The Silence of the Chihuahuas

by Waverly Curtis

  Eons went by. Galaxies were born and died and born again. I read the fate of mankind in the labyrinth of lights that danced in front of my closed eyes.

  Pepe’s Blog: Stranger Danger

  My partner, Geri, was in danger! I raced toward the main building, which I had seen her enter with the doctor.

  Sometimes it is a disadvantage to be a little dog no taller than five inches. That is especially true when facing doors with handles and knobs that are several feet above your head. Just consider what it would be like trying to enter a door that is five stories tall and you will get a picture of the enormous obstacles I faced.

  Usually cuteness helps when height hinders. I can prevail upon others to open doors for me by giving them a soulful look with my big brown eyes or tipping my long pink ears just so. But there was no one around nearby to help me gain entrance so I could warn Geri.

  I raced to the front of the building and peered through the glass doors but there was no one seated at the receptionist desk to respond to my scratching. I raced around to the back just in time to see the door slam shut as a man in a suit clutching a gun exited the building. The gun had not been fired recently. That was good. The man smelled familiar. One of the men who had been watching our casa. But I could not smell either Amber or Party Girl in his scent cloud. Was he friend or foe?

  I thought I should follow him and see what he did. He headed toward the trees where I had been watching the man who was threatening Geri. Perhaps we could team up to take him down.

  But when we returned to the thicket, the man was gone. Vanished like the slugs whose slimy tracks glistened in the morning sun. The man with the gun was frustrated. He pulled out a cell phone and conferred with someone else. But I knew right where the evil one had gone. I could follow his scent trail as surely as if he had left a slime trail all the way up to the front of the main building. Just as I rounded the corner, I heard shots and shrieks and glass breaking.

  Chapter 21

  I don’t know how much time had passed, but at some point I was roused enough from my peaceful contemplation of the meaning of life to consider that I might want to leave the womb-like shelter of the isolation tank. I reached out my hand, ever so languidly to push the lid open, just a crack, to see if I was ready to be reborn into a chaotic world, and the darn thing wouldn’t budge.

  I pushed again, harder, and nothing happened. I took both hands and shoved, and nothing. Nada.

  It began to sink in: the sign that read ATTENDANT MUST BE PRESENT. Apparently, it was not possible to open the isolation tank from the inside. I freaked out. I shrieked. I pounded on the lid. So what if the goon with the gun heard me? At least I would be out of my watery tomb. But even as my cries faded away in the muffled interior I realized that the isolation tank was soundproof. No one could hear me. No one knew that I was trapped inside.

  My brain was working feverishly. Was Lacey still alive? Did she know where I was? What would happen when Felix came to pick me up? Would they find me then? And, most of all, where was my dog? My champion, my partner? Never again would I allow myself to be separated from him. Forget Dr. Lieberman.

  I curled up in a ball and wept quietly.

  And then I heard scrabbling at the edges of the lid. A thump and it flew back. I cowered back. I closed my eyes. The light was so bright. I heard voices, a medley of voices. They grated on my hushed ears. And then I heard the voice I was most longing to hear calling my name: “Geri!”

  “Pepe!” I shouted and rose from my lukewarm bath, in my dripping wet wedding gown, to grab my little dog, his pink ears just visible over the edge of the isolation tank.

  “Geri!” he said again, licking my face. “You taste like the Dead Sea. Did I ever tell you about my trip to Jerusalem?”

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” I said, and then realized there were several other people in the room.

  One was Felix. He was taking in my wet wedding dress with distress in his eyes. Behind him, I saw Lacey and Dr. Lieberman. But no goon with a gun.

  “What happened?” I asked.

  “Your dog took down the bad guy with the gun,” said Lacey. Her eyes were shining. “He was so brave. The guy had me in a headlock and was dragging me down the hall, making me open all the doors with his gun trained on me. Your dog came flying out of nowhere and bit his wrist, so that he dropped the gun. Then the other guy—”

  “The Marshall,” said Dr. Lieberman.

