Cry Woof

by Sarah Hines-Stephens

  “That old witch will be sorry if she doesn’t keep those cats out of my yard!” a familiar voice suddenly screeched. My eyes flew open and I sat up fast. I’d been waiting to hear Madame LeFarge, but this was Erica Bloom!

  “If the authorities don’t take care of this problem, I will!” The fury in Erica’s voice made my heart race. She was serious — dead serious. I made a mental note to ask Mom if Erica was a frequent caller. I’d heard about the one incident with the cat poop, but that had been a while back. These files were recent.

  Then the next message came on. This time it was the voice I’d been waiting to hear — Madame LeFarge — and she was in a panic. “Someone is in my house!” she whispered, hoarse and frantic. Chills went up my spine — I could feel her fear. “There’s a person in my house!” she repeated desperately. Then the line clicked on the recording; that was it.

  I skipped back to listen to the time stamps on the call, and my already-racing heart thumped faster as I confirmed what I’d suspected. The call had been made last Friday night.

  The night Madame LeFarge died.

  I tried to wait for Cassie to get home. I really did. Even Bananas tried. But we were tired. Tired of sitting at home. Tired of The Cat. Tired of lying around. We needed to get out. Get some air. Get to sniffing.

  I never thought I’d say this about a cat, but The Kid was a good sniffer. She’d already sniffed out a meaty treat that’d been behind the stove for ages. Then she slipped back there to nab it. And she shared. We licked our chops and knew we’d done all we could in the house. School wasn’t out yet, but we needed to be.

  I hit the back-door latch and let The Kid go first. I didn’t think about the fence until we were both in the backyard. Aw, woof. I could clear the fence, no problem. I’d done it tons of times. But not with a cat on my back.

  I started to pace. I started to pant. The Kid kept cool as a collie. She had a plan. She prowled. She disappeared in the long grass along the inside of the fence — the part The Brother never mowed. She found a gap big enough to squeeze through. The Kid was out before I was!

  A running leap and I was at her side. I crouched low so she could climb onto my back, and we were off.

  I knew where I wanted to go. Back to Prospect Street — the scene of the crime. I wanted to scope things out. Dig up clues. Crack this case open. Cassie’d been searching for clues last night, with the buzzers in her ears and computer on her lap. We were making progress. Or she was. I wanted to pull my weight, too. But I didn’t do tech. I did down-and-dirty investigating. It was time for down and dirty.

  I tried to look casual, trotting up the sidewalk with a cat on my back. But it was hard to be low profile when you were toting a kitten. Luckily nobody seemed to be around. Doors were closed. Curtains were drawn. I didn’t even see any cars in driveways. I slowed before we got to the watcher’s house. Even if everyone else was at work, Kales would probably be out. Watching. He was always on his porch. Except today. Today Kales’s porch was empty. Maybe it had finally gotten too cold.

  The Kid jumped off her perch when we got close to her old house. She let out a sad “meowf.” I knew what she meant. It hurt to go back to the places your people used to be. I left her to prowl and headed toward the houses on the other side of Madame’s. I was a Labrador’s length from Heinz’s hedges when I got that same smell in my snout. Fish. Oily fish.

  I sniffed long and deep. The smell wasn’t coming from the dirt or the bushes. It was sort of … everywhere. It reminded me of that day on Heinz’s porch. With the flyers. He’d smelled like fish. And horseradish. He’d been smiley. Cassie thought he was nice. But there was something about the guy I didn’t like. He was too friendly. Twitchy eyed. Slippery. Yeah. Slippery. Like a fish.

  I checked Heinz’s porch. The side yards. Tried to get closer. No luck. No low windows. No way in.

  I sniffed Bloom’s yard next. It was fishy there, too. But different. The fishiness was mixed with other smells. Blood. Bone. Wood. Gardener smells. Gardeners liked to dig. They liked stinky stuff. They liked to dig stinky stuff in around their plants. Like the stuff from the bag in Erica’s trash. But that bag had been full. She wasn’t digging it into the dirt. She was giving it to the garbage truck.

  I sniffed around to the back of Bloom’s. I found an old ladder leaning against the fence. Right between Heinz’s yard and Bloom’s garden. I wanted to see what was on the other side. My choices were limited — over or under. Before I could decide, The Kid was there, scaling the fence like it was nothing. Woof. Built-in equipment.

