Play Dead

by Jane B. Mason

  “And you are?” Mom asked.

  “Sebastian Ward, of course,” the man stated, huffing his way forward.

  There was a collective gasp, and I had to put my hand over my mouth so I wouldn’t utter one of my own. Verdel Ward’s twin was here!

  I peeked around the shelf at the man, gaping. This was Verdel’s brother? Except for his sparse salt-and-pepper hair, he looked nothing like the photos of the scrawny millionaire I’d seen. He was … fat!

  For a long moment the only sound in the room was the man’s heavy footsteps on the marble floor. Everyone stared, openmouthed, as he approached the table waving some sort of document. A birth certificate? Part of the will?

  I was so busy gawking that I forgot to hide. I didn’t see Mom walking toward me until she was standing over me, glaring. I braced, waiting for her to let loose. Instead, she leaned toward the shelf like she was looking for a book.

  “That’s the end of the show for you, young lady,” she said, speaking so quietly I could barely hear her. “I suggest you depart as discreetly as you arrived, and make your way back to school. We will discuss this later.”

  What? No public humiliation? I could see the tiredness in her eyes, and suddenly realized how embarrassing it would be if my presence were known. I hadn’t thought about that. She turned and walked back toward the group, while I, feeling like an insect, crawled to the door and saw myself out.

  Cassie was coming. I eased off the warm couch, stretching gingerly. I shook out my legs. I was one sore dog.

  The key slipped into the lock. I wagged. “Woof.” Finally! The door opened and my girl dropped to her knees. Oooh, yes! I welcomed my scratch around the ears. Heaven! I took a minute to lap up the love, then stood meaningfully by the door. I was ready to go out. I had work to do. I wasn’t 100%, but wanted to be back on the job.

  “Hold on, I need to get a snack,” Cassie told me. She disappeared. I heard another key in the lock. “Woof.” What now?

  I stepped back and The Mom appeared. “Hello, Dodge. I see you’re feeling better.” She smelled stressed but reached out a hand. “Cassandra?”

  Uh, oh. Cassandra was never good. Cassandra was Cassie’s trouble name. Cassie slunk into the hall. If her ears were big enough to be useful they would have been flat against her head. She looked and smelled stressed. And guilty.

  The Mom was all over her. With words. “You could have gotten me into a lot of trouble today, Cassandra Sullivan,” she said. Only not with her usual strength. Or Chiefiness. She was dog-tired. I knew how she felt.

  Cassie dropped her head. “I know. I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me. I just —”

  The Mom halted her with a “stay” hand, and Cassie sat down. She had her commands mixed up. “I’m not going to punish you, because I know you’ve been through a lot in the past few days. But if I catch you sneaking out of school and spying ever again there will be significant consequences.”

  Cassie looked like she’d been caught drinking out of the toilet. “I understand,” she said.

  “Good. Now I’ve got to get back to the station — I just came by to pick up Ward’s bank records.” The Mom walked into the kitchen and grabbed a fat envelope, then pulled a yogurt from the fridge. “Ironic, really,” she said to herself as she shoved the yogurt and a spoon into her bag. “I wonder if everyone would be so fired up about Ward’s money if they knew how little he had left.”

  If Cassie had shepherd ears, they would have been standing straight up. She followed The Mom into the kitchen.

  The Mom picked up an apple and took a bite. “He was paying out huge sums of money to a foreign account every month. At the rate he was going, he’d have been broke by the end of next year.”

  I half listened while I paced in front of the door. Money didn’t make much sense to me. I knew it was a motive, though. I was ready to motivate. I paced. Click-click-click-click. Patiently. Click-click-click-click.

  Didn’t The Mom just say she was leaving? Shouldn’t she go? Now? Cassie and I had work to do!

  Let’s go, let’s go, let’s go, I told Cassie with my eyes.

  I stopped pacing and began to pant. I panted. And panted. I drooled on the floor — just a small puddle. Tiny, really. Let’s go, let’s go, let’s go. I whimpered — just a little. To remind her.

  At last she looked down. That was better. But then her gaze went back up to The Mom. Down to me. Up to The Mom. Down to me. “Mom. I think Dodge has to go.”

  Finally. Cassie smiled. She still smelled nervous. Like she was planning to do something she wasn’t supposed to.

  “I’m going to take him for a walk.”

