Ari hugged the driver. Mim recognized her right away, although her scarf was pulled high and her hat pulled low. The giveaway was the tall black dog at her side. It was Bridget Linsmore, Dorset Hills’ legendary dog rescuer and matchmaker. They’d never formally met, but Mim had gone to Bridget’s Thanksgiving Rescue Dog Pageant a few times over the years.
Ari introduced Bridget, who in turn introduced her dog Beau, and then her human friends—in that order. The pretty redhead was Andrea, who went by “Duff,” the dark-haired woman was Nika, and the tall blond was Maisie, who looked like the angels banned from Dorset Hills’ yards.
The last woman to hop out was petite and slim, even in a parka, and she moved to the front of the group.
“Cori Hogan,” she said, offering her hand. The middle finger of each of her black gloves was neon orange. “We’re here to help you look for George.”
“I’m so sorry he’s gone missing,” Duff said. “You must be distraught.”
Mim nodded, unable to speak.
“Let’s get organized,” Cori said, and her friends seemed to assume she’d be taking the lead. “We’ll start in the yard and work our way out.”
“We’ve already covered the whole neighborhood,” Ari said.
Cori pushed back her hat so she could target Ari with a stare. “Not with us. We have expertise in this line of work.”
Maisie’s wide smile appeared over her scarf. “We’re like Charlie’s Angels.”
“Or the Avengers,” Nika said, cocking one gloved hand like a gun. “But we only work for dogs.”
Mim smiled. “Sounds like I’m in good mittens.”
“Let’s deploy,” Cori said, leading the way around Mim’s house. It was as if she’d been there before. Perhaps she’d cased the place out earlier, or it was just one of many similar yards. She pulled a flashlight out of her pocket, but there was no need for it. Carver Black’s lighting made it nearly as bright as day.
The yard wasn’t large and with so many women looking over and under everything, it seemed crowded. If there had been any prints left to see, they were trampled.
Maisie gave Cori a boost at each side of the fence, and she peered over with her flashlight.
“Nothing?” Bridget asked.
Cori shook her head and turned, so that the light hit Mim directly in the face. “Nothing obvious. But a dog like George doesn’t just disappear. Tell us exactly what happened, Mim. Leave nothing out.”
Mim told her everything, and when she was finished, Duff asked questions to draw out even more information, going back to Mim’s divorce and even her community nursing assignments.
“The police asked none of this,” Mim said. “They don’t seem concerned at all.”
“Christmas goes to everyone’s head,” Ari said. “People forget what’s really important.”
“But a lost dog is usually big news,” Mim said. “Let alone a stolen one.”
Bridget, Cori and Duff looked at each other, and then Bridget turned to Mim. “It might have something to do with what happened around my pageant last month. Did you hear about that?”
Mim nodded. “There were stories. Lots of stories. It sounded like some former contestants got mad and targeted your home?”
Bridget shifted uneasily and Beau leaned against her. “Something like that. City Council started silencing bad news, and obviously George’s disappearance qualifies as bad news. A stolen dog would tarnish Dog Town’s image. Better to pretend it’s not happening. Or possibly target you as a negligent owner.”
Mim’s shoulders slumped and Ari’s arm slipped around her. “Is that what everyone’s saying? That I’m negligent?”
“Of course not,” Ari said.
“They’ve said far worse of me,” Bridget said.
Cori held up one hand, an orange finger flashing. “Mim, if I’m honest—’”
“Cori, no!” A chorus of protests went up from her friends.
“It doesn’t help to pretend—” Cori started again.
Duff turned on her. “She’s not one of us, Cori. Not everyone can handle your honesty.”
“It’s okay.” Mim forced a smile. “I’m used to people talking smack about me.”
“Me too,” Ari said.
“And me,” Bridget added.
Cori used hand gestures to conduct the women into silence. “I was only going to say what you already know, Mim: that George was left out too long unsupervised. I’m no expert on teenaged boys but I’m guessing they need to be handled like big puppies—with consistent training, and rewards and punishments. Especially when there are pets involved.”
