“I don’t want to alarm you. Most likely, an abuser would have started showing his true self by now, and he would not have given you a weapon that you could turn against him, not unless he was very sure of his control over you.
“I think you’ll be fine,” Asia concluded.
“Boy, that sure makes my issues with Peter sound petty.”
“Your issues are not petty at all. You have an absolute right to pursue the kind of life that is going to make you happiest. It’s so much better for you to be asking questions at this point instead of jumping into a commitment and finding out the terms later.”
Day 16
Thursday, October 24
Terry point an authoritative finger in the air. “As Samuel Johnson said, ‘Marriage is the triumph of imagination over intelligence. A second marriage is the triumph of hope over experience.’”
Lia leaned over and whispered to Bailey, “Wasn’t that Oscar Wilde?”
“Don’t tell Terry he’s quoting Oscar Wilde,” Bailey whispered back. “He’ll have to wash his mouth out.”
“When I lived in Alaska,” Terry continued, “I had a bumper sticker that said, ‘In Juneau, you don’t lose your woman, you lose your turn.’ Relationships there are extremely inbred.”
Bailey leaned over to Lia. “The way I heard it, in Alaska the women say, ‘The odds are good, but the goods are odd.’”
Lia stifled a snort.
“What’s that you said, Bailey?” Jose asked. “I couldn’t hear it.”
“Never mind,” Bailey said.
“When anyone bugs me about how many times I’ve been married,” Terry soldiered on, “I say, ‘You fall off a horse, you can either sit on the porch sniveling, or hitch up your pants, go out to the corral, and saddle something else.’”
“But four times?” Bailey asked.
“What can I say? I like women,” Terry declared.
“Apparently, they don’t like you,” Jim observed.
“I’m glad you said that. I wasn’t about to,” Bailey said.
“Hey, my average relationship lasts longer than most TV series. Or NFL careers, for that matter.”
“I don’t want to be a TV series. Did you learn anything from your four marriages?” Lia asked.
“Sure. I can now repeat my mistakes perfectly, every time.” Terry ended the topic by turning to Jose and launching into his thoughts about the registration of ammo and the latest commentary by Rush Limbaugh.
“Looks like the sensitivity portion of today’s programming is over,” Bailey said.
“Speaking of sensitive, I can’t believe you didn’t warn me ahead of time about Sunday,” Lia said.
“Warn you about what?” Bailey asked.
Lia turned to Jim. “I let her do her astrology thing with Peter and me and she pops out all this stuff about financial interdependence and domestic partnership. Some birthday present.”
“You wanted me to lie?” Bailey asked. “I thought you wanted to know if it made sense to go to the next level.”
“I don’t know what I wanted,” Lia grumbled. “It was just a shock, hearing that.”
“Astrology is powerful stuff,” Bailey said. “Besides, I said all that stuff about Uranus meaning you had to have a nontraditional relationship. Doesn’t that make up for it?”
Lia’s phone beeped. She pulled it out of her pocket, checked the display.
“Hey, Jerome. What’s up?”
“I meant to call you yesterday, but I got busy and forgot until this morning.”
“No problem. What’s going on?”
“I saw a German Shepherd when I was out making deliveries. She looked like the dog in your poster.”
“You saw Daisy?” The voices around her hushed.
“I think so. I’m sorry I wasn’t able to stop and check her out, I was running late.”
“That’s okay, tell me everything you remember. Where was it?”
“It was on Knowlton, where Fergus ends. This skinny dark-haired woman was walking her. They were headed toward Hamilton Avenue.
“I was thinking, most people walk their dogs around the same time every day, and they usually have a route they stick to. If you hung out at the right time, you might see her.”
“When was it?” Lia asked.
“It was right around eleven.”
“That’s great Jerome. Thanks for calling me.”
Lia stuck the phone back in her pocket. “Okay, who’s up for surveillance?”
~ ~ ~
Bailey and Jose had to work all day and couldn’t help. Lia pulled the first shift, 10:30 a.m. to 12:30 p.m., Terry was on next from 12:30 p.m. to 2:30 p.m. Jim drew the late shift. He met Terry a few blocks down from the end of Fergus.
