The Dog Town Collection

by Sandy Rideout

  “Do you mind if I sit closer to the fire?” he asked, sliding down the couch toward her. He tucked his robe carefully between his thighs and smiled. “Not that there’s anything left to hide.”

  “Somehow I never imagined a knight flying over my back fence in a bathrobe,” she said.

  “More like a belly flop. I’ve asked Santa for a suit of shining armor for Christmas.”

  “If he’s heard your views on Christmas, you could be in trouble.”

  The booze was going to her head, and she had to fight the urge to close the distance between them. She wanted to snuggle into that warm terry cloth and let the smells of pine and rum lull her. Instead, she got unsteadily to her feet and said, “I’m going to find you something to wear home. You can’t go back over the fence in that.”

  “I’m not risking my manhood on the return mission. I was planning on walking around the block.”

  “Carver, you can’t! Martha Mowat would have a fit if she saw you.”

  “If I cared what the neighbors thought, would I have put up that floodlight?”

  She turned back from the hallway. “Why did you put that light up?”

  “To get your attention?”

  Shaking her head, she went to Kyle’s room and pulled clean briefs, a T-shirt and track pants out of his drawers.

  Carver caught them as she tossed them, and held them up. “There’s no way. I have fifty pounds on Kyle.”

  “It’s better than nothing.”

  Standing, he turned his back and stepped into the briefs. Grunting and squirming, he turned the process into such a production that Mim collapsed onto the couch, laughing.

  He turned and displayed the briefs, which barely covered the important bits. The crotch was so low he could hardly walk, but he took a few awkward steps. “Satisfied?”

  Hiding her face in a cushion, Mim laughed harder. “Now the shirt,” she said.

  Tossing his bathrobe aside, Carver wriggled into Kyle’s T-shirt, which was skin tight and came to his midriff. “Nice. A crop top.”

  Tears were streaming from Mim’s eyes. “Okay. Stick with the robe.”

  “I want to point out that very few knights would sacrifice their pride to amuse a lady.” He stripped off Kyle’s clothes and put his robe back on. This time he didn’t bother turning, and he checked to see if Mim was watching. She was.

  “There’s one more option.” She went downstairs and returned with an enormous pair of red overalls that Andrew had used for a Halloween costume years before.

  “Perfect,” Carver said. “Now I’ll look like a scarecrow.” But he stepped into the overalls and slipped the straps over his shoulders. She covered her mouth again.

  “Never mind,” Carver said, putting his robe on too. “I’ll jog home. No one will notice.”

  “Maybe you’d better go before Ari gets here,” she said.

  She led the way through the living room and he stopped to admire the Christmas tree in the front window. “This is a beautiful tree, but I like the one in the family room better. It has personality.”

  “I thought you’d prefer this one. Your place is so… neat.”

  “Neat isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.”

  She looked up and found his face inches from hers. “Carver, I—”

  The rest of the words dissolved as his lips closed on hers. Mim felt his arm circle her back and reached up to touch his neck. He made a sound between a sigh and a moan and pulled her closer. Her eyes opened and she saw the star on top of the Christmas tree positioned exactly over Carver’s head. Although she wasn’t typically the type to believe in signs, this one was hard to ignore.

  “Careful,” she said as they pulled apart. “We could set the tree on fire. I bought it too early and it’s dry.”

  “I’ll take the risk,” he said, kissing her again.

  Between the rum, the stress and the hormones, her head was spinning. “Seeing stars,” she murmured.

  “I should go,” he said, not going.

  She shook off the spell at last. “Ari’s bringing a police officer with her.”

  That got him moving. Shoving bare feet into his boots, he stepped out onto the porch. Pulling her out with him, he kissed her again.

  “Can I ask you something?” she said.

  “Of course.”

  “Can you leave your spotlight on tonight?”

  He laughed. “It’s my duty as a knight to do your bidding.”

