L.A. Kornetsky - Gin & Tonic 03 - Doghouse

by L. A. Kornetsky

  The younger woman picked up the leashes, one worn and pink, the other brand-new and black, from where they were coiled on the table. “Hey, Georgie, you want to go for walkies? C’mon, pup, let’s introduce you to the wonders of hydrants, huh?”

  “Parsifal isn’t really up for a long walk,” Teddy warned her. “You’re going to end up carrying him most of the way.”

  “Yeah, well, my pocketbook weighs more than he does. I think we’ll be okay. C’mon, guys, walkies!”

  “She should try that at six a.m., see if she’s so cheerful about it,” Ginny said, watching the younger woman clip leashes to both dogs and usher them out the door, Parsifal barely managing to keep up.

  “I don’t think Stace has even seen six a.m., unless it was from the other side.” It was a side effect of their job: you worked late nights, not early mornings. And her other job was working as an artist’s model, and he didn’t think artists were much for 6 a.m., either.

  “Hey, Seth,” he heard her say as she went out the doorway, which gave Teddy just enough time to put on his work face before the older man came inside. He had Deke in tow, both men looking exhausted.

  “Good morning, ladies,” Teddy called to them. He reached over and pulled two bottles from the chiller and popped the tops, sliding them across the bar. “You guys look like you could use this.”

  “Thanks.” Seth took it, drained half the bottle. Deke merely held his, his thumb rubbing back and forth across the label.

  “You guys look like a few miles of bad road,” Ginny said with an utter lack of tact, frowning at them. She wasn’t wrong, although it wasn’t as though either man was a commercial for clean living and bright eyes, even at his best.

  “They fired me,” Deke said, his voice carrying exhausted outrage, as though he’d been saying it over and over and it still didn’t make sense to him. “Why did they fire me?”

  “We talked about this, Deke,” Seth said, and Teddy was pretty sure he hadn’t ever heard the older man sound so much like a worn-down patient. “You knew the job was short-term. And they gave you two weeks’ notice.”

  “But everyone there liked me. They said so.”

  Seth rubbed his face with his hands, pinching the bridge of his nose between his index fingers. “Nonprofit center, Deke. Budget ran out, and you were low man on the salary pole. It’s not about… anything else. Just bad timing. C’mon. Take your beer and help me get the kitchen set up, okay? Leave these people to their work.”

  Teddy and Ginny watched the two older men head into the back, and then Ginny shook her head. “That is a man who wouldn’t have any luck if it wasn’t for bad luck.”

  “I’m almost afraid to stand next to him, yeah. Considering the news, I think I’m going to take a rain check on talking to them about… anything right now, okay?”

  “It’s not going to get any easier to ask them,” Ginny said, and then held up her hands in surrender when he gave her a look. “Hey, you’re the schmoozer; you pick your moment. Just don’t wait too long.”

  Ginny could have argued for going in after Deke right away—hit him when he was down, which was an asshole thing to do but probably effective—but part of their deal was that she gave way to Tonica in things like this. Anyway, Parsifal was getting walked, so they couldn’t drop him into the older man’s lap just then, anyway.

  She had a sudden spurt of guilt—intentionally surprising a guy they already knew wasn’t tight-wrapped, on what sounded like a particularly bad day, wasn’t cool. But it was for his own good, and what else were they going to do?

  She turned back to her work, entering the names of the renters into a grouped search, hoping that something might jump out and trigger a revelation.

  As usual, working put her into a slight fugue state. She was aware of Tonica dealing with someone who wanted a refill, of the murmur of conversation, but none of it really reached her. When there was a change in light when the front door opened, though, she looked up, expecting to see Stacy and the dogs returning. Instead, a figure lurked just in the frame, leaning forward as though uncertain of his welcome. “Excuse me?”

  “Hey,” Tonica called, a professional smile on his face. “Come on in, we’re open. Quiet right now, but open.”

  The man stepped inside, looking around the place. He seemed to like what he saw, giving it a small smile and a nod. “I’m looking for, um, Seth Wilbernosky?”

