“I don’t see how that can happen in barely six weeks,” Kinney pressed.
“It can happen for the dog, I guarantee it. Can it happen for you? Are you ready to commit to becoming worthy of this dog’s respect?”
The heat rose in Kinney’s cheeks once more. When she saw Madison’s camera zooming in on her, she turned away.
James raised his hand. “I agree that this program is too short to turn things around, even when you’ve owned the dog for years. It takes time for bad habits to develop and it takes time to unravel them.”
Cori put her hands on her hips. “James, I’ve watched you and Rocky closely. He thinks you’re a pal and a playmate. But he doesn’t think you’re someone to look up to and respect.”
“Well, I’ve travelled a lot in the past year. He’s been with different caregivers.”
“Inconsistency isn’t good for a dog, granted,” Cori said. “But this is more about you wanting to be the good guy all the time. You’re like Rocky’s fun little brother instead of his leader.”
“That’s a bit harsh,” he said, still smiling.
“When you have an aggressive dog, you don’t need mollycoddling, you need truth. And the truth is you’re too worried about being liked to be firm with your dog.” Cori grinned at him. “It’s actually quite freeing to make your peace with being disliked sometimes.”
The mayor sprang up with ease from his miniature chair. “Wonderful, Miss Hudson. This is like therapy and dog training all in one. It’s gratifying to be able to provide this to our troubled citizens for free. Where do we go from here?”
Cori circulated with handouts. “Here’s the homework assignment. Next class we break into smaller groups and start exercises in the community.”
Kinney beat it to the door to avoid further contact with the mayor. Whiskey had other ideas, however. He pulled hard to the left so he could reach Mayor Bradshaw and stuck his long black nose where it didn’t belong.
The mayor literally jumped and gave a startled squawk. Kinney almost laughed, despite her embarrassment. Rarely did the mayor show any emotion, at least in public, but getting goosed was too much even for him.
“I’m so sorry, Mayor,” she said.
He brushed off his slacks with a look of supreme distaste. “I wish you the best, Miss Butterfield. You certainly have your work cut out for you.”
Chapter 10
The phone rang again and Kinney flinched. All morning she’d been sitting at the front desk of the CCD offices fielding Tattletail hotline calls about pressing issues like dogs tipping garbage, peeing on ornate bushes, and chasing neighborhood squirrels. Now she understood why Elsa had taken early retirement. It was difficult to be polite to irate citizens complaining about seemingly small issues. But she took a deep breath and smiled as she reached for the phone. Whatever the cost of redeeming herself and Whiskey, she was ready to pay it.
After recording the details of yet another poop infraction, she turned to see Cliff Whorley coming out of his office looking extra pompous. He clapped his beefy hands for attention and the staff gathered around him. Kinney took off her headset and stood, to look like a team player.
“I’ve just had an important call from the mayor’s office,” he said. “The CCD has been named honorary patron of the Fourth of July festival. As you know, this is the biggest civic event except Christmas, and they’ve trusted it to our hands. We have just over five weeks to pull things together, with the help of the City’s recreation committee. I need a crackerjack planner to grab the reins. Volunteers?”
Kinney’s hand shot up. “I’ll do it.”
Cliff’s mustache twitched disapprovingly. “Butterfield, I’ve never even seen you at a department party. What makes you the social butterfly today?”
“Recent events, sir. I guess I’ve been too focused on my job and need to get more involved with the department.” She offered a big, fake smile around the room. “This will give me a chance to get to know everyone better.”
He targeted Wyatt Cobb with a pointed stare, but Wyatt looked at the floor. Finally Cliff called, “Anyone else up for it?”
No one raised a hand. The so-called honor of organizing the endless Dorset Hills fetes was lost on most people, including Kinney. But the role would give her an excuse to get away from her desk. One morning tied to the phone was already suffocating her. A desk job had always seemed like a ball and chain. She needed to keep moving.
“Done,” Cliff said, still looking disgruntled. “Butterfield, present a business case by end of week. This event needs to be a feather in our cap.” He offered what passed for a grin. “No pressure.”
Kinney wasted no time in getting another clerk to cover for her and slipping out of the office. In the Prius, she opened the window and sucked in deep breaths, as if her head had been held under water too long. She was never going to make it out of the receptionist role alive.
Pulling up beside the old mansion that housed the Hospital Foundation, she waited till Remi Malone climbed in the car and settled Leo, the most loveable beagle in the world, into her lap. She rarely went anywhere without him. He was her canine shield against the world.
“What’s up?” Remi asked. “You said it was urgent.”
“It’s life or death,” Kinney said, grinning. “I just volunteered to organize the Fourth of July festival and you know I could not possibly care less about public gatherings. You, my friend, are the queen of Dog Town fetes.”
Remi’s hand instantly began stroking Leo’s silky ears, a sure sign she was stressed. “That’s the biggest event of the year, second to Christmas, Kinney. We only have five weeks.”
“You can do this in your sleep,” Kinney said. “Heck, Leo could do it in his sleep.”
Leo lolled his head back and looked at Kinney upside down. It was impossible to resist those eyes and those ears. She took one hand off the wheel and patted his head.
“Besides,” she added, “We have the City crew to back us. You’ll just be steering the show with me. Will you help?”
Remi stared at Kinney’s profile as she pulled out into noon traffic. “Only if you tell me what this is really about.”
