There were signs, too. I couldn’t read signs, but I knew they told humans what to do. And what not to do. Cassie stopped in front of one to read it. But she didn’t always do what she was told.
Cassie hid her bike in a bush and scrambled over the wall. I took a leap and landed next to her. “This is it, Dodge,” she told me. “This is the where Ward disappeared.”
I sniffed around. Ocean smells were strong, and there were a lot of them. And there was always wind. Wind swirled the smells together so you couldn’t catch a trail. It blew in smells from miles away just to trick you. I caught a whiff of cinnamon rolls. Then seal. Kelp. Fish. Boat fuel. Dead jellyfish. Ham sandwich. It was so garbled I wasn’t even sure The Nose could have sorted it out.
We walked away from the huge house toward the water. I bounded ahead of Cassie, hoping the smells would be clearer by the shore. On one side, huge rocks jutted out into the water, past the deep, dark waves. On the other side, a big cliff cut right into the ocean. The sides of it were almost straight. When waves crashed into it they split in half and barely slowed. I stopped on the steep trail, looking down past the big rocks to the moon of beach.
“What is it, Dodge?” Cassie asked. I wasn’t sure. Something about the water made my hair stand up.
I didn’t have a problem with water. On a hot day I’d take anything — lake, stream, kiddie pool. Anything. On a cool day I’d happily get my feet wet. But this water looked like it wanted to suck you down and never let go. It looked … hungry. I stared. I might have whined. Cassie patted me and kept going down the trail. I followed.
Fishing nets. Storm drain stink. Sea lettuce. Shellfish. My nose was still going crazy when my paws hit sand. Then the wind shifted. I felt my fur fluff the other way. New smells were blowing in. Human smells. Fried eggs and laundry soap. Somebody was close. I spun around and barked to let Cassie know.
A woman was walking fast down the trail, the only path to the beach. And she was yelling at us. “You are trespassing! Leave now or I’ll call the police!”
Well, that only took six minutes,” I grumbled as the dark-haired woman approached.
“Leave now or I’ll call the police!” she shouted again.
How perfect. Most of the time it was cool having a police-chief mother. But sometimes — like right now — it was a major pain. I was exactly one phone call away from being arrested and grounded, and there was no way off the beach except the swirling sea or the path the woman was standing on.
I saw Dodge’s lip twitch and heard a growl rumbling in his throat. I patted him gently. “I think we’d better make friends.” Plastering a grin on my face, I threw up my hand in a wave. Time to roll over and play dumb.
I patted my pockets with my other hand, feeling for the leash I carried for emergencies. I snapped it on Dodge’s collar. “Finally!” I called to the woman. “I’ve been chasing him for almost an hour!”
If Dodge could have winked at me, he would have. Since he couldn’t, he made puppy-dog eyes, wagging and leaning into my leg like he was apologizing. “Bad dog,” I told him as I smirked inside.
The woman closed in and I instantly saw the wrinkles on her forehead. She was older than my parents and didn’t look like she smiled much — every line on her face pointed down. I hoped we could pull this off.
As if reading my mind, Dodge lay down and put a paw over his nose, looking ashamed.
“I’m really sorry for trespassing, ma’am. I was just trying to catch my dog. We’ll go now, but — whoa! Is that your house?” I interrupted myself and made my eyes wide — like I only just now noticed the mansion overlooking the ocean. “That’s amazing!”
The woman looked mildly amused. “Oh, no,” she replied. “I’m the housekeeper, Louisa Frederick.” She held out her hand, then noticed that mine was still in Dodge’s fur. She recoiled like I was elbow deep in a port-a-potty. “This is the Ward Estate.”
Double bingo, I thought. Not only had we located the estate, we were in direct contact with the person who had reported Ward missing. I needed to keep Louisa Frederick talking.
“No way!” I exclaimed. “Like Ward, as in Verdel Ward? The skinny billionaire who, like, disappeared?” I did my best starstruck routine and stared at Louisa like she had keys to the kingdom. Dodge stared at her with reverence, too. And it worked.
“That’s right.” She nodded. “He went swimming one morning and never made it back.” She pointed at the cliff side of the cove. I followed her finger to the dark, swirling water.
