by JB Lynn
Pursing her lips, a lot like Aunt Susan does when she’s making a decision, Marlene considered my request. “I’ll try,” she finally said grudgingly.
Flashing her a genuine smile, I promised, “Thanks. I’ll ask the same of Susan.”
Marlene rolled her eyes. “Yeah, like she’ll listen to you.”
“Maybe you’ll be pleasantly surprised.”
“And maybe Mom will get released from the nut house tomorrow.”
I recognized the bitterness in her tone. I’d often felt the same way. “Have you seen her lately?”
“No.” She cocked her head to the side and regarded me curiously. “Have you?”
“She attended Alice’s wedding and I’ve visited a couple of times since.”
“You’re kidding.”
I shook my head. “She’s better than she was. If you want, you can come with me the next time I visit.”
She shook her head.
I shrugged. “Okay, if you change your mind, the offer stands.”
Something tickled my lower legs. I looked down and saw Piss, the cat, wrapping herself around them.
Looking up at me, she meowed, “Hey there, Sugar.”
“Such a pretty kitty.” Marlene’s face brightened as she bent to pet the one-eyed, half-her-ear missing cat.
“Bless her heart. Is she blind?” Piss asked, hiding behind me.
“What’s his name?” Marlene asked.
“Her,” I corrected mildly.
“What’s her name?”
“That’s the million-dollar question.” So far the cat had refused to tell me her name. I looked down at Piss expectantly, hoping she’d fill in the blank.
She stayed as silent as the Sphinx, but moved forward so Marlene could stroke her.
“The vet I got her from called her Piss,” I told Marlene. “So until a better name is offered up, that’s what we’re calling her.”
A genuine chuckle, a sound I hadn’t heard in forever, escaped my sister’s lips and suddenly I didn’t feel quite so tired.
“Pleased to meet you, Miss Piss,” Marlene said, rubbing the spot behind our feline companion’s good ear.
“Truly my pleasure”.” Piss purred happily.
“She likes you,” I told Marlene.
“At least somebody does,” she muttered.
“Hey,” I said, crouching down so I was eye-level with her. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing.”
A twinge of guilt twisted my gut. “I’m sorry if I’ve been a bit distracted, but I’m really glad you’re back.”
Marlene shook her head. “Between playing peacemaker, your job, and taking care of Katie, it’s a miracle you have time to sleep. You’re practically Superwoman.”
I wondered if she’d think the same thing if she knew I moonlighted as a sometime-assassin and I’d been blackmailed by a shadowy organization to find a missing dog. I didn’t ask.
Instead I said, “Susan, Loretta, and Leslie have been a huge help with Katie.”
“They always did have a soft spot for orphans,” Marlene murmured.
I nodded sadly. Even though we weren’t technically orphans, with a mother with mental health issues and a conman/thief for a father, we’d often felt like we were.
“It must run in the family,” Marlene said.
“What do you mean?”
“Well, you’ve got Katie, Miss Piss here, the dog, and the lizard. You’re running your own mini-orphanage.”
“She has a point,” the cat meowed.
“If you break into song and start belting out ‘It’s a Hard Knock Life,’ I’m disowning you,” I joked, slowly getting to my feet.
“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Marlene said, thinking I’d been talking to her, when in reality, the threat had been aimed at Piss.
The cat narrowed her good eye at me. “Have you ever heard a cat sing?”
I shook my head.
“Consider yourself lucky.”
Chapter Five
Lucky is not something I consider myself, so later when I was walking DeeDee after dinner and a strange woman approached me carrying a leash, but no dog, I wasn’t surprised she knew my name.
“You must be Maggie,” the woman said as she drew within earshot. She stopped a few paces away, eyeing DeeDee nervously.
I considered telling her she was mistaken, but I wasn’t sure how Ms. Whitehat would respond. “I didn’t catch your name.”
“Candace.”
“Nice to meet you, Candace. This is DeeDee.”
“Hi!” the Doberman barked.
