Doctor's Orders

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Doctor's Orders Page 3

by Amber Rochelle Gillet


  “So what went wrong?”

  “Well, a few weeks back I dropped him off for a regularly scheduled grooming appointment. The owner and his wife were out of town visiting their daughter at college so they had hired a temp to cover the shifts for that day. Later, when I returned, he was gone!” He turned and faced me, clenching his fist in such a tight grip that his knuckles peaked with white heads, baby soft ones that is. “Kidnapped!”

  Several small squeaks filled the office. The famous telltale signs from when Mitexi became red faced and doubled over in restrained hysterics.

  Dr. Tom took a step forward with his best angered expression as if he could see through the divider. “Is she laughing at me?”

  “Absolutely not!”

  Mitexi escaped the room to resolve her fit of laughter in the hallway. This guy made Alice look like a bad ass. What had I been thinking?

  Quickly I continued on before losing his attention further. “Can you provide the name of the kennel?”

  Dr. Tom, although distracted, managed to continue on. “Pampered Pooches, its two blocks south of Strathshire Plaza.”

  “Isn’t that the building with faux fur siding, right next door to that new wine and cheese shop?”

  “Why yes, it’s called Charmaine’s, they offer the simply most decadent varieties!” His demeanor quickly changed. “So you are familiar with the location?”

  Oh yes, I was familiar. The area was well known for quirky shops, fancy bistros and a community that thrived with a very vibrant alternative lifestyle. Although not confirmed, missing pieces to Dr. Tom’s identity puzzle were beginning to come together.

  “I know exactly where you are talking about. My cousin Randy and his partner own a co-op right around the corner from your groomer.”

  Suddenly, my never-to-be-boyfriends cheeks began to flush. “Mr. Gregory, the owner, successfully obtained an address through the agency that referred the dog thief, but when I finally located the apartment it had been cleaned out. The landlord, Mr. Sheehan, said the occupant had left sometime in the night, only leaving a note and a full month’s rent taped to his door in an envelope.”

  “Have you contacted the police?”

  “No, I fear for Triangle’s safety and Zach’s well being from all of the attention this story could create. But he has a tracking chip so I can prove that he is ours.”

  “I understand. Where does the circus piece come in?”

  “My nurse, who lives in the next county, told me that her son brought home a flyer from school for the Central City Circus and the headliner promised their newest main attraction, a bicycling three legged dog.”

  “That seems pretty much impossible, no?” My eyebrows wrinkled in doubt.

  “Triangle can do anything!”

  Did this man hang his straight jacket on the coat rack by the door when he came in and I missed it? “I apologize, go on.”

  “Seth and I purchased tickets but when we arrived, there were only posters of Triangle. We questioned the Ring Master but he indicated that their star attraction had been not feeling well and reassured us that we would get our monies worth at the next show.”

  “Hmmm…” I pretended to take notes to give an impression of professionalism, but I had my suspicions that this was not likely a case I would confuse with any other.

  “I am certain it was because he ate too many rocks. What if they move again before we can get him back? What if he is already gone?” Dr. Tom dropped his head into his hands and whimpered again, silently this time.

  Okay, I really could use a drink right now. “So when is the next scheduled date?”

  He responded with a muffled, snot filled reply that I couldn’t quite understand. But thanks to the internet, my desire to ask him a second time was minimal.

  “I’m going to step out of the office for a few minutes and give you some space. Would you mind writing down any key information that I should know about?” I placed my notebook atop the coffee table and excused myself into the hallway.

  Mitexi was just returning from the bathroom. “Okay I will have another baby and give it to Alice, just to save you from having to do it with him.”

  “I’m so glad you offered because I would have felt awkward asking.” I smoothed the front of my pant suit. “Anyway, dressed like this I am pretty sure I could snag up any stud I want.”

  “The man is a nut job! I mean I feel for Circle, but I am not sure that it didn’t throw itself under that tire.”

