Sign Killer out with me? Not sure when he'll be back.”
He nodded and asked, “Any luck finding his parents?”
I sighed and shrugged. “Maybe, but I don't like who it may be. Hopefully, there's someone else out there missing him, and I'm wrong.”
He tilted his head, his brow furrowing then started shaking his head slowly, “You're many things, boss, but I've never seen your gut be wrong.”
I sighed heavily and shared, “That's what I'm afraid of.”
I stepped toward the door and called out, “Ok, see you later Ralph.”
“Boss.”
Then I called out, “Cal.” His ears perked up as his head snapped toward me, then he was in motion and slid in on my left. He must have sensed our current mission was important because he had his work face on. A consummate professional. I crouched as I slipped through the first set of doors, and snagged his leash. Then once we battled back the silly pack who decided they wanted to go with us with the help of a chuckling Ralph, we stepped outside.
The chilly afternoon wind hit us, and I was glad I wore tights under my dress. I turned toward the Park, to take a shortcut to Gar and Becky's, chuckling over the fact that all of my shortcuts were always through Central Park. My entire world orbited around that park, and nobody knew it better than Calvin and me. I hesitated, then squinted down at my bag, which currently had a super cute fuzzy head sticking out of it.
I fished out my cell and booped a Yorkie nose just because I could, then looked around, knowing Jane would hate what I was about to do. I sent out a Broken Leash on the dog walking network. But instead of asking the dog walkers to help with an escaped dog, I instead asked them to be on the lookout for Mr. Larkin and not approach, just inform me of his whereabouts if they saw him.
Dog walkers were among the groups of people who were the background noise of the city, so ubiquitous that people didn't even notice them anymore. We were one of the invisible groups of people, like doormen, or maids that people never gave a second glance. We were just part of the city, always there.
But we all watched and listened, privy to the conversations around us, unnoticed by all.
There
were over ten thousand registered dog walkers in the big city alone, we... are legion. What? I know I've said that before... a lot, it doesn't make it any less true. Now shush, let me tell the tale.
There was still a chance the man who broke in wasn't Mr. Larkin, but on the greater chance it was him like my gut was telling me... we had eyes everywhere, and any dog walker in our network worth their salt would know who Mr. Larkin was.
I smiled at the cell and then turned us back toward the park. “Ok, kids let's go see my brother.” Ooo maybe he'd pull Alyx out of daycare on his way home, and I'd get to see my super niece extraordinaire as a bonus.
Just as we entered the park a block later, a green sedan sped off on the perimeter of the park on Central Park West, toward the 65th Street Transverse. I watched as it slowed in traffic that was getting thick as rush hour approached.
Why did I get a bad feeling about this?
Chapter 13 – It All Comes Together
I smiled as we started navigating the pathways that were like the arterials pumping the lifeblood of the park around, funneling people from one scenic view to another. My cell buzzed and I saw a text from Garrett. Oh come on, my brother told on me? Really? He had messaged mom that I was heading over and being all mysterious. She was done with the first day of her assignment so told him she'd meet us at his place.
As we approached the tunnel under 65th near the carousel. I noted that green sedan again passing above. Ok, I was being paranoid now. It made me think about how much of a creature of habit I was, I was going to walk us past the Balto statue on the way up to 72nd where we'd exit the park and head to Madison. Paranoid-Fin was wondering how long someone would need to watch me to suss out my patterns.
Wait. I was not a trouble magnet. Now, everyone, had me thinking like that and causing this unease. Grr. I was nobody's victim. Jane had taught me that. So I just straightened up, and pushed the paranoia away and grinned at the dogs.
I proceeded to trip on a crack in the asphalt path, I stumbled but regained my footing before anyone noticed my supreme lack of grace. Well, except that man over there... the older couple walking past... the lady and her kids who were smiling at me... dear lord of all that is fluffy and right in the world. I sped up as the burn of a blush heated the tips of my ears. Smooth Finnegan, really smooth. Run Calvin run!
Ok, I had to grin at myself. One should never take themselves too seriously.
Just as we were heading out of the park, and crossing 5th, my cell was buzzing. I pulled it out and glanced at it and hesitated. Two dog walkers had spotted Mr. Larkin getting out of a green sedan at the corner of 72nd and Madison and looking toward the park.
Ok... not paranoid after all. I looked down into my shoulder bag in indecision, having to smile at Killer who was peeking his head out, his tail wagging as so many people walked by as rush hour commenced. I told Calvin. “Change of plans. We go the back way in.” We headed south instead, and to the back alley that would deliver us to the service entrance of the 855 once we crossed Madison.
I had an inkling earlier, that whoever was breaking in everywhere had used the registry from the bed and breakfast to look me up with a records search. Now I was sure of it. Sure, it wouldn't take more than a simple internet search to find my FinneganWalks.com website, and it highlights Central Park Tails. But they had found my apartment too. And now it seemed they knew where I was heading. So they had to know about all my properties.
I felt sort of violated, someone using my public records to basically stalk me and break in everywhere. They were desperate. And they were doing all of this for what? Well, a million dollar payday. Twice that if they offered Killer for stud for two years masquerading as Darius. Each successive litter would be less and less valuable as flooding the gene pool with a single sire was frowned upon.
So had they bribed two separate labs? It wasn't out of the question, but to fake the database timestamp was. I stopped Calvin at the entrance to the alley as everything became crystal clear to me as that nagging in the back of my mind came roaring to the forefront.