  I wagged. Yes! Woof! A walk.

  The Mom gave us a long look. “Okay, but on leash,” she said slowly. “I don’t want him pulling out his stitches.”

  Cassie cringed. We hated the leash. Didn’t need it. Didn’t want it. But I was recovering. And if that was what it took to get out of here, I’d do it. I trotted into the laundry room and pulled the dangling end of the leash off the washing machine. Cassie snapped it onto my collar and opened the door. I tugged her gently forward. Okay, maybe not gently. But not forcefully, either.

  Cassie yanked me back. Oof! She never did that. “Sorry, boy. No running.”

  Fine. No running. We walked. To the sidewalk. Up the block. Toward Gatsby’s. It was hard to go slow. I sniffed my way up to his fence. He was there, at the gap. I put my nose right up to his. Saying thank you. Thank you for saving me. Gatsby wagged. Then he let out a l-o-n-g “bauuuuuuu.”

  I raised my head. “Whuff! Woof!” Yes. I was fine. I was back on the job.

  Gatsby bayed again. Mournful. He let it turn into a howl. “Bauuuuuuuu.” He wanted to come. But the chicken wire under the fence said “no.”

  Cassie tugged. “Time to go, Dodge.” She sounded impatient but was pulling in the wrong direction. I stood there, confused. Where was she going?

  “Dodge, come.”

  It took me a minute, but I sniffed out her plan. She was going to Pet Rescue, to get the captive. Good idea. He’d know the best way in.

  I wrinkled my nose and checked my watch. Our hiding place — behind the Pet Rescue Dumpster — wasn’t exactly glamorous. It was perfectly positioned, however, and spacious — there was plenty of room for both of us.

  PR would be closing in two minutes. The animal center closed early on Friday so the staff could get a little break before the busy weekend.

  The back door opened and Dr. Byrnes stepped out. Dodge wriggled. “You can thank her later,” I promised quietly. “Right now we’re laying low.”

  I could feel the whimper trapped in his throat, but he stayed still. I kissed his neck. The sun was setting and I leaned closer to his warmth. “You’re lucky you have a fur coat,” I whispered as we got back to watching the door.

  After what seemed like forever, Gwen emerged slinging her messenger bag over her narrow shoulder. She punched in the code for the alarm system and climbed onto her scooter. Turning the key, she revved the engine a little and sped away. I waited patiently, listening to the sound of the motor fading. When I couldn’t hear it, I looked to Dodge. His good ear was cocked — he was still listening. Even with only one good ear, Dodge’s hearing was a zillion times better than any human’s.

  “All clear.” I straightened, stretching my achy legs, and worriedly wondered how Dodge was doing. I hadn’t checked his stitches since this morning. “You okay?”

  Dodge trotted over to the patchy grass and lifted a leg, balancing perfectly. “Well all right, then,” I said, heading toward the door. I punched in the code and the lock slid open. We were in.

  I wiped my palms on my jeans and stepped inside. This was breaking and entering. Well, not exactly. I did have the code. And I was an employee. But it wasn’t as if I could do what I was about to do when Pet Rescue was open. It wasn’t as if I had permission …

  The dogs went nuts when they heard and smelled me, barking and jumping. It was a little overwhelming in the dim
light. I couldn’t see well, but had to stick with the power-save lights. We did not need to light up the place like a beacon.

  Hugo was in quarantine and barking like mad. But he was barking and wagging. I opened the kennel and he bounded up to me, licking my face. I felt my pocket — cell phone present. Hugo and Dodge gave each other a good, long sniff, making a nose-to-tail doggie yin yang. “Hugo, Dodge. Dodge, Hugo.” I introduced them while they introduced themselves. Circle. Sniff. Wag. There was a lot of wag. Hugo was free of his control device and could finally be himself — a big, friendly guy.

  I snapped a leash on him and we walked back past the kennels. “Sorry, everyone,” I told the pups. “No walks until tomorrow.” Ignoring my nerves, I led Hugo and Dodge outside. My fingers trembled as I punched in the code. Gwen and Taylor would definitely suspect I was the dognapper if they found out, but by then I’d have proof that Hugo was a good boy — that he could live with a family. We just had to foster him to prove it.

