Hannah West: Sleuth on the Trail (Nancy Pearl's Book Crush Rediscoveries)

by Linda Johns

  This time it was my turn to listen to the messages again. People were worried about their dogs and didn’t want them out of their sight. But I still think two or three people had a tone of voice that was a bit accusatory. New girl arrives; dogs disappear. Never mind that Boris disappeared hours before we moved in. Or that he’d been returned.

  Speaking of which, I asked Mom if she’d heard anything from Ted about where Boris had been or who collected the reward money.

  “I’ve run into him a few times, but he’s always on his cell phone,” she said. “Come to think of it, a couple times he pulled the phone out when he saw me. Of course, it could have just rung.”

  I’d used that trick to avoid talking to people several times myself.

  For some reason, Ted didn’t want to tell us the details about Boris’s disappearance and return. Granted, we weren’t old friends or anything, but why would he pointedly avoid talking about it?

  I told myself that it was good that business had slowed down, although “screeched to a halt” would be a more accurate way to phrase it. I had an ultimate Frisbee tournament on Saturday that involved teams from half of Washington State. In fact, I was going to have to skip volunteering at the animal shelter this weekend. And, of course, there’s always that little thing called homework.

  Still, it was pretty depressing to think that my business had blossomed and died in the space of about forty-eight hours. I was down to just two dogs to walk after school on Friday. I called Nikki to make sure she wanted me to walk Archie.

  “Absolutely. He loves your afterschool walks,” she said. “Unless you don’t want to walk him anymore.” She sounded worried, as if I might not like her dog.

  “I love walking Archie. It’s just that, well, honestly, a few of my clients have canceled. I think they’re worried about the dognappings,” I said. “I mean, they have every right to be worried. But I don’t see how canceling an exercise date for your dog with someone as responsible as I am can help keep your dog safe. I just want to be sure that you feel okay leaving Archie with me.”

  Nikki laughed. “You don’t have to sell me on how responsible you are. To tell you the truth, all dog owners in the area are a little freaked out. I feel like more than ever I need someone who will keep an eye on my Archie. Don’t let people freaking out freak you out.”

  Nikki told me she’d set up an account with The Perfect Pet. “If you feel like taking Archie in for a nail trim one of these days, that would be great.”

  I put the finishing touches on a flyer for Daphne and e-mailed it to Jennifer. She was going to copy it and put it up right away, before people headed out to work the next morning. By the time I headed to the bus stop to catch the 28, there were orange flyers advertising Daphne’s disappearance in the places that Boris’s flyer once occupied. As my bus pulled away, I caught a glimpse of Jennifer coming out of Peet’s Coffee with Mack. They shook hands, and he did his customary tip-of-the-hat gesture.

  My cell phone vibrated almost immediately. I don’t like to talk on the phone when I’m on a bus, but I recognized Jennifer’s number.

  “Hello?” I whispered, trying to be discreet.

  “It’s Jennifer. Are you still at home? I need to make a change to the flyer,” she said. “It’s imperative that we make it clear that there is a significant reward for Daphne’s return.”

  I resisted the urge to ask how much “significant” equaled in terms of dollars, but not only was that none of my business, it wasn’t actually important. It’s just interesting that she’d so sorrowfully said the day before that she couldn’t offer a cash reward. In fact, she’d said that maybe she could scrounge up “fifty dollars or so after the weekend.” Why the sudden change? Had she sold a family heirloom or something?

  I told her I was already on a bus heading downtown.

  “That’s okay. I have a pen with me. Maybe I’ll get more attention if I add the note about the reward in handwriting.”

  “I could do it after school,” I offered.

  “No, thanks. I need to do it now. Ted made it pretty clear to me that the only way he got Boris back was because of the cash reward he offered. I’ve got to get started,” she said. “Thanks.”

  She hung up.

  Had Boris really been dognapped? Had the dognappers threatened to snatch him again? Maybe that’s why Ted was being so secretive about Boris’s return.

  I was glad he could give Jennifer some advice that might get her dog home sooner.

