Ruff Way to Go

by Leslie O'Kane

  Trevor started to smile as if reassured, then glanced back at his former house cum murder scene. His eyes had widened with alarm when he faced me again. “You...found the body, didn’t you?” He took a step away from me, as if suddenly realizing that I was a possible suspect. Of course, I knew better, and his sudden dose of discomfort around me didn’t mean he was off my list, either.

  “Yes. And Shogun wasn’t there when I arrived.”

  “Are you positive that Shogun wasn’t with Edith when she got back home? Maybe in her car someplace?”

  “No, he couldn’t have been with her. The officers would have interviewed her, and she couldn’t have kept the dog hidden away that long.”

  He swept both hands back through his hair that, once again, was trying to fall into his eyes. “As I see it, there’re only two possibilities. Either Edith did this and is hiding the dog now for some reason, or somebody killed Cassandra and kidnapped my little dog.”

  “There’s a third possibility. The gate was left open. Under all the traumatic circumstances, Shogun might have just run off and hid someplace. If so, he’ll come back.”

  Trevor was already shaking his head. “He’s not the sort to do that. He always stays within hearing range of our voices. If you left the gate open while we were gone, he might go out, but he’d just sit on the front porch.”

  “Maybe with you and Edith separating, though, he wasn’t acting himself.”

  Trevor searched my eyes. “He’s a great little dog, but he’s not a champion show dog or anything. He’s not worth that much to anybody but me. Why would someone take him?” he asked as if my previous statement hadn’t registered. “Do you think they’re maybe going to try to ask me to pay ransom money?”

  “No. I just can’t believe anyone would do that, Trevor. Not when the person might be linked to the murder. It’d be too risky.”

  He nodded, his shoulders sagging. This was someone who struck me as totally devoted to his dog. Could I have gotten the scenario correct before, but with the wrong principal player? Trevor could have come looking for Shogun, found him badly injured or dead in a fight with Suds, and accidentally killed Cassandra when he meant to strike down Suds. That was far-fetched, but the very act of murder was so beyond my comprehension that any explanation would seem “far-fetched” to me.

  For obvious reasons, this was not the theory to volunteer at the moment. “How often has Shogun been to your new residence, Trevor? If he really did feel closer to you than to Edith, maybe he’s on his way there now.”

  He brightened a little at that prospect. “He’s been at my condo at least half a dozen times. Do you think he could find his way all the way there?”

  “Maybe.” In truth, it was only a remote possibility, but certainly not out of the question. I’d heard of instances where dogs managed to travel hundreds of miles to reunite with their owners.

  Just then, an avocado-colored Volvo pulled up that I recognized as belonging to Russell Greene, my officemate. Suddenly our house was turning into Grand Central Station.

  A couple of months earlier, when I first moved back to Colorado, Russell had rented the front room of his two-office suite to me. He also had a crush on me, which I was recently beginning to reciprocate. We’d been out on a couple of dates and enjoyed each other’s company. We seemed to have considerably different interests, but he was such a decent, caring person that I couldn’t help but be attracted to him.

  He got out of the car, smoothing his dark mustache. As always, he was nicely dressed, wearing dark slacks, a royal blue silk tie, and a striped shirt. He was short, which made us nicely matched, and had a well-proportioned, compact build. In a land of midgets, he and I could rule the world, but as it was, people kept flashing us annoying what-a-cute-couple grins when they saw us together.

  He gave me a nervous smile as he jogged up our steps, and I suddenly remembered that he wasn’t simply dropping by unannounced. Damn it all! We had a date tonight!

  He held a hand out to Trevor, who’d paused before making his departure as if to learn the identity of my visitor. “Hi. Russell Greene.”

  “Trevor Cunningham.” He hesitated. When neither of us spoke, he forced a smile. “Guess I’ve taken up enough of your time, Allida. I just...” He ran his hand through his unruly hair. “If you hear anything, if he comes back, please let me know.”

  “I will.”

  “Have a good evening.”

  “Call me if he’s at your place when you get back.”

  Trevor nodded, then got into his car and drove away.

