Underwater: An Avery Barks Dog Mystery (Avery Barks Cozy Dog Mysteries Book 4)

by Mary Hiker

  The grill man’s athletic good looks caught me by complete surprise. His dark smartly styled hair, tanned body and surfer-boy shorts looked like he belonged at the beach instead of the mountains on the North Carolina / South Carolina border.

  I started to step around the two over-sized men, when one of them spread his arms wide to block my way, revealing a tattoo with the now familiar diamond and flame design. We stood toe-to-toe.

  “You stink like smoke,” the bully grumbled.

  You guys stink, period, I thought to myself, leaning sideways to keep an eye on my dog.

  Chevy trotted to the grill and the tanned athletic one tossed him a small piece of steak.

  “That’s my dog,” I said, trying to act innocently.

  “Don’t look like it to me,” the athletic one said. “I say he’s our dog.”

  He reached down and took a hold of Chevy’s collar, while one of the big guys put his hand on the gun holstered to his hip.

  My face burned and my muscles tensed. My mind raced to come up with a plan that would get my dog back without either one of us getting hurt. Good looking or not, this guy had turned out to be a real jerk. Why was I surprised?

  I took five steps back and pulled out my smart phone. “I have GPS on this phone and if I hit one button it will go straight to ‘911’ showing this location – I don’t even have to say a word. Do you really want ten cop cars rolling up here asking questions in the next five minutes?”

  The two bouncer guys looked at each other, then glanced into the fenced area at their cohort.

  “The dog ate a piece of steak,” the athletic one said and crossed his arms over his bulging chest. “There’s a fifty dollar charge for that.”

  “You’ve now wasted five minutes of my time.” I acted like I was about to press the button. “There’s a hundred dollar charge for that.”

  Adrenaline pulsed through me and I was fuming.

  The guy behind the grill let go of Chevy’s collar and one of the big guys opened the chain link gate. Chevy trotted over to my side and I reached down and touched the top of his head.

  My heart beat wildly and I fought back tears. I raised my arm and whipped my hand forward, pointing at the jerk.

  “Don’t you ever touch my dog again,” I yelled as anger consumed me.

  “Then you and that dog better get out of here, real fast,” the big guy snarled.

  I decided to take his advice.

  Chapter 11

  “We need to call the authorities,” I said, as I leaned against a tree on the ridgeline, trying to catch my breath.

  Chevy sat in the car under quarantine for causing chaos with the good looking grill master.

  “We can’t, because I was involved in illegal gambling,” Cody mumbled and shuffled his feet. “I’m stuck and I don’t know what to do.”

  “Who are those guys?”

  “The surfer dude is called ‘Zona, because he’s from Arizona,” Cody said, his voice shaking. “He’s their enforcer. The other two goons are Monster and Juice. They’re from around here somewhere.”

  “They have an enforcer?” I shook my head. “Those guys must be watching too many gangster movies.”

  Miss Emma stood at the tree line, looking through a pair of binoculars she found in Cody’s back seat. Suddenly, her mouth dropped open.

  “Oh. My. Word,” she said and handed the binoculars to Cody. “Look who just came outside. What’s the name of the slick looking one with the big white streak in his hair?”

  Cody lifted the binoculars to his eyes and his posture stiffened. “Oh no, that’s Big George Dooley,” his voice cracked. “This whole thing is his operation.”

  “Just what I thought,” she said. “I’d recognize that hair anywhere.”

  I grabbed the binoculars and took a look for myself. Sure enough, the man had dark black hair with a white patch that ran across the top of his head.

  Miss Emma patted Cody on the back and said, “Honey, back when he was your age, the other kids used to call him Dopey Dooley. We adults just called him Skunk.”

  Cody’s eyes grew big, “You know Big George Dooley?”

  I lowered the binoculars and said, “Oh no, we better hide Cody. Big Dooley just yelled at the other three guys and sent them up this way.”

  Cody raced to his car and started yanking at the doors in a panic.

  “Calm down, lay on the floor in the back and keep real still,” Miss Emma said.

