The Dog Thief

by Marta Acosta

  “Hi, Raymond.” I kept out of his reach, far enough away to bolt he made a sudden move.

  “Don’t I get a hug?” he said, and then threw his head back in a laugh that shook the belly pushing out against a chrome-yellow Achy-Breaky Heart t-shirt. “Guess not. Same old Maddie. Where’s the baby-girl?”

  I pointed out toward the main corral. “She’s busy with her horses. We’re both extremely busy.”

  “I thought absence made the heart grow fonder,” he said, his smile still wide. “I’ll keep out of your hair, what there is of it. Let me dump my stuff in my room.”

  “It’s Kenzie’s office now.”

  “Then I’ll take your room.” He walked back to his car and took out an overstuffed duffel bag. He headed for the house.

  “No, it’s too...you can sleep in the living room. On the couch. It’s nice there. You have to get up early, though, because we have client meetings.”

  Raymond had Kenzie’s blue-gray eyes, seeming darker by contrast with his lush lashes. He’d been so pretty once. His teeth were stained with tobacco and his skin was thick and rough as if he’d spent every day passed out drunk on his back under a desert sun.

  “It’s my goddamn house, too, Madeleine Margaret,” he said, going through the back door and into the kitchen, and I followed a few steps behind. “The couch is too short for me.”

  “Let me get Kenzie. She’ll figure it out.”

  “You’re the big sister. You figure it out.”

  He stood in the cheerful room, looking around at the colorful dishes and decorations. “I always expect it to be the way it was.”

  “Kenzie likes to decorate. You can sleep in her room. It’s the coziest. There are cinnamon rolls if you’re hungry.”

  The duffel bag landed with a thump when he dropped it in the middle of the linoleum. He opened the fridge, and I said. “I’ll tell Kenzie you’re here.”

  As soon as the back door closed behind me, I broke into a run and I was out of breath by the time I caught up with my sister, who was sitting on the corral fence.

  “What now?”

  “Raymond’s here.”

  “How does he look?”

  “Awful. He may or may not be sober. He insisted on sleeping in your room.”

  “Really? So where am I sleeping? Don’t answer.”

  I shrugged and shrugged again. “You can stay in my room if you don’t change or rearrange anything. I’ll camp out in my center.”

  “The living room doesn’t smell like dogs and pine disinfectant.”

  “Too close to Raymond. The first thing he said to me is that he’s part-owner of this place. But he’s absolutely not. We should have consulted a lawyer and, regardless, he hasn’t been paying property taxes or helped maintain it.”

  “I’ll talk to him in a few minutes.” Kenzie tipped up her cowboy hat so she could rub her forehead. “Let’s try not to get too agitated. You know Raymond—he’ll be friendly for a day or two while he’s plotting the best angle to extort us, and be gone before the month is over.” She smiled. “But we don’t have to make it too comfortable for him. Why not invite Oliver for dinner on Saturday?”

  “That is not in the realm of possibilities. Things with Ollie have degraded.”

  “I’m sure it’s entirely his fault,” she said with a smile, and I was glad she understood how awful he was.

  An appointment with a client at my center cut short the conversation. I tried not to think about Raymond in our house, touching our things, as horrible as a dancing bear that will waltz one-two-three and then maul your face off.

  Chapter 15

  GEORGIE CALLED TO REPORT that the old setter had found a home, but the aggressive lab was scheduled to be put down, so I sent Jaison to pick her up. We’d already decided to call her Heidi Two. I was in my office scheduling summer boarders when the dogs began barking and someone bellowed, “Holy shitload of shit!”

  I hurried outside and Raymond was scraping his boot on my observation deck while the dogs investigated him.

  “You’re not supposed to come in here without checking first. Some of these dogs could have attacked.”

  My brother grinned, showing too many teeth. “I’m not afraid of dogs. I was the first one to get a dog. If it wasn’t for me, you wouldn’t have your career, Dr. Whitney.”

  “You never took care of Midget, and I earned a doctorate.”