“No luck,” Terry said. “I had to fend off an amorous Chihuahua and I met a couple of pit bull mixes, but no German Shepherds to speak of.”
Jim sat in his Caliber, working on his third crossword of the afternoon. Fleece sat at his side, occasionally pawing his arm for attention. He figured Daisy’s current owner had been headed to Hoffner Park when she was spotted. That was where he’d take a dog if he lived in the neighborhood. He was positioned so they would have to pass by him, whichever direction they had come from.
He was puzzling over the clue, “Image on Irish euro coins,” when he spotted two children with a large dog crossing Fergus on the north side of the street. He quietly got out of his car and took Fleece up the sidewalk so he would intersect with them.
As the children approached, he could see them more clearly. The eldest was a girl around eleven or twelve with dark, stringy hair and jeans that were too short. She wore her tennis shoes without socks. Her brother was about five or six, with a round face and an intense look about him. The dog did indeed look like the picture of Daisy in his pocket.
When they got within range, Daisy started straining toward Jim and Fleece. Jim walked closer so the dogs could sniff each other. “Friendly dog you have,” he said. “What’s her name?”
“Xena,” the girl said. “Mom says she’s like the warrior princess on TV.”
“She does look like a warrior princess. You must be really strong to walk her all by yourselves.”
The girl shrugged. The boy, who was petting Fleece, looked up and grinned. “Yeah,” he said.
Jim stroked ‘Xena’s’ head. “Sure is friendly. How long have you had her?”
“Since she was a pup,” the boy piped up. “That’s what Mom says to say, since she was a pup.”
The girl gave her brother a quelling look. “We gotta go, Mister. We’re not supposed to talk to strangers.” She moved to go past him.
“You going to the park?”
“Yeah!” the boy said. “The park! The park! The park!” He hopped up and down for emphasis. His sister rolled her eyes.
He moved aside. Daisy craned her neck as she walked by, watching Jim with intelligent eyes. He wondered if she remembered him.
He walked Fleece down the block, then turned around and headed toward Hamilton Avenue, keeping the children in sight while they crossed at the light and turned South. He arrived at the corner in time to see the children cutting into the park.
Jim went back to his car, then circled the block. As he drove, he examined the array of modest Victorian era, clapboard shotguns. He passed a vacant lot and noted an overgrown greenbelt running behind all the houses.
The renaissance that was spreading through Northside was just starting to take root on Knowlton. A few houses were fully refurbished. A couple had scaffolding on front, a precursor to coming improvements. Some were slipping into ruin in the clash of income levels that was characteristic of the area.
He wondered which of the pastel colored houses was theirs. Not one of the rehabs. He noted the ones with peeling exteriors, listing porches and dull colors, zeroing in on one painted an unfortunate shade of Pepto Bismol pink with a cyclone fence in front and a rusty bike chained to the porch. The original porch columns with their gingerbread trim were long g
one, replaced sometime in the Seventies with scrolled aluminum supports. Broken concrete steps led to the porch.
The children appeared, not walking so briskly now. He imagined they were tired. Perhaps they didn’t want to go home. He checked the time. It was now four forty-five.
Jim experienced a small satisfaction when they stopped at the Pepto-pink house and opened the gate. He considered his options. He wasn’t prepared to create a fuss about the dog in front of the children. He now knew where Daisy lived. She wasn’t going anywhere. He’d advise Lia, and the group could decide what to do the next morning.
Day 17
Friday, October 25
“We know Daisy has a home, and she has kids to play with. Monica doesn’t seem that interested. Are we even sure she wants the dog back?” Bailey asked.
“She has a home,” Jim said, “and there are kids, but we don’t know if it’s a good home. In that neighborhood, people are likely to let their dogs run the streets and dump them when they get inconvenient. Daisy eats a lot of food and the family living in that house isn’t doing too well. Best case is they love her and feed her but don’t give her proper medical care. If she gets sick, they put her down. If the Munces don’t want her, we can find her a better home than this one.”
