Dog Gone

by Shannon Esposito

  A visible tremor ran through Talia. “Ready?”

  The night air was chilly as we stepped out. It cooled the sweat from the back of my neck as we moved around to the back of the car. Talia popped the trunk open and we struggled to lift the heavy duffle bag.

  “Who knew a million dollar’s worth of hundred dollars bills could even fit in a duffle bag.” I grunted as it landed on my toe. “Ouch.”

  Buddha made snuffing sounds as he sniffed the bag curiously.

  “It’s not as much money as you’d think.” Talia bent at the knees and grabbed one handle.

  I grabbed the other handle and we lifted together. I felt the strain in my lower back. “I beg to differ.”

  I didn’t bother putting Buddha on a leash, since the marina was empty at this time of night. The only movement was the moored boats swaying gently on the black water. Only a sliver of waning moon hung in the sky. Peaceful really, if only we weren’t scared out of our minds.

  “There.” I pointed to the end of the boat slips where a medium sized wedge-shaped boat with a flag sat idling. It wasn’t under one of the tall lamps, so the boat floated in the shadows, and I couldn’t see the color of the flag, but this had to be our guy.

  We exchanged a worried look and then continued down the wooden walkway towards the boat. By the time we reached it, my arms were aching and my legs were jelly. I was also breathing hard from the stress.

  A figure wearing a black jumpsuit and a ball cap pulled low over his eyes stood up. The boat rocked a bit. “Just leave it there,” the figure commanded.

  Talia dropped her side of the bag. Her breathing was coming in jagged breaths, too. I dropped mine. We were frozen. Not sure what to do next.

  “Step back away from the bag,” the dark figure called out.

  I stepped back. A low growl rumbled in Buddha’s chest. I reached down to grab his collar, and that’s when all hell broke loose.

  Something flew by us, shaking the wooden walkway. Buddha let out a surprised yelp.

  A primordial yell pierced the night air as the boat rocked violently. Someone had leapt onto it and landed on top of the man in black. The two figures wrestled. There was cursing and grunting and more violent rocking.

  “I’ll kill you!” someone yelled.

  “No!” Talia suddenly shouted. She stumbled toward the boat. “Stop it!”

  “Talia, wait!” I called, lurching after her, still holding onto Buddha.

  Just then a helicopter—I’d vaguely registered the sound of its approach—roared into position above us and flipped on a spotlight. Shielding our eyes, we all froze, staring up, trying to make sense of its presence here. Suddenly it shifted and I caught the letters on the side, “News 2.” My heart sank.

  “No, no, no.” Forcing my legs to move, I grabbed Talia’s arm. “We have to go.”

  To her credit, she had the presence of mind to take the bag of money. I grabbed the other handle to help her, and we hobbled as fast as we could back to the car, Buddha trotting behind us. We tossed it back in the trunk and took off out of the marina.

  “Why? Why did he ruin everything?” Talia was sobbing, the stress released in uncontrollable tears as she drove us back to the safety of her mansion. “I wouldn’t tell him where we were meeting. I told him I didn’t want him to interfere!” she choked.

  I twisted my body to check the sky above us. The helicopter was now swooping in our direction, its spotlight almost reaching us. Drive faster, I willed her. “Who was that?”

  “Sammy,” she said with venom. “He ruined everything.” She steered through the open gates, pulled into the cover of the garage and shut off the engine. The garage door rumbled closed behind us. The heavy thump thump sound of the helicopter was above us. Falling forward, she let her forehead rest on the steering wheel. She sat there, her slight shoulders shaking.

  There wasn’t anything I could do or say to help, so I just stayed silent and let her cry it out. At least the helicopter was moving away.

  My phone vibrated in my bag. I pulled it out. Devon. “Hey.”

  “The tracker’s sayin’ you’re at Talia’s house. What happened?”

  I opened the car door to get some air. Buddha’s hot breath on the side of my face was making me claustrophobic. My mind barely registered the black Hummer and old Corvette stashed in the pristine five car garage. “Sammy happened.” Now that I had time to think about it, I got angry. “Talia says she didn’t tell him where we were going, so he must’ve followed us. I’m sorry, we weren’t looking for that.”