  “Only because you were too scared to leave Kenzie’s side.” He shrugged in a very calculated way and it took all my will not to react. “We shouldn’t be arguing, Big Sis. It’s good to see you again.”

  I repeated one of the phrases in my repertoire. “Nice to see you, too.” Bertie came to me, and I ignored him because I didn’t want Raymond to know he was special. When my brother glanced toward the fields, I signaled my dog away.

  “I even bought this t-shirt to wear for you. Remember? Remember how you sang along at the Achey-Breaky Heart Dance at Bonanza Days? I was six and you were eight. It was the last Bonanza Days before we moved.”

  “They still have the dance every year. It’s still on Labor Day.”

  “I’ll put it on my calendar.” He mimed writing in a notebook. “So which of these dogs is yours?”

  “They’re all mine. They’re all in my care.”

  “No favorites? Not even the pretty fluffy one?” He was looking at Ghost.

  “I like them all equally.”

  He laughed. “That’s what Mom always says. It’s not true, is it? You can’t love two people equally. I know because I tried to convince Suzie—you remember her, don’t you, because you were always looking down her shirt—that I loved her as much as my girlfriend and neither of them believed me. I learned you can’t love two people equally, but you can hate two people equally.”

  “How long are you planning on visiting?”

  “It’s not visiting when I’m staying at my house.” He bent over to pick up Thing Two. “I can sell this one for you and we we’ll split the take.”

  “I don’t sell dogs. I rehabilitate them, and that one isn’t ready to be put up for adoption.”

  “It’s old enough to go now. I bet Kenzie has a box of ribbons somewhere. I can put a bow around its neck and drive to a tasting room and catch a tourist on the way out.” Then he held up his hands. “Don’t look so pissed. I’m only offering business suggestions.”

  “No thanks. So what are you doing for work these days? Besides trying to sell my dogs, I mean.”

  “A little of this, a little of that. I’m open to entrepreneurial opportunities.” He dusted off his hands on his jeans. “Well, I’m going to explore the town and see what’s changed and who’s grown tits since I was last here. Don’t hold dinner for me.”

  I PACKED A BAG WITH my essentials and carried everything to the office trailer just as Jaison returned with Heidi Two. She was snarling within the crate as he placed it in the isolated kennel. In a practiced move, he opened the crate, stepped out of the kennel and closed the kennel gate at she charged out of the crate.

  I put my arm around his shoulders. “You’ve become a helluva dog handler, Jai. FYI, I’m sleeping in the evaluation room for a few days, and I’ll be locking the doors. Call me before you try to barge in.”

  “Things bad with Raymond?”

  “Not at their worst, but I know the plot of this particular bad dream.”

  “Okay, I’m outa here. See you tomorrow.”

  I read three chapters of Sara Jensen’s Living with Fire, and had to stop when I became too fretful about the summer dry season and the inevitable fires. I put a sleeping bag on the floor. I brought Bertie in with me and we sat on the sleeping bag, watching the local news on my laptop while I drank a Corona. We shared an apple and I gave Bertie half of a beef jerky stick.

  Sasha Seabrook was on the local news talking about fracking. I was buzzed enough to think she was sweet as she oversimplified the state’s oil production history and environment regulations. She was wearing a low cut top and I wondered what she�
�d smell like if I dipped my head down between her breasts.

  The news cut to Sasha chasing after Tess Carozzo as she left a farmer’s market. “Ms. Carozzo, Tess, you’ve been at the forefront of the efforts to stop the expansion of the Towering Pines Casino, the use of pesticides in the vineyards, and declining ground water levels. Why aren’t you spearheading the opposition to hydraulic fracturing in the county?”

  Tess put her hand over face, said, “No comment,” and kept moving.

  Which was strange since Tess always had a comment.

  Then the screen went to Jeanne Gallego standing in front of the casino fountain, saying, “We at Towering Pines support all efforts to revive the economy of our county and bring in jobs that pay living wages, just as the casino and hotel have done for hundreds of workers.” Which sounded impressive but was content free.

  I shut my laptop and listened. Crickets chirped, frogs croaked, and a mockingbird thrilled a patchwork song. I felt safe here, with Bertie snoozing on a big bean bag chair and the other dogs nearby.

