Dogs Don't Lie

by Clea Simon

  “You just want to check on that…dog.” Her voice could have fixed the polar ice caps.

  I shrugged and stood up. Time to get dressed again. Time to get back into the fray. “What of it? She’s connected to the account. And animals are property in this state.”

  She jumped off the table and left the room without another word.

  CHAPTER TWO

  “What’s with you, anyway, Pru? You used to be such a nice gal.” Albert was all right, as far as town officials go. But I was at the pound to see Lily, not discuss my personal life. “You get your heart broken or something?”

  “It was you, Al.” Clean and freshly caffeinated, I’d figured I’d start here, move onto the cops next. Wallis might have nailed me in terms of sentiment, but there’s no arguing with bills. “I never got over you.”

  Albert snorted. Fat, bearded, and dressed in flannel from Labor Day to July 4, he’d been a few years ahead of me in school. Unlike me, he’d never left. Story was, he’d been a cop himself for a few years, until the booze started to tell. He must have drunk with the right people, though, and rather than let him go, they’d moved him next door into the shelter job when old Sheldon had died. Sheldon had been an old-school dog catcher. Albert had taken a week of training and knew words like zoonotics, but basically he sold licenses, trapped the occasional questionable raccoon, and housed found animals. Anything more serious was passed on to the county shelter. Or to me, since I came back. As I’ve said, animal control owes me some favors.

  “No, really. You took off out of here like a bat from hell. Then, what, fifteen years later you come back? Don’t tell me it was just to nurse your mother.”

  I didn’t, it wasn’t. Though I now live in the house she left me, the same house I used to sneak out of as a teenager. “I’m here about Lily.” Basic principle of training: no response often gets the best results. This time, it got me a blank look. “The bitch I brought in this morning?”

  He started to snigger, and I stared him down.

  “I don’t have any record of a Lily,” his voice had gone sulky. I was standing in front of his desk. He was sitting behind it, and he wasn’t going through any paperwork.

  “Tetris, I mean.” I turned away and tried to focus. Something was nibbling at the corners of my consciousness, distracting me. “Her license says Tetris.” That’s when I saw Frank, Albert’s masked ferret, curled upon the guest chair beside the desk.

  Under the bark, under the bark…grubs grubs grubs. The little bandit was dreaming. No wonder I was preoccupied. A wave of sensation hit me: a rich, dark scent. Mulch.

  “Take your pet to work day?” Tree mold, tree mold. There! Frank was a little obsessive. It’s a weasel thing. I couldn’t help smiling as I watched those tiny black claws twitch. He was certainly preferable to Albert. Cleaner, too.

  Get it get it get it. Sweet!

  “Perk of the job.” It wasn’t, but I turned my smile his way anyway. I needed info. He reached to pet the ferret, trying for nonchalant. Asshole. “Ow!”

  “I think you woke him.” I couldn’t be sure if the ferret had appropriated human invective or if that had been a comment on Albert’s hygiene, but I made a note not to shake his hand. “Better put some antibiotic on that.”

  Albert whipped his nipped finger out of his mouth, drying it on today’s flannel. This week’s anyway. Another reason to avoid contact. “It’ll be fine. Ferrets are like that.”

  I nodded; the lie wasn’t worth the energy. “Tetris?”

  “Yeah? The killer dog? What do you want with that animal anyway?”

  “Nothing, just thought I’d peek at whatever license info is on file.” Now it was my turn to play it cool. Albert was essentially harmless, but he wasn’t above a little blackmail.

  “That’s confidential, Pru.” His eyes left me feeling greasy. “Government property.”

  “I only want to see what he wrote down.” I kicked at the linoleum like a schoolgirl.

  “Yeah?”

  For a moment, I thought I’d overplayed. But in for a penny, in for a pound. At this pound, anyway. “I was the dog’s trainer, Albert. I assume there’s going to be an investigation.” I lowered my eyes and my voice to match. “I only want to get ahead of it. I mean, it’s just me now.”

  “I don’t think anyone could blame you for what happened, Pru.” Bingo. He was up and looking through the file cabinet behind his desk. “I mean, Chuck was the one who adopted that mutt.”

