Loyalty: An Avery Barks Dog Mystery (Avery Barks Cozy Dog Mysteries Book 6)

by Mary Hiker

  The comment caught me off guard. If dog-napping was their side project, I wondered what else these guys had going on. I got steady on my feet and scanned the immediate area for any other people. Two vehicles were partially hidden behind a shed at the edge of the property and Don’s truck was one of them.

  My hand softly gripped the camping knife in my pocket as my heart rate picked up speed.

  “Hand over the cash.” Hoss chomped on his toothpick and kept his distance.

  I unclipped the backpack, tossed it at his feet and held my breath. He unzipped the bag, rifled through the clutter of money and chuckled.

  “Quite a lot of small bills in there, don’t cha think?” He cracked a slight smile as he looked back up at me. “I’ll take your word for it.”

  He tossed his toothpick to the ground, reached into the truck and honked the horn. “Get out.”

  The young man emerged from around the corner of the house and stood with Chevy’s golden face peeking out from between his legs. I jumped down from the truck ready to grab my boy when a car flew by on the main road and let out some friendly honks.

  The young man immediately turned and retreated into the house, taking my dog with him.

  The big guy grabbed my arm and got so close I could smell the sausage he had for breakfast. “We instructed you to come ALONE.” He looked at me, then up to the road and then back again. “We told you, NO ONE else.”

  My eyes bulged. “I didn’t bring anybody,” I said and lifted my hands, palms up. “That’s a normal occurrence around here. People honk to say ‘hi’ all the time.”

  Hoss glanced at the house and shifted his feet. “Well, I’m going to make sure of it.” He pulled a small caliber pistol from his back pocket, threw the duffle bag in his old truck and roared off after the friendly car.

  I stood alone in the driveway with my hands in my pockets, not exactly sure what to do next. I kicked the dirt around and kept my eyes and ears focused on the country road, straining to hear the rumble of the old truck returning to the property. After thirty minutes of silence, reality sunk in and the hair rose on the back of my neck.

  Chevy’s ransom money had just been stolen.

  Chapter 8

  “Yeah, she’s still out here. I told you she’d stick around as long as that dog of hers is here.”

  I straightened, attempting to catch the words floating in the air.

  “Okay Boss, will do.”

  The young man, now wearing a camo ball cap, closed the screen door and stepped off the front porch, heading in my direction.

  “What’s your name?” I asked when he was within ten feet of me.

  “You don’t need my name.” His eyes narrowed. “Just call me, ah, let’s see… “ He looked at the beer can in his hand. “Brew.”

  I nodded. By the smell of it, he’d been staying at the house for a few days. There’s no water for showers inside foreclosed properties and it showed.

  “Where’s the money?” he asked, adjusting his ball cap and taking a sip of beer.

  “I’m sure you already know your buddy took it.” I blew out a breath to help me stay calm. “Now, please give me back my dog.”

  Brew looked up at the clear blue sky, whistled and said, “My boss says there’s only one way you’re getting out of here with your dog.”

  “You promised…” I moved toward the house and he held up his left hand, beer can and all.

  His right hand reached back and brushed against a holster on his side, before emerging with a baggie partially full of a white powder. “All you need to do is hide this one item in Deputy Don Donaldson’s house under the bathroom sink.” He dangled the bag out in front of me.

  My brows furrowed. “You want me to plant drugs and set up Don Donaldson?”

  “My boss wants you to.” He glanced back at the house as he tossed a brand new dog leash to me. “What d’ya say, you and your dog can leave right now.”

  I’d bet a hundred bucks that someone, probably The Boss, was inside the house watching his every move. I crossed my arms and cocked my head, looking straight at him. “I’m not touching any drugs, much less planting them in a sheriff deputy’s house.”

  The theft of Don’s truck gradually made sense. These guys wanted to incriminate my deputy friend in the death of Kayla Lee Candler. But why?

  Hauling her body in the back of his private vehicle surrounded by his jackets and all his gear was sure to transfer plenty of DNA to her clothes. I wouldn’t be surprised if they left a little nugget or two of false evidence along with the dead body.