  My phone buzzed and I answered it with, “Ben!”

  “I’m sorry. I wanted to call you earlier this week but time got away from me.”

  “No worries. I didn’t call either. Phone calls always feel like homework to me. One of my therapists always assigned me to phone people and have banal conversations. What is the fucking point of saying, ‘How are you? I am fine.’ Kenzie handles most of our calls. I’m better on emails and texts, because I can edit and revise my stupid opinions and give the appearance of being a decent human being.”

  “I think you’re too self-critical.”

  “I think everyone else should be far more self-critical. There’s altogether too much self-empowerment bullshit going around.”

  He laughed. “What are you doing?”

  “At the moment, I’m sitting on top of a sleeping bag in my evaluation room.”

  “Should I ask why?”

  “My brother is here. I could stay in one of the trailers, but Kenzie doesn’t allow Bertie to go inside because of dog hair. What are you doing Saturday? Do you want to come to our SAR training? An expert is going to coach us.”

  “Am I a part of your team now?”

  “How can you ask? Didn’t you feel it? When we were all together...didn’t you feel our synchronicity?”

  “It was exhilarating, but I was more of a stable boy than a jockey in the race. Don’t you think so?”

  “Don’t overthink. That’s what another therapist told me.”

  “How many therapists have you had?”

  “The question is not how many. The question is how many were helpful.”

  “How many were helpful?”

  “One. She suggested that I memorize a list of polite rote expressions and use them in random rotation like a polite phrase generator,” I said, and he laughed. “So will you be there Saturday?”

  “Can’t. I have appointments. Perhaps other time.”

  “I’ve acquired a great lab, Heidi Two, and she can be your SAR dog. Labs have acute noses and she’s energetic.”

  “Is she good with kids?”

  “She’s a work in progress.”

  “I’ll take that as a ‘no.’ Goodnight, Maddie.”

  “Night, Ben.”

  I wished Kenzie and I had the house to ourselves so I could talk about Ben because I couldn’t quite figure him out. I rolled my shoulders and held my arms out, shaking them loose.

  Once Claire had said to me, “I love women because we have subtext. Men, however, have an agenda.”

  “What’s the difference?”

  “Our communication has texture and theirs is a path toward a goal.”

  I got up and went to Heidi Two’s kennel. “As soon as you stop trying to kill other dogs, I’m going to help you become the amazing animal I know you really are,” I said. She wagged her heavy tail.

  Chapter 16

  THE SKY WASHED GOLD at the edge of the mountains and long before Raymond would wake up with his belches and groans and gaseous emissions, I went to the house, washed up, and ate breakfast. On the kitchen counter was a large bottle of aspirin with the childproof top sawed off, a serrated knife, potato chips spilling front an economy-size bag, and a blue plastic free-drink chip for the Ring-A-Bell. An empty pint of Jack Daniels was on the table beside a bowl with sodden cereal gone to mush.

  I’d just stepped outside when I heard footsteps and Kenzie calling, “Maddie, wait a minute.”

  She stood in the kitchen doorway. “Hi, Kenz. What are you doing up so early?”

  “Do you have my red suede flats? They’re not in my closet.”

  “No, I don’t have them.”

  “Am I supposed to clean up that mess?”

  “Whoever left the mess should clean it up.”

  “You can’t just dump Raymond on me.”

  “I didn’t invite him here. He’s your biological brother.”

  She gave me a death stare. “When you are old and frail, I am going to feed you to the wolves.”

  “Geez, Kenzie, stop with the drama. What do I have to do?”

  “Have dinner with Raymond tonight.”

  “He doesn’t want to have dinner with me.”

  “Maddie, please. I can’t have him sitting by himself on his second night here, and I have to go to parents’ night for summer session.”

  “He can go with you. He likes meeting new people.”

  “Only so he can scam them. You already gave him my room. He can make breakfast for dinner. He knows how to fry eggs. Find out what exactly he wants.”

  “So now I’m your investigator? Undercover Maddie. Fine.”

