Hounding the Pavement

by MCCOY, JUDI

  “Trust me when I say this, Eugene, but I definitely don’t ‘wannabe’ you.”

  “Yeah, well I heard about that Blackberg woman, but when I stopped by, she said I was too late. It’s like I told you last night. The buildings on this block are mine and Bibi’s. Find your own space, and stop poaching our clients.”

  Ellie stepped out of the flow of pedestrian traffic, but the creep stuck to her like dog doo to a shoe. Aside from last night, she’d had little interaction with him since the morning he’d been fired by the professor, and thanks to Eugene, each of their meetings had been awkward. Seeing as he and Bibi were the area’s dog-walking royalty, it was inevitable she’d run into him more often as her customer base grew.

  “Last I heard, it’s a free country. I can’t help it if some dogs and their owners like me better than you.”

  “What’sa matter? Too scared to go out and find your own customers?”

  “I simply give interested pet owners my qualifications and let them make up their own minds, and it’s not my fault that a couple of the doormen like me. I have a private source for referrals, and I use it, just like you do. I got to Hazel first, and her dog took to me right away.”

  “Maybe so, but it might not last. Especially when people know you might have taken the professor’s dog.”

  Ellie blinked her surprise. “Why would they think such a ridiculous thing?”

  “Let’s just say that rumors are rampant.” He dropped his cigarette to the cement and stomped it with the heel of his worn sneaker. Raising his gaze, he sneered. “You find out anything more about the mutt?”

  “No.” She ground her molars, sick to death of people referring to the champion bichon as a mutt. And who, she wondered, would start such a vindictive rumor about her? Since Eugene was still bitter over being replaced, would he be evil enough to take the professor’s life? She’d thought him nasty and stupid. Was he really cunning and clever and vindictive enough to do Professor Albright harm?

  “You sure you don’t know anything about the professor?”

  He gave a sly smile, showing nicotine-stained teeth. “Too bad you lost the dog right after you stole him from me,” he said, ignoring her question.

  “I didn’t steal that dog from you, and you know it.” She leaned against the the building. “How about Bibi? Have you talked about Buddy with her?”

  He lit another Camel and took a long drag. “That’s none of your business. By the way, I got a call from a Detective Ryder. Said he wanted to ask me a couple of questions. Know anything about that?”

  “Of course not.” Though she wished the detective would clamp on to Eugene or Bibi instead of her.

  “How come I think you’re lying?”

  “I don’t know, Eugene. How come?”

  He shook his head. “Stay out of my way, Engleman. That’s all I got to say.” With that, he sauntered around the corner to, she imagined, his next group of clients.

  “I could still bite him for you,” Rudy offered. “Just a nip on the ankle. Might lay him up for a couple of days so you could get a few more of his customers.”

  “Don’t you dare. I don’t have liability—” Oh, crap, she’d forgotten about the paperwork for insurance and permits. If the police found out she’d stretched the truth, she’d never get Ryder off her back. She searched her bag, happy to see her cell phone still had a slight charge. “Come on, we’ve got to get Buckley and Sweetie Pie. Then I have to make a call.”

  Ellie met Hazel Blackberg at her door when she returned Buckley to his apartment.

  “How was my lamb chop today? Did he play nice with the others?” Hazel scooped the pup into her arms. “Has Snooky-wookums missed his mommy?” she asked, cuddling the Maltipoo against her tremendous bosom.

  “ ‘Snooky-wookums’!” snarked Rudy. “Is she for real?”

  Buckley’s low growl, directed, Ellie was certain, at Rudy, made her smile. “He was great. Did his business on schedule, and got along with everyone like a perfect gentleman.”

  “That’s good to know. Now I have a question for you. Do you have time to come inside?”

  Ellie checked her watch. With only three minutes left to phone the insurance company, it probably would be better if she tried tomorrow. She stepped across the threshold. “Sure. What do you need?”

  “A veterinarian.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Buckley needs a physician.”

  “He does? Why?”

  “In case of an emergency, of course. I never know when he might get a tummy ache or be off his food. If that happens, I’ll want to reach someone competent immediately. Someone who makes house calls, in case it’s nighttime or too cold to take him out of the house.”

