Laying Down the Paw

by Diane Kelly

  “Welcome, roomie!” she said.

  I introduced her to Seth and Blast.

  Frankie picked up her cat and bounced her gently in her arms. “This little girl is Zoe.”

  Introductions complete, Frankie and I took Seth on a quick tour of the place.

  When we’d shown him around, Frankie said, “I’ll throw on some clothes and help y’all get the stuff out of the truck.”

  “That’d be great. Thanks.”

  We let Blast and Brigit out into the backyard to play while we worked. We started with the futon, which we placed in the empty spot where Frankie’s ex’s sofa had been before he’d left with it. I’d slept on the thing at my old place, but it was time to move up to a real bed. Especially for that sleepover I’d promised Seth.

  It took Zoe less than five minutes to claim the futon as her own, and us humans only half an hour to unload my meager possessions. When we finished, I glanced around my new bedroom. The only furniture in the room was the card table and bookcase, unless you counted the plastic crates I kept my lingerie and socks in. I needed not only a bed, but also a dresser and a night table.

  “Mind if we do some furniture shopping while we’ve got the truck?” I asked Seth.

  “I’m all yours today,” he said, sliding me a sexy glance. “Do with me what you will.”

  I slid him a sexy glance right back. “That’s an open-ended offer.” One of these days—soon—I was going to take him up on it.

  On our way out, I poked my head into the kitchen to let Frankie know we were leaving for a bit. “Need anything while I’m out?”

  “Nah,” she said. “I work nights stocking groceries at Kroger so it’s easy for me to pick things up after my shift.”

  Good to know.

  Seth and I loaded the dogs into the rental truck and set out for the nearest mattress store. Minutes later, Seth and the salesman were loading a plastic-wrapped queen-sized mattress and box spring into the rental truck, along with a metal frame and a padded headboard that would be great for sitting up to read in bed.

  Next, I directed Seth to the home of Honeysuckle Sewell, an older woman who lived in an ancient wood-frame house on the east side of town and ran a perpetual yard sale on her front lawn. When one of the Tunabomber’s explosives had detonated at the country club last fall, Honeysuckle had lost her left eye and three fingers on her left hand. She hadn’t let the injuries slow her down, though. She was back in business and as busy as ever. More so, really. After the local paper ran an interview with her, people in Fort Worth had begun taking their gently used but no longer needed furniture to Honeysuckle to sell.

  Dressed in her usual denim overalls and red Keds sneakers, Honeysuckle was discussing a framed oil painting with a woman as we pulled up. The painting featured an orange-and-white horned steer standing among bluebonnets, standard art fare in Texas. Honeysuckle’s left eye socket was covered with a white patch, but her right eye performed double duty. She spotted my familiar face in the truck’s window and gave me a smile and a wave. I sent a smile and wave back her way.

  Seth and I leashed the dogs and climbed out of the truck to check out today’s selection of furnishings. With the yard still soft and moist from yesterday’s storm, Honeysuckle had her wares set out on tarps today. I found a tall maple dresser that looked promising, though the drawers seemed to stick when I tried to open them.

  “Darn,” I said. I liked the look of this one but I didn’t want to wrestle the thing for a clean pair of undies every day.

  Seth lifted a shoulder. “It just needs a little sandpaper and wax.”

  “You know how to fix things like this?”

  “Sure,” he said, sliding me another sexy smile. “I’m good with my hands.”

  Honeysuckle glanced our way and I pointed at the dresser, then myself, letting her know I’d called dibs on the piece. She nodded in acknowledgment before leading the woman to another painting, this one of a black-and-white striped lighthouse surrounded by seagulls in flight.

  Seth and I walked farther into the yard and came upon a couple of bedside tables. Neither matched the wood on the dresser, but that was okay with me. At this point in my life, price and function were more important than style. “I think I like the white one with the oval top best.”

  Finished bargaining with her other shopper, Honeysuckle traded the lighthouse painting for some bills, slid the cash into a fanny pack at her waist, and moseyed over. “How are you, Officer Megan?”

  “Doing good,” I told her. I gestured to Seth. “This is Seth.”