  “I don’t think she’s a mutt, actually.” The ferret’s vivid dreams must have slowed my reflexes; I was getting images of shiny things. A piece of foil, a sparkling stone. Something decayed. Very distracting. “Chuck? You knew him?”

  “Yeah, sure.” Albert gave up on the cabinet and squatted on the floor to paw through his desk drawers. From what I could see, the files inside were more of a mess than the ones in the cabinet. But after only a few seconds he pulled a manila folder out, giving a grunt of satisfaction as he sank back into his chair. He didn’t see Frank as the slinky beast slipped into the drawer. Nor did he hand the file over. “Chuck wasn’t a bad guy.” He lay the folder over his crotch and smiled. “For a yuppie carpetbagger, anyway. I used to see him down at Happy’s. He liked to toss a few back, and he didn’t mind rubbing elbows with the locals. Rubbing more than that, if you know what I mean.”

  “Oh?” I slid into the guest chair, swinging it around to face Albert. “Anyone in particular?”

  “You didn’t know?” Now it was Albert’s turn to grin. Not a good look. “He was a friendly guy, our Chuck. I guess money’s a big turn on.”

  “Hey, I worked for the guy. That’s it.” I didn’t know why I was protesting. Small towns are the same everywhere. Still, I could use the information. I glanced down at the folder. Back up at Albert. Stopped just short of batting my lashes. “Doesn’t mean I didn’t wonder.”

  “Sorry, Pru. You were too long in the tooth for him, anyway.” He leaned in until I could smell his breath. “Word was, he’d gotten pretty serious with Delia Cochrane.”

  “Word?” Albert’s people skills were as reliable as his hygiene. I’d never seen another human in Charles’ house. He’d never mentioned a significant other, either.

  “Okay, I saw them together. She’d come meet him at Happy’s. But, you know, she and Chris Moore go way back. So, I didn’t know. You know.”

  “Yeah.” I didn’t, but I’d sort it out. Delia Cochrane had been a few years behind me at Beauville High. I thought of dirty blond hair, awkward elbows, and braces, but people change. She’d be in her late twenties by now. Maybe thirty. Old enough to drink, anyway, and Happy’s was the bar where Charles had found Lily. “I get you.” I leaned forward, onto the desk, and tried not to inhale. “The license info?”

  He forced his mouth shut. “Oh, yeah, it was all in order. Got to be, with a pit bull, or whatever that monster is.”

  I dropped my voice lower and tried to tone out the ferret. He’d found something tasty. “You have any info on next of kin?” I forced myself to focus on Albert. “Who gets the animal, maybe?”

  “Who gets it? I think that bitch has got two quick shots and an incinerator in her future.” The way he said “bitch” made me think he meant more than the dog. I ignored it. “Uh, legally? Chuck’s mom, probably. She was listed on his contact forms. Pretty sad, huh?”

  I looked at the fat, slovenly Albert and tried to piece it together. “Why do you say that?” I had to focus, but the smell of chewing gum was overpowering. Frank had found the mother lode.

  “Guy was thirty-three. His closest contact was his mother?”

  “Least he had one, Al.” My age. Funny, I’d pegged him for younger. “And, hey, you should keep an eye on your pet. Gum’s not a proper treat for ferrets.” I nodded toward the desk drawer and, with a glance at me, Albert pulled it open. Frank jumped out, holding a small ball of wadded foil. Rat! I had to bite my tongue to keep from responding and forced my attention back to Albert. I could tell I’d confused him. Best to g
et back on track. “It’s the sugar, Albert. It’s not good for them. Now, tell me, do you have her number?”

  “You swing that way, Pru? I can tell you, Delia’s not telling any tales.” He made air quotes, so I’d get the pun, such as it was.

  “The mother, Al. I want to talk to her about the dog.”

  “Christ, Pru.” He pushed his chair back, a pained expression on his pale round face. “Her son’s just been killed. I don’t know if she’s even been notified yet.”

  “So, do you have it?” He blanched. “Her number, Albert.”

  “No, I don’t know. She’s someplace in Raynbourne, I think.” He shoved the folder under his desk blotter. “Why don’t you ask the cops?”

  “Yeah, maybe I will.” So Charles hadn’t been a city boy. Not originally, anyway. I stood up. “The keys, Albert?”