I looked at Calvin. “Of course, boy!” I looked down at poor little Killer and sighed. I picked him up out of the bag to snuzzle his nose on mine. He licked my nose, and I giggled at him as I asked, “You're a clone, aren't you boy?” I patted him and placed him back in my bag.
What my mind had been trying to tell me was that as we passed through Tarrytown toward Sleepy Hollow, the answer to all of this was right there, at the side of the road in a modern glass and steel structure. Carradine Biotech. They were one of the genetics labs across the country that offered pet cloning for people who couldn't live without their sick and dying dogs.
It was an expensive process, around fifty thousand dollars. But the Larkins stood to lose a million or two when they found Darius was sick. They must have gone to Carradine to preserve his, well his umm genetic material. And went ahead with their plan last year. Little Killer was the result.
I understood the one stumbling block. It was that clones are heavily regulated, and in New York, they must be spayed or neutered and are not allowed to breed. Even though they are genetically the same as any other dog, and their DNA would match the donor, each clone needs to be registered, and everyone would know.
Maybe that's why they waited three years to enact their plan. They needed to get an in at the lab and found the proper person who would take a bribe to not register the cloned pup. It would be easier than trying to change the DNA records at both the independent lab and the AKC. This way, there was only one other person in on the deception.
The only loose end was their vet, but it seemed they felt their threat of a lawsuit was enough to keep them quiet.
Damn.
I pulled up the family group on my cell and sent a quick text. “911, heading to 855 service entrance. Larkin's on 72nd. See you in a couple minutes.”
We hustled through the alley and when I looked down at the plethora of texts my family was sending, all telling me not to chance it and get into a public place. Jane had sent one expressly forbidding me to go through the alley we were already in. Snort.
When I saw another two texts from walkers, I froze. Shit. I hadn't given the Larkins enough credit it seems. Their plan was so poorly conceived I figured they'd be easy to deceive. One walker said Larkin was heading toward the alley, and another said they were following Mrs. Larkin as she was heading around the block to the far end where we had entered.
I said, “Time to move, kids.” Then started running toward the alley mouth and skidded to a halt when Mr. Larkin, looking angry enough to eat nails stepped into the alley, blocking our way. He got a cruel smile on his face, and I turned the other way, “Come on Cal.” We ran the other way, but as we approached the street, Mrs. Larkin stepped in to block our escape. By the holy tug rope, we were boxed in.
I turned to the more menacing threat as Mr. Larkin almost strolled casually up to us. Mrs. Larkin said from behind me, “Just give us the dog, you stupid bitch, you've already ruined everything.”
I smirked and pointed out, “I'm a dog walker, bitch isn't the insult you think it is.” Then I pulled my bag to me so she couldn't get at the little pup who was growling menacingly at her. I glared and said through gritted teeth as I kept an eye on her husband, “He's a clone, and he doesn't seem to like you much. Did you abuse him?”
Mr. Larkin looked shocked that I had pieced it all together, then his eyes narrowed in determination.
His wife snapped, “It's not a him. It's a thing. It isn't my Darius, it's an aberration, a necessity so we can get our investment back. Darius was supposed to be our retirement insurance. So we had this... thing made.” She had so much disdain for the poor puppy.
I asked as the two, as they boxed us in even more beside a dumpster, “So now that your little breeding scheme is ruined, you're what? Going to dispose of the evidence?”
Then the man scrubbed his face and asked his wife, “Now what are we supposed to do about her?” I swa
llowed, and my panic started rising to a palpable level. Was he indicating they should silence me... permanently? For a failed fraud scheme? Calvin sensed my growing fear and moved in front of me and started to curl his lips back to show his glistening white fangs.
The woman looked at the man incredulously, “We're not killing anyone, you stupid lout. Once we have that thing, we can dispose of it, and it is her word against ours. It'll all just be hearsay.”
My mouth forgot to check in with my brain before I was saying, “Until the authorities find the person you paid off at Carradine not to register the cloned puppy. I'm sure they'd be willing to tell everything to avoid conspiracy charges.”
Both of their eyes widened, the shock was apparent on their faces that I had it all worked out to the last detail. And now I realized how stupid it was to share how much I thought I knew, which had just been verified by their reactions.
The man reached over Calvin to try to grab my arm, but Cal lunged forward, snapping his teeth at the man as he growled with all the menace of the wolf I'm sure he saw himself as. The man blurted, “Shit!” As he backpedaled, Calvin snapping again at him.
The man kicked out one of his stout legs with all the force he could muster, I almost yelled out to Cal, that kick could shatter bones, but my Border Collie, my protector, was far too fast for the man. Cal spun away and danced to the side, snapping at the outstretched leg and with a tearing sound, came away with a patch of denim in his teeth.
The big man backpedaled. “Jesus Christ.” He looked around and picked up a splintered board from a damaged wood pallet, and he held it like a baseball bat, his full attention on my fuzzy avenger.
I gasped then twirled as I felt a tug on my shoulder bag, seeing Mrs. Larkin had used Calvin's distraction to try to get Killer. My fear was turning to rage. They were perfectly willing to kill a poor defenseless animal to save their own butts. I glared at the woman and took a lunging step toward her and brought my foot down on her's with a vengeance.
Case of the Yorkshire Pudding Page 11