Unleashed: Case of the Gold Retriever
By
Erik Schubach
Copyright © 2018 by Erik Schubach
Self publishing
P.O. Box 523
Nine Mile Falls, WA 99026
Cover Photo © 2018 Dean Drobot / ShutterStock license | Tan4ikk / Depositphotos license
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author / publisher, except by a reviewer who wishes to quote brief passages in connection with a review written for inclusion in a magazine, newspaper, blog, or broadcast.
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
Manufactured in the United States of America
FIRST EDITION
ISBN 978-0-9993740-6-1
Table Of Contents
Chapter – 1 Moola
Chapter – 2 Broadway Cat
Chapter – 3 Jewels
Chapter 4 – Gulp
Chapter 5 – Hectic Afternoon
Chapter 6 – Liberty
Chapter 7 – Old Friends
Chapter 8 – Central Park Tails
Chapter 9 – Times Square
Chapter 10 – Window Washer
Chapter 11 – God Damn It, Fin!
Chapter 12 – Barnabas Sheffield
Epilogue
Chapter – 1 Moola
Damn, she's fast! I ran through the streets of Manhattan with my partner by my side as I saw our target turn to dart down East 68th. I blew some of my loose brown curls from my eyes and shoved my hair back over my shoulders.
Then I poured on the speed, cutting through the dense afternoon foot traffic yelling out, “Make a hole people!” Some people moved aside while others who wore their New York blinders just kept moving down the center of the walk as we dodged around them.
We skidded around the corner, my lungs burned as I sucked in the early fall air that had just a tinge of cool crispness in it. A welcome relief after a scorcher of a summer. I glanced around, seeing backup closing in on all sides. Maybe we could contain this situation before someone got hurt.
I lost track of our target and checked the stream of incoming sightings on the screen of my cell. I glanced toward the alley down the block and saw her dart into it at a full out run. I pointed and shouted to my partner, “There, Calvin! The alley.” We ran upstream through the foot traffic shouting, “Make a hole! Official business!”
Once we got to the alleyway, I saw her dart west and grinned. I knew where she was heading now, and sent a quick message that we would cut her off, then looked at Calvin, who wasn't even breathing hard as I wheezed. I gasped, hands on my knees as I tried to catch my breath then pointed, “This way!” And we were off.
I smiled as we approached Central Park. These chases always ended the same, the escapees always headed for familiar ground, always. That was going to be her mistake.
Sure enough, just as we burst out onto 5th Avenue, I saw her darting across the road and into the park, cars just narrowly missing her. We had her now. I paced her as we ran through the stop and go traffic... the people sneaking out of their offices to beat rush hour. Ironic since everyone always had the same idea and caused their own gridlock.
I pointed and blurted out between rasping breaths, “Split up!” Without hesitation, Calvin dove over the low brick wall which separated 5th Avenue from the most amazing park in the world, at least in my opinion.
His sudden appearance before our target caused her to hesitate, that was all I needed as I dove over the wall and rolled into her path grabbing hold with an expert grip honed over the past few years which immobilized her. It was over.
What? Me? A cop? Oh no no no, not me, that'd be my roommate, Jane. I suppose I should introduce myself. The name's Finnegan Temperance May, dog walker extraordinaire, at your service. No really, at your service, if you have a dog in need of walking, you can book me on my website at FinneganWalks.com.
I'd strike a silly pose for you if I weren't panting as hard as Buttercup, the little Chihuahua in my hands. My border collie, Calvin, being the opportunistic boy he is, moved over to give both me and Buttercup a big old wet slurp. Then cocked his head as to ask why I was panting so hard.
I got my breathing under control and pulled a harness and leash out of my shoulder bag and clipped Buttercup up. Slipping the leash over my wrist, it gave me the freedom to pull out my cell as I sat in the bushes on the ground.
I sent out a quick message on the network letting everyone know to 'Cancel the Broken Leash, target acquired.'
There are a huge number of dog walkers in the city, more than most people can imagine. In New York City alone, there were close to ten thousand licensed dog walkers. If you counted the Loose Leashes as we called them, the people who illegally freelanced without a license and undercut us professionals, we had half again as many.
We... are legion.
And we all have each other's backs in situations like this even though dog walking is a cutthroat profession. A Broken Leash is usually a death knell for any dog walker. It is the term we apply to a situation where a dog gets loose from them. We all do what we can to help return the dog before the owners find out that it had occurred, so the walker doesn't get fired. And lately, because of a couple of my misadventures, the Broken Leash has even been called upon to find people.
Nobody can get through the busy, congested sidewalks of Manhattan like Calvin and me, so when the Broken Leash was sounded fifteen minutes ago, everyone started feeding me the updates as I ran... and ran. I'm small enough to get through gaps between people on the sidewalk most others can't manage.
My breathing was getting back under control as I smirked and tapped the skull and crossbones on my cell's contact list. On the first ring, a harried male voice blurted out, “Talk to me Fin.”