  We watched him go. “Missing dog?” Russell correctly surmised.

  “Yes, under excruciating circumstances. My neighbor was murdered a few hours ago in Trevor’s backyard, and the dog apparently ran off.”

  “Your neighbor was murdered! Oh, my God. I’m sorry, Allida.” He turned to face the Cunninghams’ house. “I wondered what all of the police-scene tape was for.” He searched my face, his own expression downhearted. “I guess we should take a rain check on our date, huh?”

  His willingness to postpone our date made me less eager to desert the idea myself. I suspected that curious friends and acquaintances would be calling constantly tonight, as soon as word got out that there was a murder in Berthoud. Staying home and fielding those calls was infinitely less appealing than being wined and dined by Russell. “No, but I’ll need some time to get ready.”

  “You look…great the way you are. Don’t feel you need to change on my account.”

  This was truly generous of him, as I was wearing the khakis and simple blue cotton blouse that my mother had brought to me at the police station.

  “Russell, hello,” Mom exclaimed from behind me. She was smiling broadly and rushed up to greet him. She and I hadn’t discussed the topic, but Mom seemed to have a closer affinity for Russell than for any other man I’d dated. I suspected that was largely because he was the antithesis of my former fiance in so many ways. That one factor scored huge bonus points with Mom, as well as with me. “I didn’t realize you two had a date tonight.”

  “How are you, Mrs. Babcock?”

  “For heaven’s sake. You don’t need to be so formal. Please. Call me Marilyn.”

  At least she hadn’t suggested he call her “Mom.” Come to think of it, this date wasn’t well timed for Mom’s sake.

  “Oh, Mom. I just realized you shouldn’t be home alone after what just happened. Maybe I should—”

  “Don’t be silly. The police will be all over the neighborhood. This’ll be the safest block in the country tonight. You two go and have fun.”

  We went back and forth on the issue for a short time, but I actually agreed with her assessment of her safety. I fetched my purse, said goodbye to the dogs, then joined Russell and Mom on the front porch.

  “I’ll have her back home safe and sound in a couple of hours, Marilyn.”

  She gave him a frighteningly warm smile, her dark eyes positively sparkling with motherly joy. “Keep her out as long as you like, Russ.”

  I felt my cheeks warming and headed down the walkway ahead of Russell in an attempt to end this conversation as quickly as possible. Ever the gentleman, Russell outraced me and opened the door for me. I could feel Mom watching me as I fastened my seat belt.

  This entire incident served as a timely reminder not to dally too long before looking for a new place to live. Despite the disaster my first Boulder rental had been—I’d accidentally rented a room from a lunatic—the bottom line was that I was too old to be getting a parental send-off for dates. Russell gave her a cheerful wave, which I was disinclined to second, and we left.

  We’d barely turned the corner before Russell asked, “Do the police have any prime suspects?”

  “At least one.” Not wanting to risk slipping into a morass of self pity, I didn’t let on that I was referring to myself.

  “Do you think it could have been one of your neighbors? Such as that guy you were just talking to?”

  “It’s possible, I gues
s.” Actually, it was more than a mere “possible”—more on the order of “likely”—but Russell’s face paled visibly even at that. His obvious fear for my safety made me reach for other theories. “It could somehow be tied in with Cassandra’s adopted dog. The owner of the mother dog wants her back once he’s out of jail. Maybe this was a career criminal who hired a buddy to go get his dog back, and the guy accidentally hit her too hard.”

  “You think somebody might have killed a person over a dog?”

  I couldn’t help it; I tensed and glared at Russell for saying the word “dog” as I might say “cockroach.”

  He cleared his throat, then asked quickly, “Was she a friend of yours?”

  “No, I’m not as... extroverted as I wish I were. Maybe if I’d been more aware of everyone’s comings and goings...Oh, I don’t know. There’s no way I’m going to figure this thing out. I’ll just have to trust that it’s an isolated incident, because otherwise, Mom and I are right across the street, like a pair of proverbial sitting ducks.”