“You mean he went swimming here, at Tempest Point? Isn’t the riptide super dangerous?”
“Yes, right here.” Louisa confirmed. “He swam here everyday. And he knew all about the riptide.” She paused dramatically. She seemed to enjoy being the center of attention, and I got the feeling she didn’t have many people to talk to. “The Coast Guard warned him it wasn’t safe, but my employer liked only three things: a morning swim, an afternoon cigar, and money.” She practically spat the last word, and her scowl was back. “I think he liked the danger signs too — they kept other people away, kept his cove private.”
“Wow,” I muttered. He sounded even meaner when she put it like that. “So, how’d he drown?” Sometimes the direct route was best. “He must have known what he was doing out there if he swam here every day.”
Louisa was quiet for a minute, and I wondered if I’d pushed too far. Then her eyes clouded as she gazed at the ocean. “He was swallowed,” she said gravely. “One cannot trust the sea.”
Her words were so matter of fact that I believed her. I looked back at the angry water and felt a shiver run up my spine. It really did look like it could eat a man. Maybe Ward had pushed his luck one time too many.
We all stared at the roiling water. Then Louisa remembered why she had come out — to run us off. “Okay. You have your dog. It’s time for you to go.”
“Of course,” I said, smiling. “We’re outta here. So sorry to take up your time, Ms. Frederick. Thanks for not calling the police.” I kept babbling as I racked my brain for an excuse to linger. I wasn’t ready to go — I wanted more time to explore the beach. Or better yet, the house!
I started up the path, then turned back, blocking Louisa’s way. I shifted from one foot to the other, looking flustered. “Um. We’re happy to leave. Only, I ran after my dog pretty far and, well, may I use your bathroom?”
Louisa eyed me. She eyed Dodge. I thought maybe she was on to us. Then she sighed. “I suppose.” She walked around us and led the way up the path. “You’ve done me a favor, in a way — you’ve reminded me to set the perimeter alarm. Trespassers are the last thing I need.”
The house was big. Bigger than the Sullivans’. Bigger than the police station. Big. The laundry-soap woman led us up to the doors. She swayed when she walked. She moved slowly. Her right leg took shorter steps than the left. She used her shoulder to open the heavy door. Inside was a giant room with a hard white floor — the kind that’s hard to grip.
I trotted inside behind Cassie, trying not to slip. Where she went, I went. But the lady frowned and made puffing noises. Her hair was pulled back tight. Maybe it hurt. Maybe that was what made her so mad. “Dogs aren’t allowed in here,” she blurted.
I looked at Cassie. I got my orders from her, not angry women with pulled hair.
Cassie brushed her off like a horse shooing a fly with its tail. “Oh, but I don’t want him to run off again,” she said. She walked forward, staring at the walls. The art. The big sparkly lights. I kept following. The lady just stood there blinking.
“And no one will ever know. I mean, you’re the only one here, right?” Cassie’s voice echoed on the hard floors.
I sat down. I tried to look polite. And small. Cassie stood beside me. I could have licked her, but didn’t. “Stay,” Cassie told me firmly.
I whimpered. Just a little bit, to make it seem like I was too tired to go anywhere. Her eyes told me what she really meant. Words don’t always tell the truth. Eyes can’t help it.
I sat. I stayed. The lady walked past me, keeping as much distance as possible. I watched her lead Cassie through a door and around a corner. I twitched my ears, keeping the good one trained on my girl. Then I got up to take a sniff around.
“This place is huge!” Cassie exclaimed from somewhere deeper in the house. The echoes told me she was in another large room. The lady’s footsteps told me they hadn’t reached a bathroom. “Do you ever get lost?” Cassie asked. “Or, like, creeped out? You live here alone, right?” Cassie kept talking so I could keep tabs on their location while I explored. She was good.
I put my nose to the floor. The dominant smell was definitely old. With microwave meals underneath. Wool. Mildew. Smoke. But not just any smoke. I sniffed again. Not cigarette. Maybe wood. More than one kind? I sniffed over to a doorway off the main entry.