  Cody dove inside the car and we covered him with a dirty canvas tarp from his trunk. Chevy sat in the back seat for good measure.

  I opened the front door and jumped in the driver’s seat.

  Miss Emma pushed on my shoulder. “Move over,” she said as the men reached the top of the ridgeline.

  There was no time to argue so I bent my body like a pretzel, maneuvered over the stick shift and dropped into the passenger seat. Chevy climbed into the front seat on my lap as Miss Emma slid behind the steering wheel. Cody remained stone quiet under the tarp.

  The three men approached the car and Zona snarled, “What’re you two doing up here?”

  “Girls road trip,” Miss Emma said and held the steering wheel in the ten and two position.

  My heart raced as I covertly took pictures with my smart phone. I hoped to get at least one of their faces recorded in case things went bad.

  Zona flexed his arm muscles, making the big ‘Z’ tattoo on his bicep bounce, and ran his tanned hand across the hood of Cody’s car. He looked me in the eye, then switched his gaze to Miss Emma.

  “That’s a whole lotta car for you, Grandma. Where’d you get it?” he said and circled around the front of the car, then toward the back, nearing the rear door where Cody was hidden.

  Miss Emma patted her wavy hair and shouted, “I’m taking it out on a test drive!”

  With one sudden motion, she cranked the engine, threw it in reverse and slammed on the gas. I got a tight grip on Chevy as tires spun, causing dirt and leaves to fly through the air.

  Miss Emma dropped her right arm on the seat’s backrest and craned her neck to look out the rear window as the car flew backwards down the dirt road. The three men’s mouths dropped open as they watched the car disappear through the woods.

  The muscles in my body froze and my mind went blank as Miss Emma skillfully handled the wheel of Cody’s sporty car and we sped in reverse down the dirt road. When we hit the main drive, she spun the car around to face forward.

  I breathed a sigh of relief, glad we escaped from the roughnecks and eased my grip on Chevy.

  “Whooo Hooo!” Miss Emma said and looked over at me with a grin.

  Her eyes were bright with excitement as she peered out from under the lavender visor that adorned her forehead. I stared at her in stunned silence while Cody stayed hidden on the floor of the backseat.

  “Just like the old days runnin’ moonshine for my daddy,” she said and hit the gas again.

  The car bolted forward and sped down the gradual slope of an embankment and into the field below the ridgeline.

  “Hang on,” she shouted.

  “What are you doing?” I yelled in surprise.

  The tires spun and tore through the field as we headed directly toward Big George Dooley. The car roared across the dirt lot and did a donut, spewing up dirt and gravel all over the parking area and Big George Dooley.

  I held my smart phone and started recording the event just in case we didn’t make it out alive. Miss Emma gunned the engine a couple times before shutting it off. She gingerly stepped out of the car and made a big show of straightening her lavender jogging suit.

  I jumped out of my seat, kept Chevy inside the car, and ran next to Miss Emma while Cody cowered under the tarp. Big Dooley brushed fresh dust off his cheap black suit and wiped dirt out of his eyes while spewing a few choice words. My body tensed as I glanced up and saw the three hoodlums running down from the ridgeline toward the parking lot.

  Miss Emma marched straight up to Big Dooley and shook her bon
ey finger in his face.

  “George Dooley, I’ve known your mama a long time and can remember when you were only this big,” she said and lowered her hand out about knee-high.

  His face flinched when he recognized the elderly woman standing in front of him.

  “What can I do for you, ma’am?” he asked and waved off the three men who had just reached the parking area.

  “If you want to throw away your life and commit crime, that’s your business,” she said and put her hands on her hips. “But you’re not going to do it in my neighborhood.”

  She marched over to the car, opened the back door and grabbed the scuff of Cody’s t-shirt.

  “Come on out, honey,” she said.

  Big Dooley eyed Cody as the teen shuffled behind Miss Emma.

  “I understand this boy owes you some money,” she said.

  George Dooley crossed his arms and nodded his head. “And I expect him to pay.”

  Miss Emma turned to me and pressed a finger to her lip. “You know, ole Skunk does have a point. Cody needs to learn to pay his debts and this can be a good life lesson.”

