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Cry Woof

Page 1

by Sarah Hines-Stephens




  Contents

  Title Page

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Also by Dodge and Cassie’s adventures!

  Also Available

  Copyright

  The doors to the Bellport Police Station whooshed open, and Dodge and I stepped inside. “Hey, guys,” Deb Brubaker, the dark-haired dispatcher, greeted from behind her desk. “What’s doing?”

  Dodge let out a little bark in response — a friendly hello — and I reached down to give him a pat.

  “We just thought we’d drop by, say hi to Mom,” I replied with a shrug, even though that wasn’t exactly true. Dodge and I didn’t ever just “drop by,” especially at the station. We were detectives — always alert, always looking for clues, always sniffing out information. Especially Dodge. My ninety-pound German shepherd had a nose for trouble, and could sniff out anything.

  Deb nodded and we moved into the big open room with the cubicles, heading for Mom’s office. Mom was chief of the Bellport police force, the boss of everyone in the station. She used to be Dodge’s boss, too, before he lost his job. My partner wasn’t just any dog — he was a trained K-9. He’d served on the Bellport force for several years, and his first partner was one of the best cops in the unit, my uncle Mark. But about a year ago a deadly on-the-job explosion killed my uncle. He was gone, just like that. And so was half of Dodge’s hearing, and his job. My poor pooch went from the top of the heap to the bottom — partnerless, homeless, jobless. Ka-boom! The only silver lining was that those nightmarish events led Dodge to me.

  When we lost Uncle Mark, my whole family sort of fell apart. Nobody knew what to do or how to be. Then Dodge came to live with us, and little by little, we got better. We kept going. I can’t speak for every Sullivan, but Dodge definitely saved me. When he moved in he gave me a reason to get up in the morning. He gave me his friendship. His trust. His loyalty. His love. Not to mention the fact that he seriously improved my detective skills.

  Just remembering losing Uncle Mark was awful, and made my hand automatically drop into Dodge’s fur for comfort. Sensing that my thoughts were wandering (reading my mind was a thing he just did), Dodge nosed my palm. I knew what he was thinking, too — time to get sleuthing. He led the way to Mom’s office door.

  Before we set foot inside the office, we knew two things: Mom was at her desk, and she was talking to someone. A look around the edge of the door revealed that she was on the phone. But the question remained — who was she talking to?

  Mom raised a finger to let us know she saw us and needed a minute. Dodge crossed to the desk for a scratch while I pretended to be interested in the awards on the wall. I glanced back at Mom. She held the receiver away from her ear for a moment and gave it a look that spoke volumes. She had that “I’m too busy for this” expression — the person on the other end was wasting her time. I knew that expression all too well. Mom always had a ton to do, at home and at work. Being chief was a really big job.

  I didn’t mind that Mom was busy; it gave me a chance to poke around. There were always interesting things to find in the police chief’s office. After I “examined” the walls — there was a new picture of Mom posing with a class of third graders — I moved on to the desk. It was piled high with work. It looked messy, but knowing Mom, there was a system. A stack of newspapers teetering on the corner caught my eye and I scanned some headlines. There wasn’t much of interest, just some mundane articles about gas prices, an upcoming election, and — oh! the sentencing of former Mayor Baudry — the result of our most recently cracked case! Dodge’s snout sniffed the edge of the newspaper and I ruffled his ears. He couldn’t read, of course. But sometimes it seemed like he could sniff essential information right off a page.

  “Yes, Madame,” Mom said in her patient voice. I could hear the sigh behind it. “Yes, I’m sure that was alarming for you.”

  I half smiled and half grimaced as I realized that she was talking to Madame LeFarge. Mom said that every town had a crazy cat lady, and Madame LeFarge was ours. Madame called the station almost daily, bothering the officers with silly complaints and paranoid ideas. She was absolutely certain that everyone in Bellport was against her. Totally untrue, of course. Mom wasn’t against her. I wasn’t against her. Dodge wasn’t against her….

