by MCCOY, JUDI
“And you’ll phone me if you get more information from your vet friend or hear gossip on the street, right? No more surprise leads?”
“Not if I can help it.”
“Then I’m out of here.”
She followed him into the foyer, and he stopped to face her. He’d had a good morning, he decided. Thanks to the “bad penny,” it had been interesting, relaxed, upbeat. And personal enough to give her another lip lock.
Stepping toward her, he heard a growl and glanced down. Her dog stared at him through narrowed eyes, giving him a nasty scowl that was downright human.
“Stop that,” Ellie ordered.
The mutt plopped his butt on the floor, his focus locked on his target.
“Thanks for the magazine and the company,” Sam said, his back to the door.
“Thanks for lunch.”
When he reached out and touched her cheek, she blushed but didn’t pull away. “It was my pleasure.”
“Discounting the Marino visit, I had a nice time.”
“Me, too, but I’m still going to hunt for Buddy.”
“I figured as much. Knock yourself out.”
That seemed to put a damper on the moment. “I plan to.”
She stepped back, and he walked out the door. Just before he took the stairs, he turned, but she’d already gone inside.
“That was some trick you pulled, bringing home the demonic detective,” Rudy groused when they hit the sidewalk a short while later.
“I didn’t plan on meeting him, honest. He showed up at the Marinos’, and I had to tell him about the magazine.” They hit Fifth and headed for Central Park.
“Bet that really ticked him off, huh?”
“Yeah, but he got over it. Mind if I stop at Joe to Go for a hot coffee?”
“Not if I can come inside.”
“This Joe’s has outside tables. It’s the best I can do.” Rudy’s lack of comment told her he was miffed, so she forged ahead, hoping to mend his wounded feelings. “I know you understand about the health laws.”
“I know about ’em, but I don’t get it. The public acts as if we canines carry the plague.”
“There are hundreds of outside eateries in Manhattan, and you’re allowed at all of them. It’s just the inside part they don’t approve of. Too bad we don’t live in France.”
Rudy snorted. “Yeah, those people know how to treat their canines right. I hear some of them even serve special menus for their doggie customers.”
“Maybe sometime we can go there, and check it out,” she offered. “Would you like that?”
“Only if you bring me on board in first-class so there’s room for a good-sized carryall under the front seat.”
“Okay, then,” she answered. “It’s a deal.”
After a minute, they reached the coffee bar, and she tied Rudy to a table leg, then stooped to his level. “Behave, all right. I’ll only be gone a few minutes.”
“You could sneak me in. Joe wouldn’t care.”
“I could, but he might not be at this store. The weather’s beautiful, and I’ll be quick, I promise. And look on the bright side. Maybe Lulu will be at the park. Even better, maybe her owner will hire us to walk her every day.”
“I wish.”
Ellie slipped inside, checked for Joe, and placed her order for a caramel bliss. While waiting, she kept an eye on her pal, smiling when several passersby stopped to give him a kind word and a pat on the head. Manhattanites really did love their dogs, which was good for her pocketbook.
She carried her drink outside, untied his lead, and fifteen minutes later, reached their destination. Escorting Rudy to the dog run, she took him off lead and settled on a bench while he bounded away to say hello to a few of the dogs he’d met on other play days.
“Hey, Ellie.”
She spotted the enormous pair of red high-tops before she made eye contact with the owner of the voice. “Gary, hi. What are you doing here?”
“I told you, I like dogs.” He nodded toward her coffee. “You gonna drink all that by yourself?”
She’d planned on it, but couldn’t when she spotted his big brown eyes and gaunt expression. “Do you have a cup handy?”
He dug into the pocket of his grimy threadbare overcoat and pulled out a much-used paper cup. “Sure do. I got it this morning. Only had a little soda in it. I rinsed it out at a fountain.” He handed her the container. “See.”
“Uh, thanks.” She poured half her coffee in the cup and passed it back to him.
“Where’s Rudy?” he asked as he sat beside her on the bench.
“Over there.” She pointed to where her Yorkiepoo and a black cocker spaniel were roughhousing. “He’s played with that dog before.”