  “Meowf!” Bananas called down. “Meowf! Meowf!” There was something on the other side she wanted me to see. Only I didn’t have equipment for over. I had equipment for under. And under wouldn’t be discreet. Under would leave evidence of our investigation.

  I’d have to go over, too. I eyed the ladder. Most dogs don’t do ladders. But I wasn’t most dogs. I’d learned how to climb at the academy. I was trained. It wasn’t easy, but I could do it.

  I moved slowly, paw over paw. I shifted my weight and placed my feet on the narrow rungs. Paw over paw over paw. I ignored the gaps. Then I was up. I could see.

  I peered into Heinz’s yard. It was full of stuff. Long, weedy grass. Rotting leaves. Moldy furniture. Trash. Lots of trash, like big cardboard boxes and Styrofoam packing.

  I looked at The Kid. Was this what she wanted to show me? She caught my eye, then turned back to the house. Finally I saw what she saw. An open window. A slightly open window.

  I let out a low “growf.” I couldn’t help it. I wanted to get into that house. I had a feeling in my whiskers. There was something in there I should see. Maybe that was what The Kid was thinking, too. She could probably fit through the window crack no problem. But she was just a kid. It wouldn’t be fair to send her in, especially alone.

  There was nothing else I could do here. Not without Cassie. I was about to climb down when The Kid leaped into the yard. She crouched low and prowled toward the window. What was she doing?

  I wanted to bark, to tell her to come back. But barking could’ve gotten us in trouble.

  I watched her creep through the grass. Barely disturbing a blade. She was good. Really good. Part of me wanted her to keep going. To get in. Another part didn’t. It was too dangerous. But it didn’t matter what my parts wanted. The Kid had her own ideas.

  She made it to the window and climbed right through. The tip of her tail disappeared and my tongue came out of my mouth. Nervous. I panted. Watched. Worried. My legs got shaky.

  It wasn’t easy for a dog to stay on a ladder. Even a trained dog. Even a top dog. I stayed, though. I waited. And watched. And worried.

  I heard a car roll into the driveway. Heinz’s car. Aw, woof. I couldn’t stay anymore. Staying would jeopardize everything. I scrambled down and got out of sight. I ended up in Banana’s shrub — the one she’d shared with Madame LeFarge. It smelled like falling leaves, Bananas, and Madame. The living Madame.

  I held perfectly still. Heinz got out of his car. My good ear twitched. He was whistling. Happy. Too happy? I hoped The Kid would come streaking out when he cracked the front door. She didn’t. The door opened. The door closed. Now Bill and Bananas were both inside! And I only trusted one of them.

  I lay down. I panted. I had to decide. Should I stay or should I go?

  My instincts said go — don’t get caught. My training said stay.

  I was well trained.

  I stayed.

  Bounding down the school steps, I glanced at my phone: 3:13. I wouldn’t be home for at least two more hours — maybe three. And I’d already been gone for almost seven! “Sorry, Dodge,” I murmured under my breath. I really was sorry, too. I felt bad for leaving Dodge and Bananas cooped up all day. But I had some super important stuff to do, and I was barely going to make it home for dinner — even with Hayley and Alicia’s help.

  “Okay, Cass, what’s our first stop?” Hayley asked as she unlocked her bike beside me.

  “Pet Rescue.”
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  Alicia and Hayley nodded in unison, looking super serious. They’d really gone out of their way to help me, and were stepping up yet again. “Right after we grab some smoothies at Hava Java,” I added. “On me.”

  “Yesss!” Alicia pumped her fist like she’d scored a goal, and we rolled off toward sweet sustenance. Two Mango Tangos and a Berry Me Sweetheart later, we arrived at PR.

  Hayley slurped the last bit of her smoothie as we pushed through the door. I looked around for the trash and felt a tug on my sleeve. “Isn’t that …” Hayley trailed off and I followed her gaze. What I saw made me stop in my tracks: Erica Bloom!

  The toxic gardener was talking to Gwen. I was aware, of course, that everyone was innocent until proven guilty. In my mind, however, I’d already decided that Erica was up to no good. She could try to hide it, but I’d heard the anger in her voice, seen the poison in her trash. She was a kitty killer, and who knew what else.