  “Huh?”

  I walked over to the metal door beside the file cabinet. “I assume you keep this locked, Al. What with your concern for the public safety.”

  “You sure you want to go in there?” I fixed him with a look. “Okay, your call.” He opened the first door, and we passed through a room lined with cages. The only occupant, an exhausted tabby, dreamed of a softer bed. The next door, which led to the isolation area, was either soundproof or Lily had barked herself out. Through its small, wired window I could see the white dog pacing in the farthest cage. Albert followed my gaze. “We’re just holding her till we get clearance, then…” He pointed his forefinger and lowered his thumb like a trigger.

  “They do it by injection now, Albert.” I kept my voice calm but my mind was racing. Clearance? I’d assumed there’d be an investigation. Charles’ house being a crime scene and all.

  “Either way, that dog’s a menace.”

  “She’s had her shots, so she’s not a public health risk.” I needed to talk to the mother, maybe the girlfriend, definitely to Lily. “Maybe I can dig up her records. I was working with her.”

  “Great job you did.” He unlocked the door. “Call me when it’s time to lock up. Or I’ll listen for the screams.”

  ***

  The reek nearly floored me. As it was, it took all my will power not to bolt. Instead, I backed up against the door, my hand on the knob as a promise that I could, and tried to keep my breathing shallow, through my mouth.

  At first, I couldn’t see, the stench was so strong. Warm and sweet, like barbecue sauce gone bad, with something metallic—shredded foil?—in the mix. Something darker, too. Sweat and shit and…

  “Oh, God.” I gagged. I couldn’t do this. Then I turned around, my vision cleared and I knew. That smell wasn’t real. Not now anyway. Not here. I turned and found myself staring into the lost, dark eyes of Lily. This was the poor beast’s personal hell I was experiencing, just as she had since that morning. I’d walked right into it.

  “Lily, it’s me. Pru. Can you focus on me, sweetie?” I kept my voice low and moved slowly toward the cage. It took all my energy to block out the scent memory, while focusing on the dog. “Can you do that for me?”

  She turned to face me, her broad flat muzzle now clean and white. I wondered briefly how that had happened. She’d been hosed down, I’d bet, with no concern for the chill of autumn or the force of the water on her skin.

  “What did they do to you, Lily? Can you tell me?” That wasn’t what I wanted to know. But she was barely here. I needed to ground her, bring her back, for both our sakes. “Honey?”

  I held my hand out, palm up and lower than her heavy head. This dog had been hit so often in her youth that her first inclination was to shy away. We’d gotten past that, but that had been another day. I cursed my lack of foresight. Dog biscuits are a trainer’s basic tool. Instead, I slid my hand closer. I wanted to pet her, but I couldn’t tell how she’d react. I needed to reintroduce myself first. She sniffed and looked up. She wasn’t seeing me. Not really.

  “Lily?” I opened up, cautiously, but it was no good. All I was getting was horror, a silent scream of scent. All bad.

  I sat there for a while, my back up against the cinderblock, singing tunelessly. Something about “Lily being a good girl.” I don’t think she heard me. The white dog was as close to catatonic as I’d ever seen an animal. Time was my only ally. She’d gotten used to me once. Learned to trust me, even begun to trust the world again. Anyway, I had nowhere else to be.

  “Lily, Lily, Lily girl.” A knock startled me out of my reverie. Albert was peering through the little window. I waved. If he’d been hoping to see some carnage—or some girl-girl bestiality—he was out of luck. He moved away.

  He’s the only one.

  “What?” The interruption had shaken something out of Lily. I turned toward her, fast, and immediately regretted it. Blood, blood. More blood. I’d startled her.

  “What did you mean, Lily? Are you talking about Charles?” I tried to visualize her former owner. I didn’t know what name she used for the smart, skinny man. He’d always been with us during our training sessions. That had been the point.

  Takes care of me. With that, she’d taken the two steps to the other side of her cage and began rubbing her face on the bars, a low whine starting deep in her throat.

  “Lily, honey, don’t do that.” I’d seen nervous behaviors like this before. An animal could rub its face raw in no time. “Lily?”