  She held out a hand to Seth, the eye patch raising along with her brow.

  “I’m Megan’s boyfriend,” he clarified.

  Boyfriend. Yeah, I still wasn’t used to the sound of that. I mean, it’s not like I’d never dated, but I hadn’t been in a serious relationship since I’d finished college and started work at the police department over a year ago. Besides, given my unstable relationship with Seth, it felt a little strange to finally put a label on it. But maybe I was overthinking things. Every couple had their ups and downs, right?

  Honeysuckle shook Seth’s hand. “Nice to meet you.”

  I glanced around, noting none of the pieces showed signs of hail or water damage. “What did you do with all of this stuff yesterday when the storm hit?”

  The woman gestured to the house next door. “My neighbor was kind enough to move it all into the back of his carport for me. I covered it up with plastic and crossed my fingers.”

  I was glad she hadn’t lost her inventory. She relied on the income from her secondhand sales to supplement her social security.

  “I’d like this night table in addition to the dresser,” I told her. “I just moved into a house so I need some new things.”

  “Congratulations on the new place,” she said. “Any chance you need end tables? I just got in a nice pair. Lamps, too, if you’re interested.”

  While I’d made do with next to nothing in my tiny studio apartment, there was no sense in doing without at my new place. There was plenty of space in the living room for a couple of end tables and a lamp. A lamp would come in handy in the bedroom, too. “Show me what you’ve got.”

  By the time I’d finished shopping, I was down two hundred bucks and up a dresser, a night table, two end tables, two lamps, and a full-length mirror on a stand. Honeysuckle even threw in a slightly wobbly park bench for free.

  “Thanks!” I called after we’d loaded the last of it into the truck.

  “Keep in touch!” the old lady called, giving me a final wave before stepping over to attend to a young mother with a baby on her hip who was checking out the children’s toys.

  We arrived at my new residence and returned the dogs to the backyard while we unloaded my new possessions. Frankie was gone. She’d left me a note in the kitchen letting me know she’d gone to roller derby practice and wouldn’t be back until late.

  When Seth and I finished putting the new furniture pieces into place, I gazed around. The house was beginning to look like a home. All I needed now was new bedding. For tonight, though, I’d tough it out with the blankets I’d used on my futon.

  After I spread them on the bed, Zoe trotted in and hopped up onto the blankets, flopping onto her side and rolling back and forth. Seth flopped down next to the cat, rolled onto his back, and cocked a brow, reaching out a hand to me. “Come here.”

  “If you think I’m going to jump right into bed with you, you’re sorely mistaken.”

  “Aw, come on. It’s the least you could do after I helped you move your stuff. Hell, all Rhino did was carry a few things out to your truck and you bought him a pizza.”

  “You want a pizza?”

  He shook his head, climbed off the bed, and wrapped his arms around my waist. “I’d never be satisfied with pizza.”

  He put his soft, warm lips to mine and I nearly melted in his arms. Would things work out between us? I wasn’t sure. I only knew that, either way, I was willing to find out.

  It was well
after seven by then and neither of us was much in the mood to get dressed up and go out for dinner. Instead, we picked up Italian takeout and a bottle of red wine and brought it back to the house, eating it at Frankie’s pine dinette set in the kitchen, a vanilla votive in the middle to provide romantic ambiance.

  While Zoe lay on the floor, swatting at the dogs’ tails, Brigit and Blast ignored her and sat next to the table, staring hopefully up at me and Seth, licking their lips, clearly hoping for a scrap or two.

  “Go away,” I told Brigit. “It’s bad manners to beg.”

  Of course she wasn’t the only one to blame for her bad manners. I used the dog as a garbage disposal so it was no surprise she’d taken to hanging around while I ate to see what might be tossed her way.

  Brigit’s eyes followed my hand as I tore a bite from my garlic bread and carried it to my mouth. She smacked her lips and pawed at my leg.

  “Oh, all right. I give in.” I ripped off a chunk of bread for her and another for Blast. Some disciplinarian I was, huh?