  “Came running in and cuffed him.”

  “But then we couldn’t find you,” Dr. Lieberman said.

  “I thought maybe you had escaped through the side door,” Lacey said.

  “But your dog kept coming and scratching on this door, so finally we opened up the door and then your dog scratched at the tank, and so we opened the lid and there you were!”

  “I take back everything I said about your dog,” said Dr. Lieberman. “Obviously you two deserve each other.”

  I wasn’t sure what he meant by that last sentence, but it didn’t matter.

  “What did he say about me?” Pepe asked.

  “That you are the bravest, smartest best partner any girl could have,” I said, kissing him between his ears.

  “That’s when I arrived,” said Felix, clearly wanting to be part of the story. “But why are you wearing a wedding dress?”

  “It’s a long story,” I said, “and I’ll tell you in the car. I just want to get out of here.” I was shivering.

  “I think we should give her a complimentary bathrobe,” Lacey said to Dr. Lieberman.

  So I signed the discharge papers and got into Felix’s car in my bright blue Forest Glen velour bathrobe with Velcro fastenings. The wedding dress went into the plastic bag. Pepe rode cuddled in my arms, and Felix, who usually insists the dogs who travel in his car must travel in crates in the back, did not say a word. I think he was a little miffed that I called out Pepe’s name before his.

  I only had about thirty minutes to tell Felix everything that had happened as he drove me back to my car, which was still parked in the parking lot at the Bellevue Country Club. It seemed like another day entirely although it had been less than twenty-four hours since the aborted wedding ceremony. I was so glad that the Marshalls were going to take over the search for Amber. Even if it did mean giving up my cell phone.

  “But what about you?” I asked Felix, who was shaking his head. “How was your day yesterday?”

  Felix laughed. It was actually something between a snort and a laugh. “I thought it was pretty exciting,” he said, “until I heard what you were up to . . .”

  “The things we were doing,” said Pepe. “We were saving lives!”

  “So what happened? Did you get the job?” I asked. As a good girlfriend I wanted the answer to be yes, because I knew Felix deserved success. As a bad girlfriend, I wanted the answer to be no, so he would stay in Seattle.

  “We don’t know yet,” said Felix. “There was a little glitch. The first dog we lined up didn’t work out. So they’re looking for a new dog to film.”

  “So you’re still filming?”

  “Yes. The plan is to shoot today. And look at the rough edit tonight at Rebecca’s house. They’ll probably announce their decision then. I really want you to be there. I was calling to tell you about that and then . . .”

  His voice trailed off.

  “I wasn’t answering my phone,” I said. “They took it away from me at Forest Glen.”

  “At first, I thought you were just having a good time at the wedding,” he said, “but then when you still weren’t home at 2 a.m. and then at 3 a.m., well, I started to get worried. . . .”

  I could see by the look on his face that he wasn’t so much worried about my whereabouts but about who I had been with.

  “You did not need to worry,” said Pepe. “I can take care of her very well.”

  “You didn’t take care of me when I needed you,” I said, thinking of how he had run off.

  “I’m sorry, Geri,” said Felix. “I felt I had an obligat
ion. Rebecca had set up the whole shoot around my schedule.”

  “Oh, no, not you,” I said. I wouldn’t expect him to give up his career just to attend a wedding with me. Would I? That would be so shallow. “I was talking to Pepe.”

  “Did they cure him of his talking at Forest Glen?” He was trying to bring a note of levity into a serious conversation.

  “Actually he started talking again,” I said, “and I am so happy about it.”

  “Did he tell you why he stopped?”

  “Yes, he said he was worried because everybody thought I was crazy.”

  “Oh, so getting admitted to Forest Glen solved that problem,” Felix said with a laugh.

  “Yes, now everyone knows I am officially crazy!” I said.

  I promised to call Felix as soon as I got back to my house. He was on his way back to Rebecca’s, but he was clearly worried about me. I don’t think he completely believed my story or that I should be wandering around on my own.

