Doggone Ugly Creek

by Cheryel Hutton

  “They’re trying to zone your neighborhood so you can’t have any type of business.”

  My breath caught. “Like animal rescues.”

  “Exactamundo.”

  “Oh boy. When is this meeting?”

  “Thursday night, 7 p.m. Thought you should know.”

  “Thanks.”

  “No problem.”

  I ended that call and immediately dialed another.

  “Yeah.”

  I blinked. “Ace, it’s me. Do you know about the rezoning meeting?”

  “Oh course I know.”

  His sharp tone took me by surprise.

  “I’ve spent all morning doing research and making phone calls.”

  “What can I do to help?”

  There was silence for a moment, then a groan. “Ah, sweetheart, I’m sorry. This zoning thing just has me so stressed out I can’t think straight. You’re supporting me. That means more than you know.”

  “If I can do anything else, let me know.”

  “Thank you, honey.”

  “I know you need to get back to preparing for the meeting. I’ll go, but call if you need me.”

  “Thank you, Shay. You mean a lot to me.”

  “You mean a lot to me too.”

  We said our goodbyes, and I leaned back in my desk chair. Who was trying to run Ace out of town? If it was really just Miz Carlisle and maybe a couple of other people, like Mr. Vanetti, it wouldn’t happen. Would it?

  I’m sure Ace had things well in hand, but it wouldn’t hurt for me to poke around a little and talk to a few people. I opened the Internet and searched the town’s website. While I was reading that, I dialed Mr. Costa’s number. If anybody in this town knew what was going on it was him.

  Even Mr. Costa hadn’t heard about the zoning change request. The town was so quiet and uneventful that few people seemed to pay attention to what happened at the council meetings.

  “They’re so boring I only make my reporter stay ten minutes,” Mr. Costa said. “If it’s going to be one of those rare times something will happen, everybody usually knows about it weeks in advance.”

  This time, though, the Ugly Creek grapevine was lacking in information. He agreed to put a piece in the paper, and I hurriedly wrote it for him.

  I quickly discovered most people knew nothing about the meeting. When I told Stephie that, she and Jake vowed to call everybody they knew. Liza tore herself from business woes long enough to call people. Even Steve said he’d be at the meeting to back Ace. I was proud of my new friends and how they were willing to come together to protect one of their own.

  Tired but filled with pride in my new home, I went out on the porch with a new writers’ magazine and braved the Wrath of Carlisle to read on my own front porch. For a while, she made a point of letting me know she was there. Maybe I was boring, because she finally went into her house.

  I was reading about contract clauses to look out for, when I heard a voice. I looked up to see Chuck Vanetti walking down the road. He went to the door across the street, and spoke to the man who answered.

  Next he crossed to Miz Carlisle’s house, but when he saw me he yelled, “Have you seen my dog?”

  I put the magazine down and walked over to the fence. The man’s forehead was tight and anger flashed in his eyes. “Your dog’s missing?” I asked.

  “It was that Ellison boy.” Miz Carlisle came out and stood with her arms crossed, an expression of disgust on her face.

  “No,” I said. “It was probably the dognapper.”

  “There’s no dognapper,” Miz Carlisle said. “It’s that Ellison boy stealing dogs. He’s not right in the head.”

  Mr. Vanetti glared at me. “You were the one with him when he came around messing with my dog.”

  “He was trying to save your dog’s life.” I glared right back.

  “I can take care of my own damn dog.”

  “Apparently not,” I told him.

  He took a step toward me. “I don’t like people messing in my business.”

  I managed to stay where I was and not run like a bunny from a wolf. “Letting a dog die while tied up in your front yard is everybody’s business, or should be.”

  “She’s been around that crazy Ellison so much she’s starting to sound like him,” Miz Carlisle said.

  I sucked in my breath. All at once I got it. I understood why Ace felt the way he did. Helpless animals didn’t deserve to be mistreated by humans who should know better. “Thank you,” I said.

  “Where did he put my dog?”