  “I hear you’re charging outrageous interest,” I said and crossed my arms to match his.

  He whipped his head toward me and stared.

  Miss Emma patted Cody’s shoulder and asked Big Dooley, “How much does he owe?”

  “Four thousand dollars, including interest,” he replied, glaring at the teen.

  Cody’s knees buckled and his mouth quivered.

  Miss Emma stepped up to the over-dressed man, grabbed his ear and twisted. “Skunk, don’t you make me call your mama,” she said. “I ran moonshine with the woman and we both know what she’ll do if she finds out you’ve been hurtin’ the local boys.”

  “Owww.” Big George backed up and rubbed his ear. “Umm, since he’s a friend of yours, Miss Emma, I’ll make it one thousand.”

  “Fair enough,” she said and unzipped the side pocket on her jogging suit jacket. She buried her hand inside and pulled out a handful of cash.

  She reached her arm toward Big George Dooley and waved the wad of folded up money.

  “Here’s payment in full, Skunk,” she said. “If you ever try to bully this boy or any other boys in my neighborhood again, I’ll go straight to your mama’s house.”

  Big George’s face grew red as he grabbed the money and crammed it in his pocket. Miss Emma turned on her heels and motioned for us to get back into the car. Big Dooley paused, shook his head, then turned and walked back toward his building where the three thugs waited.

  Cody wasted no time opening the car door and pulling the front seat forward. Miss Emma piled in the back seat as Chevy licked her face and I got in the front.

  “Avery, we need to make a pact that we won’t mention this pay-off to the law,” Miss Emma said as we got settled. “If we rat them out after a deal was made, it’ll be bad news for all of us.”

  I sat in silence, pondering the pros and cons of her request.

  Miss Emma looked at me with a hint of concern, “Avery?”

  “Okay, I won’t mention what happened in this parking lot, with Cody, today,” I said, leaving myself some leeway and suddenly wishing I hadn’t come along.

  “Don’t worry honey, we’ll come up with a good plan,” Miss Emma said with a wink. “And they’re just dumb enough to fall for one.”

  I nodded my head, but my stomach was in knots.

  “Besides, ole Skunk is more scared of his mama than all the Sheriff’s departments put together,” she said. “That woman’s meaner ‘n a viper snake.”

  I just hoped the jerks were stopped before anyone else got hurt or swindled.

  “By the way, why in the world are you carrying around so much cash?” I asked.

  “It was the money I kept under my mattress at home,” she said. “Exactly twelve-hundred-dollars. When the fire broke out this morning, I stuffed it in my pocket before I evacuated.”

  Cody collapsed into the driver’s seat, closed his door, rested his head on the steering wheel and let out a loud breath. “Thank you, Miss Emma. I don’t know how to repay you.”

  Emma reached forward and patted Cody’s shoulder. “Honey, you’re going to work every bit of it off doing chores at my house. You can start by cleaning out my garage next weekend.”

  Chapter 12

  Several fire and law enforcement officials stood in Miss Emma’s yard as we pulled up my driveway. We’d been gone about three hours and I figured they had plenty of time to walk through her home and do their investigation.

  A tall, fit man with a black moustache pointed our way when he noticed Cody’s car. When I saw the tell-tale uniform, I figured it was the county’s new Fire Marshall.

  As I stepped out of the confines of Cody’s car, the smell of burned wood and smoke hung heavily in the air. I cringed, remembering I had left a window open and the smell had probably already invaded my cabin.

  Chevy trotted around the grass in my front yard, stretching his legs after an afternoon spent riding around in the car. Miss Emma and I were saying our good-byes to Cody when Deputy Donaldson walked in our direction.

  Deputy Don lightly touched Miss Emma’s arm, “Are you doing okay, ma’am?“

  She nodded. “Thank you, honey. It’s been quite an adventurous day.”

  Deputy Don said, “I hope you folks will stick around for a bit, the Fire Marshall would like a chance to talk with you.”

  “Sure,” Miss Emma and I said together.

  Cody stepped toward his car to leave.