  CHAPTER 19

  IT RAINED ALL weekend, which made the all-day Frisbee tournament on Saturday a little less fun. But only a little less, because it was still superfun to get to play five games in one day. Winning four of those games added a little bit to the fun factor.

  Mom had the weekend off to watch my games and spend what she called “downtime” with me. Thanks to the steady supply of Seattle rain, we spent most of that downtime inside.

  By Sunday night, there was still no news about Daphne, even though Jennifer had made it abundantly clear that a reward was being offered. “Substantial REWARD!!” was written in bold, black marker on each of the orange signs.

  Maybe money wasn’t the answer.

  After dinner on Sunday, Mom and I took the dog out for a short walk, zigzagging our way back and forth through the main Fremont streets. We stopped at the steps of the Lenin statue for Elvis to do some extra sniffing. Having a statue of a former Communist leader on display as public art was controversial at first, but the general consensus now was that it was a beautifully crafted statue that ignited some healthy political conversations. At least that’s what I read in the History of Fremont Web page.

  A familiar-looking woman sat on a nearby bench, holding a red umbrella. I think she jinxed the weather because all of a sudden it started dumping rain.

  “Let’s get home!” Mom said. But Elvis took that exact moment to stop and, as they say, “do his business.” I waited patiently (or not so patiently) for him to finish, but Elvis was taking his time.

  As we watched, a man in a yellow rain slicker and matching rain hat approached her. The woman with the red umbrella stood up, and I thought again there was something familiar about her. The man reached out and they shook hands quickly. Then the woman stuffed her hands into her pockets, and the man quickly tucked his hands under his arms. Weird. Were they just trying to stay dry, or was there something else going on? The woman turned quickly, then scurried away in the rain. The man in the slicker looked toward us. I couldn’t see his face because his hat was pulled low. But I did see him reach up and move the brim up and down in one smooth motion, as if tipping his hat.

  “Was that Mack?” I said, voicing my thoughts out loud.

  At the same time, Mom said, “If I didn’t know better, I’d say that looked like a ransom drop.”

  The word ransom made me think of Jennifer and her urgency about the reward. Suddenly I realized why the woman with the umbrella had seemed familiar. I was pretty sure it was Jennifer.

  There was a loud clap of thunder, and it started raining even harder. Part of me wanted to stay to figure out what was really going on, but the more rational part of me was busy concentrating on getting out of the rain as quickly as possible.

  Back in Piper’s apartment, we sat at the kitchen counter drying off and sipping warm cups of peppermint tea. Mom refused to listen to my theories about the dognapping case. She was too busy enjoying the fact that someone named Mack was wearing what she called a “mack.” She said that was the word Brits used for a rubberized rain jacket. She started singing a song I recognized from the Beatles.

  Parents are so easily amused. And so weird.

  I went to bed, but I couldn’t stop thinking about Mack and Jennifer.

  That Wednesday, Lily came home with me after school. It was raining again, but this time it was a light rain, the kind of rain we get most often in Seattle. It’s not enough to deal with the hassle of an umbrella, but it’s a constant drizzle that’s less than pleasant. Elvis and Archie were wit
h us, and, true Seattle dogs that they are, they didn’t seem to mind the rain.

  “Let’s walk under the bridge for a ways to stay drier,” Lily suggested.

  “Whoa! I didn’t know he was going to be right here! I remember him totally freaking me out as a kid,” I said, as we walked toward the famous Fremont Troll. I hadn’t been to see it since we’d lived there, and it wasn’t because I was still scared. I had promised Mom that I wouldn’t go under the bridge alone, just in case an unsavory sort was hiding under there, but I don’t think she meant this piece of public art.

  “He’s not as scary close up as he used to be,” Lily said. “He’s actually almost cute. I was petrified of him when I was little.”

  I thought he still seemed pretty scary. The Fremont Troll is one of the more famous outdoor sculptures in the area. He’s pretty impressive, this shaggy-haired troll who seems to be crawling out of a cave under the bridge. He’s massive, but all you can really see is his craggy face and his enormous hands, one of which is crushing a real, honest-to-goodness Volkswagen Beetle. Not a replica of a Beetle, but a real car. When we were little, Lily and I used to dare each other to walk on the troll’s arm or touch his nose. Lily was right, though. He is kind of cute now, if you like the idea of a creature crushing a car.