Mim nodded. “Truth. I take full responsibility.”
“That said,” Cori continued, “if you’re right about George being stolen—and I think you are—the thief would have found a way no matter what.”
“But why would anyone want to steal my dog? There are so many valuable purebreds in Dorset Hills.”
“That’s what we’re going to try to find out.” She gestured to her circle of friends. “We have connections all through Dog Town. If someone is hiding George, it will come out.”
“But how?” Mim asked.
“Barking, for starters. George is bound to complain about being abducted and someone will complain about the noise.”
“Unless they muzzle him,” Nika said.
A silence fell over the group and Nika looked sorry she’d spoken.
“Anyway,” Cori continued, “All you have to do is hang tight until the thief slips up. They always do.”
Bridget gave Mim’s mittened hand a squeeze, and Beau moved into position to invite patting. “People do strange things for strange reasons. We could tell you some crazy stories, but there’s no reason to scare you.”
Duff cleared her throat. “Plus we agreed to confidentiality. Right, Bridget?”
There was a huff of disgust from Cori as she crossed to the porch.
Bridget sighed. “We’ve got to keep our noses clean until the TV feature airs. I promised Mayor Bradford. No ruining Christmas, he said.”
Now on her back and squirming under the porch, Cori muttered something about a “deal with the devil.”
“Never mind,” Duff called.
Mim followed Cori and knelt in the snow. “Please be careful. The wood isn’t in great shape under there.”
“I’m fine. We’ve seen much worse.” Cori’s voice was muffled. “Much much—ow!”
The subsequent cursing carried nicely on the breeze. Maisie and Nika ran over, grabbed Cori’s boots and yanked her out. Then they lifted her to her feet as if she weighed no more than the little bird she looked like.
“It’s nothing,” she said, shaking her hand and hopping on the spot. “Just a splinter.”
“Come inside,” Mim said. “I’ll take care of that for you.”
Cori resisted, but her friends closed ranks and herded her up the stairs. Mim unlocked the door and let them all into the kitchen.
“I’ll make coffee,” Ari said, kicking off her boots.
In the bathroom, Cori sat on the edge of the tub while Mim collected her equipment. A thick splinter had driven right through the glove on Cori’s middle finger.
“It’s big and it’s shredding,” Mim said, peering through a magnifying glass. “I think I’m going to have to cut your glove away, and I see they’re one of a kind.”
Cori grinned up at her, and it softened her sharp features. “They are, but I bought a few pairs.”
So Mim snipped carefully and then rinsed the blood away. After that she was able to ease out the splinter. Cori barely flinched, although the wood had dug deep and split. Finally, Mim applied antiseptic, wrapped the finger in gauze and warned Cori to watch it over the next few days.
By the time they joined the others, everyone was sitting around the family room, drinking coffee. Their coats were piled high on the old wooden chairs in the kitchen.
“I can’t tell you how much I appreciate your help,” Mim said. “Even with Ari, I’ve felt�
��”
“Alone?” Bridget offered. “I certainly felt that way and yet I’m surrounded.”
She was sitting on the floor with Beau in her lap. He rested his long muzzle on her knee, but his eyes never left Hugo, who was on the couch beside Ari. Of the two, Beau was larger, but it was clear from Hugo’s relaxed demeanor that he had the upper paw, presumably because he had his male bits. Ari’s fingers were laced through Hugo’s collar, and Bridget’s through Beau’s. And yet they calmly raised coffee mugs with their free hands. Mastery level training, Mim thought.
Even so, when Cori walked into the room, it was as if both dogs deflated a little and then truly relaxed. There was a palpable difference in the atmosphere. She was well known through Dorset Hills as a skilled trainer who’d take on the most difficult dogs. It was interesting to see that her mere presence caused the two male dogs to stand down. Jezebel strolled in from the living room. There would be no funny business on Cori’s watch. Ari and Bridget both released their dogs’ collars and started stroking their heads.
Still standing, Cori crossed her arms. “So here’s what we’re going to do. Mim is going to write down every single possible suspect she can think of. Everyone who’s so much as looked at George the wrong way in the past year.”