  We walked up the empty street to the intersection that marked the border between the warehouse district and the edge of downtown. I was looking forward to getting my dog duo home and settling in for the night. Maybe everything would work out okay, even. Then, out of the blue, Dodge pulled hard on my arm.

  “Dodge, come on! We’ve got to get Hugo home,” I said, looking over my shoulder. “He’s contraband.”

  Dodge whimpered, pulling harder. I was surprised by his strength so soon after his surgery. His back legs seemed rooted to the sidewalk. “Rowf!” His bark was sharp and insistent.

  “Shhhh!” I scolded. But Dodge wouldn’t stop pulling. Whatever he wanted, he wanted it badly. I could see there was no use arguing with him. “Okay, fine.” I let him take the lead and he pulled me down the street. “Whatever your plan is, I hope it’s good.”

  Dodge didn’t answer — he just kept moving. Hugo bounded along behind him, loving the exercise. It was all I could do to keep up. By the time we got to the edge of town, the sun was sinking, the wind was picking up, and I understood. We were going to Ward’s.

  No sooner did I realize where we were headed than Hugo slowed down. Waaayyy down. When the mansion came into view, he stopped altogether.

  Dodge pulled.

  Hugo whimpered.

  Dodge pulled.

  Hugo sat on his haunches.

  I was about to be split in two!

  “Dodge, hold on!”

  I turned to Hugo. “I’m not totally clear on the plan, either,” I admitted. “And I get that you don’t like it. But I’m pretty sure we need you to come with us. Do you think you could do that, Hugo? Please?”

  Hugo cocked his head, letting out a bark. “Aroof!” Then he stood up and walked s-l-o-w-l-y. “You know this place, huh?” I asked. Then I realized: Of course he did! Wasn’t this where Dodge found the remote? Duh! Hugo was Verdel Ward’s dog!

  Anger came on the heels of revelation. “That nasty old dude was zapping you, wasn’t he?” I asked, pausing to give poor Hugo a hug. Some people were just plain mean.

  Dodge pulled. “We’re coming!” I called as I gave Hugo a final encouraging pet.

  We made our way to the wall and I helped Dodge over. If his stitches hurt, he didn’t show it. Hugo, on the other hand, was not shy about his reluctance. Getting him over the wall required several forceful shoves. I started to scramble over behind them when Dodge let out a whuff. He stared at me meaningfully. I stopped. Then I got low.

  “Right. The perimeter alarm.” I whispered. I rolled over the wall and dropped. We made our way across the lawn like a SWAT team.

  We were right in the middle when I heard a familiar bauuu. Gatsby! We stopped for a second and the basset caught up, sides heaving and tongue lolling.

  “Nice going,” I congratulated The Nose as he and Dodge greeted each other. Gatsby gave Hugo a sniff and a wag, and it was back to business.

  “This is quite the dream team,” I whispered as the dew seeped into my jeans. Talk about backup! Still, I was nervous. I didn’t even know the plan!

  “Now what?” I whispered to Dodge. He lowered his head and led us around to a kennel. This was where Ward locked Hugo up. We huddled together at a distance, staring in the moonlight at Hugo’s cage. No wonder he hated kennels. Ears flattened, and the mood was somber. “No place for a dog,” I agreed.

  Dodge let out a sad whimper, and we circled back toward the dark mansion. Dodge sniffed his way along a hedge by the back door, looking for a way in. Gatsby followed. Hugo, though, was shaking. I put a hand on him. He was dropping hair, too — being here was obviously super stressful. If he hadn’t been on a leash, he definitely would have bolted.

  Dodge came over and nuzzled Hugo, whimpering and licking his face. A pep talk.

  It worked. Hugo moved in front of me and tugged on the leash, leading us to a small door under a kitchen window. It looked like a giant doggie door and was big enough for a twelve-year-old girl to squeeze through. Nice!

  I pushed. It gave, and we all went through. We were greeted by total darkness. Where were we? I fiddled with my pocket and pulled out my phone.

  Whoa! We were standing together at the top of a short, steep staircase. Two more steps forward and I would have fallen! “Let’s go, boys,” I said as Dodge started down. We scrambled after him in the near darkness. At the bottom of the staircase was a storage room with a clay floor and cases of something that looked like wine. Hugo crossed the space in my beam of dim light and started up another set of stairs. It ended at a second door. I turned the handle and pulled. Creeeaaak. The dogs walked through, the tags on their collars clanking. The hairs on the back of my neck rose as I propped the door open and lifted my cell phone into the air.