  “Oh, then you want Dr. Dave,” Ellie told her. David Crane was young, attractive, and vet to many of the pampered pets that lived on the Upper East Side. From what she’d heard, he made house calls, boarded special clients, even groomed them or stopped in to administer medication if the need arose. She’d met him twice in the past month, introduced herself, and talked over what she could and couldn’t do for her clients. She had hoped he’d send a referral or two her way, but so far, she hadn’t heard a word.

  “I’m so happy his is the name you mention,” Hazel said with a toothy smile. “I’ve asked some of the other tenants and they use him, too.”

  Ellie opened her Day Planner and flipped to the Cs. “I have his number right here. Do you want me to phone him?”

  “Oh, you’re such a dear. Please, and maybe you could be here when he visits? Just to make sure I keep things straight. Our last vet refused to make house calls, and I’d feel so much better if I knew for certain this city air hadn’t aggravated my boy’s allergies or worse.”

  “Buckley’s allergic?”

  “I don’t know, but you got me to thinking when you mentioned the cigarette smoke. I’ve managed to cut back,” she whispered. “Just in case.”

  “Yeah, thanks for that,” Buckley said, breaking into the conversation. “I was so busy takin’ care of business today, I forgot to mention it.”

  Ellie winked at the dog as she spoke to Hazel. “Good for you. I’m sure it’s the best thing for both of you. When do you want Dr. Crane here?”

  “Sometime after six p.m. tomorrow? I’ll pay for your time, of course.”

  “It’s nice of you to offer, but—”

  “No, no. I insist. Money is no object where my Snooky-wookums is concerned.”

  “Okay, hang on a second, and I’ll make the call. That way, you can listen in and make suggestions if he isn’t able to come when it’s convenient.”

  She used Hazel’s kitchen phone and left a message when she got the answering machine. “I’m sure he’ll get back to me with a time. Then I’ll phone you. How does that sound?”

  “Perfect, and thank you so much.”

  Ellie waved good-bye and led Rudy into the hall. “Not a word,” she said to him as they descended in the elevator. “Or I’ll pop a button laughing.”

  “Can you beat that dame?” Rudy asked, ignoring her. “No wonder Buck is such a crab ass.”

  “Oh, I don’t know. Her pet name for him is sort of cute. How about if I called you Rudykins or Snuggle puss or—”

  “Hold it right there. I have limits to the amount of humiliation I’m willing to suffer to be your devoted companion.”

  “Limits? What kind of limits?”

  “Georgette for one. She pretends I don’t exist, or haven’t you noticed?”

  “Mother is distracted right now. The man she’s dating needs special attention.”

  “The judge has my sympathy, but let’s not forget that detective guy.”

  “Please don’t start the testosterone thing again.”

  “Why not? It’s true. He can’t wait for me to be out of the way so he can get into your pants.”

  “Shut up,” Ellie said as the elevator car doors opened onto a half dozen residents waiting to go home. “Hi, nice night,” she muttered, hoping to cover
her impolite remark.

  Kronk spotted her from behind his desk and dropped down, then rushed to her side with a small pet carrier in his arms. “Look what I find,” he boomed, thrusting the plastic box toward her. “Is lee-til white dog.”

  “Oh my gosh! Buddy? You found Buddy?” She brought the carrier to the counter and popped the latch. When a toy poodle hopped out, she jumped back. “Where did you get this dog?”

  “I find on street. Is Buddy, no?”

  “ ‘No’ is right. This is a poodle, and he has a collar. See?” She raised the red heart-shaped piece of metal and squinted at the tiny print. “His name is Henry, and he lives with the Huntingtons a couple of doors down. How he got away, I don’t know, but Henry is not Buddy.”

  “You are sure?” Kronk asked, his face a mask of innocence.

  “More than sure.” Reaching across the counter, she picked up the phone and dialed the number on the tag. Seconds later a man answered, and she gave him the good news. “That’s right. He’s at the Davenport. No, no, don’t thank me. Thank the doorman, Mr. Kronkovitz. Yes, I’ll leave him with Kronk . . . A reward? That won’t be necessary. He was happy to do it.”