  I was so happy to get home and get out of the blue bathrobe and into regular clothes. I took a quick shower and put on a pair of black sweat pants, a tank top and my favorite fuzzy sweater. Perfect for lounging at home. I wasn’t going anywhere.

  Pepe had polished off his bowl of dry food and gone racing into the living room to work on his iPpad. I swear that dog is addicted to his technology. Albert the Cat had been furious when Pepe and I walked in the door. He kept up a volley of angry meows.

  “If you don’t watch it,” I told him, while pouring some more kibbles into his bowl, “I’ll give you back to Jeff.”

  That reminded me. I needed to call Jeff and find out if Amber had been returned.

  Jeff said that the FBI had taken over and the whole thing was out of their hands. He sounded frantic. “What if they mess it up?” he said. And then, “This is all your fault.” I hung up on him.

  But I did think I should call Jimmy G and see if he had learned anything new during his stakeout.

  “Geri! Thank God you called!” said Jimmy G when I dialed his number.

  “What?”

  “Jimmy G was worried about you,” he said. “Jimmy G was calling your cell phone and this man kept answering and saying Jimmy G should stop calling. Something about an official investigation.”

  “The Marshalls took my phone away,” I said. “They took over the investigation and they told me to stop looking for my sister. Did you learn something?”

  “Jimmy G learned that he can bowl better at around four stiff drinks.”

  “Anything about the kidnapping?” I asked, annoyed.

  “No,” said Jimmy G. “There was some action last night. A couple of big guys, built like tanks, came in and talked to a little old man in a pork pie hat who was sitting in a booth on the bar side. He gave them some money and they left. I tried to follow them but by the time I paid my bill and got out to the parking lot, they were gone.”

  “I bet those were the two goons who showed up at Forest Glen!” I said.

  “Someone came to the loony bin looking for you?”

  “Yeah, but it was OK. Brad saved me at the cottage and Pepe and the Marshall took down the guy who busted into the main building.” I paused. “Sounds like the guy in the pork pie hat might know something.” Then I frowned as I heard what I was saying. “Who wears a pork pie hat anymore? That’s so old school.”

  “Mobsters,” said Jimmy G. “Good guys wear fedoras.”

  “Whatever.” I really didn’t think sartorial choices could help you identify criminals. “Are you going back there?”

  “Sure. Got to work on my bowling score,” said Jimmy G. “But that’s not why Jimmy G is glad you called. That old lady has been bugging me. Calling all morning. Every five minutes. She’s freaking out.”

  “Mrs. Snelson?”

  “Yes, you’ve got to call her. ASAP. Get her off Jimmy G’s back.”

  “Will do.”

  “Thanks, doll.”

  As soon as Jimmy G hung up, I called Mrs. Snelson.

  “Oh, I’m so grateful you called,” Mrs. Snelson said. “I’ve been calling your cell phone since early this morning and I keep getting some gentleman who tells me that it is out of service and I should not call the number again. I was so worried about you, dear.”

  “I’m OK, Mrs. Snelson,” I said. “That’s a U.S. Marshall and he’s helping me on another case.”

  “Oh, my!” she said. “Do you think he would be available to help you on my case? It’s gotten much more desperate.”

  “What happened?”

  “I woke up this morning to find that someone had entered my apartment while I was asleep and covered my bed with rose petals.”

  “Oh!” I said. And then added, “I could see how that might be upsetting.”

  “I want you and Pepe here right away!” she said.

  “You can help me catch this fiend.” And then she added, “I’ll make you a lovely hot breakfast. How do you like your eggs, dear?”

  Pepe’s Blog: Naming Your Cases

  I only have a short time to post an update because we are off on another important case, the Case of the Senior Stalker, as I think I shall name it. We have not yet brought to a satisfactory conclusion our other two cases: The Case of the Missing Sister and The Case of the Deadly Decorator. I know Geri does not believe that her friend Brad is involved in the death of his client, but I am not convinced. Besides the alliteration in the title is quite nice.

