The Dog Town Collection

by Sandy Rideout

  “So maybe he’ll change it around Carver, too.”

  “I have an idea,” Mim said. “But we’ll need Remi Malone and Leo.”

  “Oh please. Not that dog-baby,” Cori said. “What could a beagle possibly offer?”

  “Meet me tonight,” Mim said. “You might be surprised.”

  Augustus Tremaine declined Mim’s visit once again. She was already on his porch and he simply shouted at her through the door to go away. “I don’t need you. Tell that agency to stop sending you.”

  “Mr. Tremaine, you have an infection and your doctor’s orders are clear: you get your daily antibiotics by home visit, or you get admitted to the hospital.”

  “I feel fine. Spend our tax dollars on someone who needs help,” he shouted. “Try crossing the driveway to see Daisy Redmond.”

  “I’d be happy to visit Daisy,” Mim said, pressing her face to the door. “Just as soon as I’ve given you your meds. And not a second before.”

  There was silence on the other side and she sensed the tide turning. Finally the bolt snapped across and the door opened. Augustus was wearing the same candy-cane pajamas Bridget had on earlier. There must have been a sale somewhere.

  “What’s wrong with Daisy?” Mim asked, following Augustus to his recliner.

  “What isn’t wrong with Daisy?” he said. “You know. I know you know.”

  She waited till he settled into his recliner before trying to push up his pajama leg. He slapped her hand away once and then settled when she stared him down. The infection was receding, but that only made him feistier.

  “I know she hasn’t been well this year. But how have things changed?”

  His pink-rimmed eyes stared up at her, sharp points of blue in a pale face. “That daughter of hers is killing her. If the dog doesn’t get her first. She’s fading away. And you people are just letting that happen. At Christmas, too.”

  Mim gave him his shot. “How about we make this super fast, Mr. Tremaine? I’ll take your temperature and you nod yes or no to my questions, and then I’ll head over to Daisy’s. Agreed?”

  He accepted the thermometer and she left it in long after it beeped just to keep him quiet.

  “Don’t charge her anything,” he said when she finally uncorked him. “Whatever it costs, send me the bill.”

  “I won’t charge anything at all. I’ve known Daisy a long time.”

  He stared at her, doubtful. “Well, don’t tell her I told you to go then. Just act like a friend. A real friend. Not the type that only shows up at Christmas. Or because she’s a nurse and has to.”

  Mim sighed. There was no winning here. “I will do my best to take the Dog Town Christmas spirit next door.”

  “I said to be real. You’re sassy, but I didn’t take you to be a faker like the rest of this godforsaken town.”

  Finally she smiled. “That’s the nicest thing anyone’s said to me all week.”

  Augustus looked even more disgruntled. “Well, don’t let it go to your head.” He handed her a box full of gingerbread cookies cut out in the shape of dogs. “Take these to Daisy. Too much nutmeg. I’ve never understood people who like it.”

  “Got it. Now, keep your leg elevated. Follow instructions. I’ll see you tomorrow, whether you like it or not.”

  He waved her away. “You can have a cookie with Daisy. Just one, mind.”

  “I’ve never understood people who like nutmeg either,” she said. “But don’t let that go to your head.”

  On the way home, Mim made a mental note to check in on Daisy whenever she could. Their short visit had been pleasant, aside from several sneak attacks by Daisy’s scrappy Scottie, Tavish. Mim hadn’t seen anything in particular to worry about, but she was touched by how the two neighbors looked out for each other. Augustus was right: that sort of good feeling shouldn’t be confined to Christmas.

  Kyle had continued to step up his game and all the lights were on when she pulled into the drive. She stepped out of the car and stood for a moment, admiring the house. Not a day passed that she wasn’t grateful for her home and family, but she put a little extra juice into that feeling tonight. As if on cue, the skies opened and snow began falling.

  A sound made her turn. Six people were coming across the street toward her through a sheet of snow. They were evenly spaced and their strides matched. It was like something out of a superhero movie, only the heroes wore parkas and sensible boots. On one end of the line was a big black dog, at the other a small beagle.

  “Hey, Mim,” Remi called. “The cavalry’s arrived.”