  Looking pissed, Kronk drummed his fingers on the counter.

  “Yes, I’m positive,” she reiterated, meeting the doorman’s flinty glare with one of her own. She set the phone in its cradle, then scooted the poodle back into the carrier, but not before Henry licked her fingers in gratitude. “I took the liberty of refusing the reward in your stead. I have no idea how you got hold of Henry but do not do it again. And stop trying to fool me, because it’s tacky and it’s rude.”

  “Ah, El-ee,” Kronk moaned.

  She led her pup to the door, and Rudy snarled out his own parting shot, “Yeah, turd ball. What she said.”

  Chapter 6

  Ellie hurried to her appointments at the Beaumont while pondering a way to take Kronk down a peg without getting on the wrong side of every doorman in a six-block radius. How had he gotten hold of that sweet toy poodle? He had nerve, trying to pass the dog off as Buddy. How stupid did he think she was?

  After introducing herself to the Beaumont’s evening doorman, she asked if he’d seen Buddy or heard of anyone finding a small white dog. When he said no, she gave him a flyer to post and requested he announce her to the Birch family. Unfortunately, her discussion with them proved to be a dead end because the Birches’ dalmatian, though friendly, didn’t fit her small-dog policy.

  The Best family, who lived in the same building, owned a yappy Pomeranian. Bruiser was the right size, but had a disagreeable temperament and showed no interest when Ellie tried to make a mental connection. Since business was business, she agreed to escort the dog on a morning outing for the next week to see if they fit. After that, she and the Bests would reevaluate the relationship and make a final decision on continuing the project.

  Now at home, she decided to lend Viv a hand and take Twink for a short walk. Using her key, she opened her best friend’s apartment door and called the dog’s name, to no avail.

  “Where is he?” she muttered, more to herself than Rudy as she stepped into the foyer. “Twink! Twink? Come on, we’re going out.”

  She heard voices coming from the living room and tiptoed down the hall, then peered around the corner. Twink, intently eyeing the television screen, was watching a program on the TV Land channel.

  “Hey, mister. When did you learn how to turn on the television set?”

  Twink kept his gaze on the screen.

  She stomped in and stood behind him, noisily tapping her toe. “Twink?”

  “Uh, Ellie?”

  “Twink? Are you listening to me?”

  “He’s not gonna answer until you call him Mr. T, Triple E. I thought I told you that already.”

  She shot Rudy a look. “Come again?”

  “It’s me talkin’ to you, sucka. So you’d better listen.”

  Ellie focused on the gaudily bedecked African-American glaring from the screen.

  “Time to go, fool.”

  She rolled her eyes. Well, great. Now she knew for certain where Twink got his creative vocabulary . . . and his sassy attitude.

  “Okay, okay. I got it.” Sighing, she snapped his leash to his collar. “Come on, Mr. T. Time for a quick walk.”

  Instead of answering, Twink hopped to the control box sitting on the shelf below the television and nosed a button. The TV winked out, and he turned, tilting his head as he stared at her. “Don’t just stand there, fool. Let’s go.”

  Fifteen minutes later, Ellie returned the Jack Russell, collected her mail, and climbed the stairs. Once inside her apartment, she dumped the paltry postal offerings, unhooked her pal’s lead, and headed for the kibble cupboard. It was obvious from Rudy’s circling happy dance that he had supper on the brain. Still in her coat, she pulled out the extra hot dog from lunch, chopped it into small chunks, and added it to his dish. When she set the meal on the floor, he launched a full-face attack.

  After hanging her outerwear, she dropped into a kitchen chair. With luck, she could change, eat dinner, read about the professor’s death online, and tumble into bed by ten o’clock. Her cell phone rang, and she fished it out of her bag without checking caller ID. At this hour, it was probably her mother or Viv. “Hello.”

  “Is this Ellie Engleman?” The male voice was refined and polite, definitely not a woman.

  “This is she.”

  “It’s David Crane. Sorry I didn’t get back to you sooner. Had to spend the afternoon with a sick cat. Your name is familiar. Have we met?”