  “Not so fast, son, the Fire Marshall would like to talk to you too,” Deputy Don said, his voice carrying the weight of authority as he blocked Cody’s car door.

  “But I wasn’t here during the fire,” Cody said and lifted his hands to his sides, palms-up. “I just stopped by to mow the grass.”

  Deputy Don eyed the tattoo on the inside of Cody’s forearm.

  “We found a partially burned business card with the same design as your tattoo at a car fire yesterday,” he said and lowered his sunglasses. “The car belonged to one of your old buddies. You wouldn’t know anything about that would you?”

  Has Cody been starting fires for some type of insurance scam? I wondered.

  My dog’s sudden animated barks filled the air and broke my thoughts.

  Chevy was belly-flopped on my front porch in front of his dog crate, his nose pointed inside. His golden tail beat against the ground as he wagged it energetically and scooted on his belly, creeping closer to the crate.

  I laughed and trotted over to see what had his attention. I bent over and took a long look, surprised at what I saw inside the crate.

  I called out to Deputy Don, “I think I just found out who started Miss Emma’s house fire.”

  Deputy Don looked up from his conversation with Cody and ran a hand through his hair. “What?”

  I crouched down and stretched my arm all the way to the back of the crate, getting a gentle grip on Tabitha. She smelled of smoke as bad as the rest of us did. I straightened back up, carefully lifted her from the crate and into my arms.

  Most of the hair was burned off her lower back and tail. Deputy Don waved to the Fire Marshall and they both walked over as I gently wrapped a towel around Miss Emma’s cat.

  “Did Miss Emma have a fire going in the fire place this morning?” I asked.

  “Yeah, it looked like it,” the Fire Marshall said as he glanced at Deputy Don.

  The man looked even taller than before as I stood next to him.

  “Tabitha loves lying on the hearth to stay warm,” I said as I softly stroked her head. “And I know Miss Emma’s fire screen doesn’t close all the way. The cat’s fluffy tail could easily have flopped to the inside the screen and ….”

  “You think she accidentally caught her tail of fire?” the Fire Marshall said as he slowly adjusted the towel to take a closer look at the cat’s injuries.

  “Maybe. My dog, Chevy, knocked over a Christmas candle with his tail last
winter and caught my newspaper on fire,” I chuckled. “He could’ve burned my house down. Candles and golden retrievers don’t mix.”

  “It’s a strong possibility and actually not all that uncommon,” the Fire Marshall said as he stroked his dark moustache. “The cat could’ve panicked and ran throughout the house, starting the mini fires you saw on the drapes and couch.”

  “That would explain the embers near the dog door,” Deputy Don said as he lightly rubbed Tabitha’s head. “She would have escaped through there.”

  I carried the gray cat over to Miss Emma, “I think Tabitha needs to visit the emergency veterinarian.”

  “Oh, Tabitha!” Miss Emma exclaimed and took her beloved bundled up cat into her arms.

  Cody opened the passenger door to his car. “Get in, Miss Emma. I’ll take you.”

  The teen wasted no time getting Miss Emma and Tabitha buckled-up and comfortable for the trip to the veterinary hospital. As I watched his black car reach the end of my driveway and turn onto the main road, I wondered if he was more interested in helping Miss Emma’s cat or escaping Deputy Don’s questions.

  I guessed it was a bit of both.

  Chapter 13

  The black Labrador pawed at the door of a large construction dumpster as the light from the noonday sun reflected of his shiny coat. Beads of sweat glistened on the side of Deputy Don’s face as he concentrated on his search and rescue dog’s body language.

  “Good boy, Ace,” Don said as he reached up, cracked the door open, and peered in to ensure it was safe for his dog to enter.

  As we made our way into the large metal container, the heavy iron door groaned in the background while the force of air going in and out of the dog’s nose created a melody all its own. Ace was in the midst of strong scent and he was obsessed with finding its source.

  The dog made his way toward its only contents, three cardboard boxes and an old couch. After sniffing and circling the items, he returned, pawed Don’s leg and gave a bark. It was Ace’s indication of a live find.