  Hmmm. I thought about that while Dodge interrogated Mom’s trash can with his snout. Dodge wasn’t against Madame, but he was against her cats. There were a lot of them, some rumored to be as crazy as Madame herself.

  “I’ll look into it,” Mom said, her sigh escaping. “Thank you for calling.”

  She set the phone down on the charger with an emphatic plunk. “Hi, guys,” she said. “Never a dull moment… .” She pressed a button on her intercom. “Deb, could you arrange to have someone swing by Madame LeFarge’s a little later? Maybe in a couple of hours? We don’t want the woman thinking we’re at her beck and call….”

  “Sure thing, Chief,” Deb replied.

  Mom disconnected and called to her assistant, Chase Langtree. Officer Langtree’s broad shoulders arrived in her door frame in two seconds. “Hey, Cassie! Hi, Dodge!” he greeted, turning quickly to Mom. “You need something, Chief?”

  Mom nodded. “Find out how Madame LeFarge got my direct line. I thought we took care of that….”

  Officer Langtree’s green eyes were apologetic. “Sorry, Chief. I thought we did, too. I’ll get on it.”

  I was petting Dodge and listening when Hero, Dodge’s K-9 replacement on the force, walked into Mom’s office. That might not sound like a miracle, but it was. When he first started at the station Hero was totally hyper, and until very recently — like right this second — he acted like a ridiculous puppy whenever Dodge was within sniffing distance (which, I might add, is a looong way for a dog). He’d whine, fidget, bow, wag, drool, you name it. He never just walked….

  At first Dodge and I didn’t think there was any hope for the trainee. At all. But Hero and his police partner, Hank Riley, had provided essential backup on our last mission — the mission to end Mom’s suspension from the force and bring in the crooks who killed Uncle Mark.

  The night that all went down, Hero showed that he might have what it takes to be a great K-9 cop. Of course, he was still a rookie. It would take time for him to become the pro that Dodge was (and still is, unofficially). But Dodge and I both had to admit that Hero was earning his stripes.

  “Hey, Hero,” I said, still marveling that he wasn’t knocking Dodge over. “How’s it going?”

  Hero gave me a pathetic look and dropped his head, wagging slowly.

  Officer Langtree chuckled. “Not so good for our Hero. Riley’s out of town, so he’s been stuck in the office since yesterday afternoon. Riley’ll be back later tonight, but …”

  “Awww.” My heart went out to the poor pup. N
o wonder he’d lost his wag. I bent down to gaze into his eyes. They weren’t as dark as Dodge’s, but they managed to convey every morsel of his misery. “Hey, boy, do you want to come home with us for a while?” I asked. Hero’s tail lifted and he managed a slow wag; he definitely liked the idea. It wasn’t going to go over big with Dodge, but I couldn’t leave Hero cooped up at the station without his partner, could I?

  I felt Dodge staring before I even turned around. The look he gave me was major, like I’d just told him we were out of kibble. Permanently. “Just for a little,” I assured him, looking back to the rookie.

  “Wanna?” I asked Hero again.

  Hero let out a happy bark and scooted backward, his wag picking up speed. I gave Dodge an apologetic smile. We had company. “Well, all right, let’s go!”

  I stared at Cassie, hoping she’d get the message. The “I don’t want to hang out with Hero” message. Hero wasn’t my pal. Or my partner. He was my replacement, for dog’s sake!

  But what did Cassie do? She ignored me! Not completely, but enough. Hero was coming with us. Woof.

  I sat on my haunches and tried not to feel sorry for myself. Tried to think of good stuff. Like the yogurt lid I’d found in The Chief’s trash. The one nobody saw me lick. I ran my tongue over my chops. Still tangy.

  I wasn’t happy to be leaving the station with Hero. Even if the whelp was learning. Even if he did help us out on our last case. He was still Hero. Still my replacement. Still an undignified pup.

  “Let’s go, team!” Cassie called cheerfully. Too cheerfully. We were not a team. But I went.