“Why would anyone think ill of George? He’s a good dog,” Mim said.
Cori held up one hand, the bandage taking the place of the neon orange. “There’s a trainer grapevine, Mim, and I’ve heard about George.”
“Heard what about him?”
Perching on the arm of the couch beside Ari, Cori shrugged. “That he’s got some issues, that’s what.”
Duff glared at Cori from the big leather armchair. “Cori, be nice. No dog is perfect. They’re animals.”
“But George is the one who’s missing so there’s no putting too nice a point on this,” Cori said. “Mim, you need to figure out who might want to teach you a lesson. Let us know, and we’ll teach them a lesson.”
Now Bridget cast a warning glance. “She just means that we’ll get George back for you, if you can figure out where he is. We’ve intervened a few times on behalf of dogs in need. We’re quite good at it.”
“Avengers,” Nika reminded Mim.
“I—I still can’t believe someone would actually take him.” Mim’s head spun and the lights in the room blurred for a second. Suddenly there were hands on her arms, easing her into a seated position on the floor.
Maisie and Nika loomed over her. “You okay?” they asked together.
Ari jumped to her feet, and Hugo jumped too. Beau started to get up and Cori simply moved in front of him. The big black dog sank down again, eyes on Cori. She was like a conductor, using her body as well as her hands to control the action.
Nika got Mim some water. As she sipped, she looked around at everyone. Her family room fairly crackled with energy.
“I’m fine,” she said. “Just felt a little faint. I haven’t eaten much since… you know.”
“I’ll heat up some soup,” Ari said.
“No need. Kyle will be home soon and we’ll eat together.” At least, they’d eat at the same time in different parts of the house. “Thank you everyone. I’m so grateful for your support.”
Cori gestured for the others to rise, and they obeyed. “Thank us after George is back,” she said. “Meanwhile, we have another house call.”
“There are other dogs in need?” Mim asked. “At Christmas?”
“There are always dogs in need,” Bridget said, pulling a leash out of her pocket and clipping it to Beau’s collar. “And there are never enough resources in Dorset Hills.”
Cori picked up her coat and boots from the kitchen and headed to the front door. “Yet there are always resources to string this town up with a million lights.”
Leaning close to Mim, Duff said, “Cori always gets cranky this time of year.”
“Excuse me,” Cori called back. “I’m cranky year-round.”
Duff laughed as she walked out the door. “We love you anyway.”
The house seemed emptier than it ever had as Mim stood in the doorway. The green van drove off, and Ari let Hugo and Jezebel into the back seat of her SUV. She climbed in herself and turned the key in the ignition.
Stepping out onto the porch, Mim held up her hand. Then she picked her way down the front stairs in her socks, clutching the railing.
Ari rolled down the window. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. You win, that’s all.”
Mim opened the back door of the SUV, and Jezebel hopped out, tail wagging. She led the dog back up the stairs without another word. In the end, it didn’t make sense to be alone when there was a loaner available.
Chapter 6
Mim was still in her scrubs in the hospital parking lot after her shift on Thursday when someone called her name. She turned to see Remi Malone, who worked as a fundraiser with the hospital’s charitable foundation. They’d met often at events, and she liked Remi, but today her heart sank. She’d completely forgotten their last planning meeting for the children’s Christmas party.
“I was coming to get you,” Remi said. “We’re meeting in the visitor’s lounge, right?”
They usually met there so that Remi’s sweet little beagle, Leo, could come along. Dogs were only allowed in certain parts of the hospital, and Remi preferred not to be without him. Mind you, she’d been going solo more often lately. Something had changed… something that had allowed Remi’s normally pinched expression to loosen and her smile to bloom.
Leo pulled to the end of his leash, white tail lashing, so that Mim could stoop to pat him. As she did, her heart fell into her throat and it felt like she was choking. Remi’s bond with this dog was beautiful to see. If George ever came back, she promised herself she would socialize him better so that he could ride along with her sometimes too. Her homecare patients would love to have a dog visit, if that dog were well behaved. In other words, not George. At least, not now.