  Mr. Vanetti took another step toward me.

  “The dognapper took him.” I stood and faced the man. Looked him right in the eye.

  “She just told you Ellison has him,” Miz Carlisle said.

  I turned to face the woman. “Ace is not a dognapper. In fact, he’s tried hard to find the dogs and discover who took them.”

  “What do you expect him to do, admit he stole them?”

  Miz Carlisle glared right back at me.

  I turned to Mr. Vanetti. “Ace will help you find your dog.”

  He put one hand on the fence and leaned over it until his face was inches from me. “I don’t want his help. Or yours.”

  In spite of using every bit of courage I had, my feet backed a step closer to the edge of the porch. “Your loss.”

  His eyes widened. “Screw you, I’m going to look for my mutt.”

  “I’ll call the cops for you,” Miz Carlisle said.

  “Thank you.” He headed toward the road.

  I turned to go back to the house. For a small, quiet town with a reputation for taking care of each other, this place was nuts.

  “I guess you’ll just have to go with Ellison when he leaves.”

  My very last nerve snapped, and I spun to march back to the fence. “Ace is not leaving.”

  She smiled, but it looked more like a grimace. Seems she rarely exercised those particular facial muscles.

  “I wouldn’t be so sure if I were you.”

  I grabbed my magazine from the porch and got myself in the house before I did something I’d regret. Like punch a much older woman in the nose. As soon as I was behind the closed door, I dialed Ace’s number. It rang and rang and went to voicemail. “Call me. It’s important,” I said, then clicked off the phone.

  “You okay?”

  Terri’s frown reminded me I still shook with anger.

  “That mean old biddy needs to have an attitude adjustment.”

  Terri’s lips pulled into a mischievous smile. “So, tonight?”

  In spite of the state of my emotions, I smiled too. “Seems to be the perfect time.”

  My cousin chuckled evilly as she headed into the kitchen. To eat, no doubt. If she wasn’t a dog, she’d weigh a ton.

  I tried Ace’s number again. He still wasn’t answering. “Vanetti’s dog is missing and they’re blaming you.” I told his voicemail, and hoped he got the message.

  Right now I had a plan to pull off.

  ****

  It was that time of day when daylight and dark blend in a colorful, shadowy world where perception is skewed, and confusion is easier to achieve. Or at least that was our working theory.

  Trixie bounced out the doggie door and loped around the yard a couple of times. When she came close to the back porch where I could see her, she met my gaze and lowered her head in a nod. I nodded back and slipped around the corner of Aunt Ruth’s house, using the small bushes across the front of the house to obscure my movements. I got in what I hoped was a good position, made sure my little camera was ready, and waited for the show to begin.

  Miz Carlisle, puttering in her flowerbed as usual, couldn’t miss seeing Trixie leap over the fence into her yard. If that hadn’t attracted her attention, Bumpkins’s high-pitched yowl would have done the trick.

  The woman got to her feet faster than a person of her age should be able to, and rushed toward Trixie. “Get out of here, you big smelly menace!”

  I used the distra
ction to move closer, ducking behind the shrubs on her side of the fence to get into position for part two.

  Trixie vanished into the shadows near the back of the house. Bumpkins edged that way, stopping to hiss every few feet.

  “It’s all right,” Miz Carlisle told the cat. “I’ll make sure that mean old doggie doesn’t hurt you.”

  She turned toward the back of the house, chin up, fists clenched. I raised my camera to catch her next reaction. It didn’t take long. Miz Carlisle screamed, and I caught the moment for posterity.

  “What are you doing in my yard like that?” The old woman made an up-and-down motion with her hand.

  Terri stood smiling at the woman and her cat. “I came over to play with Bumpkins.” She reached her hand out toward the cat, and he backed away.

  The side of the cat’s body was against Miz C’s legs, his fur stood on end, and he hissed with everything he had.

  “Leave him alone!” Miz C. yelled. “Where is that mangy mutt of yours? He was in my yard getting Bumpkins all stirred up.”