  “Make that the Rescue Mafia,” Mim called back, grinning.

  “Quiet,” Cori said, as they walked up Mim’s driveway. “That’s insider information. As for you, Remi Malone, you are not an insider.”

  Remi wilted as much as someone wrapped to the eyes in down and wool can.

  “She’s a guest of the Mafia,” Bridget said, pulling down her scarf to unleash the full force of her scowl on Cori.

  “It’s okay, Remi,” Duff said, smiling over at her. “I’m still an outsider and I’ve done plenty of rescues—many of them in heels. The initiation into this secret society is too much trouble.”

  “Let’s chitchat about your footwear later, Duff,” Cori said. “And… deploy.”

  Mim dropped her bag back into the car and locked the door before trotting after the group. On the sidewalk, they had to split into two groups, and she found herself beside Duff and Remi, who now had Leo under her arm. Outsiders to the rear, she presumed.

  Around the block they went, and by the time they neared Carver Black’s driveway, she had fallen into step as well. It happened naturally.

  Everyone slowed at the sight of Carver’s big silver pickup. Mim shivered and Remi reached out and squeezed her arm. “There are tons of silver trucks in Dog Town,” she said. “My boyfriend drives one, and I guarantee he didn’t steal George.”

  Cori raised her glove with its orange flare. “Halt. Deploy the nose.”

  “In and out,” Bridget said. “Like we’re just walking the dog and he stopped for a sec.”

  The others fell back as Remi set Leo on the ground. She pulled George’s toy pig out of her pocket and let him sniff it. “Find it, Leo. Find it.”

  Mim held her breath as Leo approached the truck, nose to the ground. His tail wagged, but never turned into the propeller she’d seen in the park.

  “Go up to the garage and sniff,” Bridget said. “Just in case.”

  Remi glanced up at the house nervously, and Mim stepped forward to go with her. “I’ve trespassed worse than this and I’m alive to tell the tale,” she told Remi as they followed Leo past the truck to the garage.

  The truck was still warm enough to melt the falling snow, and the motor was making ticking sounds as they walked up on the passenger side. Tinted windows, Mim noticed, looking up. Obviously, Carver had something to hide.

  Leo’s tail continued its steady pace. Right, left, right, left. No round and round.

  No George.

  Mim didn’t know whether to be relieved or disappointed. She didn’t want Carver Black to be the dognapper, but he was the best lead they had.

  “Well, this is underwhelming,” Cori called, as Remi and then Mim squeezed between the garage and the truck. “Not that my expectations were high.”

  A sudden sound made them all freeze.

  “Oh no,” Mim whispered.

  The door opened on the driver’s side and Carver swung down. “Well,” he said. “Funny meeting you here, Mim. Squished between my truck and garage.”

  “Stay calm. I’m sure he didn’t hear us,” Mim murmured.

  She braced herself on the hood and looked up at Carver. Remi had stopped moving, and they were trapped there, unless Mim backed up. Only Leo was unfazed. He ran over to Carver, who stooped and picked up the dog.

  Remi gasped, “No!”

  “I’m not going to hurt the little guy,” he said. “Far from it.”

  Leo licked Carver’s face. If the
dog was concerned, it didn’t show.

  Mim finally managed to push Remi out onto the driveway in front of Carver and he placed the dog in her arms. Mim expected her to bolt back to the others, but she didn’t.

  “So you sit around in your truck waiting to scare people to death?” Mim asked, hoping that strong offense was the best defense. “Must get pretty cold behind those tinted windows.”

  Carver just grinned at her. “Oh, Mim. I knew it was just a matter of time before you came sniffing around again. But I never thought it would be literally.”

  Bridget stepped forward from the curb. “Hi, Carver. Good to see you. Sorry to intrude. We were just in the neighborhood to—”

  “Canvas for the hospital children’s party,” Remi interrupted. “It’s tomorrow evening, and funds are low this year. Would you be willing to contribute?”

  Carver leaned against the truck, so that he could see all of them. “Maybe. But first I’d love to hear what you’re up to.”