  “Yo, Elvis! Over here!” Ben called from the other side of the troll’s hulking left arm.

  “Who’s his little pal?” Lily asked.

  She wasn’t talking about Scooter. Because walking on a leash next to Scooter was a little dog.

  I was pretty sure the little pal was Daphne.

  CHAPTER 20

  “IS THIS … ?” I started to ask.

  “Absolutely. It’s Daphne. My grandfather asked me to take her for a walk. I’m Ben, by the way,” he said to Lily.

  “I’m the sidekick, also known as Lily.”

  “How in the world did your grandfather end up with Daphne?” I asked.

  “I’m not exactly sure. But like I told you, Grandpa knows everybody. I think Jennifer asked him to keep an eye on Daphne while she went back to work.”

  “What did you find out about Daphne? How did Jennifer get her back? Where was she? What’s the story?”

  “I don’t know exactly. All I know is that Jennifer said she didn’t know what would have happened if she hadn’t been able to come up with the same reward money as Ted,” Ben said.

  Yeah, the money that I saw her give to Mack last night, I thought bitterly. But I didn’t want to say anything about the case until I had more evidence. So all I said was, “You didn’t ask?”

  “Uh-oh,” Lily said under her breath. “When you hang out with Hannah, it’s pretty much understood that you have to constantly assist with her cases.”

  “Cases? What are you talking about?” Ben asked.

  “There’s obviously a connection between the way the two dogs disappeared. Maybe there’s a connection in the way they were returned,” I said, talking a mile a minute. “But we don’t know that because no one is giving us any details on who returned the dogs or how they were returned.”

  We walked back down the hill, with the three dogs leading us to their favorite water dish in front of The Perfect Pet.

  “Maybe my grandfather knows what happened. I bet he can tell us something,” Ben said.

  We let the dogs finish their drinks, and then Ben started to lead Scooter down the street. “Let’s go over to Costas Opa,” Ben said.

  “Is it time for a lunch break?” Lily joked. “Maybe we should go to Norm’s so we can bring the dogs with us.” I had told Lily about how the restaurant actually encouraged dog owners to bring their furry friends in with them. I couldn’t tell if she believed me, or if she was testing Ben to see if I’d made the whole thing up.

  But Ben just laughed and shook his head. Before I could ask him why we were really going to Costas Opa, the door to the restaurant opened and Mack walked out.

  “Benito, my boy! Why don’t you walk an old man home?” he asked.

  “Sure, Grandpa,” Ben said.

  Then Mack turned to us. “Nice to see you, girls,” he said. Then, of course, he tipped his hat. He always does that. But this time I couldn’t smile in response. I was too dumbfounded.

  “What’s wrong with you?” Lily asked. I was still staring as Ben, his grandfather, and the two dogs all walked back up Fremont Avenue.

  “I didn’t know that was his grandfather,” I said, feeling incredibly stupid. Ben was always talking about how his grandpa knew everyone. I’d seen him at least twice with Mack. How clueless could I be?

  “How clueless can you be?” Lily asked for me. “I can’t believe you didn’t know that.”

  “You mean you knew that Mack was Ben’s grandfather?” I asked, a bit surprised.

  “Of course not! How would I know that?” Lily said with an exasperated tone. “But you’re a detective. You’re supposed to notice details like family relationships. But that doesn’t matter, does it?”

  Lily was right. At least on one account. I should have realized it sooner. I couldn’t believe that I hadn’t made such an obvious connection.

  But on the other hand, she was wrong. It did matter. How would Ben feel if his grandfather turned out to be a dognapper?

  CHAPTER 21

  BY FRIDAY I still hadn’t picked up any of my old clients. Both Boris and Daphne were home. No other dogs were missing. Yet people were still skeptical about me and my ability to take care of their dogs. Mom kept telling me not to take it personally. It was natural for them to worry about their pets.