  A vivid picture of the veterinarian popped into her mind. On the short side, Dr. Dave had thinning wavy brown hair, hazel eyes, broad shoulders, and a flat stomach. His world-class butt made up for the male-pattern baldness, and she didn’t mind staring him in the eye when they talked because she was positive he loved dogs.

  “Twice. The first time was in your office, when I brought in my terrier-poodle mix. I’d just rescued him from the shelter—”

  “Smallish, gray and white? He’s not sick, is he?”

  Wow. What a memory. “That’s right, and Rudy’s fine. I planned to call you after I had him a year to see if he needed vaccination updates. You and I met again three weeks ago, in the elevator at the Davenport.”

  A moment passed before he said, “I remember now. You’re the new dog walker.”

  “That’s me.”

  “Professor Albright was a customer of yours. It’s a shame what happened to him.” He hesitated. “Does this call have something to do with Buddy?”

  “No. But now that you ask, it might. Buddy is missing, and I’m worried about him.”

  “Missing?”

  “As in vanished without a trace.” She almost slapped herself for not thinking of it sooner. “You must know all the animal gossip in the area. Any chance you’ve heard about someone getting a new bichon?”

  “Are you saying the police think he ran away, and whoever found him is keeping him?”

  “The police don’t give a rat’s, . . . er, . . . a plug nickel about Buddy. They’ve given me permission to search for him, but that’s about it.”

  “He’s a great dog, tops in his breed. There’s no telling how much he’s worth or—” He sighed. “What do you think happened to him?”

  Beep! Beep! Beep!

  Damn, she’d forgotten about her dwindling cell battery. “I’m not sure,” she rushed. “All I know is he’s disappeared, and the cops don’t much care what happened to him.”

  “Keep me posted. I’d hate for any of my patients to be in trouble.” He cleared his throat. “What did you need me for?”

  Hoping to hook her phone to the charger, she jumped from her chair. “I have a customer in the Davenport. She wants a vet who makes house calls, and she’s available early tomorrow morning or at six. You were the first vet I thought to ask.”

  “Thanks, but I’m not sure I can take another dog. My patient load is pretty full right now.”

 
; Searching the counter, she cursed mentally when she didn’t find the charger. Where in the heck had she used it last?

  Beep! Beep! Beep!

  Frustrated, she spoke as quickly as she could. “Buckley’s a Maltese-poodle mix, six, seven pounds, and he’s healthy,” she blathered, positive she sounded like a chipmunk on speed.

  Dr. Dave laughed. “If you know anything about my practice, you’d know my four-legged clients aren’t the problem.”

  “I don’t think Ms. Blackberg will be too big a pain. She’s in unit three-G.”

  She heard him flipping pages across the wire. “Hmm. Tomorrow morning’s out, but I can do six o’clock. I’ll stop by and take a look, though I’m not promising anything.”

  Beep! Beep! Beep!

  “Great. I plan to be there, and I’ll make a promise, too. I won’t stick my nose where it isn’t wanted.”

  “Not a problem, and I—”

  Beep! Beep! Beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep!

  Glaring at the dead phone, Ellie heaved a breath. Then she walked into her bedroom, found the charger on her nightstand, and hooked up her cell. With any luck Dr. Dave would understand the abrupt disconnect was a mechanical failure.

  Rudy ambled in and jumped next to her on the bed. Stroking his head, she met his brown-eyed gaze. “Yes?”

  “He sounded okay.”

  “You heard him while we were talking?”

  “How many times do I have to tell you, besides the superior nose, we have ‘superior hearing.’ And I’ll let you know about his ‘big bang’ quotient after I check him out.”

  She rolled her eyes. “He’s your vet, you dope. You’ve already met him—twice.”

  “Yeah, but that was right after you sprung me from the big house. And I didn’t pay attention in the elevator. Too many smells to check out on that visit.”

  “Just remember, my love life is none of your business. The important thing is Dr. Dave’s ability to give me referrals. I have no intention of checking out the ‘big bang’ theory with any man, and I’d appreciate it if you’d stop mentioning it.”

  Rudy hopped off the bed and trotted toward the door. “If you say so.”