  “Just catching my dog,” Remi said. “He got away on me. Leo’s an escape artist.”

  Leo proved that true by galloping down the driveway, only to be scooped like a football by Cori’s agile hands.

  “The children’s Christmas party is a Dog Town tradition, Carver,” Bridget said. “Just like my rescue pageant. How about opening your wallet for a good cause?”

  “Better yet,” Remi said, “come out to help tomorrow night. All of us will be there.”

  There was a squawk of protest from Cori that choked off abruptly.

  “Kyle and I never miss it,” Mim said. “Although he’s threatened to boycott this year.”

  “We’re definitely down some men,” Remi said. “It would mean the world to the kids if you could help out.”

  Carver pushed his hands into his coat pockets and scanned the group. Then he turned to stare at Mim. “Sure, I’d love nothing more,” he said, smiling.

  They made a quick retreat after that and no one turned to see if he was watching.

  “Well, that was easy,” Remi said, as she fell into step behind Cori.

  “Too easy,” Mim said. “He’s up to something.”

  “Everyone’s always up to something in Dog Town,” Cori said. Her boots lost traction for a moment and mittened hands reached out to steady her. “All you can do is watch your step.”

  “And surround yourself with the right people,” Bridget said.

  Chapter 14

  A gasp rippled through the crowd in the hospital’s darkened auditorium as Mim flipped the switch and lit up a 15-foot Christmas tree on Sunday evening. Children squealed and adults applauded. Mim clasped her hands in a moment of awe. She had never seen a tree so magnificent outside of Bellington Square. Both came from the same tree farm a few counties away. Scott Beaton had made a special run that morning to find this beauty, bombarding Mim with photo after photo till she chose “the one.” They’d had a debate by text over the relative merits of Douglas and Fraser firs. It had been a welcome distraction as she’d combed the neighborhood with Jezebel again for signs of George.

  In the end, any tree would have been beautiful decked out in hundreds of lights and ornaments the kids had made at the craft table. Duff and Maisie had surprised Mim, and probably themselves, with their flair for gluing bows, glitter and beads together.

  “You’re breaking every city guideline for trees, my friend,” Ari said now, joining Mim.

  “Who’s going to begrudge sick children a gorgeous tree decorated with their very own ornaments?”

  “The Christmas cops, that’s who,” Ari said. “Everyone’s taking pictures and posting them.”

  Mim gave her a little jab with her elbow. “It’s not like you to be Scroogey. What gives?”

  “Too many kids in an enclosed space.” Ari shuddered. “You know I prefer puppies.”

  Now Mim looked her curiously. “Don’t you want kids someday?”

  Two quick shakes of blonde hair. “It’s not in my business plan.”

  “Why not? You’d make a great mom, Ari.”

  “Not to humans. I see so many kids when families pick up puppies, and I don’t understand the appeal. Kyle was the exception for me. He was so mature for his age.”

  “How could I not know this?” Mim asked.

  “You’ve never roped me into helping out at this party before.”

  Mim laughed. “Remi’s an all-star roper. Just following her example.”

  “Well, I hope she has more planned than staring at a tree. Because the special guests are getting restless.” She shuddered again. “One tantrum and I’m outta here.”

  “You’ll like what’s coming next, I promise you.”

  “Don’t tell me… she’s got Carver playing Santa.”

  Staring around, Mim shook her head. “It crossed her mind. Our usual Santa is out with the flu. But Cori stepped in with a better idea.”

  “Cori? I would have pegged her as a kid-hater like me.”

  Mim shushed her. “Stop that. Kids are unique, just like us. Some you like, some you don’t. But sick children get an automatic free pass. Even Cori agrees.”

  Cori was standing on the sidelines with her tuxedoed date, Clint. He was an award-winning black-and-white border collie who’d travelled all over the country with her to herding competitions. Unlike many people in Dorset Hills, Cori usually left her own dog at home. Mim figured she wanted to be able to jump into rescue mode unencumbered at any time.

