Reed Ferguson 1-3

by Renee Pawlish

  The sky morphed into a deep dark blue, then black. The cold crept into my bones. Something rustled in the dead leaves nearby.

  “Bogie wouldn’t be scared,” I thought to myself. “Be cool. It’s only an animal. A small one that doesn’t want to eat you.”

  I thought about Bogart. And dogs. And Bogart and dogs. A stray dog befriends Bogie in the classic film noir High Sierra. But the dog is a bad omen, bringing his owner bad luck. I hoped this canine investigation wasn’t a bad omen for me.

  Stars emerged and the moon, three-quarters full, crept across the night sky. I shifted periodically to keep my legs and butt from falling asleep. Time ticked by but no one appeared. My stomach growled, a roar in the stillness. I stuffed my icy hands in my coat pockets. I battled boredom. Bogie never had to do this, I thought ruefully. This is the part they cut from the films.

  I checked my watch in the moonlight too many times. Finally 8:45 arrived. Not long now.

  My toes were numb now. I gingerly got to my feet and stretched.

  Then I saw it. A light bobbing in the darkness. A tall man appeared over the rise from the south. He clutched a small canvas bag in his hand. I knew from the dark coat, baseball cap, and the bag that it was Gavin Saunders, Gail’s husband. He made no attempt to disguise his approach, but clomped right up to the rock formation. He shined his flashlight at the rock. Then he aimed the light all around him. I ducked down but the beam was not strong enough to illuminate me. Gavin paused, then pushed through the barren bushes and around to the back side of the rock. Leaves crackled loudly in the stillness. Then he emerged without the bag.

  The light bobbed away and complete darkness settled upon me again. I hadn’t realized I’d been holding my breath and I finally exhaled slowly. I rose back to my full height and watched the rock. Nothing.

  I wondered how long I’d been waiting when a sound stopped me short. Had another animal darted through the underbrush?

  I squinted at the rock outcropping. Everything was still, but I was certain I’d heard something. Then the branches moved slightly and a block of a man materialized out of the shrubs, holding the bag. He must’ve been pretty nimble on his feet, because he’d made little noise in the foliage.

  The man peered to the left, in the direction where Gavin had gone. The man paused a second, then gingerly crept onto the trail. He looked all around, assuring himself that Gavin had indeed left. Then he trudged headed north down the trail. As he passed by me, sounds of his heavy breathing cut through the silence. I held my own breath, praying he wouldn’t see me. But he wasn’t using a flashlight and his focus was on the trail and his gait cautious so he wouldn’t stumble.

  I let him get a little ways ahead and I fell in behind him. The dirt on the trail was soft, and I hoped the sounds of his walking would drown out any noise my footfalls might make.

  Then it happened. I hit a patch of ice and slipped, landing hard on my ass.

  “Oof!” My breath escaped in a loud rush.

  I froze for a second and then lifted my head. The man had spun around and was staring back toward me. Then he bolted.

  I scrambled to my feet and ran after him, all surreptitious pretenses gone. I raced along, watching him disappear through a clump of trees and shrubs. I hurried on and rounded a bend. The trail opened into the clear space. The man was at least thirty yards ahead of me. My side screamed as I continued the chase. He stumbled but it didn’t delay him enough. I charged up the hill. The man stopped at the top of the rise, a large silhouette against a silvery black skyline. Then he vanished. I dashed to the top of the slope and veered to the left, toward the parking lot.

  I ran pell-mell, falling headlong in a patch of snow. I shoved myself up and left the trail. Up ahead, in the parking lot, an engine roared to life. The man hurled himself into the passenger side of a dark-colored truck. The truck lurched forward, careening up the hill. It bore down on me and I leaped off to the side, sliding in more snow and ice. The truck swerved just before it reached me, peeling up clods of dirt and snow as the tires fought for traction. Then the truck made a 180, shot back onto the asphalt and tore out of the parking lot. Its headlights came on as it turned right onto South Valley Road. I cut across the parking lot, hoping I could intercept the truck as it drove along the road past the lot. I sprinted by the restroom building and tripped again. I stood up, cursing, and ran smack into another man.