“Ain’t you afraid he’ll get hurt?”
“Not my boy. He can take care of himself.”
Gary heaved a sigh. “I wish I owned a dog that talked to me. That way, I wouldn’t be so lonely.”
Ellie swallowed her coffee before she choked out, “Talked to you?”
“Yeah, like Rudy does to you.”
“Dogs don’t talk to people,” she told him. “I only pretend with Rudy.”
“I wish he’d say something to me sometime. I’d answer him, and we’d be good friends.”
“Uh, how do you know Rudy and I talk . . . er . . . do that kind of thing?”
“I can tell. I see the way he looks at you and you look at him. It makes me feel all warm inside.”
A nice sentiment, she thought, but not one everybody would share. “How do you know so much about things?”
“I just do. People think I’m invisible, so I see things regular people don’t. Sometimes, I wish I didn’t.”
“What kind of things?” asked Ellie, watching Rudy fetch a ball for a small boy.
“All kinds of stuff. Some of it’s bad.”
“Bad? How bad?
He shook his head. “You don’t wanna know.”
“Are you all right?” She could only imagine the hardships he’d suffered that had brought him to this kind of life. “I’d be happy to buy you lunch, if you’re hungry.”
“Not today. The chef at that restaurant on Broadway met me at the back door and let me have an almost-new turkey sandwich.” He scratched his belly. “It was good.”
A man and woman walking by gave their bench a wide berth and a disdainful glare, which she ignored. “Gary, has someone tried to hurt you?”
“Me? Nuh-uh. It’s just that—” Rudy trotted over and nosed Gary’s fingers. “Hey, fella. How you doin’ today?”
The dog inched toward Ellie. “He don’t look too good.”
“You sure you’re feeling all right, Gary?”
The homeless man’s face lighted with a smile. “Is Rudy worried about me? Ask him if he’ll say something to me, okay?”
Ellie sighed. It figured the one person who’d key in on her relationship with her dog would be a man most people thought of as a mentally unhinged derelict. And what did that say about her own ability to communicate with canines?
“Is he for real?”
“Be nice.” She ruffled Rudy’s ears, caught the anticipation in Gary’s expression, and said, “Is there anyway you can speak to him, reach him somehow?”
“You’re not serious.”
“I wouldn’t ask if I wasn’t.”
“What’s he sayin’?” asked Gary.
She raised an eyebrow in Rudy’s direction.
He yawned, then gave a doggie sigh. “I don’t know, Triple E. You and me, we got a special bond. One I don’t want to share with strangers.”
“Just try, okay?”
The dog closed his eyes, and Ellie smiled. The D used to walk a circle around anyone who seemed down on their luck or not of sound mind. The accepting attitude of her canine companion gave her reason to be proud.
“Hey, Gary, can we go see where you live today?”
Gary’s eyes widened. Grinning like a clown, he rose to his feet. “I heard him, Ellie. Rudy wants to
visit my house. Tell him yes.” He started to walk away, then turned and hurried back, his huge sneakers slapping merrily on the sidewalk. “Come on, come on. I got new curtains. You gotta see ’em. Come on.”
She gazed at Rudy. “I’m sorry I asked you to do that. We may never find our way out of the park.”
“Sure we will,” he answered, dancing in place. “I got the nose, remember?”
She stood and dropped her coffee cup in the trash. “I sure hope so.”
“Come on, Ellie, hurry up.”
She shrugged as she hooked Rudy to his lead. Maybe Viv was right. She really did need a hobby . . . or a life. If her mother or her best friend found out what she was about to do, they’d have her committed.
Chapter 16
“You did what?” Vivian leaned back in the kitchen chair, her disapproval clear. “Are you insane?”
Ellie winced. “I’ve already asked myself that question a couple dozen times.” She’d told Viv about her stop at Gary’s hole-in-the-woods residence, and now realized the visit might not have been the most prudent thing to do. “Nothing happened, so stop yelling. You’re giving me a headache.”
