We headed down Kentucky Street until we got to Third, then turned toward Chestnut. Cassie pushed open the door. Deb Brubaker, the dispatcher at the front desk, greeted us with a smile.
“Hi, guys,” she said, looking up from her computer monitor.
“Hey, Deb,” Cassie replied, and I wagged halfheartedly. Deb was friendly enough, but I felt weird knowing The Mom was no longer welcome here. It’s temporary. Like a case of fleas, I reminded myself. We just need the right treatment.
Cassie led the way into the heart of the station. A few people glanced up at us and we got more smiles. But they weren’t real smiles. They were sad “sorry” smiles.
I stuck close to Cassie, licking my chops. I felt a little anxious. When Cassie visited the station in the before time, she was treated like royalty. There were doughnuts and patrol car rides, with flashing lights. My old partner would let Cassie spin in his chair until she got sick. Now I felt a little sick just thinking about my old partner. I stole a quick glance at my girl. She wasn’t looking so hot herself. I could smell sadness seeping out of her skin. Overripe berries. She was remembering my old partner, too.
When we got to The Chief’s office, Chase Langtree gave us the most pathetic look of all. It was better than the fake smiles we’d gotten from the other two-leggeds, but my tail drooped anyway.
“What are you guys doing here?” Langtree asked.
Cassie held up the keys. They clinked, and my ears twitched. Both of them. Sometimes my bad ear still tried to work. “Brought these back for my mom. And she asked me to get something from her office,” she added. She made it sound like nothing weird was going on. Then added, “She’s really missing you guys.”
My girl was playing Langtree. She was pretending not to be a threat so she’d be welcomed back into the pack. Humans did this with words. Dogs did it with whines and paced circles.
“Yeah, we miss her, too,” Langtree replied with a nod.
“Do you think she’ll be back soon?” Cassie asked. She was hiding her digging with innocence.
Langtree paused too long. “I hope so,” he said. What he meant was “no.”
Cassie sighed in disappointment but kept talking. “‘Negligence’ sounds so harsh, you know? Mom knows what she’s doing.”
Langtree looked right at her, trying to decide if he should challenge her. Trying to guess how much she knew.
“She told me all about it,” Cassie assured him. I nuzzled up against my girl’s leg. Even from down here I could feel her heart thundering. I smelled her nervousness. She didn’t like to lie, especially about The Mom.
“It’s really awful when things go that wrong,” Langtree said slowly. He was looking at me now, giving Cassie space. But his gaze felt heavy. I shifted on my paws. We were digging up horrible memories. For everyone. “But you know how it is, procedures . . .”
Suddenly Cassie’s shoulders dropped. Her eyes got all shiny. I hated when they did that. Only I could smell that the pooling tears weren’t real, that they were part of an act. She wasn’t actually starting to cry. She was digging deeper.
“Yeah, Mom just can’t believe someone would try to set her up like that. Blame her. After all we, I mean she, has been through, losing Uncle Mark and all.” She bent down and hugged me around the neck. Hiding. I could feel her peeking up through my fur to see how the act was working. I tried to make my fur fluff up, to help her. She was out on a limb. The Chief hadn’t said anything about being set up.
The idea didn’t seem new to Langtree, though. He nodded and frowned. He sighed heavily but kept his mouth shut. He was done talking.
“I’ll just put these on her desk,” Cassie said, sniffing. She stood up, walked to The Chief’s door, and slid the big key into the lock. I heard a click. Bingo!
But Langtree got to his feet, to follow us. “Oh, I can take those.” He held out his hand. Cassie took two quick steps and handed him the keys while I stayed and held the door open.
“Is it okay if I just get my mom’s phone charger? She left it here by accident.” Cassie asked but didn’t wait for an answer. She dashed inside before Langtree could stop her. She set her bag on The Chief’s chair and I used my snout to spin it around so the high back blocked Langtree’s view. Nice work.
Moving quickly, Cassie pulled a charger and her phone out of her bag, keeping them both in one hand. She rifled through a few items on the desk, sniffing for clues. She snapped a few photos with her phone.
She was so busy clicking she didn’t see Langtree getting up from his chair. I had her back, though. I ran interference, meeting him at the door.