  Take me home. Damn, I’d have to get over to the shelter. See if I could get some drugs for her. I needed Lily alert and remembering, but if she made herself sick she wouldn’t be useful to either of us. I stood up. Albert was nowhere near the window. Could I sneak her out?

  Then it hit me. Our training regimen. Charles had always been the one to put her in her crate and to take her out. It was a way to establish him up as the alpha in the household. So whatever had happened, someone else had to have been in the room. Someone else had opened that crate to let her out. To set her up. After Charles was already dead.

  “Lily, you hang in there.” This wasn’t proof exactly, and nobody else would buy it. But it was good to have confirmation. “I’ll get you out.”

  I pulled on the door and found it locked. Damn that Albert. Not until I’d pounded on it for a good three minutes did he finally show up, grinning.

  “Thought you two were getting cozy in there.”

  I pulled a smile on. I might need him down the line. “You never know.” That would have been my exit line, but I was caught up short by a sudden blast of empathy.

  Confusion and deep sadness. I turned around, surprised. A longing for home. Confusion, grief. Frank was standing on his hindlegs, his lithe body elongated, his masked face staring. Lily really needs you, Pru.

  I caught myself before I answered out loud. Albert was looking at me, funny. I’d wanted to leave him on edge. A little afraid. “Nice pet you got there.” I hoped Frank didn’t mind. “Take care of him.”

  I winked at the ferret. “And quit staring at my ass.”

  CHAPTER THREE

  The vet wasn’t in when I called from the car. The shelter line was busy when I stopped for groceries. By the time I got home, he’d left for the day.

  “Small towns.” I was pacing. Wallis was watching me, bemused, from her seat on one of my mother’s placemats.

  “We can go back to the city any day, babe.” She eyed the bag I’d dropped on the counter. “What did you get?”

  “Chicken. For me.” She didn’t blink. “Bones, Wallis.”

  “I’m not a kitten.” She turned her back on me.

  “You used to like Fancy Feast.”

  I saw her shift. I’d made my point. “That was when I was starving. And you were…uncooperative.”

  I stacked the cans in the cabinet, knowing I’d never open them. “I didn’t know, Wallis. I mean, it’s cat food.”

  She shifted again, flipping her ears back to catch my words. “You weren’t listening. You were so busy with your training and your life.”

  I caught the peevishness sneaking into her tone. “Wallis, at least back then,
I had a life.”

  “As I recall, you were the one who wanted to get out of town.” The round tabby turned sideways on the flowered mat and started washing her hind foot. “I’m at home anywhere.”

  “Wallis.” I could hear the anger creeping into my voice, but she didn’t look up. Those toes were going to be awfully clean. “You know why we left.”

  More silence. Nobody can ignore you like your cat. I grabbed a head of garlic and began peeling.

  “I couldn’t handle it anymore.” I might as well have been speaking to myself. She started biting her hind claws, trimming them down to size. “The cacophony, the constant noise.”

  She glanced up at me, holding that white bootie up to dry. “The voices, you mean. You claim you want to hear us, to understand us. And then when you do, you freak out.” She went back to the foot. “What’s that about, do you think?” As I heard her, I got the distinct feeling of fur in my mouth. “And could you not put so much nasty garlic in that?”

  “It’s my dinner.” Another look. I slumped into a chair. “One thigh, Wallis. That’s it. And could you not do that while we’re talking?”

  She shot me a look, but at least she paused.

  “Look, I freaked. Okay? You know that.”

  She sat up to face me. I had her full attention now. “I’d been talking to you for years, you know. Sometimes, I swear you heard me.”

  I nodded. I’d gotten messages from her. We all do from our cats. “It was the other animals, mostly.” Mostly true. “And, okay, once I started hearing you for real—in full sentences, well, I lost it.”

  “You thought you’d lost it.” She blinked slowly for emphasis.

  “Well, there’s no precedent.”

  “Oh, please.” She turned away and made to jump off the table

  “Wait a minute, Wallis. I need some advice.”

  She hit the floor with a thud, but she didn’t walk away.

  “Lily’s still not making sense.” I felt, rather than heard, her smirk. “Seriously, I want to get her some tranquilizers. But Albert’s ferret—”