  And with that, he thumped down the front stairs and covered the driveway in a few strides. At the bottom, he turned back and opened his robe to flash the overalls. Then he jogged out of sight.

  Chapter 17

  Ari literally shoved her way through the crowds in the town square, applying a shoulder or an elbow first, and apologizing afterwards. One man turned indignantly and deflated instantly at the sight of her sleek hair and professional makeup. “Merry Christmas,” she said, and forged on. “Come on, Mim. Let’s get those signs up fast. That reward is going to refresh some memories, I bet. Especially when people are maxing out their charge cards today on Christmas Eve shopping.”

  Most of the original posters had been torn down by the civic workers whose job it was to keep Dog Town beautiful for the people, even if it came at the expense of a dog. Ari had used a different photo of George, one with an earnest, entreating expression. Over the photo, it said “$6,500 REWARD” in huge font.

  “I’m not cashing the hospital’s check,” Mim said. “It seems wrong to offer so much. I wish there was a way to get him back and give the money to charity.”

  “That might happen if the news feature does what it should,” Ari said. “They’re really going to work the Christmas spirit angle.”

  A reporter and cameraman had spent more than two hours with them that morning. Mim hoped the reporter would edit out the parts where she cried and clutched Jezebel like a lift raft. The stress of the week seemed to have left her incapable of controlling her emotions.

  Christmas spirit was currently under siege in Dog Town from a serious threat. The temperature had shot up, and there was a chance, albeit a slim one, that every bit of snow might disappear before midnight. People were overdressed for the mild day, as if trying to will the weather to cooperate. Panicked discussions could be heard everywhere. “Do you think the snow will hold? It can’t all go in one day, can it?”

  Despite the green-Christmas virus spreading through the crowd, a number of people stopped Mim in the street to condole with her over George. “I’m so sorry for your loss,” one woman said. “You have our sympathies,” said another. Mim wanted to snap, “He’s not dead, just missing,” but stopped herself because they meant well.

  They didn’t break for coffee until fifty signs were up.

  “Twenty minutes to refuel and then we power shop,” Ari said, in the line at Puccini’s.

  “I just need one gift for Kyle,” Mim said. “All he wants these days is cash anyway.”

  Ari gave her a coy look. “You need something for Carver. He’ll give you a gift for sure.”

  “He won’t,” she scoffed. “We barely know each other.”

  “Please. There were stars in your eyes last night.”

  “What about you and Miles?” Mim countered.

  “That’s different,” she said. “He’d have to pass all kinds of testing before that happened. Breeders are super cautious about these things. Even if they don’t intend to breed.”

  While they placed their order, the owner came over—the one who’d sounded so judgemental the last time they were there. “I have something for you,” she said, pointing to a large glass jar on the counter. George’s poster was taped to the outside. Inside was a mound of coins and bills. “There’s more in the safe.”

  Mim was temporarily speechless, so Ari stepped in. “That’s wonderful, thank you so much. We have a new poster, if you don’t mind. Half the town will pass through here today.”

  The owner took the sign and wrote something on it with a black marker, before rep
lacing the sign in the jar. “Free coffee all year to the person who finds George,” it said. Mim extended her hand to the owner in thanks, and the woman leaned across the counter for a hug.

  There were grumbles behind them in line over the delay and the owner said, “Listen up. It’s not just a crime when a dog is stolen in Dog Town, it’s an insult to what we stand for. So I ask every one of you to open your wallets and wrack your brains for any tip that could bring George home for Christmas. Let’s do this town proud.”

  Ari started clapping, and others followed suit. Mim almost floated to the table on the applause. “I can’t believe it,” she said, dabbing her eyes with a serviette. “Everyone’s so nice. Have I been wrong about this town all along?”

  “Dorset Hills is like any other community,” Ari said. “It’s made up of people who are kind and generous and flawed and judgemental, all at the same time. The only thing you’re wrong about is thinking you can avoid being part of it. We’re all in it together, you know? For better or worse.”