“We need a positive ID,” Terry said. “I venture to guess that our scarlet woman knows Daisy better than anyone outside the family, and Daisy knows her as well.”
“She’s not a scarlet woman, just a sad case. How would you like it if the love of your life was torn apart by coyotes?” Bailey asked. “Lia, do you know if Kate’s coming today?”
“I’m pretty sure she is. If she’s not here soon, I’ll give her a call.”
“You should go during the day, while the kids are in school. Better for them,” Jim said.
“Less drama for us that way, too,” Lia said. “If Kitty says she’ll do it, I’ll go with her since I know her best.”
~
They drove Lia’s old Volvo for two reasons. First, she was used to having dogs in the back seat. Second, Lia was afraid Kate’s new Altima might give this family visions of a reward they didn’t deserve, considering Daisy had been wearing a collar with tags. If Daisy somehow lost her collar, they still never posted a free ‘found ad’ for her.
It was shortly after 11:00 a.m. when Lia pulled up in front of the neglected house.
“Oh, my,” Kate said, “this feels a bit creepy, don’t you think?”
“It’s just poverty,” Lia said. “Poverty isn’t evil. There could be many reasons why the house is the way it is. Could be they just moved in and haven’t had a chance to fix it up yet. Maybe someone is sick and can’t work. At least we know they like animals. They can’t be all bad.”
They climbed the broken steps. The bell was out of order, so Lia rapped sharply on the door. Inside, a dog responded by barking. The sound was deep and powerful.
“That does sound like Daisy,” Kate said.
After a few minutes, the door cracked. Daisy shoved her nose through the door and whimpered excitedly. Kate knelt down to greet her. Daisy continued to fight with the door until she wiggled through. She was all over Kate, licking her face and wagging her tail. Kate gave up and sat on the porch and hugged the dog.
“Xena! Down! Bad!”
Lia looked down to see a short, bony woman with dark hair that had been fried in a way she normally associated with over-bleaching. She looked middle age, but she also looked haggard, like she had lived hard and was possibly younger. Deep lines were carved around her mouth and her eyes had dark circles under them. The woman pushed past Lia and grabbed Daisy’s collar, dragging her back into the house. She bent over to hang onto the straining dog. Daisy rasped as she panted, fighting to get back to Kate. The woman looked up from this position. “I’m so sorry.” There was a touch of hills in her voice. “She isn’t very well behaved. What can I do for you?” Her smile was forced, as if she knew she should be friendly but would just rather not.
“My name is Lia, and this is Kate. We’re here about your dog,” Lia said. “We believe this is the same dog that went missing at Mount Airy Forest a little over two weeks ago. She pulled a folded flyer out of her pocket and showed it to the woman.
The woman barely looked at the picture. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. We’ve had Xena all her life.” Her eyes went flat. Her chin lifted in defiance, belying Daisy’s frantic attempts to reunite with her friend. She yanked Daisy back inside and attempted to shut the door. Lia stuck her foot inside the jamb, wincing as the door banged into it.
“I don’t want this to get ugly,” she called through the cracked door, “but I’m certain this is Daisy. I can prove it at the SPCA. She’s been microchipped,” Lia bluffed, hoping it was true. “If we have to, we’ll file a complaint with the police. I’d hate to have to do that, because you found Daisy and took her in, and we’re grateful for that. But it’s time —”
“Is there a problem?” Lia twisted around to see a well muscled man behind her on the porch. “Honey,” he called to the woman, “why don’t we all go inside and discuss this like adults?”
The woman relinquished her hold on the door. Lia pulled her foot out and shook it.
“That’s better,” he said. “You ladies come in and we’ll figure this out.”
Relieved, Lia followed him into the painfully neat but shabby living room. Kate followed.
“Have a seat,” the man said, closing the door and flipping his hand at a nubby brown sofa.
Lia and Kate sat. The woman released Daisy, who scampered back to Kate. Kate began scratching her ears and cooing. Daisy lolled her tongue and closed her eyes, wallowing in canine bliss.
