New Man in Town

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New Man in Town Page 16

by Edward Kendrick


  Wylie approached it, tentatively reached out one hand as he said, “Easy there, we’re not going to hurt you.” He glanced up at Garry. “Someone deserted him. The leash is tied to the bush.”

  “Who would do that?” Garry replied angrily as he worked to undo the knot while Ziggy danced around him.

  “A bastard,” Wylie replied. He knelt, stroking the puppy’s head. “You’re safe, now.”

  The puppy looked up at him, still whimpering, and then licked his hand.

  “We should take it to the pound,” Garry said, crouching next to Wylie. “There’s no tags on the collar but maybe it’s been chipped.”

  “Even if it has been, there’s no way I’m going to let them call its owner so the bastard can desert it again somewhere else.” Wylie picked the puppy up. “Him. It’s male.”

  “They probably won’t call the owner even if he is chipped. Not after we tell them how we found him. They will check him out to make sure he’s not sick or injured. Then he’ll be put up for adoption.”

  By then, the puppy had curled up in Wylie’s arms, its whimpers abating as it gazed up at him. “No they won’t, because I’m keeping him,” Wylie replied impulsively.

  Garry snorted as he hitched Ziggy’s leash to his collar. “Why did I think you’d say that?”

  Wylie shrugged. “Because?” He bent to pat Ziggy’s head. “You done good.”

  “Ziggy Parish, finder of lost things.” Garry laughed as they started back toward town. “I should be so lucky. Most of the stuff I can’t find he’s taken and hidden somewhere.”

  “Don’t you do that, umm…Okay, I need to find you a name.”

  Wylie and Garry debated names until they reached Garry’s house, at which point he suggested he could drive Wylie and his new companion to the pound.

  “Nope,” Wylie replied. “To the vet. There is one in town, I hope.”

  “Two. I take Ziggy to Doc Rawlins.”

  “Then that’s where we’re going.”

  “Yes, boss,” Garry said, grinning. He took Ziggy into the house and then they set off with the puppy curled trustingly in Wylie’s lap.

  * * * *

  “What you have here,” Doc Rawlins said half an hour later, “is a healthy but underfed terrier mix that I estimate is around four months old. Not chipped, unfortunately.”

  “Fortunately,” Wylie replied tartly. “Whoever owned him should be castrated.”

  The vet laughed. “I tend to agree. At least they had him fixed before they dumped him. He needs a good grooming, good food, and a good home, not necessarily in that order.”

  “He’s getting all three,” Garry told him. “Wylie’s keeping him, since there’s no way to know who the original owner was.”

  “My bet is someone passing through, though how he ended up in the middle of the forest is anyone’s guess.”

  “Because they didn’t want him following them,” Wylie growled.

  “You’re probably right,” the vet agreed.

  After leaving the vet, they stopped at the pet store on Market. The owner fawned over the puppy while suggesting what foods Wylie should buy him. It wasn’t until they were at the counter—so he could pay for the large bag of dry food, a dozen cans of wet, food bowls, and a grooming brush—that she realized who he was.

  “You’re the man who caught Alicia Harte. I just don’t understand why she did that.” She shuddered. “Poor Nelly. Poor Emma. At least Emma’s still alive thanks to you and Garry.”

  “And Carl,” Garry pointed out.

  “Well, of course.” She shook her head. “That man has his fingers into everything, I swear.”

  “That he does. Okay, do you have everything you need?” Garry asked Wylie.

  “I think…Oh, wait.” He handed the puppy to Garry before going to a display of collars and leashes, since he’d left the puppy’s old ones with the vet. Choosing one of each, he returned to add them to his purchases. When he’d paid, he took the puppy back, setting him on the floor, and put the collar around his neck before snapping on the leash. “You ready to rumble?” he asked the puppy.

  Apparently he was, because he started for the shop door. Wylie and Garry gathered up everything and they returned to the car with the puppy in the lead.

  “Home and then the hospital?” Garry asked.

  “Yeah. I don’t think they’ll let me bring Coal in with me.”

  “Ah-ha, you finally chose a name for him.”