  The next few hours continued to showcase the “better” part of the equation, as shopkeepers pressed free gifts on Mim, everything from a new leash and designer bowl to a warm scarf and mittens for dog walks. People were so convinced she’d need them that it buoyed her spirits.

  In one gift shop, they discovered a gold mine of non-regulation Christmas tree ornaments. Mim bought two for Carver—a beautiful handmade piano, and a kitschy guitar. Then she picked up some pine boughs at a corner store, as he didn’t have a tree.

  Their last stop was the pet store, where people gathered around them as if they were celebrities. The show had aired at noon, and people assured Ari and Mim that they were wonderfully eloquent, and that George would surely be back by nightfall.

  “See, you can’t hate this town,” Ari said as they headed for the parking lot.

  “Unfortunately, Christmas doesn’t last.”

  “I’m thinking of running for Council on the ‘Permanent Christmas’ platform,” Ari said.

  Mim grinned as they parted. “You’d have my vote.”

  It was easier entering the house in daylight. Still, Mim picked up the heavy flashlight she’d left near the front door, and carried it poised to strike as she did a circuit of the house.

  Kyle had strewn a few things about to prove he’d been there, and then left with Jezebel. She never had to ask him to look after the loaner dog. Maybe he was trying to make amends for not appreciating George enough, but it seemed more like Jez had worked her chill magic on Kyle as well as her. There was a lot to be said for a well-behaved dog. It’s too bad she hadn’t realized that in time to put the work into civilizing sweet, unruly George. But Ari said it was never too late to train, and hopefully their day would come.

  Opening the curtains in the family room to complete the inspection, she dropped the light in shock. It hit her foot, but she barely felt it.

  In the middle of the red and green solar lights left by the dognapper the day before, sat a gift-wrapped rectangular box about a foot long.

  “Oh my god,” she moaned. “Why can’t he just leave me alone?”

  Fear rose into her throat along with something else: fury. She was fed up with feeling helpless and heartbroken. She wanted to punish the person who was putting her through all of this. All she’d ever done for this town was try to serve, and this was her thanks.

  Rage drove her out the back door without calling the police, or Ari, or even Carver. She charged down the steps and grabbed the package. Tearing off the gift wrap, she let it scatter over what was left of the snow. Lifting the lid of the box, she almost screamed again. Instead, she dropped it on the ground and then kicked it furiously across the yard.

  The contents spilled out: George’s red-and-green Christmas leash, knotted into a noose, skidded onto bare paving stones. An envelope travelled further and landed in the grass, which was poking through what was left of the snow.

  Grabbing the envelope, she ran back inside and locked the door behind her. She moved away from the window and opened it with trembling fingers.

  Once again, it was a Christmas card, this time featuring a drawing of a shepherd with his dog and flock. Inside, cut-out letters formed a message:

  BriNg the cAsh to the Big Tree at 5. Let’s Drink to George’s heaLth. Hold the Nutmeg.

  Mim drove well over the speed limit back to Bellington Square, and cursed while she circled the parking lots trying to find a free spot. It was nearly five, and she still had to get to the bank to collect enough cash for the full reward.

  She’d decided not to call anyone until she was in position, so that they couldn’t stop her from doing this. Besides, how dangerous could it be, when the streets were still swarming with last-minute shoppers?

  Mim was still so angry that she’d knew she’d make a scene when the dognapper arrived. Especially since the dognapper was obviously Carver. He had made a big deal over her hating nutmeg. The flavor of Christmas, he said. It made her queasy to think about how she’d let her guard down the night before. Only a sick man could think stealing her dog and invading her home could lead to romance. And only a stupid man would lay out his cards so openly.

  Perching on the bench beside the big tree, she waited. After her call, the police had sent out two officers, including a woman in jeans and a parka who introduced herself as Laura Morton. She took a position across the street, just inside Thornton’s Sporting Goods, and gave Mim a thumbs-up signal. Every 10 minutes, she called to see how Mim was holding up. By the third call, they were on a first-name basis.