Gary’s home, a soggy grouping of cardboard boxes hidden in the bowels of Central Park, had been an eye-opener. The secondhand curtains he was so proud of hung in the square sections he’d cut for windows. He’d lined the damp floor with more cardboard and added stained and mismatched sections of carpet, while wooden crates and shoe boxes filled with who knew what doubled as chairs and shelves. A set of battered TV trays mimicked tables, and, situated in a back corner, a mattress swathed in mildew-covered drapes substituted for a bed.
“The man probably has fleas or lice or both. Anything could have happened to you out there, alone with him. You know the park is a drug dealer’s vacation spot. You’re lucky you weren’t mugged, stabbed . . . killed. People go in, but they don’t come out.”
“Stop exaggerating.” Ellie held her fingers to her temples and stared at the shriveled peas, dry turkey, rock-hard stuffing, and cementlike cranberry surprise she’d nuked for dinner. Why hadn’t she listened to her stomach and stopped at her favorite Chinese restaurant for takeout on her trip home? “I know my way around.”
“Hah! You’re the easiest mark in this city. I’ve seen you give bums your entire lunch. Come Christmas, you pass out dollar bills like candy canes.”
“I gave away the D’s cash, not mine, and now that things are tight, I’ve stopped being so generous.”
“Wait. Let me guess. Instead of money, you invited this Gary person here for a meal.”
Ellie walked to the trash can and dumped her dinner. Her heart ached at the memory of the meager rations that made up Gary’s food supply. His cooking apparatus—a dented pot, a couple of chipped ceramic mugs, and a can of sterno under a homemade metal tripod—looked as if they hadn’t been used in weeks. But when she’d invited him back to her place for real nourishment, he’d declined, and no amount of coaxing, by either her or Rudy, had convinced him to change his mind.
“The man’s harmless, just down and out. You gave me a helping hand when I ran short of funds after the divorce. I simply want to do what they suggested in that movie—the one with Kevin Spacey and the kid from the Sixth Sense—pay it forward.”
“Nice idea, but the film was a flop, and you know why?” Viv inhaled, not waiting for an answer. “Because it’s a dumb idea. People have to take control of their own lives. Gary’s an adult. I agree a handout now and then is okay, but an open-door invitation is not.”
“I have more than I need, so why can’t I share?”
Viv rolled her eyes. “For God’s sake, Ellie, think about what you’ve been doing. You’re treating this homeless guy the same way you’ve been handling that missing dog: taking on a crusade it’s impossible to win. If Gary doesn’t want help, you can’t make him take it. If the police can’t find Buddy, he won’t be found. And it’s not your job to catch the professor’s killer. You cannot save the world.”
The day’s exploits had worn Ellie out. She wanted nothing more than a warm bed, as did the canine dozing at her feet. Unfortunately, she’d opened her door to Vivian, in the throes of a meltdown, ranting about the man who’d stood her up. When Viv heard how Ellie had spent most of her afternoon, she’d redirected the tirade to Gary and added a host of opinions on the rest of Ellie’s life.
“Good Lord, you’re grumpy. Don’t take it out on me because your date didn’t show.”
Viv propped an elbow on the table and rested her chin in her hand. “I know, and I apologize. Men. Just when I think maybe a couple are worth the effort, one comes along and slaps me upside the head for no good reason.”
“Where’s Jason this weekend?”
“Beats me.” She began shredding a paper napkin, a sure sign things were not going well with that relationship, either. “To tell you the truth, I think it’s over.”
“Oh, no. He seemed like an okay guy. What happened?”
She shrugged. “Remember the open-door policy I said we had? Well, someone else walked through the door and locked me out. And get this: She’s his secretary.”
“You mean you know her?”
“We’ve met, but I never thought he’d be attracted to a mousy little thing like Ashley. The woman wears polyester, for God’s sake.” Viv smoothed her violet cashmere sweater. “Tacky and tasteless at the same time.”
“Maybe she has a great personality?” Ellie flinched internally at her words, the standard designation for a second-rate date. “She could be sweet or a good listener.”
“Who are you, Little Mary Sunshine?” Viv shoved the pile of tattered napkin to the middle of the table. “You’re supposed to take my side, not make excuses for the woman.”