  After we finished our meal, Seth retrieved the wrapped boxes from the truck and the two of us took seats on the couch to exchange our overdue Valentine’s gifts. He picked up the flat box and handed it to me. “This one’s for you.”

  I tore off the wrap. “A hammock! What a great idea.”

  The hammock was made of bright, colorful rope and big enough to accommodate two people. Seth had done it again, found me a perfect gift. Once the weather warmed up, the hammock would be a wonderful place to lie and read in my new backyard. The hammock could also provide some romantic cuddling opportunities …

  “I love it, Seth.” I put a hand on his cheek and a kiss on his lips. “Thanks.”

  He cocked his head to indicate the larger box. “That one’s for Brigit. From Blast.”

  “Is he as good a shopper as you?”

  “You tell me.”

  I called Brigit over to the enormous box and ordered her to “shake” so she’d raise her paw. Once she’d lifted it, I used her claws to tear open the wrap, then pulled the rest off myself. Inside was a bright red Snoopy-style wooden doghouse, complete with her name in black letters over the arched doorway.

  “Did you build this?” I asked.

  Seth nodded. “Found plans online. But Blast helped. See?”

  He pointed to several strands of Blast’s fur that had stuck in the paint. Some help. That was like when Brigit helped me with laundry by dragging all of my dirty socks out of the basket.

  Brigit sniffed the doghouse, circling the outside completely before stepping inside. She turned around and stuck her head out the door, issuing a happy woof as her wagging tail slapped the interior walls. Slap-slap-slap.

  “She loves it!” I gave Seth a smile. “Thanks so much.”

  Blast trotted over to the door and licked at Brigit’s mouth. Puppy love.

  “I’ll carry it out back,” Seth said. “We can find a spot to hang the hammock, too.”

  “But first,” I said reaching into my purse and retrieving the small box, “you have to open your gift.”

  Seth took it from me and pulled off the wrap. Inside was a waterproof swimmer’s training watch that would count and time laps.

  “This is great.” Seth slid the watch onto his wrist. “’Course now I’ll have to up my game, improve my times.” He cut me a smile that said he appreciated the challenge, then gave me a soft kiss in gratitude.

  I flipped on the back porch light and carried the hammock through the dusk while Seth finagled the doghouse out the back door. After trying the doghouse in several places—on the patio, against the back wall of the house, next to the house by the gate—we collectively decided that placing the doghouse catty-cornered in the back of the yard was the best option. The corner would be shady once the leaves grew back on the trees, and it gave Brigit a vantage point over the entire yard, which would better allow her to perform squirrel patrol.

  Locating the hammock was easier given our more limited options. There were only two trees in the yard, the pecan and the oak, so of course the hammock had to be strung between them. The only question was which limbs looked the sturdiest.

  After it was hung, Seth made a broad sweep of his arm. “Your seat, milady.”

  Turning sideways next to it, I flopped back into the woven cocoon, wriggling until I was lying longways. A moment later, Seth joined me.

  I snuggled up next to him, enjoying the feeling of warmth, comfort, and connection. If this moment never ended it would be okay with me.

  We lay there quietly for several minutes, staring up at the stars, before the dogs decided to join us on the hammock.

  Fwump.

  Brigit was on us in one leap that knocked the air out of our lungs and sent the hammock swinging out of control. She flopped on top of me, her legs splayed as she tried to balance herself against the motion. I supposed I could have been annoyed with her for interrupting my romantic interlude with Seth, but frankly I was surprised she’d given us as long as she had before pushing her way into our space.

  Once she settled down, Seth invited Blast onto the hammock, and the two dogs lay butt-to-butt between us humans, who now lay on our sides, facing each other.

  I ran a hand down Brigit’s back and told Seth what happened at the Bag-N-Bottle yesterday.

  His eyes went wide and he pushed himself up on one elbow. “They pulled guns on you?”

  “Three of them did,” I said. “They might have shot me and Brigit, too, if not for the fourth one stepping in.”

  I left out the part where my hand shook so violently the men had laughed at me. It was too embarrassing. I was supposed to be the leader of a tough K-9 team, not a fraidy cat.

  “Any idea who they were?” Seth asked. “Or where to find them?”