  I could hear Devon’s attempt at staying calm but his voice was strained. “So the money hand off didn’t happen?”

  I rubbed my forehead, where a headache was threatening to bloom. “No. And worse than that. A news helicopter showed up.”

  “What? The press? How?”

  I shook my head, lifting a hand helplessly. “Who knows.”

  Talia sat back up and wiped her damp face with the corner of her black, cashmere sweater. “I’ll never get her back now,” she said. Her arms went limp by her sides. She looked utterly defeated.

  “We don’t know that.” I tried to be confident, but my words sounded hollow, even to my ears. I turned my attention back to the phone. “Can you gather everyone up and come to Talia’s? I think she’s going to need some support tonight.”

  “Be there as soon as we can.”

  ***

  After sending Lulu home to get some sleep for the baby’s sake, the rest of us stayed with Talia through the night, trying to keep her from sinking into a pit of despair. Buddha had fallen asleep next to Ginger’s bed, with his nose pressed into the side of it, as if it were too sacred to actually sleep in. Marcel kept a flow of thick, black coffee coming.

  Talia clutched the green frog in her hand as we talked and tried to come up with a new plan. We decided there was nothing we could do besides wait and see what the dognapper’s next move would be. By 5 a.m. we’d given up and turned on Channel 2 News.

  I felt nauseous as we waited. After a commercial about a drug for constipation caused by other drugs, there it was: “Breaking News” video footage of Sammy and the boat driver wrestling in the rocking boat. Then Talia and I grabbing the duffel bag and struggling to get it back to the car.

  I groaned.

  The female newscaster spoke as the video replayed over again in the top right corner of the screen. “An anonymous tip turned into a scene ripped from the movies, as actress Talia Hill is seen here on the exclusive island of Moon Key, with an as-yet-unidentified female, in an alleged attempt to exchange a one million dollar ransom pay-off for the safe return of her beloved dog. Her dog nanny was reportedly murdered last Saturday, and her dog disappeared at that time. As you can see here ...” the video paused and enlarged, giving viewers a still, grainy image of the two men in the boat. “One of the men appears to be Sammy Salazar, retired UFC champion fighter and ex-husband of Miss Hill.”

  “He doesn’t look very retired,” the other newscaster quipped.

  “That he doesn’t, Jim.”

  I glanced over at Talia. Her eyes were a cold blue fire, her jaw clenched tight.

  “Well, it appears this exchange did not go as the dognapper planned. We can only hope this botched ransom exchange doesn’t kill the chances of Ms. Hill getting her dog back unharmed. Clearwater police have declined to comment but asked that anyone with information about the murder of Jamie Diggs, or the whereabouts of Talia Hill’s missing dog—a West Highland white terrier last seen wearing a pink collar—to call this hotline number they’ve set up.” An 800 number began to scroll across the screen.

  “Like they care,” Talia growled, flicking off the TV. “An anonymous tip? No one knew where and when we were dropping off the ransom money besides us, Sammy ... and the police.”

  Beth Anne had her legs curled up beneath her on the sofa. She yawned and then stretched her long arms over her head. “I don’t think Sammy would’ve tipped them off, do you?”

  I leaned forward an
d set down my empty coffee cup. “No, I don’t. Maybe something good will come out of this, though. At least the public is alerted to Ginger being missing now and has a number to call.” I turned to Devon. “Do you think there’s a leak in the police department?”

  He rubbed his palms on his jeans. “Don’t know. But I’ll find out. We’ll go straight to the station after we get your ma settled in at home.”

  “Oh, yeah.” My mood sank even further. “Today is the day, isn’t it? I forgot.” More like refused to acknowledge it. Guess it was time to face up to reality. My mother was going to invade my perfectly blissful life, and I couldn’t do anything about it.

  I tried to tell myself that it’d give me a chance to spend time with her, that I would miss her when she was gone. The truth was, though, I didn’t think I would. I couldn’t imagine what I’d miss about her or our relationship, considering we never really had one. Besides me taking care of her. Then the guilt came. I had enabled her. I knew I had. I was partly responsible for her condition, her addiction. Pushing away the hot rush of shame, I stiffened my back. This was not helping Talia.