  “Triangle.”

  “What?”

  “Never mind, you may be on to something.”

  “Besides, you are a petite girl and his waist is even tinier! You never want to date a man that wears a smaller pant size than your own. You two would go up like a couple of matchsticks the minute you rubbed together.”

  I laughed until some pee leaked out. “I’ve got to get back inside; I’m worried he will try to jump!”

  Dr. Tom was leaning against Mitexi’s desk when we returned. “Here are the details you asked for.”

  “So am I officially hired?”

  He nodded as if it was the last ounce of energy he could afford.

  “Fantastic! I’ll drop our standard contract with your receptionist in the morning. If you need to reach me, just dial this number.” I extended a business card as he stood. “Would you mind if I hold onto the picture for a few days?”

  “Yes, but please, guard it with your life. If we don’t get him back…”

  “You have my word.” Okay, maybe I felt a small pang of sympathy for the guy.

  6

  The next evening as Alice hurried to put the final touches in place for our dinner guests, I carved out some time to review the notes that Dr. Tom had left for me; but the dishes were clanking against each other so loudly as she dropped them in the sink that keeping my focus was a challenge.

  “Could you use some help?” I called out to her from our second floor hallway.

  “Yes, if you wouldn’t mind tidying up the coat closet that would be great!”

  Certain that I had misunderstood her request, I skipped down the stairs and stepped into the kitchen.

  “Excuse me? Did you say the coat closet?”

  “I sure did. Go ahead and line up the winter boots from smallest to largest and then organize the coats by color.”

  “Did you already get started on the wine? Come over here so I can smell you.”

  “I am not drunk! It is good manners to invite company to hang their belongings in a space that is organized.”

  “Fine.” I contemplated arguing with her, but if the food wasn’t ready when Mitexi got here and it was my fault, it was unlikely that she’d let me forget it.

  The closet received the abridged version of what Alice would consider a thorough ‘once over’; anything that wasn’t mentioned in her specific instructions was pushed right to the back and covered with the longer coats. I smiled with the same satisfaction of an eight year old that cleans their room by hiding all belongings under the bed, but only because I knew Alice was too busy for an inspection. But just to be cautious and avoid any possible questioning on why my assignment didn’t take very long, I returned to the kitchen and offered up my services for the next ridiculous task she had on her checklist.

  “Anything else I can help with? The closet looks fantastic!”

  Alice ignored my sarcasm. “Make sure all of the condiments on the fridge door are alphabetical.”

  “For real?”

  “Paula!”

  “Alright!”

  Ketchup, lemon juice, mayonnaise, olives and pickles had just been coordinated in synch with her request when I heard the Navigator pull into our driveway. Grateful that they’d finally arrived, I hurried to the back stoop to welcome our guests in.

  Mitexi entered first with Phillip trailing close behind with a less than delighted expression. “Thank you for having us Mrs. Stone.”

  “You’re welcome dear! Please give Paula your coat and she’ll take care of it for you.�


  I turned to my mother and protested. “All of that work and they aren’t even going to look inside the closet?”

  “Take the coats!” Alice snarled through gritted teeth.

  Mitexi laughed under her breath as she hung hers over my bent arm. “Better do what your mother says.”

  “Oh yeah, where is your mother?”

  She looked at the floor and sighed. “Getting the baby, I am not allowed to transport Istas between the truck and house because this is my first baby and I might not know what I am doing.”

  Sympathy danced off my tongue. “If you asked me, it is time to start checking out more of those 55+ communities.”

  Phillip chimed in. “Count in my vote; I’ll pay for both your mothers’ living arrangements if it will speed things along.”

  Enola emerged from the doorway. “What are you kids talking about?” She handed Istas’s car carrier over to Mitexi as if she were finally worthy.

  “Nothing!” All three of us answered harmoniously; fully aware of the animated level of chaos that would take place if either mother became privy to our secret wishes.