  We formed an unspoken agreement to change subjects at that point and made small talk instead. We reached the northern side of Main Street in Longmont and stopped for a red light. A small dog caught my eye just as we were crossing the intersection. He was running alone down the shadowy sidewalk, heading away from us.

  “Turn right! Follow that dog!”

  My cry had come too late for us to make the turn safely. Russell hit the brakes, which set off a cacophony of honking horns behind us.

  “What dog? I don’t see a dog!” Russell blurted over the noise of his squealing tires from his sudden hard right turn. We managed to squeeze into the street that the dog had run down without causing a fender bender, but I was already too focused on catching sight of the dog again to feel as grateful, or as contrite, as I probably should have.

  “I thought I saw Shogun. The dog that’s missing.”

  “Way out here in Longmont?”

  “This isn’t too far for a dog to have gotten on foot in several hours. He could have come looking for Trevor, his owner.”

  I strained my eyes and made a constant sweep of vision as we slowly drove ahead. It was getting hard to see in the rapidly darkening evening. There was no sign of the dog and our search was probably futile.

  Just then I saw the dog darting around the corner ahead of us. “There he goes! Down that alley!”

  “It’s one-way the other direction,” Russell pointed out as he drove past the alley. I craned my neck to get a better look at the dog and was certain it was some breed of long-haired terrier.

  “I’ve got to get him. Even if it’s not Shogun, he could get hit by a car. Let me out of the car.”

  Russell signaled and pulled out of traffic. “I can’t park here. I’ll go find a space and come help,” he said while I scrambled out of the car.

  I ran down the alley. Though it was, thankfully, reasonably well lit by the outdoor lights on the back of the buildings, the dog was already out of sight once again.

  I’d gotten halfway down the narrow alley when someone suddenly stepped out from behind a dumpster. I gasped and automatically jumped back.

  The man grabbed my wrist.

  Chapter 4

  I choked back a scream.

  The man who grabbed my arm was not much taller than Russell—roughly five-foot-six. Unlike Russell, this man had been looking up at life from the bottom of the drain for quite a while now. His clothes were filthy and in tatters, his dark hair matted, and his leathery skin smeared with dirt.

  “Hey, little girly,” he said, leering at my chest. “You got any money?”

  I twisted my arm around so fast that I wrenched it free from his grasp. “No, and I don’t have time for this right now,” I said with deliberate attitude. If there was anything I’d learned from being a petite woman who often works with large, aggressive dogs, it was that you can’t gain dominance by letting yourself show fear. “I’m trying to find a dog I saw run this direction.”

  I took a step deeper into the alley, but he stepped sideways, blocking my path. This time, at least, he didn’t touch me. “You mean the little mutt? Charlie?”

  As he spoke, I got a disgusting whiff of alcohol on the man’s breath. I had to get out of here. The dog was probably not Shogun in the first place.

  Feigning a casualness I didn’t feel, I asked, “You know the dog I’m talking about?”

  The man tried to muster some dignity and self-confidence by squaring his shoulders and meeting my eyes. His were bloodshot and red-rimmed. “Yeah. The one that jus’ run by me, right? He’s just a stray, but I got to callin’ him Charlie.”

  “I doubt we’re talking about the same dog. This one looked to me to be a full bred terrier.” In truth, I hadn’t been close enough to conclude any such thing, but had gotten the impression that this dog was too healthy to have been a stray.

  “Naw. He’s jus’ a mutt. Tell ya what, though. Seein’ as you want him so bad, how’s ‘bout I sell him to you for twenty bucks?” He took a step in that direction and had a glint in his eye that worried me.

  “Um, okay. I’ll go get some money.”

  “Meet you back here in jus’ a minute, then,” the man said, then took off down the alley.

  I turned and headed the other direction. I wasn’t about to wait around and find out what his intentions were. Bravura’s one thing, but out-and-out stupidity is quite another. For all I knew, he’d come back with another man or two.

  Russell met me before I’d gotten all the way out of the alley. I breathed a little easier at the sight of him.

  In a tribute to his superior planning skills, he’d brought a flashlight. “Couldn’t find the dog?” he asked.