  “They aren’t accusing you of anything,” Mom said. “But they might be worried that their pets will be more vulnerable if they’re with someone else.”

  Someone like Mack? I thought bitterly. But even though I had some strong suspicions about him, I couldn’t prove that he had done anything. And no one else seemed to be worried about him at all.

  Archie was a loyal client. On Friday, Elvis and I picked him up and brought him to The Perfect Pet. This time I was solo. No Lily. No Ben.

  “And how are Elvis and Archie today?” Mack asked when I ran into him outside the door. He bent down to pet each of the dogs. “I’m glad to see these two getting extra walks in the daytime. Not good for an animal to go all day without a walk. Not good for humans to go all day without a walk, either.” He tipped his hat and headed south on Fremont. I watched as he headed toward the canal. I had a pretty good idea that he was going to Costas Opa.

  “Is Meredith working today?” I asked as I walked into The Perfect Pet. Arlene, the owner, was at the counter, and her poodle, who I’d learned was actually named Cinnamon, lay on a small mat on the floor next to her.

  “She called in sick today,” Arlene said, with obvious irritation in her voice. “Terrible time to be short staffed. Fridays are always busy. But we can always squeeze in nail trims for these dignified gentlemen.”

  “Only for Archie, the bulldog. Meredith just trimmed Elvis’s nails.”

  I helped lift Archie onto the table. Arlene talked to him gently the whole time, telling him what a good boy he was. I helped distract him when she was working on his front paws.

  “I hope Meredith is better tomorrow. We both volunteer at Elliott Bay Animal Shelter on weekends,” I said. I’d missed last weekend and was looking forward to working at the shelter again.

  “Sure, Meredith calls in sick to work, but she’ll go off and donate her time to homeless animals,” Arlene said.

  I could tell she was more than a little ticked off. I decided to use the agreement technique to get her talking more. “It must be so hard to run a business under the best circumstances, but extraordinarily hard when an employee is sick.”

  “It sure is hard,” Arlene agreed. “It’s even hard sometimes when she is here. Nothing’s wrong with Meredith’s work, but her attitude is terrible. It seems like she’s angry at the dog owners who live around here. And lately she’s been acting as if she doesn’t even need a paying job.”

  Arl
ene’s last comment made me think. I knew Meredith didn’t get paid for her work at the shelter. So if she was acting like she didn’t need to get paid at The Perfect Pet, that could mean that she was getting money from somewhere else.

  Arlene’s voice interrupted my thoughts. “Okay, Archie. You’re ready to dance away the weekend.”

  I helped Archie down, and we went outside, where Elvis immediately started barking. At what, I don’t know. Have I mentioned that when a basset hound barks, it’s extremely loud? Once Elvis got going for a while, he’d lift his head to the sky and start howling.

  People called it a basset bray, but it sure sounded like a howl to me.

  “Hannah!” Elvis stopped howling when Ben called my name. I wasn’t used to seeing him without Scooter by his side. Elvis and Archie seemed disappointed.

  “Where’s Scooter?”

  “I can’t find him.” Ben looked seriously distressed.

  “Oh, no! Was he stolen?” Scooter was adorable, but he didn’t fit the profile of the little cute dogs that had been snatched in the past week.

  “I, I don’t know. I’ve looked all over for him, but I can’t find him anywhere. Can I use your cell phone to call my grandfather?”

  I tried not to eavesdrop as Ben filled Mack in on the situation. Then Ben handed the phone back to me, saying, “My grandfather wants me to come home so we can figure out what to do. Can you come? Maybe you can help make flyers or something.”

  I told Ben I’d need to call my mom and ask for permission. She wanted details, like she always did: address, phone number, and all that. I handed the phone to Ben and he rattled off a bunch of numbers. Mom said she’d let Nikki know that I was keeping Archie for a while longer.

  Ben and I practically raced up the street. Then up another. We were going up the steep hill and onto the street where that eccentric old guy is supposed to live. The wind kicked up a few notches, and the tree branches started whipping around. It made the huge beautiful house look old and creepy, just like a movie.