  Wow. Chevy really must’ve messed up their plans when he jumped in the truck and drew attention to that little caper. And now we were paying the price.

  “I’ll letcha think about it, but don’t leave the property until you’ve made up your mind one hundred percent.” He gave me a long look and turned back toward the house. “You’ll hide this baggie at Don Donaldson’s place by tomorrow at twelve noon, or both you and the dog are history.”

  He limped back to the house, sat in a rocking chair on the front porch, placed his gun on his lap and tipped his ball cap.

  “Boss’ orders.”

  Chapter 9

  A familiar whining woke me up and after blinking my eyes and taking a moment to get my bearings, I realized I’d been dreaming of Chevy. My heart sank.

  Thanks to my basic survival skills, I put together a simple lean-to the night before, using branches, leaves, dirt, and the leash that Brew tossed at me. The night temperatures were mild, but it served as a buffer for the cool breeze. Every opening was packed up tight except for a small lookout hole to keep an eye on the house.

  Brew would have to let Chevy out for a morning potty break – hopefully without a leash - and I’d make my move to grab my dog. The last thing I remembered before dozing off was a vehicle driving out in the middle of the night.

  I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and listened for any movement from the direction of the house. Small clumps of dirt rained down from above, landing on my face and legs. I looked up and saw my dog staring down at me with a very concerned look on his face.

  My heart leapt with joy and my body followed as I jolted up, knocking my head on the roof of the unstable shelter in the process. My loyal buddy found his way to me and we were getting out of here.

  A huge weight lifted off my shoulders. “Chevy! Good boy!”

  The morning light filtered through the gap my dog made in the branches above. It looked like an opportunity had arrived for our escape. Chevy’s worried whining had gone into overdrive and it was time to use it to my – I mean, to our - advantage.

  “Come here, Chevy.” I called quietly, trying to move the branches from the roof without making too much noise.

  Chevy grew frantic, whining and leaning side-to-side like a dog afraid to jump in a swimming pool.

  “It’s okay, buddy.”

  I reached for the dog cookies in my pocket, unfolded the paper bag Miss Millie had given me and waved it near the opening, letting the scent of Chevy’s favorite treat rise up to his nose. “Good boy, it’s okay, Chevy,” I coaxed.

  His facial expression changed as the dog had a food-induced light bulb moment and dug away at the branches. It only took a few seconds for the entire shelter to collapse around me.

  Chevy rushed over and jumped on me with such elation that he knocked me on my back. He licked the side of my face and wriggled his entire body like a hyperactive worm as I gave him a gigantic bear hug.

  I thoroughly enjoyed the experience of golden fur mixed with slobber as we rolled around on the grass until the sound of choppy snorts and thunderous snoring broke the still morning air.

  An empty bottle of booze sat on the porch of the ranch house next to the man who called himself Brew. It looked like he’d drank on the job all night and the excess alcohol knocked him out like a light.

  Chevy was beside himself and let loose with a happy bark, and I clutched my dog around his golden chest and held my breath, worried the
inebriated dog-napper would wake up. The young man let out a loud snort and rolled over, allowing me to breathe again.

  I clipped the leash on Chevy next to a short piece of rope dangling from his collar, gave him another big hug and quieted him down, then made a snap decision to make a run for Don’s truck. Chevy stuck to me like a glove as we took the longer route across the driveway, so as not to leave footprints in the dew covered grass.

  Chevy jumped right in the back seat of Don’s truck and I quietly made my way to the driver’s door. I felt a wide grin break out across my face as I jumped behind the wheel. We were finally getting out of here!

  My fingers fumbled around the ignition, feeling for the keys. Nothing.

  I leaned over and checked the floorboard and under the mat. Nothing.

  Slid my hands across the seats and checked every nook and cranny on the dashboard. No keys, anywhere.

  Suddenly, the crunching of bald tires running over gravel invaded my plans as the old beat up truck rounded the corner of the driveway. I instantly hit the deck, landing face first on the passenger seat.