  Geri seems to have forgotten all about Amber and Party Girl, or rather she believes the U.S. Marshalls and the FBI and the Bellevue police can do a better job than Sullivan and Sullivan. I beg to differ, but when I brought this up in the car on the way home, she told me that since she no longer has her cell phone, the kidnappers will no longer contact her and there’s nothing we can do about it. I objected to this as well, and pointed out that we had assigned Jimmy G to do some surveillance. She muttered something about a pork pie hat, which I don’t understand because why would anyone put a nice pork pie into a hat.

  I was researching this question when Geri told me that Mrs. Snelson needed us. And she was prepared to make us breakfast. I suppose it does make sense to get fortified before tackling anything too demanding. And some nice crispy bacon would do the trick.

  Chapter 22

  I called Jay right before we left for Mrs. Snelson’s. He was pretty upset when I described my encounter with Brad at Forest Glen. I promised to drive over and give him a more complete update after we were done with Mrs. Snelson. And breakfast. I didn’t think it would take longer than an hour.

  It had rained during the night and the streets were still wet. But the sun was just poking through the clouds when we arrived at the Gladstone. I parked in almost the same spot I had parked in when we first visited Mrs. Snelson. Bruiser was still chained to the tree in the front yard. He lay in the mud, his massive chin resting on his two front paws, staring rather listlessly at Pepe.

  “Don’t even think about it,” I said to Pepe as we walked by. Pepe has a tendency to bark and growl at bigger dogs. I wasn’t sure how Bruiser would react.

  “You tell me not to think about the canine prisoner? A poor beast who is confined simply because of his exuberant nature? You ask me not to care about a fellow creature who is—” Pepe was about to launch into a much longer speech when I cut him off

  “I thought you didn’t like Bruiser,” I said.

  The big dog lifted his head hopefully at the sound of his name. I could see the bones under the hide of brown and grey. He was definitely a lot skinnier than the last time we had seen him.

  “My heart aches for any animal in captivity,” Pepe replied. “Have I ever told you about the time that I freed all the animals in the traveling Mexican circus owned by the Amigo Brothers?”

  “No, you have not,” I said sharply. “And I don’t believe for a moment that you did that.”

  “Si,” said Pepe. “A mangy lion, two elephants, and a bear who knew how to juggle. I wonder where they are now. The last tim
e I saw them they were heading for the Pacific coast.” His voice sounded melancholic. “I wonder if they made it.”

  “I am sure you were their hero,” I said, thinking it never hurts to appreciate good deeds.

  “Yes, as I will be for this poor beast,” said Pepe. He turned and trotted up the path towards the front door of the run-down house. I shuddered as he passed right under the nose of the big dog, but Bruiser was so dispirited he didn’t even snarl or snap. In fact, he staggered to his feet and looked at Pepe with something like admiration as Pepe mounted the sagging front steps of the old wooden house.

  “Come back here!” I commanded. Of course, Pepe did not obey me. Instead he scratched on the screen door.

  “OK, I’m coming after you,” I said, dashing up the front walk and hoping to snatch up my dog before he could cause any more trouble.

  But I was too late. Just as I got to the top step, the wooden front door swung open. The smell of marijuana came wafting out. Through the rusted scrim of the screen, I could see a young woman with long dark hair streaked with purple. It was parted in the middle and hanging down, almost obscuring her pale face. She had a nose ring in her nose and her eyes were pink around the rims, as if she had been crying, but perhaps it was just from what she was smoking. She wore a long black dress with a corset bodice that she probably bought at Hot Topic and she had tattoos of snakes and roses coiling up both arms.

  “What do you want?” she said, licking her lips, which were cracked.

  “Hi, I’m Geri Sullivan,” I said. “I was just visiting someone across the street and noticed your dog.”

  “He’s not my dog,” she said. She didn’t bother to give me her name.

  “Whose dog is he?”

  “My boyfriend Casey. It’s his dog.”

  “OK,” I said, snatching up Pepe, “but will you tell your boyfriend that he shouldn’t keep his dog chained up like that?”