  “Hey!” he yelled.

  “Out of my way.” I pushed him down.

  “Reed, stop! It’s me!”

  The truck’s red taillights disappeared in the distance. I turned and stared at Cal, who was getting to his feet.

  “What the hell are you doing?” I wheezed at him. I bent over to catch my breath.

  “What are you doing?” he countered.

  I waved a hand into the darkness. “I was chasing the dognappers. If I could’ve got close enough, I might’ve got a license plate number.”

  “Oh.” Cal gazed down at me for a second, then shrugged his shoulders. “Sorry.”

  I straightened up. “What are you doing up here? Why aren’t you watching the south lot?”

  “I had to go to the bathroom,” Cal murmured sheepishly. “I didn’t want to use the port-a-potty at night, so I drove over here. But the building isn’t open. I was about to go back to my car when I saw the truck pull into the lot. I hid behind the building.”

  “Could you get a license plate number?”

  Cal shook his head. “I was trying to figure out how I could get it without being spotted when I saw someone run up to the truck and hop in. Then I saw you, only I didn’t know it was you.”

  “So you hid again.”

  “Yes,” Cal said. “I heard the truck tear out of the parking lot, and I recognized your voice so I came out.”

  “So we have nothing.”

  “It was a black truck,” Cal offered.

  “Okay, one clue.” I stared at a rip in one of my gloves. “Did you see anyone at the south lot?”

  “Nobody, other than the Saunders.”

  I sighed. “It doesn’t matter, since the dognappers came up this way.”

  “They parked up here then,” Cal said.

  “No, the guy couldn’t have come from this direction because I didn’t see him ’til he came out from behind the rock with the money. He must’ve been dropped off somewhere along South Valley Road between the park entrances and hiked across the field to the rock.”

  “What do we do now?” Cal asked.

  “Meet up with the Saunders,” I said. “The dognappers got their money, so they should be returning Fuji.”

  I had barely spoken those words when my phone rang.

  “What did you do?” Gail shouted hysterically at me through the phone.

  “What do you mean?” I asked. “I followed the dognappers and –”

  “They say they’re going to kill Fuji,” Gail interrupted. “They say we didn’t follow instructions and so Fuji dies.”

  “Where are you?”

  “At the Albertsons on Kipling,” she wailed.

  “I’ll be right there,” I said and closed my cell phone.

  “Come on,” I said to Cal.

  “What?”

  “The dognappers are threatening to kill Fuji because of me.”

  *****

  “They’re not going to hurt Fuji,” Gavin Saunders comforted Gail. “It’ll be all right.”

  Cal had driven me to my car and then followed me from South Valley Park to our rendezvous point in a grocery store parking lot near the park. Cal dashed off to the store restroom, while I talked with the Saunders.

  “They got their money. Why would they want to kill Fuji?” Gail blubbered. She paced around their Honda, wringing her hands.

  I looked at Gavin. His face was all sharp features and a razor-thin mustache. He was tall, gangly, and his arms flailed around like wet noodles as he paced and talked. “Tell me everything from the time you arrived at the park until now,” I said to him.

  Gavin pau
sed, then draped an arm around Gail. “We parked in the south lot and I hiked to the spot I was supposed to. I left the money behind the rock just like the note said and I hiked back down the trail. Gail stayed in the car. We left right away and drove here to wait for you. About an hour after we left, they called Gail. They were furious that someone had followed them.”

  “He was yelling at me,” Gail sobbed. “The note said ‘No cops’. That’s what he yelled. He said we weren’t supposed to involve anyone else. I told him that he got his money so he should return Fuji and he said that he should kill the damn dog for what we did.”

  “So he didn’t say that he was actually going to kill Fuji,” I said.

  “No,” Gail huffed at me. “But he might as well have. They’re really mad now. They could do anything.”

  “We have to stay positive,” Gavin said. “They have the money. Surely they’ll return Fuji.”

  “Gavin’s right,” I said. “Give me the number they called from.”

  “They wouldn’t be stupid enough to use their own cell phone,” Gavin snorted.

