Maximum Security (A Dog Park Mystery)

by C. A. Newsome

  “Don’t you mean their obsession?” Peter asked.

  “You could put it that way.” Bailey put the first charts away and pulled out another that had two concentric rings, like a target.

  “This is what happens when you lay Peter’s chart on top of Lia’s. This type of chart shows how two people relate to each other.”

  She pointed to a tiny ‘male’ symbol next to a tiny ‘female’ symbol. “That’s Lia’s Mars and Peter’s Venus. Look how they’re snuggled up next to each other.”

  “Aw,” Lia said.

  “This is the strongest astrological indicator of sexual attraction.”

  “Huh,” Peter said. Lia elbowed him.

  “Since it’s Lia’s Mars, it’s likely she made the first move.” Bailey looked at them blandly. Lia looked back just as blandly.

  Peter held up both palms. “Don’t look at me. I’ll never tell.”

  See those little tridents next to Mars and Venus? That’s the sign for Neptune. That brings in a magnetic attraction and a spiritual connection. You might even have a psychic rapport.”

  Lia looked at Peter. “Can you tell what I’m thinking right now?”

  “Uh-huh, but not because I’m psychic.”

  “Peter’s Sun makes a 60 degree angle from Lia’s Moon. That’s good for cooperation and understanding, and it’s often found in successful partnerships and domestic relationships.”

  “Hmm,” Peter said. Lia elbowed him.

  “In this aspect, Peter’s Sun is more active and it shows up in Lia’s house of home, so he is likely to have an impact on her domestic affairs.”

  “Uh-huh,” Peter said. He dodged Lia’s elbow just in time.

  “There are parental overtones to this placement, which means one of you may tend to treat the other like a child.”

  Peter blinked. He forgot to dodge. “Ouch,” he yelped.

  “Lia’s Sun shows up in Peter’s eighth house, which has to do with sex, rehabilitation and death. It also has to do with financial interdependence and business partnerships. So we have sexual attraction. Along with that, Lia can inspire Peter toward self-improvement and regeneration, which includes detoxing. And, at some point, you may choose to merge your finances.”

  “The sex part is okay, but I’m not going to drink her green smoothies, no matter what you say,” Peter said.

  “I find it interesting that this is also the house of death, and Lia has been involved with two of your cases, now.”

  Peter leaned back and folded his arms.

  “See,” Lia said, “it’s not my fault. Blame the solar system.”

  ~

  Lia showed Bailey out, then returned to the kitchen, where Peter was tossing liver treats to the dogs. Honey was best at snatching these out of the air. Chewy always missed and snuffled around on the floor to find his. Viola refused to lower herself to such antics. Two treats lay on the floor in front of her while she gave Peter a you’ve-got-to-be-kidding look. Peter leaned over and handed her the treats. Viola plucked them delicately from his fingers. Lia stood in the doorway and watched him with a curious expression on her face.

  He looked up. “You want to talk?”

  “I don’t think so. I need to process.”

  “You have to admit, it’s interesting.”

  “Hmmph,” Lia said. “She only said all that stuff because she knows us.”

  “I don’t think so. She did offer to lend me her books so I could check it all out.”

  “Of course. You are the open-minded one.”

  “Be fair, Libra-Girl.” Lia didn’t respond. “Would you like me to leave?”

  “Oh, I don’t know.” She sat on his lap, toyed with his hair. She didn’t meet his eyes. “It’s been a long weekend. I’ve had a really great birthday, but I guess I’m tired now. That was really intense, you know?”

  He gave her a hug and put her off his lap. “It’s okay. Can I leave Viola here for one more night? I’ll pick her up tomorrow.”

  Day 13

  Monday, October 21

  “I hope you two had a good weekend,” Captain Roller began.

  Peter and Brent looked at each other. Whatever was coming, they weren’t going to like it.

  “Stryker’s lawyer is raising hell that you never looked into his story about the kid selling him the phone. This makes a big, ugly hole in your case. While you were out carousing, Stryker met with Officer Forman and created an E-FIT of the guy he got it from. I want you to get out there and close that hole up.” He shoved a copy of the computer drawing at them, then waved them out of his office.