He petted me but didn’t bend down. Didn’t look at my face. I could tell I wouldn’t be able to hold him for long. Cassie could tell, too, now that she was done clicking. She held up the charger like she’d just grabbed it from the drawer.
“Here it is!” She waved the cord at Langtree and dropped it into her pack. Woof! Good work, Cassie.
She walked toward us, and we strolled out the door, all wags. Mission accomplished!
I pulled the door to Mom’s office closed behind me, making sure it was locked. That was close! My heart was thudding so hard I was sure everyone around me could hear it. But thanks to Dodge I got a look at a few things — and even some photos of photos on Mom’s desk.
I forced my face into an innocent smile and looked up at Officer Langtree. “Mom’ll be really glad to have —”
The phone on Langtree’s desk rang, and he dashed over to answer it, sparing me the explanation. I waved and started for the door. I felt tingly with excitement and was already outside in my head when Dodge suddenly tensed and sped up.
“Easy,” I whispered. If we raced out of there we’d look guilty! But as soon as the word was out of my mouth, I saw why he was itching to make a run for it. Hero and his officer, Hank Riley, had just rounded the cubicle corner and were heading right toward us.
I quickened my pace, but it was too late. Hero had spotted his hero and was straining like a maniac to get to Dodge. Dodge looked up at me with a help-me expression, and I felt for him. But what could I do?
“Sorry, boy,” I whispered. “We’ve got to act casual.”
With a silent sigh Dodge sat down on his haunches and waited for the attack. I turned toward the duo, trying not to look irritated, and nearly laughed out loud. Talk about comic relief! Not only was Hero bouncing up to Dodge like he was spring-loaded, his nails sliding all over the tile floor, he had some crazy contraption strapped to his head. The young shepherd looked even goofier than usual.
Lick, lick, lick. Hero’s tongue was all over Dodge’s face, and he nearly poked him in the eye with the antenna that stuck out of the thing on his head. When Dodge didn’t react (he suffered the slobber admirably), Hero went full belly-up on the office floor. I couldn’t help but laugh. He wanted Dodge to like him so badly! Dodge, though, was not amused.
“Hey there, Cassie,” Officer Riley said, sidling up to us with an odd grin. Dodge eyed him warily, and I agreed. There was something about this guy that didn’t sit right — something I couldn’t quite put my finger on. As he stood there grinning at me, I suddenly realized that if what I’d been implying to Langtree was true — that Mom had been set up — Riley could be a suspect. Everyone in this place could be a suspect! Riley, Deb, Langtree. Everyone! My mind started spinning, thinking about inside jobs.
“Oh, hey, Officer Riley,” I replied, trying not to let my thoughts show.
Riley tugged on Hero’s leash, and he rolled back onto his belly. “Did you see our new FIDO?”
“FIDO?” I asked.
“Yeah, it stands for Firearm Intervention and Dangerous Operations. It’s a dog cam. Anything Hero sees I see on this screen here.” He proudly tapped the small screen he was carrying, which at the moment showed a strange upside-down view of Dodge’s chin. “I’ve been wanting to get my hands on one of these for a long time. It took forever, but we finally got a replacement for the one Dodge lost — er, well, it just came in the mail.”
Dodge shifted on his paws, looking miserable. Hero sat up and I bent down to check out the device strapped between his ears. It was a little crooked but looked super high-tech, with a camera lens and infrared lights for seeing at night. I didn’t want to seem overly interested and start some long conversation, though. So I pretended to be a little bored while Riley beamed at me like a kid with a new toy.
Then, quick as a wink, his expression changed to one of concern. “So, uh, how is your mom doing?” he asked, shifting on his feet. “I feel just terrible about what happened.”
Dodge cocked his head to the side — he was suspicious. Both of us were wondering if Riley should be feeling terrible. I put my hand on Dodge’s head and nodded at Riley while he yammered on about Mom’s “unfortunate situation.” He was so awkward and nervous I couldn’t tell if he was being sincere. Or not.
“Anyway, uh, I’m sure it’ll all get straightened out soon.” Riley finally trailed off.
Hero dropped low again, trying to get Dodge’s attention, and the camera slipped farther. If Dodge noticed, he didn’t show it. His eyes were glued on Riley.