  “It’s probably some kind of prepaid phone, but we have to check.” I glanced at Cal, who had returned from the bathroom, looking relieved. He was a super techo-genius, so if there was any way to find information associated with the phone number, he’d get it.

  Gail read the number to me and I jotted it down. She was putting her phone away when it rang.

  “I don’t know this number,” she said, her hand shaking as she answered.

  “Yes.” She paused. “Yes! That’s our dog. We’ll be right there.”

  “What?” Gavin bellowed as she hung up.

  “Someone at the Chili’s near Southwest Plaza found Fuji tied up in the parking lot,” Gail blurted. “Come on!”

  We raced to our cars and followed Gavin and Gail the few minutes to Southwest Plaza. As we pulled into the parking lot near the Chili’s, I spotted an elderly couple standing near a Lexus. The woman was holding Fuji, stroking his head.

  Gail jumped out of the car before Gavin had even stopped. As she ran up to the couple, Fuji hopped into her arms.

  “Oh, my sweet boy,” she cooed at him.

  “Where did you find him?” I asked the couple.

  The man pointed to a row of trees on the south side of an access road in the mall parking lot. “He was tied to one of the trees. Poor guy was scared, yipping like crazy.”

  “Why would someone leave him here?” the woman said. “Thank goodness the rope was short, otherwise someone might have run over him.”

  “Thank you!” Gail said to the couple. She hugged the woman while Fuji squirmed between them.

  “It’s nothing,” the lady said. “I’m just glad your number was on his tag.”

  “So am I,” Gavin said. He shook the man’s hand.

  “Did you see anyone leave him?” I asked.

  The couple looked at each other and shook their heads. “When we came out of the restaurant, we heard him barking, so we walked over and saw him,” the man said. “No one was around.”

  The Saunders thanked the couple again.

  “Glad to help.” The man smiled as he opened the car door for his wife, then he got in and they drove off.

  “I’m going to see if anyone in the restaurant noticed anything,” Cal said and walked across the road to the Chili’s.

  I surveyed the area. With the exception of a few cars parked in the Chili’s lot, no other cars were anywhere close to where we stood by the trees. The trees blocked the view of the restaurant parking lot. It would’ve been easy to pull up behind the trees, tie up the dog and leave without being spotted by anyone.

  Cal returned. “No one had any idea what I was talking about.”

  “A dead end,” I said. “We can check the phone number, but I doubt we’ll get anywhere with that.”

  “I would love to find those jerks,” Gail said. “But right now I’m just glad Fuji’s back. And believe me, we’ll be watching him like a hawk from now on.”

  Gavin turned to me. “Let us know if you find out anything about the phone number. I want these guys caught.”

  Cal and I waved as the Saunders drove off.

  “We’re not going to find anything with that number,” Cal said.

  I nodded. “You’re right, but check it anyway.”

  “Can I go home now?” he asked. Cal preferred being in his own home, safe with the computers he understood so well.

  “Yeah, thanks for helping,” I said. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”

  Cal grinned as he got in his car. “All’s well that ends well,” he said.

  Or so we thought.

  CHAPTER THREE

  The sun shone brightly Thursday morning, but it did little to dent the frigid air. I arrived at the office at ten, and I stopped short.

  Three ladies stood in my waiting room, whispering to each other. One gripped the leash of a huge Mastiff, one of the few dog breeds I recognized. She was tall and thin, but had an athletic grace about her. She’d have to in order to handle her dog. The second woman was Gail, with Fuji tucked in her arms. Next to her was a plump woman who clutched a tissue that she used to dab her wide brown eyes.

  “Oh, dear Lord,” I murmured.

  “Reed, we need your help,” Gail said.

  “What’s going on?” I gestured for the women to follow me into my office. I pulled a couple of fold-up chairs from a closet and set them up next to the wingback chair. “Have a seat, or seats, ladies.”

  They each settled into chairs. The mastiff slowly slid to the floor where he promptly fell asleep. The two ladies glanced at Gail, and she stared at me.

  “Another dognapping?” I asked, my eyes darting to the woman with the tissue.