  Devon’s eyes were blood shot, his dark hair mussed from running his hands through it in frustration. He squeezed my knee and tried to give me an encouraging smile. Then he turned to the other sullen faces in the room. “Look, I think the best thing to do right now is keep up the investigation while we wait for the dognapper’s next move. I’m sure he still wants the money, so I don’t think we’ve heard the end of him. There’s still hope, Talia.”

  Everyone agreed, trying to rally one last bit of encouragement for Talia, drawing from empty, exhausted reserves. It was time to start the day, and it was going to be a hard one to get through.

  “Please try to get some sleep,” I said to Talia at the door. “And call us as soon as you hear anything.”

  Her bottom lip trembled as she whispered, “I will.”

  I gave her hands one last squeeze and was greeted with a squeak from the green frog. The sound broke my already-cracked heart wide open.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  I usually looked forward to Saturdays. Saturdays had become the day Devon and I played on the beach with the dogs, cooked delicious meals together, lounged around and just enjoyed each other’s company. Today though, I dragged my weary sleep-deprived body and soul through the hospital corridors, clutching Devon’s hand for strength. The tears were already prickling my eyes, and the anxiety was pushing my blood pressure up to audible levels in my ears. The antiseptic smell was churning my empty stomach into nausea.

  I forced myself to breathe. I forced my mind to watch that breath expand my lungs and then let my lungs deflate slowly. I did this three times so, by the time we were walking into her room, I had my emotional storm somewhat under control.

  “Hey, Mom. You ready to get out of here?” I busied myself gathering up her shoes and the plastic bag a nurse had stashed her belongings in, so I didn’t have to make eye contact. “We’re going to take you to Devon’s place for a few days, to make sure you heal properly.”

  A dark-haired nurse was helping her sit up. “Will I have my own TV there?” Mom croaked through a dry throat.

  “Of course, Ms. Pressley,” Devon said, rolling the wheelchair closer to her bed. “And your own nurse to get you whatever you need.” Devon and the nurse helped her slide off the bed and into the wheelchair. Her breathing was labored. Her face was pale, with an underlying yellow tinge. A bandage stuck out of her blouse below her neck.

  “Guess money does buy everyone,” she grunted.

  I startled at her comment. What did that mean? Does she know Devon’s rich? How could she know that? I shook it off. “Are you in much pain, Mom?”

  “Well, they cut me open like a roasted pig, what’d you think?” A cough rattled her chest.

  I gave the nurse a concerned look. “Is there anything we should be looking for as far as infection or anything else dangerous?”

  She nodded. “Fever, any sign of redness or swelling around the incision area.” She handed me a bag of medications. “There’s a pain killer in there. Instructions are on the printout. Make sure she gets up and moves daily.” She glanced at Mom and then gave me a wry smile. “Whether she wants to or not.”

  “Got it. Thanks.”

  Devon wheeled her around the bed, toward the door. “Here we go.”

  We got her settled in Devon’s spare bedroom at home, putting up a gate at the hallway entrance to her room to keep the dogs out. Buddha already knew this wasn’t a human who wanted his attention, so he steered clear when we came in the door. Petey, on the other hand, wanted nothing in the world more than to lick this newcomer’s face. He spent the first ten minutes whining at the gate, dripping saliva on the tile from his panting tongue. I had half a mind to let him in. He eventually gave up though, went to find his bone and stretched out under the half-decorated Christmas tree to gnaw on it.

  I tried to keep my tone cheery. “Devon and I have some things to take care of today, but your nurse will be here any minute and she’ll stay with you tonight.”

  Mom clicked the TV channel changer repeatedly, not looking at me as she mumbled, “So you’re just going to leave me here in this strange house. Got more important things to do than taking care of your mother, who just had open heart surgery. Typical.”

  I tucked the blanket under her feet, even though it suddenly felt very hot in here. “The nurse is much more equipped to deal with your needs. I’ll get you some water. Be right back.”