  “Not yet,” I said, “but I plan to look into it.”

  Those four might have bested me at the Bag-N-Bottle, but they hadn’t seen the last of Officers Megan Luz and Sergeant Brigit yet. I’d do everything in my power to track them down and bring them to justice. Looting was one thing, but threatening Brigit’s life and mine was another thing entirely. Of course the only clue I had to go on at the moment was the tornado hoodie.

  I gave Blast a scratch at his favorite spot at the base of his tail. “One of them wore a white hoodie with a black tornado on it. It seemed to be a logo of sorts, or maybe a picture of a team mascot.”

  “The mascot for Ball High down in Galveston is the Golden Tornadoes,” Seth said. “Our swim team competed against them back when I was a freshman. And Iowa State’s mascot is a cyclone.”

  I mentally filed away the information. It could prove useful later. Or not. It was often hard to tell which clue would be the one to catch a culprit.

  The night had begun to grow chilly, and both Seth and I had to work the next day, so we called it a night. We ended our postponed Valentine’s celebration with a prolonged kiss at the door. If the organ pumping blood in my chest had been a candy conversation heart, it would have read I’M ALL YOURS, SETH.

  Cupid might have been late this year but, boy, had he delivered.

  TWENTY-NINE

  MY FURRY VALENTINE

  Brigit

  What a great day!

  Megan had shared her people kibble, and Seth and Blast had brought Brigit a nice house that she could chill in out in the yard. And, speaking of yards, Brigit finally had one of her own to run around and dig in! Yippee!

  Megan hadn’t even noticed the sizable hole Brigit and Blast had started digging along the side of the house. Brigit realized Megan might be miffed about the digging, but yesterday’s rain had left the dirt soft and supple, making for easy work. Heck, it would be a crime not to take advantage of such perfect digging conditions. Besides, Megan had her own annoying people habits. She wore too many floral scents, bathed too often, and ate too much fruit that Brigit had no interest in sharing. It was only fair that Megan tolerate some of Brigit’s bad habits in return, right?

  THIRTY

 
DOCTOR JEKYLL AND MISS HYDE

  Dub

  After another bean burrito for lunch on Sunday—God, he was sick of those things!—Dub lay down on the stained carpet to watch football, leaving the recliner for his mother. She sat, but didn’t relax, her foot jiggling nervously.

  “You know I’m glad to have you back home, honey,” she said. “But I don’t make much money. It’s gonna be hard for me to have another mouth to feed. Think maybe you could catch a bus and go over into Fairmount or one of those nice areas around the university and see if anyone needs some help with sumthin’? Bet you could make a buck or two to chip in around here.”

  For the millionth time since agreeing to stay, Dub doubted—no, regretted—his decision to move in with his mother. Just days ago she’d begged him to stay, but now she was treating him like a burden. For God’s sake, he was only fifteen. He shouldn’t be having to worry about putting food on the table or clothes on his back. That was her responsibility. It wasn’t that he minded working. Hell, he’d been doing it as long as he could remember. It’s just that he’d like the chance to be a kid. Besides, the lottery winnings would hold him over for a little while. Of course she didn’t know about that money.

  He stood. “I’ll see what I can scrounge up.”

  He went out to the van, climbed in, and drove to the nearest Walmart store. Carefully, he pulled the wad of cash from the back of the passenger seat.

  Inside the store, he headed straight to the electronics department. He bought two prepaid cell phones, the cheapest ones that had Internet access. He paid for a month of unlimited service in advance for both phones.

  No ID required. No credit check.

  He went to the garden section next. The spring yard tools were already on display. He put a rake, a set of pruners, and a pair of hedge clippers into his cart. He also grabbed a pair of heavy-duty work gloves and a roll of masking tape from the home improvement department. In the men’s clothing section he snagged a package of underwear, a package of socks, a pair of basketball shorts, and a couple of printed T-shirts. A Dallas Mavericks jacket, too. It wasn’t much, but at least he’d have something to wear other than the jeans, T-shirt, and hoodie he’d had on when he’d first come to his mother’s apartment.