  “No, and what’s worse, I ran into someone who apparently makes this alley his home. He says he’ll sell me the dog for twenty dollars.”

  “Hmm. Well, if it turns out the dog is Shogun, I’ll give him the money.”

  “That’s generous of you, except we might get knifed in the process.” I gestured at our surroundings, deserted except for the cars that were streaming past on the adjoining street. “This isn’t exactly a safe house for business dealings.”

  “True.” He held out his keys to me. “The car is parked a block and a half from here, just off of Fifth Avenue. Why don’t you go and wait for me there? I’ll bring the dog, if the guy comes back with him.”

  This was an extremely magnanimous suggestion on his part, as Russell has a substantial fear of dogs.

  “No, Russell. We either both wait or we both leave. I’m not going to get you into a potentially dangerous situation and then wait demurely in your car to see if you come through it safely.”

  “Then we’ll wait here. Otherwise we’ll probably never know for sure if this is the dog you’re looking for or not.”

  My heartbeat had returned to normal, and I felt safe with Russell, even in this setting. “Okay.” I turned on Russell’s flashlight and trained the beam along the general area the dog had been running. “I suspect he’ll come back with some stray dog instead. Still, it’s worth twenty dollars to me to get a stray off the street and safe at the animal shelter.” I grinned and joked, “Especially since it’s your money.”

  There was a puddle nearby, and fortunately, the dog had run directly through it. I circled a wet paw print with my fingers. As far as I could recall, it was approximately the size of the prints on Edith’s deck. This verified to me that a small terrier could have left those prints, as could one of the puppies.

  Russell watched me with a furrowed brow, but made no comment.

  We both straightened at the sound of footfalls approaching up ahead. I felt Russell stiffen at the frightening appearance of the man who’d grabbed me. He’d returned, empty-handed. He sneered at Russell, then focused on me. “Okay. I got the dog in a box for you, right around the corner. Got my twenty bucks?”

  “Give us the dog and we’ll give you the money,” Russell said logically.

  The man shook his head. “Naw.
I ain’t gonna let you see the dog till I get paid for him. If it ain’t him, you still owe me, and I got no guarantee your girlfriend here will live up to her end of the deal. Give me the money up front or else no dog.”

  Russell got out his wallet. “Here’s a five. You’ll get the rest when you bring the dog.”

  He frowned, stared at the bill in his hand then shoved it into a pocket. “Okay. Be right back. Wait here.”

  The man took a couple of casual steps then broke into a run.

  Russell sighed, then looked at me. “Thought so. He hasn’t got the dog, and we just got scammed. I just played along in the hopes that he’ll use the money to get himself a decent meal.”

  More likely he’d use it to buy booze, but I didn’t want to dampen Russell’s optimism. I focused the beam at the wet tracks, growing fainter as they were farther away from the puddle.

  Russell said, “Let’s try to track the dog and see if it’s Shogun.”

  “Thanks. I’m sure you’d rather we head to the restaurant, but I really do want to see if I can locate this dog.”

  He grinned and took my hand. “Actually, it doesn’t matter to me what we’re doing, so long as I’m with you.”

  My cheeks warmed, but not merely from embarrassment at Russell’s kind words. I’d had more of a reaction to Russell’s simply holding my hand than I would have liked. Certainly more than I would have admitted to him. I was still very unsure of whether or not it made much sense for me to pursue a relationship with someone who seemed to have so little in common with me. This vague sensation that my hand somehow felt right in his wasn’t going to count for much a few years down the line.

  The last time, I reminded myself, I’d made the mistake of letting my heart run roughshod over my brain I’d been all but destroyed. My fiance ran off with my maid of honor. Nothing of the sort was ever going to happen to me again.

  We kept up a brisk pace, worried that the wet prints would evaporate, but there seemed to be enough puddles that the dog had run through to keep us on target. The man and Russell’s money, on the other hand, seemed to be long gone. We managed to track the dog across three blocks, till we reached an impasse at a loose board in a gate on someone’s property, which the dog had squeezed through.