  “It’s not like you haven’t left me before.”

  Ignoring her remark, I stepped out of the room and leaned against the wall. I focused on letting my anger go. I will not let her get to me. I will not let her get to me.

  Once in the kitchen, I decided to make her a green smoothie. It would give her some much needed nutrition and besides ... it would take longer than pouring a glass of water. I wasn’t proud of my alterterior motive, but I already needed space.

  “You doin’ okay?” Devon wrapped his arms around me from behind as I shoved celery and kale violently into the Vitamix.

  I relaxed into his body, letting him support me for a moment. “I’ll be fine.”

  “You will be.” His warm lips pressed against my neck, under my ear. I closed my eyes. “When the nurse arrives, let’s head over to the police station.”

  He hugged me tighter against him. “Your wish is my command.”

  Just then the doorbell rang, followed by the dogs’ barking. The nurse! I felt relief flood my body. “Saved by the bell.”

  ***

  Clearwater Police Station was busy today. As we waited in the crowded lobby for Detective Vargas, Sammy Salazar walked through the front doors, a gold-digging floozy on his arm in the shape of Georgia Waters.

  I crossed my arms protectively across my stomach, wishing I’d done more than throw on my “I’ll be Om for Christmas” t-shirt and pull my hair back in a ponytail.

  Devon stiffened beside me.

  They didn’t spot us at first as they made their way over to the lady behind the bulletproof window. But since they had to wait, too, and there was nowhere to wait except the lobby, they headed straight toward us.

  Georgia’s eyes flashed like blue lightning when she spotted me. Why did that woman hate me so much? Then they narrowed and a secret smile touched her pink, glossy lips.

  “Hello, Elle, Devon,” she purred.

  Devon ignored her, staring a hole through Sammy instead. “You know you put both Talia’s and Elle’s life in danger with that stunt you pulled last night. And destroyed any chance we had to follow the money back to Ginger.”

  He shrugged, his eyes equally full of rage. “I had to do something. We both know that scum is planning on taking Talia’s money and running. We’ll never see Ginger again. I couldn’t just let him get away with it, without a fight.”

  Devon’s jaw twitched. “I don’t know that and neither do you. What are ya doing here anyhow?”

  “I got a look a
t the boat driver. Not a great one. It was pretty dark and chaotic. But enough to try to make a go of it with a sketch artist.”

  Devon rocked back on his heels and stared at Sammy with growing intensity. “Any idea who tipped off the press about the exchange?”

  I watched Sammy’s expression carefully for any signs he was lying as he shook his head. “Nope.”

  Then I happened to catch Georgia out of the corner of my eye. She’d dropped her chin and was trying not to smile.

  Oh. My. God. It was her! Why? Why would she do that?

  Before my scrambled brain could come up with a motive, Detective Vargas charged through the door and approached us. Her dark gaze flicked around our group, assessing the situation and emotional climate. She missed nothing. “All of you come with me.”

  When we walked through the doors, she pointed to a conference room to our right. “Devon and Elle, wait for me in there. I’m just going to hand Mr. Salazar here over to the sketch artist.”

  Devon went to the folding table against the back wall and poured steaming coffee into a Styrofoam cup. “Want one?”

  “No thanks.” I lowered my weary bones into a chair and rubbed my arms. It was chilly in here. “Devon, I think it was Georgia who tipped off the press. Did you see the smirk on her face? I mean, it makes sense, right? Sammy probably told her about the exchange and where he was going, that he was going to follow us. Maybe she was mad that he was playing knight-in-shining-armor to his ex-wife. Maybe she wanted to mess up the ransom exchange or just couldn’t resist the chance to hurt Talia.”

  He carried his coffee over and took the seat beside me, his finger tapping the side of the cup. After a few seconds he nodded. “A woman scorned. She does seem the type.”

  Anger exploded within me, threatening to lift me off the chair and catapult me down the hall to throttle Georgia Waters. “I don’t understand how she can spend so much energy trying to destroy other people’s lives.”

  “I know you don’t.” Devon leaned over and kissed my forehead tenderly. “That’s one of the infinite reasons I love you.”