  “Trixie wasn’t out here. She’s home taking a nap.”

  “You’re lying. I saw the beast, and Bumpkins did too.”

  Terri squatted in front of the cat and proceeded to baby talk to him. “Did you see the big, pretty doggie? She’d like to play with you.”

  Bumpkins backed away, still hissing, until he was behind Miz C and glaring at Terri from between his human’s legs.

  “Dogs and cats don’t play together.” The woman leaned away, her lip curled, and her hand on her throat, as if Terri had just suggested she try a particularly kinky sexual position.

  I was about to begin my part of the party when a car pulling into Miz C’s driveway brought the festivities to an abrupt halt.

  Miz C glanced at the car and then back at Terri. “Get out of here before I call the cops. Nudity is illegal, you know.”

  “Only in public,” Terri muttered as she slipped into the foliage

  The car’s door opened and a man stepped out. “What are you doing here?” Miz C asked.

  “Nice to see you too, Mama.”

  “What do you want?” the woman glanced toward where Terri had been, and her eyes widened. “I told her that mangy beast was in my yard!”

  Trixie paused when she passed me behind Miz C’s shrubs. I’d seen it before, but a collie winking at me will still be a weird experience when I’m as old as dirt. Like having a cousin who can morph into a dog isn’t strange enough.

  “What a beautiful collie,” the man said, as he reached his hand out to Trixie.

  She sat in front of him, giving him her best I’m-a-sweet-doggie look. He scratched her head, and she looked up at him with great affection.

  “Don’t touch that horrible beast.”

  “Chill, Mom, dogs are amazing animals.”

  “They’re nasty.”

  The man sighed. “No more so than cats.”

  Using the subsequent heated argument as a distraction, I headed back toward the house before I was spotted. Trixie could hold her own.

  I was almost at the porch when Ace’s car pulled into our driveway. “Welcome to Grand Central Station,” I muttered, wondering what happened to our carefully laid plan. By the time Ace slid out of his Xterra, though, I was smiling.

  “Hello, Shay. Sorry to just stop by, but you weren’t answering your phone.”

  I’d left it in the house to make sure some unexpected noise didn’t screw up our plan. “Welcome to my world.”

  He tugged me closer for a quick, hot kiss.

  “I stopped by to thank you.”

  “Thank me for what?”

  He leaned closer and whispered in my ear.

  “For the heads up. I was able to get Buster to a friend.”

  A sharp chill moved through me. “You took Vanetti’s dog.”

  Wariness flashed in his eyes.

  He edged us right up against the side of his SUV and leaned close.

  “I was trying to save him.”

  A horrible question twisted my heart. “Were you trying to save the others too?”

  “You think I took the other dogs?” Disappointment weighed down the words. “I thought you knew me better than that.”

  Pain twisted my heart. “You stole a dog.”

  “Yes, I did.”

  I started to speak, but he held up a hand.

  “Buster’s chain was wrapped around that damn tree again. He couldn’t have reached his water bowl. Not that it mattered; there was no water in it anyway.”

  My accusing heart felt heavy in my chest. What was I thinking? Ace wasn’t a thief, he was a hero. “You saved his life.”

  He didn’t say anything as I stood there trying to deal with the emotions filling my throat. Finally I was able to look at him. “I’m sorry, Alex.”

  His lips pulled into a soft smile. “You’re a special woman, Shannon.”

  Warm tingles invaded my stomach and spread throughout my body from there. Time stood still as we looked into each other’s eyes. Until the sound of a big dog jumping over the fence broke the enchantment. Trixie headed our way, looked me straight in the eye, and barked once sharply.

  “Something important?” I asked.

  She dipped her head once, then headed around the house.

  I turned back to Ace, who was giving me a very strange look.

  “I guess you’re wondering what that was all about.”

  He looked at me like he was trying to decide which of us needed the straightjacket more.

  “You were talking to the dog.”

  “Yes.”

  He licked his lips and I saw the hint of a smile.

  “And she answered?”