  We chatted and wooed over the baby, taking in the rich scents of the secret meal Alice had diligently prepared all afternoon. Finally dinner was ready, wine was poured and the steaming Pyrex bake wear was positioned in the center of the table on appropriately sized trivets, because my mother wouldn’t have it any other way.

  Enola, always skeptical over another’s cooking, looked over the feast in front of us and then turned to my mother. “So, what do we have here?”

  “Let’s see…” Alice pondered over the delicacies in front of her, careful to announce each one in order. “We have succotash, Buffalo stew also known as Tanka-me-a-lo, fry bread, squash and for desert I prepared Navajo Peach Pudding.” She beamed with delight at the wide eyes staring back at her. “Oh! And I picked up some whiskey too, if the wine doesn’t have enough kick!”

  Fearing her response but feeling obligated as the daughter of the clearly insane hostess, I inquired. “Mom? Where did you come up with this menu?”

  “Well, I started with Wikipedia; I wanted to present authentic Native American cuisine, to welcome their heritage into our home. From there I looked up the recipes. Isn’t it great?”

  Phillip chuckled over his plate as Enola requested that we start with the whiskey for an appetizer. Mitexi insisted that baby Istas needed changing and I frantically racked my brain on how I would find a new best friend and business partner.

  Suddenly there was a quick knock at the back door. Ron stuck his head in. “Hello? Am I interrupting anything?”

  As always, my Dad and his impeccable timing became our saving grace. Although, I was surprised by his unexpected appearance.

  “God no!” I spoke up immediately for fear he would change his mind about visiting and leave us to wallow in the awkward silence that screamed throughout the room.

  Alice scrambled to pull together an extra setting, completely unaware of the obvious tension that she had created. “We were just getting ready to eat! Paula, grab your father another chair from the den.”

  Ron addressed the guests. “My apologies, I was certain you had already eaten.”

  I returned with his favorite seat, the one my mother banished from the kitchen after he moved out, and placed it next to mine.

  “Don’t be silly! We are happy, extremely happy you are here. Let’s eat!” I grabbed the ladle. “Okay, who wants Tanka-me-a-lo?”

  Phillip was first to respond. I was pretty certain he was taking pity on me so that when I needed a good lawyer, because there would be a time when Alice would succeed in offending to the point of no return, he could be confident that I would reach out to him first. In fact, if this group wasn’t so close to me, it was very likely that I would have had to be in his office tomorrow at 8 a.m.

  As everyone received their helping, Ron leaned over and whispered in my ear. “Let me guess, you’re mom decided to go with authentic for the menu.”

  I smiled to confirm my response. “Whiskey?”

  “Yes!” The question intended for my dad was welcomed by everyone.

  We passed the bottle around and as the discomfort at the table began to lighten, Alice tapped her water glass with a butter knife, as if she needed any sort of assistance in gaining attention.

  “Paula, I have invited your father over because we have a surprise for you!”

  I looked to my dad with mixed emotions. On one hand, I knew he would never intentionally subject me to the same chagrin as my mother, but her emphasis of ‘we’ definitely had me worried.

  After dabbing away a remnant of stew from the corner of his mouth, the napkin was placed carefully on his plate because he knew Alice hated it, and turned his attention in my direction.

  “Your mother and I are very proud of the recent strides you have accomplished in such a short amount of time, so we thought it best to provide you with an incentive to keep going in the right direction; not to mention your mother told me you were robbed yesterday. Who steals a meter maid outfit?” Mitexi choked. “So please accept our gift and refrain from public transportation going forward unless absolutely necessary!”

  “I’m not sure I understand.”

  “You idiot! They bought you a car!” Mitexi declared the obvious that I had somehow missed.

  “Really?” I instantly reached to hug my father while my mother, determined not to be left out, slid between us before our embrace was locked.

  “Easy Alice, if Darlene was here she might think you were trying to win me back.” Ron always had jokes.