  “I did. He’s coal black, so it fits, right Coal?” Wylie replied as he settled in the passenger seat with the puppy on his lap. Coal yipped and then licked Wylie’s face. “Guess he agrees.”

  * * * *

  When they were back at the house, Wylie let Coal explore while he went into the kitchen to put the bowls in one corner and fill them. Then he made sandwiches for him and Garry.

  “You might have a problem,” Garry said from the archway, taking the sandwich Wylie handed him.

  “Oh, hell, what?”

  “Come and see.” Garry led the way to the bottom of the stairs. Coal was at the top, looking down at them. “He made it up easily enough, but I think he’s afraid to come down again.”

  Wylie chuckled, went up, and step by step, using a small piece of ham from his sandwich, he coaxed the puppy down. As soon as Coal got off the bottom step, he made a dash to the kitchen and began eating. Wylie and Garry finished their sandwiches, then Wylie took some time to brush Coal, which the puppy suffered with reasonable good grace. The last thing Wylie did before they left for the hospital was get an old blanket from a box of his grandfather’s stuff in the basement, laying it out in the corner of the main room. Coal seemed to get the idea that it would be his bed because he immediately lay down on it.

  “You be a good boy while I’m gone,” Wylie said, patting his head.

  “Yes, Daddy,” Garry said in a high-pitched voice, getting a laugh in return.

  Coal was already half asleep when they left, with Wylie saying under his breath, “I hope he’s housebroken.”

  “If not, at least your downstairs floors aren’t carpeted, which will make cleanup easier.”

  “True, that.”

  * * * *

  They were allowed to visit Emma, as she was going to be released later that afternoon. Roger was with her, prompting Wylie to ask, “Who’s watching the shop?”

  “One of the guys from the stained glass store a couple of doors down,” Roger told him. “I can’t believe how everyone’s offered to help us.”

  “Small town, big hearts,” Garry replied.

  “Very big hearts,” Emma said with a shy smile. “I owe you my life, both of you. I don’t know how I’ll thank you.”

  Wylie took her hand, giving it a squeeze. “You being alive is the only thanks we need. Not really my business, but have you remembered anything about what happened.”

  “No. I wish I could. It would help when Alicia goes to trial.”

  “I’m glad you haven’t,” Wylie replied. “You don’t need to have nightmares about it.”

  “Are you? I mean having nightmares? The sheriff said she almost killed you.”

  “I didn’t last night,” Wylie replied. “I hope that continues.”

  Garry chuckled. “For sure. You need your beauty rest.”

  “Uh-huh. Thanks a lot.” Returning his attention to Emma, Wylie said, “If you need anything, anything at all, give me a call, okay?”

  “I think I’ll be fine. Roger said he’d stay with me tonight, to make sure I’ll be all right.”

  “I’m also making damned sure she gets some sort of security,” Roger said.

  “If you want my help, I can recommend a couple of things and then install them.”

  “You can?” Roger seemed surprised.

  “I guess you haven’t heard all the stories about his illustrious career as a private detective,” Garry said.

  Roger shook his head. “We haven’t, but honestly, Wylie, if you mean it, I’ll take you up on your offer. All I know is how to
turn on what’s at our shop.”

  “Deal.” Wylie finally released Emma’s hand, saying, “We should get out of here so you can get ready to be sprung.”

  “All right. Thank you again, both of you,” she replied fervently.

  “You’re welcome,” Garry replied, with Wylie echoing him, and then they left the room.

  They ran into Sheriff Kingman coming into the hospital when they arrived in the lobby.

  “Anything?” Garry asked.

  “Not from Alicia. She’s still under sedation. I doubt there will be because her folks have already hired a lawyer. You know he’s going to tell her not to talk with me. But…” He smiled briefly. “I have found out where she kept Nelly before she killed her.”

  “Oh?”

  Kingman nodded. “Mr. Young, who lives up north, owns two of the buildings on Market. The second floors have been broken into apartments, like most of the other buildings. Anyway, if someone hasn’t paid the rent by the tenth, he comes into town to collect it in person.”

  “Let me guess, Alicia had rented one of them,” Wylie said.