  I couldn’t blame Cassie. Or stay mad at her for long. Once my girl sank her teeth into an idea nobody could make her drop it — not even me. It was like barking up the wrong tree. A waste of time and woof power. And she couldn’t help looking out for Hero, either. Cassie loved animals. Dogs in particular. That was why she worked at Pet Rescue after school. That was what made her a great human. Trouble was, she was my human. And I wasn’t so big on sharing — especially with Hero.

  I followed Cassie and Hero with my tail low. I caught up just as they headed out the door, and slid between them. I didn’t want Hero to think he could claim my spot beside Cassie. It was bad enough that he was a temporary pack mate.

  I shook off the bad feeling as best I could and raised my nose to the air. Cassie clipped on our leashes. (Hero’s fault; I almost never wore a leash.) I remembered where we were going. I’d been listening at the station. I knew whose voice was buzzing in The Chief’s ears. Madame LeFarge, the loon without feathers. The woman with thirteen cats. Thirteen yowling, smelly, useless cats! I pulled Cassie down the street toward the action.

  “Dodge, no!” Cassie said, calling me back.

  No? I stopped and turned. I saw Hero sitting calmly on the sidewalk. Since when did he do that?

  My girl took a step closer and crouched. Looked me in the eye. “We’ve got to make our rounds,” she said.

  I had lots of rounds. Nightly rounds. “When Cassie was at school” rounds. Rounds with Cassie. But she wanted to make our rounds with Hero? Was she kidding?

  “The seniors are waiting,” she said.

  Woof. Not kidding. And woof. The old-timers at Home Away from Home. Home Away was a den for older humans. Part of our weekly rounds. They loved it when Cassie and I visited. It perked them up. I loved it when we visited, too. Extra petting. And extra treats. Mmmmm. Treats. I loved treats. Treats were my favorite. I wagged.

  Hero “wroofed.” He probably loved treats, too. After all, he was a dog. But I didn’t want to share my treats any more than I wanted to share my girl.

  I stopped wagging. Cassie ruffled my fur and gazed right at me. “I know you weren’t expecting to spend the afternoon with Hero. But he deserves a little break from the station, and I need you to rally. Okay?”

  I licked her hand to show her I was in. I wasn’t happy, but I was in. And maybe, just maybe, I’d share my crumbs.

  When we got to Home Away, the old-timers were in good spirits. One of my favorites, Duke MacLean, almost tackled me when we came through the door.

  “Hey, Dodge!” He swooped in and grabbed me in a bear hug. Practically knocked me over. I stood my ground, though. Couldn’t have the old geezer tackling me in front of the rookie. “How about a wrestle?” Duke asked.

  Wrestle? Duke didn’t wrestle. He tottered. I sat down to show him I wasn’t playing. I dug Duke, I really did. He was completely bald. Smelled like coffee and grapefruit. Plus he knew how to pet a dog. Only he wasn’t talking about petting. More like attacking. In a friendly way. Yeah. He wanted to play ruff. Which was fun except I didn’t want to hurt the guy. He was old. And I had to set an example. For Hero. I looked over my shoulder and saw that Hero was following my lead. Sitting politely on his haunches. Miraculous.

  “Okay, then.” Duke took a swig of water. Then he dropped to the ground and started doing push-ups. “I haven’t felt this good since the seventies!” he barked.

  I let out a bark of my own and Esther looked up from her knitting. Esther was round and smelled like talcum powder and rose petals. She snorted a little whenever she laughed, which was a lot. She also had the best snacks in the place. Mmmmm. Snacks. I loved snacks.

  I strolled over to Esther and licked her hand. It tasted like peanut butter. “Hello, Dodge,” she said, stroking my bad ear. “Who’s your friend?”

  Cassie was still watching Duke. “You’re fired up today. What’s your secret?” she asked.

  Duke hopped to his feet and winked at Cassie. Then he reached into his pocket and pulled out a bottle. “These little miracles,” he said. He shook the bottle. It rattled like coffee beans in a can.

  “They’re called Pepper-Uppers!” Paul said as he ambled into the rec room. Paul was tall, skinny, and had the shakes. Maybe that was why he wore too much aftershave. He sat down in a chair beside Esther and smiled contentedly. “They’re new senior supplements,” he explained.