  For the first half hour, anger kept Mim warm. After that, as the sun disappeared and the mild breeze cooled, she started to shiver. She wished she’d taken the time to grab a hat and mittens. Her hands were frosty claws stuffed into her pockets and her ears felt like icicles. She didn’t dare pull up her hood in case he crept up behind her.

  The police had advised Mim to stay off the phone and avoid distraction. It was nice to have an excuse not to call Ari or Kyle. Eventually, she’d have to admit she’d been an idiot to fall for Carver’s wiles. For the moment, she just wanted to wallow in her own foolishness. Had she been single so long that the first handsome man who looked her way destroyed the common sense she’d spent years acquiring? She went over and over what she’d say to him when he arrived, hoping the cops would give her time to use her script before they carted him away. She had to get this off her chest.

  By six, her fury had been replaced with worry. The stores were closing and people were hurrying home, loaded with bags and boxes. The warm feeling that suffused the town earlier had faded. No one seemed to see her, alone and shivering on the bench. Here was the real spirit of Dog Town resurfacing, she thought. She grew angry again at being taken in by the townspeople too. It felt like she was always getting duped by someone.

  At six thirty, Laura called and told her to go home.

  “But what happened?” Mim said as she walked to her car. “Why didn’t he show?”

  “Probably chickened out when the time came,” Laura said.

  “Maybe he left George at my house,” Mim said.

  There was a pause, as if Laura was trying to find the right words. “He hasn’t—at least, not yet. We have a car watching your house. In case this was a decoy.”

  “Did you check Carver’s house?”

  “Yep. No sign of him.”

  Mim sighed. “I thought this was it. I thought I was actually going to get George home for Kyle by Christmas.”

  “Well, it sounds like George is still alive, and the game’s not over yet. We’ll keep checking your house tonight, in case this guy tries pulling a Santa.”

  “Wish I had a working fireplace,” Mim said.

  Mim made Laura a coffee and pressed a tin of cookies into her hands. She liked the officer’s calm cynicism and suspected they could be friends under different circumstances.

  “I can’t take your cookies,” Laura said. Although she was in plain clothes, she still had the look of a cop about her
. Her hair was pulled back a little too severely from her angular, but pretty, face. Maybe Carver had sensed a setup when he came by the square, and fled.

  “A client gave them to me, but I don’t like them.”

  Laura sniffed them. “Ah. Nutmeg.”

  “Exactly. Now you and the dognapper both know my secret.”

  “I wouldn’t be so sure it’s this Carver guy,” Laura said. “He sounds too smart for this stunt.”

  Mim had described the previous evening in broad brushstrokes, and sensed Laura didn’t want her to feel any worse than she already did. “Do you really think George might be safe?”

  Nodding, Laura bit into a cookie and took a sip of coffee. “This has all the hallmarks of a crush gone wrong. I bet this guy never meant for things to go this far and doesn’t know how to get himself out now.”

  “I hope you’re right.”

  “We’re still looking into your patients,” Laura said. “But your ex-husband checked out. He’s in Minneapolis, by the way.”

  Mim gulped twice before she could speak. “Did you speak to him?”

  “Miles did. Sounds like Andrew’s straightened himself out. I wouldn’t be surprised if you guys heard from him down the road.”

  “Terrific,” Mim said. “This day’s getting better by the second.”

  “Just try to enjoy the holiday, and don’t give up,” Laura said. “By the way, these cookies are great. You should give nutmeg a second chance.”

  Throwing clothes for Kyle and herself into bags, Mim started to fume again. Now she’d been romanced and robbed and duped into sitting in the cold for nearly two hours on Christmas Eve. She had half a mind to break into Carver’s house and wait for him there, but Kyle had called repeatedly, demanding to be picked up so they could head to Ari’s together.

  After piling the bags in the front entry, she went to the back door and stared into the darkness. She felt as if some sort of realization was just out of reach, like a fish nibbling at bait but refusing to take the hook.