“Of course I’m not afraid.” The lady sounded annoyed. “I’m a grown woman.” The footsteps stopped. They had reached the bathroom.
I heard Cassie thank her. Then I heard a door open and click shut.
I stepped into the new room. Another big one, and darker than the entry. There were tall windows with curtains over them. There were lots of books. Old books. They smelled of dust. And mildew. I spotted a stone fireplace and trotted over to investigate. No ash piles. No wood, even. Everything was clean, including the tools. Shiny. But the smoke smells were strong. I sniffed. Something had been burned here. Recently. I had my head in the fire box when I heard her behind me.
She was in the door, looking at me the way a hawk looks at a mouse. But I was no mouse. I stared right back. She dropped her eyes and retreated a step. I knew she didn’t like dogs. But as I caught a whiff of the anxious odor coming off her — a mix of metal and cider vinegar — I discovered something else. She was afraid of dogs. Afraid of me. Interesting.
I ignored her and went back to sniffing. Only now the smell of fear coated everything else. I thought about growling — to send her away. But Cassie wanted to make friends. So I wagged and took a step toward her. She pressed herself against the wall.
Water rushed through the pipes in the wall. A flush. I sat. I stared. The housekeeper and I were still eyeing each other when Cassie walked in. I got up and walked back to the fireplace.
Pausing just inside the door, Cassie let out a low whistle. But she wasn’t calling me. She was impressed. “This is some place,” she said. “So how come you still live here if your boss is dead?”
“The house is still here, and I am a professional housekeeper,” the woman replied briskly. “Until the estate is settled and I’m thrown out, I’m staying.” Then, more quietly, she added, “It’s been my home for thirty years.”
Cassie nodded and started talking again. Asking questions about the stuff in the room. I tuned it out. She was buying us time. I didn’t want to waste it.
I stepped back into the giant fireplace opening and gave the place a full nose scan. The tender tip of my nose brushed something small, up high in the dark. Paper. Just a scrap. Stuck to the brick. I grasped it in my teeth and was backing out when I heard a shriek.
The lady was flapping in my direction. “What is he doing? Out! Get him out of there,” she shouted. “He’ll get soot all over the carpet!”
Cassie called me and I went. Even though I could never get anything on the carpet. That fireplace had been scrubbed sootless.
Cassie kept up the chatter as we were shooed toward the front entry. The lady’s answers got shorter and shorter. When we got to the door she practically pushed us out. Cassie kept smiling, though. She waved and said thank you.
I was ready to get out. When the door opened I practically ran. When it closed I put my muzzle in Cassie’s hand.
“What’s this?” She took the wet scrap of paper from me and started to look at it. “Other,” she read. “But what’s been burned off?” She got the look she gets when she’s playing Scrabble. Then she glanced at the house and stuffed the scrap into her pocket. She was right. The lady could be watching.
We started down the drive, looking back once or twice. We were near the wall when the wind changed. It blew in from behind the house. And it carried a load of new smells — familiar and terrible. Chemicals. Urine. Metal. Pain.
“Let’s get out of here,” Cassie said. She didn’t have to pull my leash. The scents on the wind made me want to run hard and fast.
A wet nose nudged my cheek and steady blasts of dog breath warmed my face. Apparently it was time to wake up. I opened one eye and peeked at Dodge. “Morning.”
The second he heard my voice, Dodge wagged and gave me a kiss. I smiled and fended him off gently. My doggie wake-up-call beat my alarm by a long shot, even on a Monday. But it didn’t tell me what time it was.
I looked at the clock by my bed and groaned. “Dodge, it’s six-thirty!” I could have slept another half hour — more if I’d hit snooze. Did he have to go out? Why didn’t he just … The sound of the coffee grinder triggered my brain and I sat up. “Oh, yeah. We have work to do.”
On the way to the bathroom, I felt my brain picking up speed. We hadn’t made much progress since we’d gotten into Ward’s house. The scrap of paper Dodge had given me had to mean something, but I had no idea what. It was just a burnt corner with a single typed word, or maybe part of a single word — since it was singed right up to the edge. It said “other.” Other what? I’d been asking myself that all night. The paper was thick and rough. The kind of paper they use for certificates at school or important letters. Probably all of Ward’s paper was this nice. I set the scrap down and got dressed in a rush.