“I’m going to tie Xena out back while we discuss this.” He grabbed Daisy’s collar. Daisy stiffened her legs, digging in. Her nails scraped across the wood floor as he dragged her out of the room. Lia could hear the back door open and his muttered commands to the dog. The door shut, and Daisy began immediately hurling herself against it. The rhythmic thuds were punctuated with howls.
The women waited silently for the man to come back, observing each other. Lia surveyed the living room. A large, boxy TV sat on top of a composite board media center. Apart from the sofa, there were three dinette chairs with torn vinyl upholstery mended with duct tape. An upside down milk crate served as a side table between two of the chairs.
There was something red hanging on the back of the woman’s chair that drew Lia’s attention. She’d seen that particular shade of stop-sign red before. She felt a vague sense of unease. Something about the red thing. It was a smock, like clerks wear in some stores. It slammed into her brain: this woman worked for Dollar Hut.
“Look,” she said, standing up, “Why don’t we talk about this some other day. Kate and I are running late.”
“Sit back down.” Pivoting at this command, Lia discovered a gun pointed at her chest. Speechless, she watched as the man turned to the woman. “Carleen, I told you this would never work, but you had to keep the damn dog, didn’t you? ‘The kids love her,’ you said.” His face twisted as he said this.
“Billy, I’m sorry—”
“First you whine until I get another phone because I can’t talk to you from my number, somebody might see it on your records. Look what good that did! Nearly got me going down for murder. Now it’s the damn dog. They know you got the dog, Carleen. They’re going to think it’s awfully funny that you had George’s dog all this time. When are you going to listen, you stupid bitch?”
Carleen cowed.
“Carleen?” Kate said. “George’s assistant manager Carleen?”
“You know her and you didn’t say anything?” Lia asked, incredulous.
“George told me about her. I never saw her up close. And she had blond hair.”
“How’s your grand plan now?” Billy sneered at Carleen. “All this trouble over your pansy-assed boss.” He turned to the women on the sofa. “Do you know what this bitch did? She gets jealous because the
boss she thinks is someday going to wake up and run away with her is now fooling around with some fat broad from out of town. She thinks if she gets rid of the competition, meaning you—” He pointed the gun at Kate and snorted. “–she’ll get to have him all to herself.”
“This is all your fault, Billy!” Carleen wailed. “If you hadn’t told me how you’d seen them fooling around in the woods from that stupid tree house of yours, this never would have happened. But you had to call me up, laughing about it. You couldn’t keep it to yourself, could you? You had to tell me all about it.”
Billy snorted. “So what does she do? She breaks into my house and steals my crossbow and decides she’s going to fire a few bolts at you—” He waved the gun at Kate again. “–to scare you off, like you were in the line of fire of some deer hunter. Only the day she goes out there, you’re not there.
“So when her pansy-assed boss sees something up in the trees and decides to find out what it is, she goes spastic and pulls the trigger by mistake. Wouldn’t you know, the bolt rips right through his neck and he bleeds out before she gets down from the tree.
“What I wouldn’t give to see that. A couple times shooting at targets in the back yard, and she thinks she’s the big hunter! “I shoot years. I never had such a perfect kill shot and she aces it by accident. There go all her fancy plans.”
“Then she drags that dog back with her and calls me. ‘Oh, Billy,’” he mimicked “‘I really screwed up, Billy. I want you back, but I need your help. Please, Billy, you gotta help me.’”
“So I take care of the body, I get rid of the car, I dump my own six hundred dollar crossbow, and what do I get? ‘We can’t be seen together Billy, not yet Billy, you have to call me on a different phone Billy.’” Billy continued his vicious falsetto. “All that and she has to keep the stupid dog.
“Carleen, did I ever tell you what a kick it was, watching those ‘yotes rip into your boss? I had the best seat in the house, up in that old blind. I sat up there and thought about all the trouble he caused while they pulled him apart. I wanted to take pictures for you, but that wouldn’t be smart.
Maximum Security (A Dog Park Mystery) Page 21