  As my face mashed into the seat and the chemical scent of automotive upholstery filled my nostrils, I muttered, “So close and yet so darn far.”

  Chapter 10

  My calf cramped just as I climbed over the center console, landing on something sharp in the back seat that poked my side. I stifled a yelp of pain, dropped to the floor and put an arm around Chevy’s neck, keeping his attention on me and his head hidden below the window.

  The fingers on my free hand gripped my leg muscle as I waited for the knot to subside and focused on the voices outside the partially open window.

  “Where’s the girl?” A booming voice echoed through the early morning air. Hoss was back and mad as a hornet, stomping back and forth across the gravel drive.

  “Wha…?” It sounded like Brew was just waking up with a hangover.

  I poked my head above Chevy’s, just enough to peek through the back window.

  Hoss spit out his toothpick, ripped a half empty bottle of hard liquor from the young guy’s hand and threw it across the yard. “Where’s the dog?”

  Brew stumbled to his feet and spun himself in a circle. “I had him tied right here next to me,” he said, holding up his end of a rope that was chewed in half.

  I smiled and rubbed Chevy’s head. “Good boy.” He gave me a lick on the cheek in return.

  “I’m trying to make a living here, and I’ll be doggone if I’m gonna let you mess it up.” The big man pushed the young drunk. “We better have her ready to plant that dope before Boss Man gets back.”

  A shiver climbed up my spine and I clutched my dog. We needed to get out of there, and fast.

  The hung over kid ran toward Don’s truck, tripped over his own boots and crashed to the dirt right below us. He rolled around for a minute before staggering back to his feet.

  “Where’re you going?” his aggravated partner called out.

  Brew raised a set of keys over his head and dangled them in the air “I’m taking the cop’s pickup. We can spread out and find them faster.”

  My hand gripped the door latch as he reached the truck. I held my breath and got ready to run as soon as he opened the door and discovered us.

  “You idiot - you’re still half drunk.” The big guy spat a wad of tobacco juice on the ground. “We don’t need the law stopping you for driving drunk in a stolen truck!”

  Brew spun around, his back slamming against the driver door of Don’s truck. I winced and held Chevy tight. The sickly sweet smell of booze wafted up through the open window and I adjusted my grip on the door handle. I needed to time our escape perfectly.

  “Do you want to find them or not!” The young man opened the driver door and leaned into the cab.

  My muscles tensed in anticipation, three more seconds and I’d make a break for it - as soon as his butt landed on the seat. I knew if I left the door open behind me, Chevy would instinctively follow behind.

  “Stay down low.” I heard a rough whisper followed by a blast of alcohol breath as the young man climbed into the truck. “I’m friends with Don.”

  I shook my head to clear the cobwebs, wondering if I was hearing things.

  Young Brew bounced in his seat, raised his arm out the window with energy, and pumped his fist. “Let’s find this idiot and her dog! Woo hoo!”

  “You’re the idiot,” the older man huffed. “I’m gonna’ knock you out when we get this taken care of.”

  Brew slammed his hand on the truck horn, sending out a long monotone blast and turned toward the back seat. “Hold on real tight.” He reached forward, turned the radio up, and stomped his big boot on the gas so hard that the big truck’s tires spun, fishtailing out of the gravel drive.

  As he reached the end of the driveway, his arm swung over the seat behind him and pointed to the floor, giving me a signal to stay low as he slammed on the brakes. Chevy and I were jolted forward as dust flew up all around the full sized pickup.

  Boy, Don would croak if he knew how this guy was treating his beloved truck. The injured deputy was probably already flying hot since I still hadn’t been able to send help to our crash site. I hoped he was okay.

  The rusty green truck jerked up next to us and I hunched against Chevy as he gave me a quick lick on the cheek.

  Over the loud rumble of the old truck, Hoss bellowed. “You go right and I’ll go left. They can’t be too far.”

  The trucks peeled out, heading in opposite directions down the old country road.