  “Yes.” I put a hand on his arm. “Trixie is not your average dog.”

  “She’s very well-trained. Your cousin should be proud.”

  I hated to deflate his belief all this was normal. “Let’s go in the house and see what she found out that’s so important.”

  “You’re kidding, right?”

  I took his hand and tugged him toward the porch steps. “Come on. It’ll be okay.”

  Terri, wearing a robe, met us in the living room.

  “What did you find out?” I asked, as I shoved Ace toward a chair.

  “Wait,” he said. “It was Trixie who supposedly found something out.” He narrowed his eyes. “You have a recorder on the dog, don’t you? Not a bad idea.”

  “No,” I said. “No recorder. Trixie heard something important.”

  “The dognapper is Agent Max Killian,” Terri said.

  Sharp little shocks skittered down my arms and legs. “The FBI agent?”

  “Yep.”

  “This is ridiculous.” Ace, still standing, crossed his arms over his chest. “And way too important to play games.”

  “It’s not a game, Ace. Trixie really was spying on our neighbor.”

  “How could you possibly know what the damn dog heard?” He looked at Terri. “Let me guess, you’re psychic.”

  “No. I’m Trixie.”

  Ace groaned. “You’re a human, not a dog.”

  “She’s both,” I said.

  “This is not funny.”

  He gave me a hard glare.

  “I’ll show you,” Terri said.

  He turned to look at her. “Right, and I’ll—”

  Where Trixie had been standing was a collie with a bathrobe hanging over her back.

  “What the hell?”

  He stumbled, and I edged him into the nearest chair. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Trixie head for Terri’s room.

  “Did she really just do that?”

  “Yes, she did.”

  “I was afraid you were gonna say that.”

  “This from the man who’s friends with Bigfoot.”

  “Bigfoot is an unusual creature, that’s all. This is…crazy.”

  “When you two finish discussing metaphysical possibilities, I’d like to figure out what to do about this dognapper-agent dude.” Terri
strode into the room and sat on the edge of the coffee table. She was wearing shorts and a halter top.

  “Thanks for getting dressed,” I said.

  Ace looked at her as if he were afraid she’d morph into a gator or something. I enjoyed his expression for a moment before reality lowered its weight back into my thoughts. I swallowed. “It’s not just taking the dogs, you know. Killian is investigating Steve’s break-in.”

  Terri’s eyes widened. “Do you think it’s possible the two are related?”

  “How could they not be?”

  We both turned to look at Ace, and he shrugged.

  “Unless you believe it’s a coincidence that the napping and investigation happened simultaneously and with the same man involved in both.”

  “Maybe he was here for the investigation and decided it was a great opportunity to steal dogs.” Terri’s face was pale.

  “Or the investigation was a setup to cover the dognapping.”

  I shuddered. “By that logic he must be involved in the software theft.”

  Ace nodded slowly. “It’s possible.”

  Terri sighed. “Oh, boy.”

  Something occurred to me. “Wait a minute. How did you find this out over in Miz Carlisle’s yard? Is her son involved?”

  “No,” Terri said. “She is.”

  Chapter 16

  “Miz C is involved in dognapping?” I couldn’t wrap my head around it.

  Terri nodded. “She got a call on her cell phone. I didn’t even know she had a cell, did you? Anyway the caller was Agent Killian and they were discussing whether they had enough dogs.”

  “You’re sure about this?” Ace asked.

  “Positive,” Terri said.

  “Her son must be involved too,” Ace said. “If she was talking right in front of him.”

  “No, I don’t think so. She moved almost to the house to take the call.” Terri grinned. “Only a dog could have heard what was said from that far away.”

  “What do we do?” I asked, still thrown by our elderly neighbor being somehow involved with a dog-stealing FBI agent.

  “The first thing I’m going to do is call Steve.” Ace pulled out his phone.

  “Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Terri leaned forward in her seat. “Not about warning him, about using a cell to do it. This Killian dude is FBI.”

  Ace groaned. “I should have thought of that.”