  “Wilbernosky? Huh.” Ginny looked up at that, tilting her head as she took in the newcomer. Short, blond, pale even by “we never see the sun” Pacific Northwest standards, and that was saying something. He wasn’t wearing a suit, just a jacket over slacks, and a button-down shirt, no tie. Hair was a little shaggy for a G-man or cop, too, although that wasn’t a deal killer. “What did Seth do this time?” she asked, anyway.

  “What? Oh, no.” The guy came all the way into the bar and reached in his pocket, handing Ginny a business card.

  “Larry Zimmerman. I’m with the county social services. Mr. Wilbernosky was down as the contact person for one of my clients, and I wanted to speak with him, but he wasn’t answering his phone, so…” Zimmerman gave a half-apologetic shrug, like he did that a lot.

  “Yeah, he doesn’t have a cell phone, so you were reaching his landline. Seth!” Tonica half turned, and called toward the back. “Get your scrawny backside out here. Please.”

  “So why did you need to talk to Deke?” Ginny asked, making a wild guess.

  Zimmerman gave her a long look. “Are you a family member?”

  “No,” she admitted. “A concerned friend.”

  “Well, as a concerned friend, I’m sure you understand that such things are private.”

  As shutdowns went, it was pretty polite, but definite. Ginny nodded, acknowledging that she’d stepped over a line, and things might have gotten awkward, except Penny took that moment to appear, stalking toward Zimmerman with her tail erect and her whiskers quivering, in full investigative mode.

  “Oh hey, honey.” Zimmerman leaned down to pet Penny as she wound herself around his legs. “And who are you?”

  “That’s Penny,” Tonica said. “Hope you’re not allergic.”

  Before Zimmerman could answer, Seth came out, and Stacy came back in with the dogs, the puppy, as predicted, cradled in her arms. “Everyone did all their things,” the younger woman announced, handing Georgie’s leash to Ginny and depositing Parsifal on a stool, interrupting anything Seth or Zimmerman might have said to each other.

  “And who are these pretties?” Zimmerman asked, as the shar-pei sniffed happily at the stranger’s outstretched hand.

  “This is Georgie,” Stacy said, “and that bundle of cute is Parsifal.”

  Ginny started to say something about Parsi looking for a forever home, if Zimmerman was dog-inclined, when Deke came out, an apron wrapped around his waist and the bottle of beer still in his hand. “Hey, Seth—oh. Hi, Larry.”

  “Hi, Deke,” Zimmerman said, masking any surprise he might have had at finding the other man there. “You missed our meeting last month.”

  “’S’not mandatory.”

  “No, but it does help keep you focused. How are things?”

  “Crap. I lost my job, and I don’t have anywhere to stay.” Deke’s voice managed to be both placid and bitter, as though he’d accepted that life wasn’t ever going to give him anything nice.

  Zimmerman went into alert mode, the same way Georgie did when she heard an unfamiliar sound. Ginny could feel her stomach tense, even though she didn’t know what he was reacting to.

  “What happened to the place you were renting?”

  “Landlord kicked me out.” Deke’s face screwed up, like he was about to go into the entire story, and you could hear the thud of the other shoe dropping. Ginny didn’t know why Deke rated a social worker checking up on him, but she was pretty sure Larry was going to want to know why Deke was abo
ut to become homeless, and that meant talking about the accusations, and odds were that would create exactly the mess they were trying to avoid. She lifted her gaze to Tonica, hoping he’d have an escape route, but before either of them could say anything, Seth jumped into the conversation.

  “They’re having a disagreement about the specific terms of the lease. Nothing serious. We expect it to blow over in a few days.” Seth lied like a champ. Either that, or he really had that much faith in what she and Tonica could do.

  “You’re still there, then?” Zimmerman asked. “Do you need an advocate to help you? I can arrange someone to come in—”

  “No, we got it handled,” Seth said. “Really.”

  Zimmerman had flipped open his notepad and was writing something down. “He’s staying with you, in the meanwhile?”

  Seth scowled, then looked at Deke and nodded once.

  “All right, I’ll need your address, then, since someone who shall remain Deke failed to inform me of this.”