  Chapter 11

  “How did you know we were hiding in here?”

  “Your footprints are all over the dirt next to the truck.” Brew chuckled. “Any country boy worth his beans could see that.”

  My face flushed. As a member of the search and rescue team who’d followed the tracks of dozens of lost people, I should’ve known better.

  “I’ve followed animal tracks since I was knee high to a cricket.” Brew reached for a day old bottle of cola from the cup holder and lifted it to his lips. “Why do you think I rolled all over the ground a minute ago? I erased your footprints.”

  His words now flowed smoothly and he sounded clear-headed. “You’re really not half-drunk, are you?” I asked.

  “Course not.” He tapped his thumbs on the steering wheel in beat to the country song playing on the radio. “I dumped most of the liquor on my shirt to get a good smell going.” He turned down the volume on the radio. “I needed a cover story for letting your dog escape.”

  “Well, you were over-acting.”

  “Fooled you, didn’t I?” He laughed.

  Who knew - maybe he really was a friend of Don’s.

  “Can you drive out to an area where I can get a phone signal?” I sat on the edge of the back seat and kept Chevy on the floor between my legs. “I ran off the road yesterday - Deputy Don is probably still out there and he needs medical help.”

  “You left Don out in the woods?” Brew shook his head. “Oh boy.”

  “I didn’t want you guys to hurt my dog.” I huffed in self-defense. “Remember your infamous time demands?”

  “Hey, you’re lucky I was there.” He twisted in his seat, looking back at me. “Your dog really ticked off The Boss when he jumped in the truck like he did.” He chuckled and turned back around. “That dog jumped in The Boss’ lap and got mud prints all over his new pants.”

  Chevy pushed his head over Brew’s shoulder and looked out the front window as the truck sped down the road.

  Brew glanced at me in the rear-view mirror. “I played both sides of the fence until they wanted to hurt the dog, ‘cause I’m not having that. I’m an animal lover, you know.” He shook his head and grimaced. “Right then, in that very moment, I broke all loyalty to The Boss.”

  “That’s why you let us get away?”

  “I saved your dog’s life.” He scratched the top of Chevy’s head and bounced to the music. “The Boss knew you recognized this truck, so I told him we c
ould keep you quiet by getting you involved in the crime.”

  I shuddered at the thought of what might have happened. “Um, thanks.”

  Brew’s chest puffed out. “Hoss and I decided to go into business on our own and hold the dog ransom for the start-up money.” He smiled as he made a left turn and checked for cars behind him.

  “Yeah, about that…” I tapped the back of his headrest. “How ‘bout you give me my five thousand dollars back?”

  “Can’t.” He shook his head. “Hoss already invested it.” Brew took another gulp of warm soda. “And by next week, I’ll have more than enough money to take care of my granny.”

  Just like that. Five grand down the drain and my truck totaled. Boy, Chevy’s mischief really got us into a world of hurt this time. I frowned and moved my hand through the golden fur on his back.

  My dog licked my hand before laying across my lap and dozing off, totally at ease and without a care in the world. As I watched his chest rise and fall with each sleepy breath, I realized our situation wasn’t due to Chevy’s mischief at all – he was just being his friendly self. There’s no crime in that.

  The crime wasn’t with my dog, it was with people who thought wrong and did wrong.

  I felt myself smile and whispered. “Don’t worry, Chevy. You’re worth every penny.”

  “So, where is he?” Brew swiped a hand through his blond hair.

  “Who?”

  “Deputy Don.”

  “Oh.” I wasn’t sure I should trust the kid but went with my gut feeling. “Take a left down Corner Chapel Road.”

  A couple minutes later the truck arrived at the crash site and the three of us scrambled down the embankment to check on Don. Chevy easily reached his injured friend first and placed a paw on Don’s arm. My dog could always tell when someone needed a little moral support.

  Don scratched Chevy’s head and groaned in pain. “Was that my truck I just heard up there?”

  I nodded.

  He narrowed his eyes and focused on Brew, “So, did she give you my truck or did you take it from her?”