  “Yes,” Gail said.

  Boy, was I sharp. I leaned back in my chair, feeling a bit like the great detective Nero Wolfe. It seemed like old Wolfe always had a gaggle of people in his office while he pieced together clues and solved crimes.

  I pointed to the woman with the tissue. “You are?”

  “Belinda,” she said, sniffling. “My dog, Rosie, was taken from my yard last night. I received a ransom note this morning. They want $20,000 for her safe return.”

  I bit my lower lip. The ransom amount had doubled. The dognappers were getting bolder.

  I pulled a pad and pen from a desk drawer. “Let’s get some details,” I said. “What kind of dog do you have?”

  “She’s a Shih Tzu,” Belinda said.

  I wrote down the breed, spelling it as best I could, and mentally noting that Rosie was a small dog. That was the extent of what I knew about Shih Tzus.

  “How valuable is she?” I continued.

  “$150,000,” Belinda said.

  “Another valuable dog,” I said. “What time did she go missing?”

  “Around 5 p.m.,” Belinda said. “I came home from work and let her outside, like I always do. She usually runs around for a bit, and then I go out and get her, or sometimes she’ll bark at the back door when she wants back in.” Belinda swallowed hard. “But she never did. The phone rang and I got it. I figured she’d be wanting back in when I finished the call. She wasn’t barking so I went out to look for her. Then I panicked. I drove around the neighborhood searching for her, but I couldn’t find her.”

  “Do you always come home from work at the same time?” I asked.

  Belinda nodded. “Rosie’s in her kennel all day so I come home right after work to let her out.”

  “It sounds like the dognappers knew your routine.”

  “I hadn’t thought of that,” Belinda frowned.

  “One more thing,” I said. “You said the phone rang?”

  “Yes, right when I let Rosie out.”

  “I received a phone call too,” Gail said. “Right after I’d let Fuji out.”

  “It sounds like that’s how the dognappers distracted you,” I said. “Gail, in your case, they could’ve been watching the yard, waiting until they saw you let the dog out. Then they ca
lled you on the phone and you ran back inside.” I pointed to Belinda. “In your situation, they knew your routine and they called just as you let Rosie out. Either way, the dogs were left unattended.”

  “I know,” Belinda said, her lip trembling.

  “Who was on the phone?” I asked.

  “It was a woman asking if I’d complete a survey. I wasn’t going to but it was about dog food, so I did. I like organic dog food and I figured I’d let her know about how great it is.”

  “Sort of turning the tables on the surveyor,” Gail said.

  “Exactly.” Belinda looked at me. “I chatted with her for a few minutes.”

  “Which is what she wanted,” I said. “Keep you on the phone and away from the back yard and your dog.”

  Belinda blushed.

  “It’s okay,” I said. “So after you looked around the neighborhood, what’d you do?”

  “I was frantic, so I called Lisa.”

  I cocked an eyebrow.

  The woman with the Mastiff raised her hand. “I’m Lisa…Halston. Belinda and I are friends. We met at a dog show a few years back. Anyway, she called me last night and told me about Rosie running away and I was immediately suspicious.”

  “Why?” I asked.

  “Because Lisa and I are also friends,” Gail piped up. “And Lisa knew that Fuji was missing and that we’d received a ransom note.”

  “Hold on,” I said. Too many connections to keep track of, I thought. I wrote down Belinda knows Lisa, Lisa knows Gail on my notepad.

  Lisa bobbed her head emphatically. “I knew it couldn’t be coincidence. Two show dogs going missing so close to each other? No way.”

  “I didn’t know what to do,” Belinda took up her story again. “After talking with Lisa, I was so worried.”

  “Did you call the police?” I asked.

  “No.” Belinda shrugged. “I figured since the police weren’t able to do anything for Gail, why even bother. And I figured if it was the same people taking the dogs, I’d be receiving a ransom note soon and if that happened, I’d tell the police then. I barely slept at all. When I left the house this morning, I noticed an envelope stuck to the front door. Sure enough, it was a ransom note. I called in sick to work and then phoned Lisa.”