  “Thanks so much,” Erica said, smiling at Gwen. “I’ll be back for another visit tomorrow.” I felt my forehead wrinkle and quickly hid behind Hayley as Erica left the shelter.

  Inside, I was seething. Who, exactly, was she visiting? Was she here at PR to try to finish off the other cats? “What was that about?” I demanded as soon as Erica was gone.

  “Cassie!” Gwen beamed at me from behind the reception desk, not noticing that I was upset. Then she yowled. “Ow!”

  Something was struggling in her arms. Something orange and white and sharp. Bananas! Wait, what? “What’s she doing here?” I sputtered.

  The anger I’d been directing at Erica suddenly shifted. “Sam!” I spat my sister’s name like a curse. Sam was the only person in our house who’d bring Bananas back to PR. Apparently she’d only acted like she cared last night at dinner. She was obviously as anxious to get rid of the kitten as ever, and had brought Bananas in to spite me!

  “Whoa!” Gwen held up her scratched hand. “Take it easy, Cass. Sam didn’t bring Bananas in, that woman did.”

  “Erica Bloom?” I felt like I was losing my mind.

  “Yeah. She lives next to the LeFarge place and found Bananas in her backyard. She coaxed her into a crate with some tuna and brought her here to be with the rest of the cats.”

  I stared at Bananas, wishing she could tell me what the heck had happened. But the only one talking was Gwen.

  “Oh, and guess what? Your flyers are working! We’re getting adoption interest in Madame’s cats. Someone came in this morning and wants two, and Ms. Bloom is interested in three!”

  Hearing that, Bananas reached out a paw and scratched Gwen again. “Ow!” Gwen yelped. “How have you been living with this monster? Finding a home for you is not going to be easy,” she scolded, looking into the kitten’s green eyes.

  Bananas let out a plaintive mew, as if she understood.

  “You’re right about that,” I agreed. My anger was fading, but my suspicions about Erica weren’t.

  Gwen set Bananas on the ground. “Go ahead. Be free. I’m ready for a break from those talons!”

  Bananas mewed again and I swear the little cat gave her a smug look. Alicia cracked up. I might have laughed, too, but my mind was looping on something Gwen had said: Ms. Bloom is interested in three!

  “You know Erica is the woman who threatened Madame LeFarge and her cats, right?” I blurted. “I think she was trying to poison them. Dodge and I found evidence in her trash. She’s a total suspect in the Salt and Pepper murder!”

  Gwen, Hayley, and Alicia all looked stunned.

  “She hated Madame’s cats!” I insisted.

  “Her? Really?” Gwen was incredulous. “But Ginger responded better to her than she does to me, and she bonded with Cinnamon and Trouble, too.”

  “Trouble?” Alicia asked, smiling. “Is that a name?”

  “Yeah,” Gwen confirmed. “I was calling him Chili, but he’s always riling up the other cats, so I changed it.”

  I smiled at that. Gwen was great at naming animals. But my smile faded quickly, because the other thing Gwen was great at was reading people. She had a sixth sense about prospective pet owners and could tell who’d treat a pet like family and who’d get sick of caring for an animal once the cute factor wore off. She thought Erica was a candidate — a thought that didn’t mesh with anything I knew about her.

  It was possible Erica was trying to throw off suspicion by coming in and appearing concerned — like she did when she told me she missed Madame. But if that was it, she deserved an Academy Award for best actress.

  “Hey, don’t we have work to do?” Hayley asked, poking me in the ribs and pulling me out of my thoughts. My friends were standing by, waiting for instructions.

  “Oh, right. Sorry. Hayley and Alicia are helping out again today, okay?”

  “We’ll take all the assistance we can get!” Gwen said, getting on the intercom to call Taylor, another PR regular, to the front desk. A minute later Taylor loped in with two dogs on leashes. He flipped his dark curls and gave Alicia and Hayley a lazy smile.

  “I can help walk,” Hayley quickly volunteered. Alicia and I rolled our eyes as she headed out the door with the Quest High sophomore. Puppy love.

  Four hands were definitely better than two when it came to cleaning cat cages. Alicia and I worked well together, and quickly. Alicia didn’t complain, either. Okay, once I caught her pulling a face and wrinkling her nose while we were changing some especially stinky litter. But who could blame her?

  “I never said working at Pet Rescue was glamorous!” I joked.