“Yeah, I’m sure she’ll be back here cracking the whip before we know it,” he added. He didn’t sound convincing.
Play it cool, I told Dodge silently. Dodge heard me and looked away, feigning boredom. He even yawned. Good dog.
“Speaking of The Chief,” I said, emphasizing Mom’s suspended title and trying to sound breezy, “I’d better get home before she puts an all-points bulletin out on me and Dodge. We just came by to drop off her keys.” I smiled at my joke, and Riley threw back his head and laughed loudly. Too loudly.
I patted my leg, and Dodge was instantly by my side. “See you,” I said to Riley over his guffaws. We headed toward the door and left the laughing policeman and his whimpering dog behind us.
It was good to get outside. Really good, actually. I took a deep breath, inhaling the late afternoon air, and Dodge did a full-body shake.
We turned onto Third Street, my mind whirring like a blender. “If Mom’s been set up, it definitely could have been an inside job,” I told Dodge as he trotted steadily beside me. “Which means that everyone in that station is a suspect.” I saw his ears twitching. He was listening, like always, and I wondered if he was having as much trouble swallowing this situation as I was. “And Officer Riley seemed pretty darn suspicious….”
“Woof!” Dodge let out a sharp bark, finishing my sentence and agreeing with me all at once.
“Glad we’re thinking along the same lines,” I said with a nod. “When we get home, we’ll make some notes and see what we come up with, okay boy?”
I glanced down in time to see Dodge peel away from my side and sprint down the alley by the Smokehouse. “Dodge? Dodge, come on. We’ve got to get home.”
My partner ignored me completely — totally unlike him. “Dodge!” I called, rushing forward and squinting in the dusk. I could make out his moving tail, his nose pressed into the gap behind a Dumpster. I heard a growl. Was that Dodge, or another animal? I couldn’t see anything. “What is it?” I asked, coming up behind him. His body was tense. “What do you see?” I asked again. A low growl was the only answer I got.
I wasn’t on my game. At all. Maybe seeing Hero in the camera threw me — brought back too many memories. Maybe I was losing my edge. Didn’t matter, really. The point was, the perp got away. Again.
“Woof!” I barked at the gap behind the Dumpster. “Woof! Woof! Rarwf!” The gap was too small for me to fit through.
Cassie tried to calm me down. Her hand caressed the fur on my neck, and her voice was quiet. “What is it? Did you see someone?”
Not someone. Somedog. And I didn’t see him, I smelled him. The Burger Burglar. I got a good whiff. I was certain. He was in there, and he was hiding. I stood. Staring. Wagging. Waiting. But he wasn’t coming out.
“Let’s go, Dodge,” Cassie said. “We’ve got to get home.” But I didn’t want to go. I was a little wound up. Wound up and getting nowhere. So I let her lead me away from the gap. Away from the Burger Burglar.
She couldn’t lead me away from my thoughts, though. My thoughts about Hero with the FIDO. And Officer Riley. Cassie was right about him — he was too anxious. Laughed too loud. Tried too hard. Wanted to be liked too much.
Sometimes, when dogs really wanted to be liked, they did bad things. Really bad things. Like taking out the dogs above them. My old partner used to be above Riley, and now Riley had his job. My hackles rose. I didn’t like to think about that.
Maybe if I’d been able to stop thinking about that, I might have been able to warn Cassie about what was going to happen next. We might have been able to avoid it completely. But I was distracted. I didn’t see it coming. See her coming. Didn’t smell her, either. Cassie’s Least Favorite Person, Summer Hill. Summer Hill set Cassie’s hackles on end. If my girl was a dog, she’d show her teeth to Summer on sight. And I could see why. Summer held her nose in the air. She said mean things. She even got me banned from Cassie’s school. Grrrr.
Cassie sucked in a breath when Summer came into view. She resisted the urge to turn and run. Good girl. Cassie hated Summer Hill, but running away would make her look like a coward. It would also look ridiculous. Cassie was brave, smart, and scrappy. Summer was a prissy girl who dressed in ridiculous outfits that matched her dog’s.