  Tonight, Clint was primed to perform. Somehow, in the course of a day, Cori had managed to train him to perform a very special task. At her command, he picked up wrapped gifts from a big basket and delivered them one by one to the children. Cori’s small gestures and sounds were imperceptible to the kids, so they believed Clint made all the decisions. It was the first year that not one child cried over not getting “the best” gift. All the gifts were just right because Clint had chosen them.

  Remi came over, with Leo dangling happily under one arm like a living toy. “Isn’t this perfect?” she asked. “The kids and parents are thrilled, Mim. I’ve never seen a nicer tree.”

  Mim turned to take it in again. There was a movement underneath. It was Scott Beaton making miniscule adjustments. The boughs bounced a little and settled. She’d have to remember to tip him later. He’d gone above and beyond in going below. Like most people—with the surprising exception of Ari—he was a softie where kids were concerned.

  Two tall, dark-haired men came through the door and her eyebrows shot up. Carver and Kyle—and it appeared that they’d arrived together. Carver was herding Kyle into the room with little pokes from behind, reminiscent of Clint working on sheep. The expression on Kyle’s face was sheepish, rather than his typical sullenness.

  Remi and Leo intercepted them before they reached Mim, and now she was the one herding. The men walked ahead of her into the little office. Mim’s feet started moving seemingly of their own accord until she stood in the doorway.

  “Shut the door,” Remi said. “It’s another surprise for the kids.”

  “I’m not doing it,” Kyle said. His arms crossed and his lips pressed together.

  “Oh, come on, Kyle,” Remi said. “Do it for the kids.”

  “Never. Not going to happen.”

  Carver was grinning. “It’s half an hour of your life. Do you think I’m thrilled about it?”

  “Mom. Please.”

  It had been a long time since Kyle had looked at her with pleading eyes. She could never say no to those eyes, which was probably why things had gone off the rails. “What’s going on?”

  “This. She wants me to wear this.” He kicked at a large pile of black-and-white fabric on the floor. “With him.”

  Carver picked up the fluffy fabric and held it in front of him. “Which end is up?”

  Remi helped him sort things out. “Stick your feet in here. You be the head and Kyle can be the butt.”

  “I am not being the butt. I’m not being anything.” He grabbed Mim’s arm. “Mom. Say somethin
g.”

  “What is this, exactly?” Mim asked, gesturing to the fabric.

  “Isn’t it obvious?” Carver asked. “What’s black and white and red all over? Kyle Gardiner humiliated in a Dalmatian costume.”

  She barked out a laugh. “You’re kidding!”

  “Not kidding,” Remi said. Her smile was serene. “It’s Dexter the Dalmatian of Dorset Hills. Kyle, all you’ve got to do is prance around the Christmas tree to Jingle Bell Rock, shake a few paws, and you’re done.”

  “I am not prancing anywhere in that costume.”

  “Oh Kyle, come on,” Mim said. “This party is important to the kids. And we have so much.”

  He backed up to the wall of the office, arms still crossed, and slid right down to the floor. His lip hadn’t jutted like that in at least six years. Mim knew from experience that there was no joking him out of this mood. It would need to pass like storm clouds.

  “I’m sorry, Remi,” she said, raising her hands helplessly. “I can’t force him.”

  “I’m sorry, too,” Remi said. “Because that means you’re going in.”

  “Pardon me?”

  “Well, I’m coordinating everything, so I can’t do it. Just climb into the suit and—”

  “And prance around the tree a few times,” Kyle said. His pout had spontaneously disappeared.

  Carver grinned at her. The costume was up under his armpits now. “Let’s go, Mim. I’ll drive Dexter. All you have to do is shake that—”

  “Gross,” Kyle said. But he was grinning now. Grinning in a way Mim didn’t think possible with George still missing.

  Still. There were limits.

  “I am not getting into that costume,” she said. “I’m claustrophobic.”

  Kyle pushed himself back up to standing position, literally inflating with glee. “Come on, Mom. This party is important to the kids. And we have so much.”

  He joined Remi in helping Mim get her feet into the costume, and yanked it up before she could flail in protest.

  “Wait, what do I do?” Mim asked.

  “Just lean over and hold onto Carver’s waist,” Remi said. “Easy. Kick your legs out when you dance. That’s all. It’ll be fun.”