  Mitexi and I scampered toward the window, wiped away the condensation that had collected because of the warm kitchen, and stood in awe as we focused on my new ride.

  I frantically searched for the words that wouldn’t sound, well the way I was actually feeling inside. “Um, is that Uncle Gordie’s truck?”

  Alice pushed apart our heads in an attempt to confirm that I must be misunderstood and then quickly looked back over her shoulder. “Ron?”

  “Yes, it is your Uncle’s! When I arrived at Philcos Lot this morning he was there wheeling and dealing with the salesman. I knew he had no payments on the thing, so we worked out a compromise. Isn’t it great?”

  Alice was extra blotchy now. “But he had sex on it, and quite possibly in it!”

  “Don’t get all worked up over such a minor detail, besides I had it detailed. You wouldn’t throw out your picnic blanket just because it got rained on, would you?”

  “This is a much different kind of rain.” My mother has never been the same since she saw the pictures of Uncle Gordie unleashing his inner animal during my last investigation.

  In an attempt to break the cycle of escalating argument that was about to explode, I offered a new perspective. “Hey, this is like those TV shows where the 16 year old gets surprised with a first car on her birthday!”

  “Well had I known that, I would have brought you a hand woven quilt as a gift to keep in line with this traditional setting we are enjoying!” Enola snapped her head back and finished off a fourth shot.

  Assuming we were all serious, Alice returned right back into her earlier state of oblivion regarding the festivities of the evening. “Well then let’s have desert! Now who’s ready for some Navajo pudding?”

  7

  Early the next morning, I picked Mitexi up in the fancy hand me down gift I’d received for my fake birthday. We noted how Aunt DeDe’s side had a worn groove from her distinct bottom, making it obvious that she still spent a significant amount of time in the truck, before yesterday that is, so we chose to believe that the detailing guy probably didn’t have to do a complete overhaul in the front. Otherwise Uncle Gordie, without a doubt, would have been murdered weeks ago.

  After typing our destination into my GPS we headed out with a mission. Our goal was to speak to the landlord of 122 Beechnut, the last known address of the suspected dog snatcher. Dr. Tom reported the culprit’s name to be Andy Billo
ws, which he obtained from the correspondence that temporary agency who had sent him to Pretty Pets had provided.

  We arrived to find at a moderate three family that only had shutters hung on the first floor. Random patches of cedar shingles showed disrepair and a dying Christmas wreath hung from the front door, but other than that the lot appeared average for the neighborhood.

  After pulling into the driveway, we zipped our coats and then bravely exited the truck; it was one severely cold day outside. Mitexi rang the buzzer and I danced in place to keep my circulation moving while waiting for our man to answer the door.

  Finally, an older gentleman appeared in a plaid flannel bathrobe, a green Irish tam topped with a white pom pom and faux rawhide slippers complimented by thick rubber soles. “Can I help you?” His gruff voice was the victim of what had to be at least a 3 pack a day habit.

  “Mr. Sheehan? My name is Paula Stone from PMS Private Investigators.” I giggled while flashing the shiny business card as proof because I felt important, but then Mitexi stomped on my foot so I cleared my throat and continued on. “This is my partner Mitexi. We understand a Mr. Andy Billows was living her recently. Can you confirm?”

  “Aye ma’am, if I should even call you that. Just how old are ya two lasses?”

  “I assure you we are of legal age.” Did he really think I’d confess that creeping number? Especially to a man; I don’t care how un-attractive he is!

  “Very well then, get in here. Yer wastin’ all me blasted oil.”

  We stepped inside and hung our winter gear on the brass coat rack on his left. Wheel of Fortune blared from the tube style TV, which was positioned barely 10 inches from a worn tweed covered recliner. I noticed it had dual UHF and VHF knobs and large rabbit ears wrapped in tinfoil perched atop the wood laminate exterior. If that set was in my bedroom back at Alice’s, it would have complimented the outdated decor perfectly.

 

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