  ~

  “This is not how I wanted to spend Monday,” Brent said as they walked back into the bull pen. “Standing around a convenience store in a bad neighborhood. The locals will want to shoot us because we’re interfering with their illicit business just by being there. You think anyone will tell us anything? That place is too close to Fay apartments, which is not exactly full of civic minded citizens.”

  “Cop? Danger? What part of that didn’t you understand when you signed on? But we have a worse problem,” Peter said.

  “What’s that?”

  “You take a good look at that E-Fit?”

  Brent picked up the drawing off Peter’s desk. Shook his head.

  “Squint your eyes a little and think back.”

  Brent frowned as he considered the dark hair and broody eyes, shook his head. “I give up.”

  “The day we interviewed Monica Munce. When we were leaving. The kid down the block with the evil eye?”

  “I remember.” Brent looked again. “Could be.”

  “Lia says he’s been hanging around our widow. This could blow our case out of the water.”

  “Isn’t that just peachy? Do we know his name?”

  “No, but the funeral is tomorrow. I bet he’s there. Stryker said he bought the phone around four. That fits with someone who’s still in school.”

  “You really think there’s something to this?” Brent asked. “What are the odds?”

  “What are the odds of catching Ted Bundy with a traffic violation? It happens.”

  “You really think it could be some kid? What about school?”

  “One step at a time. First we canvass the store. Tomorrow, we either see this kid at the funeral, or we find out his name and chase him down.”

  ~ ~ ~

  “Bailey thinks my present is a sex toy.” When this didn’t get a laugh out of Peter, Lia knew it had been a bad day. He slumped down on the couch. Viola jumped up beside him and whimpered for attention. He stroked her absently while he stared ahead.

  Lia got him a beer and sat down on his other side. “Tell me about it,” she said, combing her fingers through the hair hanging over his ears, brushing it back. It dawned on her that she was petting him, as he was petting Viola.

  “We had to cut him loose. We had him and then we had to let him go.”

  “What happened?”

  “He bought the phone off some kid. Witnesses saw it. And the postman places him at home when Munce died. Now all we’ve got on him is receiving stolen property, and that’s iffy. Dammit! I just knew he did it. I hate being this wrong.”

  “So somebody saw him buy a phone. How do you know it was the same phone?”

  “We don’t. But we still had to release him, based on the postman’s statement. The kid who sold it to him looks like that neighbor kid you said was hanging around Monica Munce.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah. Do you know his name?”

  “Jacob. I don’t know his last name, but I’m sure Bailey has it because she had Trees research him. He’s got bad grades and has been caught smoking dope.”

  “Big surprise. Do you remember his address? That’s enough for me to run him. I hate duplicating work, but I need it on paper.”

  She wrote the information down and Peter stuck it in his wallet. “Are you going to the funeral tomorrow?” she asked.

  “Yep. Gotta hope the doer feels compelled to say good
-bye. Brent and I will be sneaking pictures of everyone and hoping for a Perry Mason moment. If no one confesses and tosses themselves on top of the coffin, we’ll roust the kid and see what’s what. He’s young. Maybe we can scare him into telling us something worthwhile.”

  “You don’t think he did it?”

  “I’d hate to think he did it. Not exactly the same thing.”

  “I guess I’ll see you at the funeral,” Lia said.

  “You barely knew this guy. Why are you going?”

  “I feel connected to this. Max dumped his femur in my car. We found his remains. I’m looking for his dog. I would feel weird if I didn’t go.”

  “I guess that makes sense.” Peter nodded.

  “There’s this other thing.”

  “Oh?”

  Lia took a deep breath. “I’m taking Kate.”

  Peter shook his head but didn’t say anything.

  “We’ll stay in back. We’re going to arrive late and leave early. There are other dog park people going, so we’re going to hang with them. She just wants to say good-bye.” Lia said all of this in a rush, reminding Peter of a teenager trying to talk a parent into an extended curfew.