  “Thanks. And have Jaison supervise your meetings with the Specials this morning.”

  “I’m fully capable of conducting brief one-on-one meetings.”

  “Said the cannon rolling loose on deck in a typhoon. Jaison will like it. Be on time. And dress properly. And...”

  But I was already making my escape.

  RAYMOND LIKED KENZIE’S idea of cooking breakfast at 6 p.m., which was half-an-hour after he got up. He wore the same yellow shirt, now stained. I sat at the table and watched him deftly move from fridge to stove, picking up the huge cast iron skillet as easily if had been tinfoil. He had a magician’s illusory quality, making me suspect every gesture.

  He set the skillet on the old Wedgewood stove and turned up the flames. He cracked half a dozen eggs in a bowl, dropped bacon in the pan, taking a moment to wash his hands after I told him to, and began to make a pot of coffee.

  “I remember Mom cooking breakfast on this stove. Farm fresh eggs, now that’s what I miss about country life. You’ve got wide open space here, too much room for two girls.”

  “Two adult humans, employees, and a variety of animals, each requiring space.” I plucked a generic phrase from my stock. “Did you enjoy yourself last night?”

  He flipped the bacon, the delicious smell filling the room as the grease hissed and popped. “I did as a matter of fact. Found myself at the Ring-A-Bell. You ever hang out there?”

  “I prefer places where people don’t get roofied and-or stabbed at the pool table.”

  “It was hopping. I met one of your buddies.”

  “None of my friends frequent that establishment.”

  “Dawg from the veterinary place.”

  “Oh, Dawg. He hits all the places in town.”

  “He didn’t stay long. He invited me to his place at Vineyard Gardens. He must be doing pretty well for himself as a receptionist.”

  “He’s more like an office manager. He won the lottery a while back and bought the house.”

  “Lucky bastard. He told me lots of stories about the town, caught me up on things.”

  “He’s garrulous.”

  “You and your fifty-cent words. Establishment, garrulous. Yeah, he told me the new vet bought the Stud Lot. Fucking Doc Pete turning a profit on our property. Anyways, Dawg had stories about you.” Raymond speared the bacon with a fork, tr
ansferring it to a platter. He poured eggs into the pan and they sizzled in the grease. “Shit, Maddie, don’t look so wigged out. He thinks you’re great at fixing loser dogs.”

  “Oh, that’s nice.”

  “I heard about how you rescued an old lady and how you’re psychic. Which didn’t surprise me. You always looked like you were hearing voices.”

  I couldn’t tell if he was serious or not. “I am more functional now than I was.”

  “Wahoo, big accomplishment.” Raymond opened cupboards and drawers until he found plates and silverware.

  I couldn’t stop looking at the open cupboards. If I asked him to close them, he’d take it as a criticism. I stood, filling a glass of water as a cover, and then casually closed the drawers. I slid them open and shut a few extra times before returning to my seat.

  Raymond stared at me and grinned. “Still as crazy as a shithouse rat. Eat before your food gets cold.” He grabbed tumblers and a carton of orange juice. He took a plastic bag from the breadbox. “I got doughnuts at the Suncrest yesterday. It’s not breakfast without doughnuts.”

  He sat opposite me and reached into the bag, pulling out a chocolate glazed donut that had been melted and mashed somewhere in transit. He bit those big teeth into the doughnut and this was one thing Raymond didn’t do with delicacy—he ate with the ruthlessness of a starving animal. His teeth ripped into the food and gnashed, and he gulped down juice, spilling it over his lips, which he wiped with the back of his hand.

  This was the real Raymond, this carnivore, not the trained animal entertaining an audience. I looked down at my plate as I ate the greasy scrambled eggs.

  “Is there something wrong with the food?” he asked, his voice melodious, teasing.

  “It’s good. Thank you.”

  “I can cook for you every night,” he said. “So tell me about your love life. Is it still dicks and tits?”

  “Do you ask Kenzie if she’s still straight?”

  “I’m only trying to understand you a little, Big Sis.” He drew out “Sis” with a hiss. “You can ask me anything about who or what I screw.”