Poor Candace flinched at the greeting. “Is she dangerous?”
Considering DeeDee had twice attacked armed men who were after me, I couldn’t in good conscious say that she wasn’t dangerous. Realizing I momentarily had the upper-hand with Whitehat’s cohort, I said with a satisfied smile, “Only when I need her to be.”
The poor woman paled and I was pretty sure I saw the leash, clutched in her white-knuckled grip, shake. While she watched the dog, I took a moment to look her over.
If I had to guess, I’d say she was in her mid-twenties, but it was hard to tell since she sported an oversized pink baseball cap proclaiming, “Life is a Work in Progress” that obscured most of her face. Her cotton candy gingham capris and a matching embroidered flowery tee practically screamed “cute.”
As a rule, I’m not a fan of cute.
I’m even less of a fan of cute and terrified.
Taking pity on my new partner, I assured her. “She won’t hurt you.”
Her gaze flitted from the dog’s “grinning” countenance, which I must admit, is a bit frightening with all her shiny teeth, to my face, Candace said, “Are you sure?”
“Positive. You’re not much of a dog person, are you?”
She shook her head.
“And yet you’re supposed to help me find this missing dog?”
“You’re supposed to help me,” she corrected distractedly, watching carefully as DeeDee stalked a nearby squirrel.
“Don’t you dare,” I said.
I was talking to the dog, not wanting her to yank me off my feet by lunging at the bushy-tailed rat.
Unfortunately, Candace misunderstood. “Don’t what? Do you have a problem with my being in charge of this investigation?”
The sharpness of her tone caught DeeDee’s attention. “Trouble in?” she whined worriedly.
Candace took a step back. Then another.
“No,” I said simply, answering them both.
Both the dog and my new partner looked at me worriedly.
I took a deep breath, mentally counted to ten, and then asked Candace, “Is that the missing dog’s leash?”
“Dog miss?” DeeDee panted worriedly.
“No,” Candace said. “I just thought it would be a good idea to have one.”
“Is it wearing a collar?” I asked. “Because a leash without a collar isn’t going to do you much good.”
“Oh,” Candace said, examining the leash. “They’re not one piece?”
I rolled my eyes. “You’re really not a dog person.”
“My sister is allergic,” she replied defensively.
“So where do you want to start looking?” I asked.
“Bunny!” DeeDee barked excitedly, leaping toward the hapless rabbit who’d crossed out path.
“No!” I screamed, fighting desperately to hang on to the leash and stay on my feet.
“Bunny!” DeeDee insisted, pulling harder.
“Stop!” I shouted. “Bad dog!”
The bad dog came out more like bad mmmph as I fell face-first onto the ground. In a last-ditch attempt to keep my nose from ending up like that of a pro boxer, I let go of the leash to protect my face.
If you’re keeping track, that means I didn’t hang on to the leash or stay on my feet.
The terrified rabbit took off with the excited dog following closely behind.
I just lay on the ground for a long moment, trying to
catch my breath, grateful I’d landed on grass instead of concrete.
“Are you okay?”
I twisted my head to find Candace in all her pink cuteness, staring at me with a mixture of concern and horror.
“Do you want me to call an ambulance for you?”
Rolling over onto my back, I shook my head. “I’m fine.”
Crouching down beside me, she whispered, “You don’t look fine.”
A painful chuckle escaped me. My ribs felt bruised from the impact, I’d scraped my knees like a little girl, and I was sprawled out in an undignified heap. Candace was no doubt being kind when she said I didn’t look fine.
“Give me a hand?” I asked, raising my arms like a mummy sitting up in its tomb.
Standing, Candace dropped the leash on the ground, grabbed my hands and said, “On the count of three. One. Two. Three.”
Yanking hard, she pulled me to my feet. She was surprisingly strong for a girl dressed in pink from head to toe.
“Thanks,” I muttered, bending over to brush bits of dirt and grass from my own clothes.
“Are you sure you’re okay?”