  “It’s not my fault,” Deke said, protesting, but with the resigned voice of someone who isn’t surprised he’s in trouble again. “It’s because of the dogs. I didn’t do nothing wrong!”

  Tonica opened his mouth like he was about to say something, and Ginny shot him a glare—she would have kicked him if she’d been able to reach, and if it wouldn’t have been so obvious.

  “The dogs? These dogs? Deke, you know what your lease says.” Zimmerman frowned at him. “I didn’t know you even liked animals.”

  Georgie took that moment to shove up against Deke’s leg, and Penny advanced across the counter, knocking her head against his shoulder, as though they were flanking him, showing that yes he was, in fact, an animal person. Deke absently reached out to knuckle the top of Penny’s head, between her ears. Normally, the tabby didn’t allow liberties like that from anyone except Tonica, but she almost seemed to welcome it this time, and Parsifal let out a sharp yip and raced to sit on Deke’s feet, chewing on the laces of his shoes as though upset at being left out.

  “He’s… Seth’s,” Ginny said. “The puppy, I mean. Georgie’s mine.”

  Seth blinked, then nodded. “Yeah. Don’t blame me for the name, he had it when I got him.” The older man scowled at Ginny, as though asking why the hell she’d saddled him with supposed ownership of a dog he’d never seen before. She gave a helpless shrug, not sure why she’d done it, either. They’d planned on shoving the puppy in Deke’s face, yes, but this wasn’t the time. They needed Deke focused right now, not flustered. Seth was Deke’s friend, and that would cover them in case anyone had seen the puppy in Deke’s house, since she didn’t think that admitting that the dog was an illegal tenant and possibly an escapee from a dogfighting outfit would be in anyone’s interests… .

  They hadn’t even been on this case for forty-eight hours, and already it was all muddled and confused. Usually it took them at least four days to hit this point.

  “Well, it’s good you have somewhere to stay, until this is worked out.” Zimmerman cocked an eye at Deke, who was surrounded by the three animals like some sort of furry honor guard. “The puppy’s yours, isn’t it, Deke, not your friend’s? It’s okay. I think you should have gotten a pet years ago, personally. And this pretty tabby girl here, is she yours, too?”

  Ginny couldn’t stop herself from smiling in relief. “Penny… belongs to herself.”

  There was something in Zimmerman’s voice that told Ginny that this guy was on their side. Or Deke’s, anyway, which was even better. He wasn’t going to intentionally cause problems. But she still didn’t like the fact that he’d come to check on Deke just then. From the look on Tonica’s face, neither did he.

  “So why the urgent visit?” her partner asked, then raised his hands in the universal sign for “not that it’s any of my business.”

  Zimmerman flipped back to professional mode, although he didn’t shut Tonica down the way he had Ginny: they’d passed some sort of test, she guessed. “His employer let us know that he’d been let go, since we’d gotten him the job in the first place. I wanted to do a check-in, make sure that everything was okay. Especially since he missed his last check-in…” The glare that accompanied that was worthy of Ginny’s mother at her worst.

  “Ain’t obligated,” Deke said again, still petting Penny, not looking up.

  “No, you’re not,” Zimmerman agreed. “But I can’t help you if I don’t know there’re problems. We’ve talked about this before, Deke. You need to keep your nose clean.”

  Right, Seth had said something about Deke being a guest of the county for a while. Ginny hadn’t been aware that they did follow-up on things like that—with the budget cuts, she’d think everyone would be too overworked to give a damn about one harmless ex-boxer. Just Deke’s luck he got assigned to someone who still gave a damn, exactly when he needed people to not notice him.

  “So, he’s not in trouble or anything.” Tonica made it sound like a statement, not a question.

  “He’s going to need to get another job,” Zimmerman said. “We’ll work on that. But so long as he has a place to stay, everything should be all right. I’m sorry about the job, Deke, but you handled it well. That’s good.”

  Ginny assumed that meant he hadn’t hit anyone.

  “I still haveta go downtown?”

  “We can consider this to be this month’s meeting,” Zimmerman said. “But I want to see you next month, yeah. No excuses this time!”