Rafiel Moretti, of Rafiel's Canine Walkers, owner of the conglomeration of dog walkers he has convinced that they had more power in numbers, when actually it weakened their palatability by being a commodity service like that instead of a personalized service like I offer. It was like the difference between a fast food burger and filet mignon to our pool of potential clients.
I should also mention that Rafiel is also, my very very ex-boyfriend. But even as insufferable as he has become, he has still come through for me in a couple literally life and death situations, so I owe him. I exhaled then grinned as I said, “Got Buttercup with me now. Meet you at the drop.”
I hung up before the man could say anything. I didn't need to hear it, as it was bound to be one of two things, either something snarky or something charming. He'd been trying to win me back to his bed since I dumped him when I caught him cheating on me, or at the very least, get me to sign on to his dog walking empire. Well, that is until he met my cousin Polly.
I stood and looked at the fuzzy ones and prompted them with a grin, “Let's get going kids.” Then I squeaked in distress as I looked at all the dirt on my white sundress. By the seven canine lords of Nebula B, it was going to take a miracle to get the grime off of it. I double squeaked when I saw that same dirt and mud on my white flats.
I dusted off my skirt and made a pouty face at it, I'm sure it understood. Then we headed deeper into Central Park to 'the drop.' The place I first met Raife, the row of benches by the tunnel under East Drive near the Balto dog statue in the park.
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As we sat, I asked Calvin as I nodded encouragement, “So what did you think of my dive? Pretty awesome, right?” He just cocked his head at me, tongue lolling to the side in a silly doggy grin. He didn't look impressed. Do you think he looked impressed? I muttered, “Fine, yours was more graceful, I may have gleeped when I followed. Show off.”
I scritched his ears, then he went back to licking the poor Chihuahua who looked mortified, and now wet. I grinned at her and advised in a mock chastising tone, “Consider it punishment for your third escape in as many months girlie.” Then I gave her a good scratching behind the ear which had one of her tiny hind legs scratching at the air. Ooo I found the magic spot on her, all dogs have one somewhere.
After twenty minutes had passed I was getting antsy, I wanted to get home to start making the meatloaf I had planned for dinner tonight. Jane liked meatloaf, heck she liked meat, she was such a guy.
Finally, I saw Raife walking through the tunnel toward us on the path, Izzy was following along in his wake. Ah, that explained why it took so long. He meant to make her feel worse about losing the little escape artist. If she looked bad, then Rafiel's Canine Walkers looked bad.
I had other ideas, though. Rather than shame someone into being more careful, I preferred to educate. You can get more done with kindness. The white-haired Hispanic girl who looked barely nineteen to me, looked sheepish as I stood and waved from my hip at her. She waved back, not meeting my eyes, a leash with a little empty collar hanging from it swung from her other hand as they walked.
Before Raife could say a thing, I crouched and started taking the harness off the chihuahua as I laid some walkin' knowledge on the young gal. “Hi Iz. If you plan on being in the dog walking business long, you might invest in a few harnesses. Not only are they more humane for controlling your clients, but smaller dogs like Buttercup here, whose heads are really no bigger than their necks, can slip a collar in no time flat.”
I gave her a smile as I handed her the moist and chagrined wiggling pup. “And it virtually eliminates the necessity to call a Broken Leash, except for pull-aways, so you don't have to be chastised by Italian megalomaniacs.”
She had to cover her mouth to hide her smile as Raife groused out, “Hey, I'm not a megalo...” He trailed off when he realized I was just tugging his leash. Some boys be slow. He started to smirk in appreciation I was starting to put my bad feelings for him aside and felt comfortable enough to rib him.
Then his smirk left him as he realized that any admonishment he was going to embarrass the poor girl with about losing a dog, had just been blunted. And I squinted one eye in pain but with no apology as I offered... again, “You know Raife, if you truly want your enterprise to rise above the other commodity walking services out there, you really need to invest in the equipment and training for your walkers to do their jobs properly.”
Before he could respond I held a hand up to stop him and just expounded upon my words. “You can't treat these walkers like independents and expect them to supply their own gear. Otherwise you really aren't offering them much more than simple contacts, like they are just subcontractors.”
I cocked my head as I thought out loud, “If you really want to give them something of value, so you don't have a revolving door of workers, then you need to start treating it like a business with employees. Give them a point of difference, a reason to stay with your network. And the dog owners will see that professionalism and consistency too. It will boost their confidence in leaving their furry babies in the hands of your walkers.”
To his credit, he looked to be actually listening and contemplating my words this time, then the man gave me one of his winning smiles. I was happy to note that they were no longer my kryptonite as my legs didn't turn to jelly. I appreciated that he was still a really... really pretty man, but my heart was in the hands of someone else now.
I had, in a moment of weakness, recommended my cousin, Polly, when he asked who wrote my contracts since he wanted to use something better than the boilerplate one he found online a couple years back. Pollyanna had displayed an interest in him when they met after I was kidnapped this summer. Imagine my shock, surprise, and borderline horror when they had started dating. But my panic for my favorite cousin was rapidly replaced with amusement when I found that she didn't put up with his crap and had tamed the wild Raife.