With Mom moving at breakneck speed all weekend, I hadn’t had a second to grill her about the case. Until now.
Dodge and I bounded downstairs to find Mom pouring coffee into a travel mug. Her bag was ready to go on the table. Another few minutes and I would have missed her. Thanks, Dodge.
“Hey, Mom!” I gave her a hug.
“Hey, Cass.” She held her coffee out so she wouldn’t slosh it while she hugged me back with her free arm. “You’re awfully chipper for a Monday.”
“Good weekend, I guess.” I poured food in Dodge’s bowl and he wagged gratefully before burying his face in the kibble. “Barely saw you though.” It felt kind of cruel to play the guilt card right off, but it was the only one that would keep her from rushing out the door.
Mom’s face fell. I could see she felt bad, which I didn’t want. But she slowed down and started talking, which I did want. “I know,” she apologized. “I’m sorry. It’s just that ever since I opened this investigation I can’t get caught up. Everyone wants to talk to me, but I’m getting nowhere.”
I grabbed the cereal and nodded sympathetically while I poured the milk.
“First we went round and round with the housekeeper. Useless, and she’s about as charming as Ward was.”
I knew that, of course.
“And Mayor Baudry has been calling. And calling. He’s putting pressure on me to close the case, because as long as Ward’s death is under investigation, the estate can’t be settled and the city can’t claim the whole thing. What Baudry doesn’t seem to realize is that even if I wasn’t investigating, the estate would still be in dispute. Especially with the fiancée coming to town.”
Dodge’s ears pricked up, and so did mine. “The fiancée is real?” I asked.
“Well, there’s a real woman claiming she and Ward were going to be married. And she has a real lawyer. And a real ring. But it’s only her word against a dead man’s — she has no proof of the relationship.”
I was about to ask what the fiancée’s name was when Furball jumped onto the counter, startling Mom and reminding her that she was supposed to be on a schedule. “Oh, shoot. I was going to get in early today.” She snapped the lid on her mug. “It was nice to have breakfast with you, sweetie. I’ll see you tonight.” She planted a kiss on my head, grabbed her bag, and was gone.
Seventh grade was pretty much like every other grade. There were things and people I liked: H
ayley, science, debate, and art. And things and people I didn’t like: P.E., tests, cafeteria food, and Summer.
Not summer as in swimming, corn on the cob, and lemonade. I loved that summer. Summer as in Summer Hill … popular, pretty, and mean to the core. That Summer drove me bananas — just the sight of her could make my lip curl. Which was why I did my best to pretend she didn’t exist, even when I could hear her cackling and talking all the way across the entire cafeteria, closing in on the unsuspecting new girl at the table by the window.
Look away, I told myself. This is not your problem. Only it felt a little like it was my problem.
“Hey, have you met the new girl?” I asked Hayley. She was next to me in the lunch line, wrinkling her nose at the Tofu Surprise. It wasn’t easy being a vegetarian at Harbor. I looked at the meatloaf swimming in a tray of green-flecked sauce, sealed in plastic. It wasn’t easy being an omnivore, either.
“Yeah,” Hayley said, curls bouncing. “Alicia, right? She’s in my history class. Seems cool. Did you know she lived in Cambodia?” Hayley gave her “food” a cautious sniff before dropping it onto her tray. I left the meatloaf on the warming table and grabbed a cup of chocolate pudding and a prewrapped turkey sandwich.
I nodded that I knew. I’d met Alicia in science class and we’d spent the end of the period talking. Her parents were Civil Engineers in the Peace Corps and they’d lived all over. This was her first time in “normal” American school. Which made her a perfect target for that thing I was trying to ignore. That thing that was tossing her blonde hair, smiling, and not looking the slightest bit dangerous.
I knew from experience that, as innocent as she looked, Summer was dangerous. Let it go, I told myself. Pretend she doesn’t exist.
But the situation was getting worse by the second. Summer and her posse, Eva and Celeste, were standing around Alicia with their matching haircuts, phony smiles, and lunches that they’d barely eat.
Play Dead Page 3