  “This could turn ugly.” Peter winced inwardly. Why did he have to sound like his Dad the day after Bailey said that stuff about parental tendencies?

  “Kate’s not like that.”

  “It’s not Kate I’m worried about. Just be careful, okay? And try not to mace anyone, no matter how much they deserve it.”

  Day 14

  Tuesday, October 22

  Lia drove through the iron gates of Spring Grove Cemetery and Arboretum. Kate sat beside her in the old Volvo, fussing nervously with the hem of her blouse while she stared out the window. The road dipped down under a stone arch, then opened up into four lanes fanning out into the Civil War era graveyard. Lia took the second road from the left, following a broken green line on the asphalt.

  “Look.” Lia pointed to a two-story obelisk keeping company with a miniature Greek Parthenon among pine and magnolia trees. They drove around the edge of a small lake, passing a pair of swans drifting by a weeping willow. “The carp in that pond are as long as your arm.” Lia slowed. “Check this out. You won’t see this back in Oklahoma.” Ahead of them a lichen covered Gothic Revival chapel soared, complete with flying buttresses.

  “Oh, my,” Kitty said. “No, I don’t think we have anything that old in Oklahoma.”

  “This is a National Historic Landmark. It’s the second largest cemetery in the country. I’m taking the scenic route so we won’t arrive too early. You might as well enjoy the view.”

  Lia navigated narrow blacktop lanes mazing over gently rolling hills. She loved the quirky juxtaposition of monuments, from weeping angels, to a sphinx, to a dog resting on top of his master’s crypt and more obelisks than ever existed in Egypt. They passed a pair of joggers stretching along the side of the road.

  “I’m glad people use this for something. It’s too beautiful just to keep dead bodies,” Kitty said. “Do you bring your dogs here?”

  “An unknown artist once called this ‘a more magnificent park than any which exists for the living.’ No dogs allowed, or I’d be here more often. The building on the other side of the gatehouse up front used to have a jail cell in the basement for people who drove their carriages too fast on cemetery grounds. You can still see the bars on one side of the building. They’re very strict here.”

  Gradually the eclectic assortment of nineteenth century statuary gave way to modern gravestones, then to flat plaques embedded in the ground to create the illusion of an uninterrupted park.

  “That row of cars is it,” Lia told Kate. “I see Bailey’s truck and Jim’s Caliber. “We’ll just hang in the back. It’ll be fine.”

  “Thank you for doing this. I couldn’t stand it if I didn’t say good-bye to George, and I don’t have the courage to come alone.”

  The group of mourners was smaller than it might have been. Lia suspected Monica wanted to avoid sensationalist gawkers and arranged a graveside funeral, a service which incidentally lacked chairs, as a deterrent.

  Lia also suspected that dog park regulars would not have been invited except for her food deliveries. That, and the ongoing search for Daisy had likely created an obligation the very proper Mrs. Munce couldn’t ignore.

  People were dressed in everything from jeans to full black. Lia thought her own black broomstick skirt patterned with wild roses struck a nice balance between casual wear and formal mourning.

  A clutch of women, black, white and Hispanic, stood to one side. Lia pegged them as Dollar Hut employees. One had a mass of fried blond hair with significant roots that echoed her running mascara. A young black woman wore braids spilling down her back, reminding her of Asia, a therapist she had seen the previous year. The women were mostly dressed in jeans with black tops. Some of them were probably going to work afterwards.

  Lia looked over at Kate as they made their way up the slope. She was conservatively dressed in a borrowed skirt and low heels. They’d tried on a wide-brimmed black hat as a sort of disguise, but it was the wrong season and would draw attention instead of deflecting it. Kate hid behind a dark scarf and sunglasses instead.

  A walnut casket was suspended over the grave, supported by a casket lowering device. This consisted of four heavy chrome rails mounted around the edges of the grave and joined at the corners by a series of gears inside a housing. The long rails could rotate and acted like spools for the casket lowering straps. With the excess rolled onto the rails, the straps formed a sling that held the casket up. When the service was over, the gears in the corner housing would be unlocked and the device would then be cranked, playing out the straps and lowering the casket into the grave at a decorous pace.