  We were in the kitchen. I saw a big old stove, a wooden table, and cabinets that ran all the way to the ceiling. I was totally out of breath, as if I’d been running a marathon. My heart beat wildly.

  This was definitely breaking and entering — my second infraction in one night! If my parents knew where I was, I’d be totally, completely busted.

  They don’t, I told myself. I squinted in the dark while the dogs sniffed around. Whether they were looking for a snack or clues I wasn’t sure. Then Dodge froze. A barely audible growl escaped his throat. I considered turning on a light — being able to see would be nice. But before I could reach for the switch, I heard a clatter in the next room.

  All four of us froze. Silence. Then we heard footsteps coming toward us, and a low, menacing, “Who’s there?”

  Grrrrr. I stood perfectly still for three seconds. Long enough to figure out where the footsteps were coming from. To catch a whiff. I’d smelled this guy before …

  Hugo yelped, and I saw the leash jerk.

  “Ow!” Cassie cried. She dropped the lead and Hugo bolted down the stairs. I sprinted after him. Cassie and The Nose heeled.

  I took the stairs four at a time, ignoring my stitches. We burst out the little door and sprinted toward the sea. After Hugo. I knew we wouldn’t catch him. Knew how fast a scared dog could run. But we had to get out of there.

  Gatsby made good time for an old hound. We raced down the trail to the beach, then stopped. Stood. Panting on the dark sand. Listening. We listened until we were sure we weren’t being followed.

  I wanted to run back and bite the guy. He deserved a bite. A bone crusher. But Cassie was upset about Hugo — I could smell it. I could feel it, too.

  “Some rescuer I am,” she said. She was mad at herself. And sad.

  I licked her hand. It was okay. We’d find him. Somehow we’d find him.

  We sat on the sand, huddled in the dark wind. My stitches felt tight. Achy. We were one dog down. Stranded. Upset. Going back past the house was too risky. We had to wait it out. I stared at the swirling water. I still had the smell of the man in my nose. Stuck, like a foxtail.

  What did The Mom say? Something about Ward. He’d never leave his money. He was greedy. Greed had a smell. It smelled like tuna and axle grease and onions. Woof. Ward wouldn�
�t leave his money. Couldn’t leave it.

  Maybe he didn’t.

  I sat on the sand with Dodge and Gatsby, wishing I could bury myself in it. I’d lost Hugo, jeopardized the case, and was stranded with two dogs — one injured and one ancient — on a cold, dark beach.

  Some detective I turned out to be. At the moment I felt more like a criminal.

  I was starting to wallow when Dodge sat down, leaning into my leg. I had Gatsby on the other side. I wasn’t alone. There was that. The lights hadn’t come on in the house, and I didn’t hear any sirens. So we appeared to be safe — for the moment. There was that, too.

  We sat for a good long time. Gatsby rested. Dodge stared at the sea. I worried about Hugo. After awhile Gatsby got up and sniffed out a trail on the sand. I had no idea what he was looking for, but at least one of us was looking.

  Next to me, Dodge watched the water like a statue. “What are you staring at?” I asked, stroking his soft ears. “It’s the same ocean it’s always been.”

  Gatsby ambled up and nosed my hand. I opened my palm and he dropped something into it. “Eww, Gatsby!” I said, feeling cold slime. I held my phone up and saw that it was a cigar butt. Gross. Dodge leaned in and took a sniff, then whimpered. Before I knew what was happening, he was off like a shot, sprinting toward the water.

  “Dodge?” I called, expecting him to stop at the shore.

  He didn’t even slow down.

  “Dodge!” He dove into the crashing waves. I leapt to my feet and chased after him, plunging knee deep into the freezing ocean. “Dodge, no!”

  I could barely see his figure in the moonlight, moving steadily away from the beach. He ducked a wave and came up again.

  “Dodge!” I screamed.

  I had no idea if he could hear me, but knew it didn’t matter. He wasn’t listening. My heart in my throat, I watched him swim farther and farther, picking up speed. And then, all of a sudden, he was caught in the riptide and moving faster than a dog could swim. A lot faster. He was swept out, away from me, beyond the breakers. A moment later he disappeared in the black water.