  There was a tense stretch after Zimmerman left, having gotten Seth’s promise to get Deke to his appointment next month and refused Teddy’s offer of a beer. Then Seth let out a deep sigh, looked at the puppy still gnawing on Deke’s bootlace, and turned and looked at Ginny as though this was all her fault.

  “More damned animals? And you shove it onto me?”

  “Well, it didn’t seem like the right time to mention that oh, we found it in Deke’s house, abandoned and half starved, did it?” Ginny pitched her voice low so that it wouldn’t, hopefully, carry over to the customers who had so far pointedly ignored what was happening at the bar, but she was still obviously pissed.

  Teddy winced. Ginny had a long fuse but a sharp temper, and Seth managed to ignite it more than anyone else. This was just one of the few times he hadn’t done it intentionally.

  “What?” Seth’s voice was satisfyingly shocked at her bombshell, and he glanced at Teddy as though looking for verification. He nodded once. That was enough to turn Seth’s attention back to Deke. Teddy felt sympathy for the older man, facing that glare, which could have melted steel.

  “Damn it, Deke. You lied to me!”

  “Did not!”

  “Then you gonna tell me that you don’t know how a dog got into your house? Didn’t know it was there, all this time you were swearing you were innocent?”

  “I never went down there!” And Deke clamped his mouth shut like he’d just gotten an electric shock or something, his eyes wide and a little more scared than Teddy liked seeing in an adult. Or a kid, for that matter. In anything. He’d had a cousin who had that look once, after a stint in rehab. Like he knew he was half a step away from screwing up his last chance.

  “Deke.” He shot a sideways look at Seth, a “shut up and back down” look he used just before a fight broke out, when he thought he could still talk things down. Seth knew the look and sat down on one of the bar stools, muttering under his breath. Ginny had taken Parsifal onto her lap, Georgie at her feet. Penny sat on an empty stool, washing her paw without any interest in what was going on around her.

  “Deke,” Seth said again. “Come on, man. We’re trying to help you. But you need to be straight with us.”

  “I am,” Deke said, his voice sulky.

  “C’mon, Deke.” He waited.

  “I never went down there,” Deke said again. “There was a separate entrance, the root cellar door. They used that. I didn’t look,
didn’t ask. Lease said no dogs in the house. They weren’t in the house.”

  “Logical to a fault, if not exactly legally accurate,” Ginny said. “Who used the door, Deke?”

  Deke shrugged, still sulky and sullen. “They left money in the mailbox, every month. Five hundred, cash. I didn’t ask.”

  That would explain how he could afford the rent. Teddy kept his gaze on Deke, not letting him look away. “And you never heard anything? Really?”

  Deke looked even more guilty.

  “Deke, tell us.”

  “Sometimes. There were… noises. Things moving downstairs, sometimes a whimper or… howling, sometimes.” Deke shuddered, a whole-body shake. “Like huge rats, or… demons.”

  “Demons?” Ginny’s eyebrow almost broke her hairline, Seth rolled his eyes with an expression of long-suffering patience, and Teddy tried to keep things on track. “Focus, Deke.”

  “I didn’t do anything wrong. I didn’t look, I didn’t listen. He had no right to kick me out of my house.”

  Seth slapped his hand down on the bar, causing Parsifal to jump and Penny to stop washing her ears and look at him. “Your lease said no pets, man. You told me—”

  “They weren’t pets!”

  “Deke!” Teddy let his voice rise, just enough to cut through both of them. “Stop splitting hairs, and help us. Who were the guys who were keeping the dogs down there? Anything you can remember, at all. What did they look like, what cars did they drive, how many of them were there?”

  Hopefully, the specific questions would focus the old man enough that he could answer, and not melt down. There was a pause, and everyone could practically hear the gears spinning in Deke’s head. Teddy kept still, watching, trying to convey with his gaze that he wasn’t going to let Deke skate on this, not until he came clean.

  “I only ever saw two,” he said finally. “One of them came every day. A kid, maybe fifteen, sixteen. Scrawny but tall, like a tap would take him out. Every morning, around seven.”

  “Before school,” Ginny said quietly. “Probably to feed the animals.”