  The edges of the grave were draped with green outdoor rugs that resembled Astroturf. Green rugs also covered the mound of dirt behind the casket. A spray of white roses lay atop the coffin. A photo of George grinned crookedly inside a frame of matching roses, hung on a skinny wire easel beside the dirt mound. On either side of the casket, floral tributes were mounted on more flimsy easels. A large and lurid cross of pink, spray-painted daisies stood out from the other arrangements. Lia attributed this excess of sentiment to the women from Dollar Hut.

  Lia glanced nervously around the crowd, looking for Peter and Brent, hoping not to find them. A peek to the side revealed the pair observing the crowd from under a spreading oak. Peter caught her eye, lifted one eyebrow in a subtle acknowledgment. She shrugged back at him and resolved not to look in his direction during the rest of the service.

  Lia and Kate stopped at the back of the group, behind Bailey and Jose. Bailey turned and whispered, “I thought you were never going to get here.” She turned back toward the minister, who continued to drone on. Lia looked sideways at Kate. She suspected that behind her sunglasses, Kate was ready to bolt. She gave her arm a squeeze of encouragement and saw the woman’s shoulders relax.

  Lia plucked out a sentence from the reading.

  “. . . As gold in the furnace, he proved them, and as sacrificial offerings he took them to himself. . .”

  Lovely, cheery stuff. She found herself mesmerized by the faint drone that was the minister’s voice. The service would have put her to sleep if she had not been standing up. Blinking, she focused, narrowing her eyes as she concentrated on the words.

  “. . . He who pleased God was loved; he who lived among sinners was transported—snatched away, lest wickedness pervert his mind or deceit beguile his soul; for the witchery of paltry things obscures what is right and the whirl of desire transforms the innocent mind . . .”

  Did Monica pick that out? Did she guess that Kate would show up? Does she believe Kate somehow bewitched her husband and God snatched him away so he wouldn’t be corrupted? A quick peek at Kate’s resolute expression confirmed that the “scarlet woman” had heard every word.

  Lia peered around Bailey, looking for the righteous widow. Monica Munc
e stood in front of the coffin, to the left of the minister. Her head was bowed and Stacy stood by her, a hand on her elbow. Lia estimated the widow’s line of sight and decided that there were at least five people obscuring Kate from Monica’s view. Still it would be best to leave as soon as the service was over.

  ~

  The service ended. Kitty watched as the crowd began to move, morphing into a line to pay their respects to the family. The space in front of Kitty cleared out. She froze, mesmerized by the rapidly widening space. She felt someone, Lia, place a hand on her arm. Monica and Stacy turned to greet other mourners and Kitty found herself staring right at Monica. Monica stared right back, her expression of shock transforming to fury.

  “There she is!” Stacy squealed. “It’s Dad’s girlfriend! I knew she’d come!” Monica had Stacy’s arm in a steely grip as Stacy struggled to pull away.

  Kitty felt Stacy’s pointing finger like a stab in her gut. Appalled, she turned from the goggling crowd and took off down the hill, scanning for Lia’s car as she ran. She tripped over a pillow monument, falling in the grass, rolling over twice before she was able to stop herself. Knees stinging, sunglasses lost, stockings torn, and drowning in waves of mortification, she began hyperventilating. Lia caught up with her and put a hand out to help her up. Kitty waved her off, kneeling in the grass with her hand to her chest as she concentrated on breathing normally.

  “Don’t go! I want to talk to you!” Stacy yelled.

  Kitty struggled to rise. Stacy broke away from her mother, brushing by the Dollar Hut women and stumbling into the casket lowering device. She stuck a hand out, grabbing onto the housing of the corner gear mechanism and shoving herself back upright.

  As the woman with fried blond hair from Dollar Hut stumbled back out of Stacy’s way, she tripped on the edge of the carpet and fell against the young black woman with long braids. Braids flying, the young woman fell against the portrait of George, knocking it over onto the pink floral cross. The women landed in a heap with roses and daisies scattered over them. George grinned in the grass several feet away.