Summer’s dog, Muffet, trotted next to her on the end of a rhinestone leash. She wore booties and a doggie vest with puff-ball fringe. And if that weren’t enough to make a dog tuck tail and crawl under the porch, Summer was sporting fluffy pom-pom boots and a matching, girl-size vest. They were dressed like a pair of identical cat toys. I wasn’t sure who looked sillier. But I was sure that Muffet didn’t dress herself….
I stuck close to Cassie as we approached the ridiculous duo. I could hear my girl’s teeth grinding. She was probably clamping them together to keep from saying something she’d regret. Too bad Summer could never do the same.
“Hi Casssssandra,” Summer hissed when we got close. I hated the way she said my girl’s name. Cassie did, too, but she didn’t respond.
“I heard about your mom losing her job,” Summer whined. She stuck her lip out and made a sad face. I could smell the laugh behind it. “I’m sooo sorry,” she added, blinking rapidly.
I clamped my mouth shut. The girl made me want to growl. She didn’t sound sorry. Not at all. I was thinking about plucking a pom-pom off of her boots with my teeth when I was interrupted by a yip from Muffet. I’d been purposely ignoring the kid. Trying to spare her the embarrassment of being seen by another dog in her current, uh, state. But the Maltese was asking for attention. She barked and strained on her sparkling leash. She was shaking with excitement. She probably didn’t get to see many real dogs up close.
Summer yanked her back, but Muffet kept yapping. She rose up on her hind legs to give me a good nose-to-tail sniff. I stepped closer and let her catch a good whiff. Why not? A dog had to do what a dog had to do. Even a prissy bit of a dog like Miss Muffet.
“Muffet! No!” Summer jerked the little dog back, horrified. Muffet ignored her. Her tiny tail wagged like it was in a wind storm.
“Gross. Get away from … ewww!” Summer stopped pulling on the leash and bent over to pick up Muffet. For a microdog, the Maltese had some staying power. “Come on, Muffie. Let’s get away from these … mutts!”
Pom-poms bouncing, Summer marched up the street with Muffet struggling in her arms. Cassie let out a giggle — the most noise she’d made since we left the Smokehouse. I gave a bark. We didn’t mind being called mutts. Not a bit. Mutts were gutsy and full of surprises. Mutts survived. But our laugh didn’t last. It faded quickly, and Cassie’s jaw stayed shut the rest of the way home. She walked fast and said nothing. She was thinking. We both were. Thinking about Summer and Muffet. Hero and Riley. The Mom and getting home. Yes, getting home. I was looking forward to getting home.
Only I was so busy thinking about getting home that
I forgot what being home was like. When we walked in, I was assaulted by the bad smells that were quickly becoming normal. Sharp, pungent odors that made my hackles go up. Not just cleaning products. No. I smelled a fight.
“Easy, Dodge.” Cassie ran her hand over my upright fur, trying to smooth it. Trying to calm me down. She took a few steps, scanning the kitchen, looking in the living room.
I huffed, getting used to the smell, and tried to put my fur flat. I didn’t want Cassie to think she was in danger. Not that kind of danger, anyway. I just wanted her to know something was up.
A light shone under the office door, on the far side of the living room. The Mom and The Dad were in there with the door closed. Cassie walked closer, and I followed silently.
The Sullivans didn’t usually shut each other out, but when a door was closed, it meant that someone wanted privacy. Dogs don’t do privacy. And even if we did, a door wouldn’t cut it. It took more than a slab of wood to hide smells and voices from a canine. Even when people were whispering their shouts.
“The accusations are baseless, Joe!” The Mom said. She was irritated, hissing her s’s. “I was as surprised as you are. But there’s nothing we can do now except wait and watch our budget.”
I understood the no-eavesdropping rule. I really did. And so did Cassie. But the whisper-shouts coming through the office door were impossible to ignore. I couldn’t help what I heard. And Cassie couldn’t help it if she felt like sitting down for minute. Right there. Behind the couch. Really close to the door.
I lay down next to Cassie and made myself as small as possible — not very small — and stayed still.
I could hear Cassie’s heart pumping fast, and I licked her hand.
“For how long?” The Dad asked. He sounded done. Tired.
Dead Man's Best Friend Page 3