  “Maximum omega-3 available!” Duke howled. “We’ve been giving them a trial run, and we like them so much we bought the company!” He sounded like the voices on TV commercials. Sold.

  “Wow,” Cassie said with a nod. “You’re a great spokesman.”

  Paul raised a shaky hand. “That’s the idea. The patent is pending, so we have exclusive access.”

  “They’ve changed my life,” Duke declared as he popped off the lid and downed a few see-through ovals. He was acting like an excited puppy, and I was happy for the old guy. Awoof! No perking up needed today!

  Next to me, Hero sniffed the carpet for dropped food. I sat down and turned my gaze on Esther. Waited patiently for her to bust out the good snacks. She kept oyster crackers and Peanut Butter Buddies in her purse. But sometimes she forgot how much I loved them. Or that they were there.

  “Oh, Dodge. It’s so good to see you,” she whispered, still stroking my ear. Her fingers were soft and gentle.

  “So you bought the Pepper-Uppers company?” Cassie was still questioning.

  “Well, no. Not exactly,” Paul replied. “But we did invest our retirement funds. I put in half my savings!”

  “We’re going to sell these beauties to other seniors,” Duke explained. “We’ll double our money in no time. Then we can get a pool put in here.”

  “And a hot tub,” Paul added. He patted Esther’s knee with a trembling hand.

  I nosed Esther’s purse to remind her about the goods at the bottom. She reached in and pulled out a package. Woof! Peanut Butter Buddies! I tried not to drool while she opened the plastic and dropped a couple on the ground. I started crunching them down. Peanut butter goodness! I was about to lick the crumbs when I heard Cassie gently clearing her throat. Aw, woof. I had to do the right thing. I stepped aside and let Hero lick the crumbs. But I didn’t like it.

  “Thank you for coming,” Esther said with a warm smile. “It’s always so nice to see you.” It was time to go, even if Duke wasn’t finished trying to break his chin-up record in the Home
Away courtyard.

  “See you next week!” I called as the dogs started to pull on their leashes. Within seconds the two big shepherds were yanking me down the street. I knew I could get them on a heel — or Dodge, at least — but decided not to bother. Dodge was intent on getting to our next destination — a destination he’d had in mind since our stop at the station.

  I could tell by his twitching ear that my dog had been listening in on Mom’s telephone conversation. Dodge was always listening. That was part of what made him such a great detective. The two of us thought alike, and right now we were thinking about a visit to Madame LeFarge’s. The old cat lady may have invented most of what she reported, but a stop at her house was never boring.

  Of course, we’d have to keep an eye out for Bellport police officers. Mom had told me a billion times to stay away from Prospect Street, and especially Madame LeFarge. She was not someone the force wanted riled up. But could I help it if Dodge and Hero were dragging me there? They were pulling so hard I was sure I’d end up with gorilla arms.

  “Woof!” Dodge barked, turning back to me for a quick second. He was asking to be let off his leash. The two of us rarely even used a leash, and right now it was cramping his style. He wanted to be free. Problem was, I didn’t know Hero well enough to let them loose.

  “Sorry, boy,” I told him. “I’ve got to keep you two under control.”

  Dodge gave me a look, and I felt a twinge of guilt. He was often more in control than I was, and definitely better trained. “I know,” I told him. “But thirteen cats are enough to make even the sanest dog crazy. Heck, maybe all of those cats are the reason Madame is so nuts!”

  I snorted at my own joke. Madame. Ha! She was certifiably cuckoo. Even her name was wacky. I mean, pardonnez-moi, who goes by “Madame”? The old lady might have been French but was surely out of her head. Mom called her the town eccentric because as a Bellport official it was her job to be respectful. The rest of us just called her crazy.

  As we turned onto Prospect Street the dogs strained even harder. “Easy, boys,” I told them. I could see Madame’s blue-shingled house with its turret and stained-glass windows up ahead. I could also see that something was going on — a cluster of people was gathered on the sidewalk. Madame was probably stirring up a pot of trouble, her specialty.

 

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