He asked as Izzy finished clipping up Buttercup, “You sure I can't convince you to...”
I shook my head and affirmed, “No... I'm not joining your network. I'll always be an independent.”
He nodded and shrugged. “Didn't think so. Was worth a try.”
Then he added, almost grudgingly, “Thanks Fin.” He nudged his chin toward the jailbreaking pup. I just nodded, then he started leading Izzy off like a perturbed boss.
Izzy looked back to give me a smile and an embarrassed wave, I grinned back, then stifled a laugh when all Rafiel could muster in admonishment for the girl was, “Umm... What she said. Now get Buttercup home before Mrs. Harris gets home and wonders where her baby is.”
When she glanced back again, I made a show of slipping my hand through the loop on Calvin's leash and tugged it to show it prevented a pull-away. I had to grin when she turned back, absently slipping her hand through Buttercup's leash. I grinned in pride. Now all she needed were some harnesses and that girl would rule the commodity walkers.
I looked down at my fuzzy lieutenant as I dropped his leash. “Great job today, Cal. You were awesome. Shall we get home? We only have a couple hours now to prepare and cook the meatloaf before Jane gets home.”
He cocked his head like he always did when he was trying to figure out what I was saying, his tongue lolling out cutely. This was just great fun for him.
Then I looked down at my dress and shoes and winced as we started walking toward home. I shared in dejection, “I don't know if I can get these stains out.” This was my favorite white sundress. Yes, I have more than one white sundress, thank you very much. Backups. Hey, don't look at me like that, I'm sure you have your own quirks too.
We hadn't taken ten steps, as I absently reached down to grab Calvin's leash as we went along when we heard a bark. We stopped, and I looked back to see a dirty and wet Golden Retriever under the bridge on the path. His body language was playful, and he looked happy to see Calvin.
I looked around for his owner. We had leash laws in the city, but the foot and mounted patrols in the park were pretty lax about it, letting people play fetch or frisbee with their dogs. But there wasn't anyone around him.
Oh no, another Broken Leash?
I called out as we approached him. He looked a little skittish as we got close and I winced at how emaciated he looked. Was he a stray? If people reported him, Animal Control would come and cart him away to doggie jail. I couldn't have that... I ran a dog rescue on the other side of the park as a nonprofit. Some of Calvin's trust fund from his prior deceased owner funded it.
There was some silvering around the dogs muzzle indicative of an older dog, but he was still agile and alert, so had some good years left in him.
I dropped the leash and let Calvin go to him. They did the welcome dance, circling each other and getting a good sniff of each other's posteriors. Eww. But he kept dancing away from me when I got close, keeping just out of my reach. Ok, fine. But at least I could do something for the silly guy.
I reached into my shoulder bag and pulled out the treats I had for my furry clients and offered him one... he got close enough to sniff it, and he started drooling immediately but still kept his distance. I could work with that. Gain his trust. I placed a small handful of the liver snaps on the ground and moved off.
Calvin, being a boy, stole one for himself and danced off with a doggy grin at my look at him. Children. I smiled at the Goldie and said, “It's ok boy. You look half starved.”
The Golden Retriever just about dove on the little pile of treats once I backed off enough for him. He was acting like he hadn't eaten in
days and my heart was physically hurting. I dumped the rest of the treats for him and crouched to be on his level. He approached cautiously but stayed out of reach. Fine. I moved back, and he again dove on the treats, and in moments they were gone.
I looked around, I didn't have anything else to bribe him with. I could tell I was slowly gaining his trust. Wait, I still had a bit of ham sandwich from lunch that... the dog darted away, running north through the park at breakneck speeds, dashing my hopes of snagging him and bringing him to the rescue where he'd be well pampered and fed well.
I stood and blew an errant lock of hair from my eyes as I said, “Well, that could have gone better.” Calvin appeared to agree as he looked between the Goldie and me as it disappeared into Central Park. I sighed out, “Let's get home boy.”
He knew the word home, and he was off. Next thing I knew I was falling on my butt, just making sure the stains were well ground in. I started giggling in embarrassment. I guess I shouldn't have been standing on his leash huh? What? Shut up.
I fretted about my dress the whole way through the park. I would obsess about it until I had rescued it. It was just one of my few quirks. Jane would say OCD, but what does she know? She's just a jerk cop. My jerk cop. My sexy jerk cop. Ooo... things were warming up as I thought about her silky black hair and that cocky smile.
I was brought out of my fantasies as we approached West 59th, just about to leave the park when we heard paws clicking on pavement, coming fast toward us from behind. I turned to see the disheveled looking Goldie bounding toward us. He stopped just out of reach, and I saw a big, dirt-covered plastic bag, dangling from his mouth. He wiggled excitedly, dropped the bag, then bounded around it, his tail swishing as he barked once.
Case of the Gold Retriever Page 1