  “Yes. He knew that she teaches at the middle school, so when he didn’t get a reply when he visited the apartment he went over there. They told him what had happened, he came by my office, and we went to check it out.” Kingman shook his head. “He told me she’d rented it two months ago, because according to her she wanted a place of her own. For all we know, it might have been the truth. The furniture comes with the place, but there were clothes in the closet, and some dishes and such in the kitchen. It’s possible I guess that she hadn’t let Betty and Jake know she wanted to move out.” Kingman smiled dryly. “Knowing them, they would have told her that wasn’t happening. She’s their only and they kept a tight rein on her.”

  “Poor woman,” Wylie said softly.

  “No kidding. Be that as it may, when we checked the bedroom we found ropes tied to each corner of the bed, the same way they had been on the bed in the cabin where we rescued Emma. My forensics people are going over the place now. I’m sure they’ll find evidence that it’s where she was keeping Nelly prisoner before she killed her.”

  “There’s a back door to the building?” Wylie asked.

  “Yes, and stairs to the second floor. My conjecture is, she parked in back after she abducted Nelly, waited to be certain no one was watching, then carried her upstairs. Nelly was pretty small, and Alicia is fairly muscular, for a woman.”

  “So she was strong enough to do that, and to carry Nelly’s body down to the cave,” Garry commented. “That’s the reason we didn’t even consider the fact a woman could be the killer, because they wouldn’t have had what it takes to lug a body down there.”

  “We were all being misogynistic,” Wylie said wryly.

  “I suppose we were to an extent,” Kingman replied. “Anyway, that’s where things stand at the moment. I owe the three of you a debt of gratitude, especially you, Mr. Lewis. I’d still be beating my head against a wall without your help.”

  “You’d have figured it out eventually,” Wylie said. “We just helped speed things up. Oh, and would you please stop with the ‘Mr. Lewis’. My name’s Wylie.”

  “Habit,” Kingman replied. “Since I guess you’re sticking around, Wylie it is.”

  “He definitely is if I have anything to say about it,” Garry said, putting one arm around Wylie’s shoulders.

  Wylie looked at him, smiling. “You have everything to say about it.”

  Kingman lifted an eyebrow but obviously refrained from commenting. Instead he said, “Thanks for the help. Now I have to talk to Emma, again, and hope she’s remembered something.” With that, he strode to the elevator.

  “He’ll be shit out of luck,” Garry said as he and Wylie walked out of the hospital.

  “Barring a miracle, he will be. Right now, you’d better drop me at home so you can get to the restaurant before your employees rebel.”

  “Len let them in, but yeah, it would probably be a good idea if I put in an appearance.”

  When they got to Wylie’s house, Garry asked, “Will I see you tonight?”

  “Oh, yeah. I’m definitely not in the mood for cooking.”

  Garry smirked. “When are you?”

  “Alternate Wednesdays when it’s raining?”

  “If then.” Garry cupped Wylie’s nape, easing him close enough to kiss. “I’ll see you in a couple of hours. Say hi to Coal.”

  “Uh-huh.” Wylie kissed him quickly, got out of the car, and said, “See you later,” before watching him drive away.

  The second he entered the house a rambunctious puppy raced across the room with yips of greeting.

  “Hello to you, too. I bet you’d like to go out.”

  Coal slid to a stop in front of him, looking up with an adoring gaze. After patting his head, Wylie went to the back door. Coal was right at his heels and out the door the second he opened it. Wylie was very glad that the fence surrounded the back yard to contain the excited puppy.

  While he waited for Coal to wear himself out, Wylie went upstairs to change into a nicer shirt for dinner. Seeing the blood stain on the wall reminded him he was going to wash it off, so he got a bucket from the basement, some cleaning spray, and rags, and set to work. It took a few minutes but in the end the blood was gone. The stain on the carpet was another thing, which he dealt with by setting the throw rug from under the table over it. As he did, he heard Coal yipping and looked out the window. The puppy was standing in front of the shed, looking up at a squirrel who was eyeing him disdainfully. Then it leapt onto the fence and disappeared, engendering a real bark from Coal.