Glancing up, I saw concern and a hint of amusement sparkling in her gaze.
“Only my ego is bruised,” I told her. “I must have looked like something straight out of a cartoon.”
Bending to scoop the leash off the ground, she hid her face as she affirmed, “A bit. Yes. But in your defense, the dog really wanted that rabbit. Do you think she’ll eat it?”
I shook my head, staring off in the direction DeeDee had disappeared. “I don’t think she’ll catch it. I’m more concerned that she won’t find her way home.”
“We could look for her if you want.”
The offer, which sounded genuine, surprised me.
“I’ve got a leash.” She dangled it in front of me.
The idea of walking my seventy-five Doberman on the tiny leash made me smile. “You could walk her, if you want the practice.”
Candace shook her head. “Our target weighs ten pounds. Your beast is a monster.”
“Don’t let her hear you call her that.” I started to walk in the direction the Doberman had disappeared.
Ms. Pink Gingham fell into step beside me.
“Does our target have a name?”
“Ghost. That’s a weird name for a dog, don’t you think?”
I shrugged. DeeDee’s real name is Doomsday, so to me Ghost doesn’t seem all that odd.
Then again I talk to animals and kill people for money….so perhaps my view of the world is a bit skewed.
Candace and I didn’t find DeeDee, but we came up with a plan to track down Ghost. First thing in the morning, we’d meet up at the spot he’d last been spotted and then head out from there.
When I got home, DeeDee was engaged in a game of fetch with Aunt Susan.
“Maggie!” she barked excitedly as though the last place she ever expected to see me was where I live.
“Bad dog,” I scolded half-heartedly.
She hung her head. “Sorry,” she whined softly.
“What happened?” Aunt Susan asked.
“She saw a rabbit and took off.”
Picking up the ball Susan had thrown to her, DeeDee, not quite making eye contact, trotted over and dropped it at my feet like it was the equivalent of a sacrificial lamb.
Unable to stay angry with her when she looked so forlorn, I threw the ball for her. She bounded after it as though she’d been offered a reprieve from an angry god.
“Thank you,” Aunt Susan said, watching the progress of the dog intently.
“For letting the dog off the hook?” I asked, confused.
“For talking to Marlene. She was less surly when she came down to get a glass of milk… and she didn’t drink from the bottle. I’m sure that’s your influence.”
Swallowing a smile, I nodded. “This is hard for her too.”
“I know.” Susan took the saliva-covered ball DeeDee offered her and threw it across the yard, before wiping her palm on her pant leg. “Have you given any more thought to Bob’s sister’s offer?”
I stared at her blankly.
“Bob’s sister. The one who offered you a job.”
“In real estate,” I said hurriedly, not wanting her to think that I’d totally forgotten the proposition her boyfriend’s sister had floated. “I keep meaning to give her a call.” That of course was a lie, what with the whole already having a job, and a side job as a sometime career as a paid assassin, and now, thanks to Ms. Whitehat’s shadowy organization, I was going to add dog catcher to my resume.
“You should call her,” Susan suggested gently. “Katie’s doing better every day and it’s only a matter of time until the doctors say she can go home. I’d imagine that the real estate schedule would be more conducive to you being a parent.”
I stared at her, horrified. I didn’t know the first thing about raising a kid. I couldn’t even walk my dog without losing her. I wanted to scream, “I’m not a parent.”
As though she could read my thoughts, Susan assured me. “You won’t be alone in this, Margaret. Chin up.”
Nodding dumbly, I stumbled toward the house. DeeDee abandoned her game to trot behind me like a well-trained dog. She sneezed.
I glanced back at her. “You really are sick, aren’t you?”
“Cold,” she sniffed.
“Hey, Sugar,” Piss purred, appearing out of nowhere to weave between my legs. “Looks like you’re having a tough time.”
Bending to scratch the spot behind the cat’s good ear, I whispered, “You have no idea.”
“Sorry DeeDee,” the dog panted.
“It’s not you,” I told the dog.