“Sorry. But I’ve heard some men are drawn to mousy. Having a woman to take care of makes them feel important. You’re strong and independent. You need someone who admires your pluses.”
“You think so?”
“Sure. Although nice works, too.”
“I’ve tried being nice, and all it’s ever gotten me is a kick in the head. Now I’m a bitch, and trust me, it’s a lot more fun. Or at least it was.”
Ellie went to the freezer and pulled out her own generic prescription for depression, a container of Häagen-Dazs Caramel Cone. Opening Viv’s leftover ice cream, she set it and a spoon on the table. “Here, drown your sorrows.” She took a seat. “It’s the only thing I have for consolation.”
“So,” said Viv, after sucking down a couple of spoonfuls, “besides tromping into the park and putting your life on the line, what else did you do today?”
A vision of Ryder’s sexy smile and smoldering eyes appeared in her mind. “Promise not to get upset, and I’ll tell you.”
“I promise. Now spill.”
“I went on a fishing expedition. I’m getting closer to locating Buddy. I can feel it in my bones.”
“Didn’t that detective tell you to stay out of his investigation?” Viv asked, her tone even and calm.
“He did, but I ran into him today, and he actually let me tag along while he looked into a lead.” She filled Viv in on her trip to the Marinos’ and the pet store, but left out the part about lunch and the time Sam spent in her apartment. “He’s running a check on the subscription holders. There’s a chance one of them might be the killer.”
Viv arched a brow. “Did anything else happen I should know about?”
“Hardly. I’m certain once this case is solved I’ll never see him again.”
“Too bad. He’s a good-looking guy. Just what you need to jump-start your return to the dating pool.”
Sam was a jump start, all right. He’d shocked her by showing up at the Marinos’, bossed her like a drill sergeant, then followed her around as if he cared. But of course he cared, she reminded herself. It was his business to care. She had a lead on the professor’s killer. The fact that he’d bought her lunch, let her accompany him to the PetCo, and allowed her to do a little supervised sn
ooping didn’t mean much.
“I can find my own men, thank you,” Ellie intoned.
“I still have a rain check working with the lawyer and his stockbroker buddy. All I have to do is call.”
“Maybe next week.” Or next year. “Did I tell you about Georgette? She accepted Stanley’s proposal.”
“Good for the ex-terminator. When’s the big day?”
“She’s talking about a June wedding. Can you believe she’s been married five times and never been a June bride?”
“Maybe that’s her goal. She’ll take a walk down the aisle once in every month, then make her own wedding calendar. She can call it ‘a year of alimony in review.’ ”
Ellie frowned. If Georgette knew what some people thought of her husband history, she’d have a hissy fit. “I don’t think the money is what she’s after, really.”
“I know. She’s looking for someone like your father, but what are the chances she’ll find another handsome, burly man with a heart of gold and a weakness for debutantes, especially the aging ones who refuse to admit it?” Viv capped her container and pushed from the table. “I’m ready for bed. How about you and Rudy take one last walk with me and Twink?”
There was no point in defending her mother, when Viv’s comments were so close to the mark. “Fine. I’ll get my sneakers and meet you downstairs.”
Ellie returned the ice cream to the freezer, then sat and slipped into her shoes. After tugging on her denim jacket, she put a hand in her pocket and found the business card she’d given Mrs. Steinman. Turning it over, she read the woman’s address. At least one good thing happened today. She’d met Mrs. Steinman walking Lulu on her way home from Gary’s, and Mrs. Steinman told her the Best family was thrilled with the way she handled Bruiser. Based on that, and Natter’s recommendation, she wanted Ellie to begin walking her baby on Monday morning.
While Rudy and the Havanese romped, they came to an agreement on price and Mrs. Steinman wrote her a check. That officially brought her canine count to six. Tomorrow, she’d stop in the same building to see the women who’d moved into the penthouse. If that worked out, she’d be firmly ensconced in the high-rise. Natter would receive more cards on Monday morning, along with a thank-you coffee for his kind words and referrals.