  With a laugh, Wylie went down to call him back inside. It took Wylie’s rattling his food dish to convince him it was worthwhile to leave the yard behind. After giving him half a can of wet food and refilling his water bowl, Wylie still had some time to kill so he turned on the TV to watch the local news. Unsurprisingly, Alicia’s capture was the top story. Besides an interview with the sheriff, the reporter had tried to talk to her parents, only to have Jake Harte tell him he had no comment before slamming the front door in his face. There was also a shot of Wylie’s house while the reporter was ringing the doorbell, making him very glad that he and Garry had spent their time walking and then at the vet.

  “You saved me from making a fool of myself,” he told Coal when the puppy bounced over to the sofa and scrambled onto it to settle in his lap. “Not so sure I should let you up here,” Wylie said, scratching behind his ears, but he didn’t kick him off.

  Eventually, after finishing with the news, and watching a game show, Wylie decided it was time to leave. He put Coal down on his blanket, checked to be certain he had everything, and headed off to the restaurant.

  * * * *

  “The hero arrives,” Len called out the second he saw Wylie enter the bar at Parish Garage.

  “I’m no hero,” Wylie replied, his words almost drowned out by cheers from the assembled patrons. He wanted to slink away but had the feeling that wasn’t an option.

  “You’re our hero,” Dave said, sliding off the barstool so that Wylie could have the seat next to Carl.

  “Go with it, it’s easier,” Carl said with a grin.

  Wylie rolled his eyes, telling Len he wanted a beer. Three people immediately told Len they’d pay for it. Len waved them off, saying it was on the house.

  “Anyone would have done what we did,” Wylie said. “And I mean ‘we’. Me, Carl, and Garry, and the sheriff.”

  “But you’re the one who put his life on the line,” Frank said, slinging an arm around Wylie’s shoulders.

  “Because I thought it was you I’d be facing,” Wylie retorted with a grin after deciding Carl was right. It was easier to play along than fight what he thought was the unwarranted attention he was getting.

  “Me?” Frank looked at him is disbelief, stepping back.

  “You, Dave, Len…”

  “Probably half the men in town,” a guy sitting two stools down said. �
��Not that I can blame him. Who would have thought it could have been some woman, especially Alicia?”

  “You haven’t met my wife,” another man said, which earned him laughs, and a hard smack on the shoulder from the woman in question.

  “Need rescuing?” Garry asked from behind Wylie.

  “Big time,” Wylie admitted with a wry smile. “I’m not used to hero worship.”

  “Even though you deserve it, I understand. Come with me and I’ll feed you a hero’s dinner. You, too, Carl.”

  “You’re taking them away from their adoring fans?” Len asked, grinning.

  “I am.” Garry led them to the same table, tucked in the back corner of the restaurant, which he and Wylie had used previously—before Nelly had been kidnapped.

  “I hope they treated you and Carl the same way,” Wylie said once they were seated.

  “They did,” Carl replied. “Well, not quite so enthusiastically because we didn’t risk life and limb to catch her.”

  “All I did…Oh, never mind. I’m not going to rehash it all. It’s over, so hopefully things will get back to normal.”

  “They will,” Garry promised.

  The waitress appeared to give Wylie and Carl menus. “Do you want another drink?” she asked.

  “No!” Wylie replied emphatically. “Coffee, please.”

  “Same here,” Carl said, and Garry told her coffee was fine with him, too.

  By the time she returned with it, they’d decided what to order and told her.

  When she left, Carl turned to Wylie, grinning. “I understand you’ve got a housemate.”

  “I do. You’ll have to stop by to meet him. Oh, speaking of which, I need—”

  “We’re not talking business tonight,” Carl admonished. “We’re relaxing, for the first time in it seems like forever.”

  “No kidding,” Wylie agreed, although he and Garry had already relaxed on their walk that morning.

  “What are your plans now that everything’s calmed down?” Carl asked.

  “Finish redoing the house—and no, I’m not telling you what that involves since I’m not allowed to talk business,” Wylie replied with a grin. “After that, I honestly don’t know. I suppose at some point I’m going to have to find a job. The money I inherited from Gramps isn’t going to last forever.”

 

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