By the time Mim straightened up, Remi’s smile had fled. “I was so sorry to hear about George, Mim. I take it there’s been no news?”
Mim shook her head. “I’ve checked my phone a hundred times today, and nothing.”
Leo pawed at Remi’s leg, asking to be picked up. She did it automatically, but instead of settling into the crook of her arm, he stretched out his muzzle and paws toward Mim. “Do you mind?” Remi asked. “He wants to visit.”
She handed Leo to Mim, and he maneuvered himself into a position to gaze up at Mim adoringly. He leaned into her right hand so that she could stroke his long brown ears. They were incredibly silky. At first she felt disloyal enjoying Leo, but he felt so different in her arms. Leo was light and sleek and built for comfort. George was usually wriggling and thrashing, determined to do things his way.
“I forgot about our meeting, Remi, I’m sorry,” Mim said. “Let’s go inside.”
Fluffy flakes of top-quality Christmas snow had begun to drift down and melt into the large splotches of chocolate brown on Leo’s coat.
Remi caught Mim’s arm as she turned back to the hospital. “Mim, wait. I know exactly how you’re feeling right now. Leo went missing on Labor Day and I was beside myself. I just wanted to see you today to suggest you leave the party to me and my foundation colleagues. I have plenty of help.”
“But I love the kids’ Christmas party,” Mim said. “It’s the best part of the season for me.”
It was true. The party was a longstanding tradition at the hospital. The focus was on making Christmas merry for children who were too ill to be discharged for the holiday. But since there were usually only a dozen patients, they invited former patients and children of staff to increase numbers. It always turned out to be a wonderful mix. There were games and gifts, and great food. It was simple, and while that was the beauty of it there was no question that they could use more funding. Remi had volunteered to pitch in this year and had pretty much taken the reins. But even she was finding it hard to shake money out o
f Dog Town. There were so many competing parties in the festive season.
Kyle had always loved the party, and when he was too old to be a guest he’d become a volunteer. This year, however, he’d told Mim he was done with it. She wasn’t without hope he’d change his mind.
Mim’s phone buzzed in her purse. She handed Leo back to Remi, pulled off one glove and groped around for the phone. When she saw the message from Kyle, she gasped.
“What is it?” Remi asked, clutching Leo so tightly he panted.
“A neighbor called to say she saw George in the park near our house early this morning. It was still dark but she was sure it was him, and he was with a man she didn’t recognize.”
“And she just called now? It’s nearly five.”
Mim shook her head. “Kyle just picked up the message, unfortunately. I’m surprised he thought to check at all.” She unlocked the car. “Can we regroup tomorrow? I’m going to the park to look for George.”
Remi was already walking around the car. “I’m coming with you.”
“No need. I’ll pick up Kyle on the way.”
Sliding into the passenger seat, Remi laughed. “Leo will be more help than Kyle, I promise.”
Mim got into the car and turned the key in the ignition. There was no point arguing, but she doubted this little lapdog could do more than soothe her soul when this lead turned into a dead end. “How so?”
Bracing herself on the dash as Mim sped out of the parking lot, Remi said, “We’ve been taking scent classes, Leo and I.”
“You mean, like aromatherapy?”
Remi laughed. “Not exactly. Leo’s using his notorious beagle nose for good. He’s learning to track a scent, and when he finds it he gets a treat.”
“Interesting. Tell me more.”
“Well, it’s about working with your dog in a fun way,” Remi said. “And for hounds, sniffing things out is about as fun as it gets.”
Mim tried to focus as she raced past the huge bronze St. Bernard in front of the hospital and then took a sharp left at the bronze Dalmatian outside the fire station. Since the statues were unveiled in the fall, Mim had begun using them as navigation points around town. She had mixed feelings each time a new one popped up, and there were close to 20 now. Part of her was dismayed so much money went into displays that could have been directed to health care, where it was always desperately needed. As least ten grand had been sunk into the solemn St. Bernard sitting in front of emergency. His bronze cask alone would finance a dozen IV poles.
The Dog Town Collection Page 35