  “I’ll take cuteness over glamour any day.” Alicia giggled, watching Ginger tenderly groom Parsley’s ear, and then playfully bite it.

  With the extra help I was finished at PR way faster than I would’ve been alone. Maybe too fast for Hayley. Alicia and I shared another eye roll as Hayley lingered over her good-bye with Taylor, and this time Hayley spotted our goofy expressions.

  “What?” she asked, all innocence. Which totally cracked us up, even Hayley. My best friend may have had a crush on Taylor, but, thank goodness, she was still her goofy self. I was smiling to myself when I remembered my next stop: the hospital to see Duke.

  “Do you want us to come with you?” Hayley asked. My grave expression had brought her down off her cloud, too.

  I shook my head. “No, I’m good. I’m going to have to fudge the truth to get in to see Duke without an adult. It’ll be easier if I’m alone.”

  Alicia nodded, and Hayley gave me a good-luck hug. “Text us later, ok?”

  “I’ll be holding my breath,” Alicia added.

  I grinned slyly. “Well, at least you got plenty of practice while we cleaned the litter boxes.” I pinched my nose to illustrate.

  Alicia groaned. “Don’t remind me!”

  I slung my backpack over my shoulders and we rode together for a little while, then split up when I turned toward Bellport General Hospital.

  It felt strange to ride alone. No friends. No Dodge. But after a few more turns I was rolling into the hospital parking lot. Relax, I told myself. Duke’s going to be fine. You got this. And I knew I did, but I couldn’t help thinking that I would feel a lot better if Dodge were with me.

  I sat under the bush for a long time. Waiting. Listening. Hoping. Okay, so maybe I fell asleep. For a second or two. Stakeouts have never been my thing — I’m a dog of action.

  When I woke up the light had changed. I couldn’t be sure if Bananas was still in Heinz’s house. What if she’d slipped out? What if she’d been caught?

  I hoped The Kid was okay. I hoped. I hoped. I hoped.

  I crawled out from under the bush to try to pick up a trail. My friend The Nose could have sniffed out The Kid in no time. The Nose was a basset — best sniffers in the business. Only he was getting up there in age. Spent a lot of time curled up in his window seat. Snoring. And anyway, he wasn’t here. I just had me. Me, my shepherd nose, and more cat trails than a porcupine had quills.

  I put my nose down. I sniffed. Here. Th
ere. I picked up one trail. Then another. And another. From Bloom’s to LeFarge’s to Heinz’s and back. The scent tracks crisscrossed all over the neighborhood. Too many of them. Woof. I was sniffing in circles.

  Too bad The Nose lived most of the way back home…. Home!

  Home gave me an idea. Maybe The Kid managed to slip out of Heinz’s but didn’t know I was waiting for her. Maybe she went where she thought she’d find me. Maybe she went home!

  I put my nose to the ground and smelled my way toward Salisbury Drive. I was happy to be moving, but my tail was low. I felt bad for putting The Kid in a dangerous situation. She’d jumped into the yard herself. She’d gone into the house alone. But I should have stopped her! I should have been her backup!

  I whined. I wished I’d stopped her. But I wasn’t even sure that I could have. The Kid had a mind of her own. And she was all claws when she was mad. My nose was proof of that!

  I bit back a whine and started to run. Please, I thought as I hurled myself toward home. Please, please, please let her be okay.

  Bellport General was an old brick building with a new glass-and-steel wing on one side. I rode up the path toward the facility feeling like I’d swallowed a frozen rock. I looked around for a bike rack by the entrance, to no avail. The realization that most people didn’t arrive at the hospital by bicycle made the cold rock in my gut expand. I locked my bike to a tree and forced myself to walk through the door.

  Inside the lobby, I was not-so-warmly welcomed by a woman at the information desk. Her stern, steady gaze didn’t shrink my tummy boulder a single bit.

  I gulped. “Hi. I’m here to see my uncle Duke. Duke MacLean.”

  She continued to stare. Silently.

  “It’s still visiting hours, right?” I squeaked.

  “Is there an adult with you?” she finally asked, looking past me.

  I nodded, maybe too much. “Yeah, my dad’s parking the car. He’ll be right in, but visiting hours end soon, and Uncle Duke is super lonely up there….” I hoped Duke’s room wasn’t on the ground floor. I wanted to sound like I knew my way around — like I’d been to see him before.