Reassured, her ears, which had been flat against her head, sprang up, signaling her usually joyful personality.
“If you walk in there without something for His Royal Highness, King Pain in the Rear, to sleep in, you’ll never hear the end of it,” Piss warned.
“Oh,” I said. A surge of relief that at least I’d done something right lightened my mood.
I grabbed the glass enclosure I’d picked up for God at the pet store, stuffed it in an oversized Insuring the Future tote bag the company handed out at every quarterly event, and headed inside with some bounce to my step.
Aunt Susan, who was still in the yard, pulling weeds that no one else would see, shouted, “Dinner in fifteen minutes. See if you can coax your sister to join us. I made orange pork chops.”
“I’ll try.” I hurried into the B&B and practically skipped down the stairs to the basement. “Guess what I got you,” I called as the dog, pushed past me, beating me to the bottom. “You’ve got somewhere to sleep tonight.”
“That sounds intriguing,” a male voice murmured suggestively.
Startled, I almost dropped the tote bag as my heartbeat spluttered.
I probably would have screamed if DeeDee hadn’t barked, “Patrick!”
“You shouldn’t do that,” I told the handsome hitman/cop leaning in a corner, arms crossed his chest.
“Shouldn’t look for a place to sleep?”
“Save me,” God drawled in his most superior tone from whatever corner he was lurking in. “They’re back to the witty banter phase.”
The way the lizard said it made me think he didn’t think we were the slightest bit witty.
“Patrick!” DeeDee woofed, charging the redhead.
“Sit!” Patrick ordered in a voice that was barely more than a whisper, but in a tone that had the dog plopping her butt down posthaste.
“Trouble in?” DeeDee panted worriedly, cocking her head to the side to look at the man who usually came bearing food treats.
“You’re a good girl,” Patrick assured, stepping forward to rub the spot between her eyes. “I just can’t get dog hair on me.”
It was then that I realized he was wearing black pants, a crisp white dress shirt, and an emerald tie that did amazing things for his eyes.
“What’s the occasion?�
� I asked.
“I’m being honored as a hero cop.” He didn’t sound happy about it. “I get to have a rubber chicken dinner, shake some hands, get my picture taken, and have my face plastered all over the papers again.”
Not sure how to respond, I said weakly. “I’m sorry?”
“Thanks.” He shook his head. “I never appreciated that old saying, ‘No good deed goes unpunished’ until this fiasco. Being so recognizable is making my extra-curricular activities more challenging.”
“I actually don’t know what the good deed was,” I admitted. The first time we’d met, Armani had recognized him as the hero cop, but I’d had no idea who he was.
A bemused smile tugged at the corners of his lips. “I thought everyone knew.”
“I’m sort of missing a block of time around the accident.” After the car accident that killed my sister Teresa and her husband, left Katie in a coma, and resulted in my being able to talk to animals, I’d sort of lost track of the world around me for a bit.
Sympathy softened Patrick’s gaze. Sitting down on the couch, he patted the seat beside him, an invitation I was only too happy to accept.
I put the bag with the glass container down on the table and plopped down next to him. DeeDee quickly lay at our feet.
He’d recently shaved and I caught a whiff of his aftershave, something clean with a note of citrus.
He leaned into me, pressing his shoulder to mine. He felt warm and solid, and for the first time that day, I relaxed.
“Once upon a time, in a land far, far away,” he began.
“There lived a fair maiden?” I supplied helpfully.
He shook his head.
“A handsome red-headed knight on a great quest?”
“Much better.” He pressed a quick kiss to my forehead, signaling his approval. “There lived a monstrous scumbucket.”
“Oh no!” I gasped dramatically, covering my tender heart with my hand. “This is a very scary story.”
Playing along, Patrick wrapped an arm around my shoulders and pulled me closer to him.
“I’m in desperate need a barf bag,” God muttered.
Ignoring the lizard and resting my head against Patrick’s chest, I listened to the steady, reassuring beat of his heart while he continued his story.