Kinney sighed. Remi was getting a lot cagier. When they’d first met, the sweet, shy woman would say yes to almost any good cause, no strings attached. Now, she’d gotten wise from being exploited by the Rescue Mafia, where she typically got most of the grunge work and none of the credit.
“I’ve been assigned to desk duty,” Kinney said. “I need to earn my regular job back and it won’t be by manning the phones.”
“Organizing the Fourth of July event is going to win you your job back? Is it that important to Chief Whorley?”
They passed the bronze St. Bernard outside the hospital and turned right. “Not exactly. But this role gets me out of the office, where I can find opportunities to do things that actually matter. You know, like saving dogs’ lives.”
“That’s kind of random. It means being in the right place at the right time.” She shifted Leo into full-on baby position. “What else aren’t you telling me?”
Glancing at her, Kinney said, “You didn’t used to ask so many questions.”
“My nerves couldn’t take the shock of some of the situations I was pulled into. I love helping a good cause, you know that. I’d just like a decent heads-up.”
“Fair enough.” She turned again at the Dalmatian outside the fire station. Today the bronze was wearing a helmet. Sometimes it was draped in a firehose. The firefighters tried to keep things light. “So here goes: I got a tip from Evie about a possible cover-up in the mayor’s office. I’d like to look into it but it’s nearly impossible when I’m tied to a desk nine to five and have Miracle Makeover training classes and homework. I need an excuse to get out and investigate, and I need more hands.”
Now they were in Riverdale, one of the most popular neighborhoods in Dorset Hills for the “new guard.” The people who’d flooded into the city after it became famous had bought into Dog Town branding
hook, line and sinker. Nearly every house was decorated according to the City’s rules, with appropriate seasonal decorations. Right now, most people only had tasteful dog sculptures made of twisted brown vines or metal. In just a few weeks, however, the gardens with matching flowers in approved colors would be in full bloom.
“Where are we going?” Remi asked, still not confirming her buy-in. “This doesn’t feel like a party planning expedition.”
“It is, I promise,” Kinney said. “The key is to combine party planning with detective work. We can do this.”
Remi finally laughed. “Why am I always getting dragged into Rescue Mafia work when I can’t even get full acceptance into the group?”
“I don’t have my gang colors either,” Kinney said. “And technically, it’s not a Mafia project yet. Cori and Bridget are aware of the situation but I have details they don’t.” She turned down a side street where properties were larger and the houses older. “Thank god being tied to the front desk doesn’t stop me from accessing CCD technology.”
“At least tell me the so-called crime before we get to wherever we’re going,” Remi said.
“The mayor told Evie about some stolen purebred puppies and then denied all knowledge of it later. He blamed it on Evie’s concussion, and she had doubts herself. But I found records on our system of cases being opened and closed at the exact time and with the exact breeders Evie mentioned. But when I click on them, access is denied.”
“That is weird,” Remi said. “Definitely worth poking around.” She adjusted Leo’s position. “But let me get this straight: your goal is to solve the problem of the missing puppies and win your way back into CCD favor?”
“Exactly.”
“Even though the CCD apparently wants the cases closed?”
Kinney waved her fingers dismissively. “Everyone wants the truth exposed, don’t they?”
“In Dog Town? Hardly. Seems to me that digging into this problem might just get you demoted into the dumpster. Do you have a death wish?”
“Some have said so, yes. My mom always called me a thrill seeker.”
Kinney fell silent as they wove through the twisty streets. Her mom was a helicopter parent before that was even a thing. Her efforts to micromanage her three kids had produced one dutiful daughter who stayed close to home, married and reproduced early and had dinner with her parents twice a week. The other two kids, Kinney and her brother, had been lifelong rebels. Once she graduated from her psychology studies, she put the continent between her and her hometown of Seattle. Since moving to Dorset Hills, she’d only been home once for Thanksgiving, just to get a reminder of why she’d moved in the first place. Her mother couldn’t wrap her head around the concept of Dog Town and lamented how Kinney had “squandered her looks and talent on dogs.”
Pushing the memories away, she pulled up in front of a large, old house and put the car in park. “Here’s the thing, Remi. Once I know something’s rotten, I can’t not smell the decay. Sometimes I wish I could. So I need to get to the bottom of this, even if it gets me in hotter water.” She took the keys out of the ignition and jingled them. “I still want to believe that good triumphs in the end.”
Remi sighed and hugged Leo closer. “Me too. So count me in.”
“Just follow my lead and play along, okay?” Kinney said, getting out of the car.
“Got it. Can Leo come in?”
“Definitely. He actually has a key role in softening up our source.”
They went up the walk and Kinney knocked on the red front door. There was a cacophony of barking behind it, and finally it cracked open a few inches. All Kinney could see was a dark eye, corkscrew curls and a blue and black lumberjacket.
Leann Cosburn cursed and tried to slam the door, but Kinney wedged her steel-toed boot into the opening. “Leann, relax. I’m not here in my dog cop capacity. In fact, I don’t have dog cop capacity anymore. I was demoted to reception.”
The door opened a few more inches and Leann’s skeptical face appeared in full. “Well, that’s good news, but I doubt you drove all the way out here to tell me that.”
“True. I came with a rather large favor to ask. Although it will actually end up doing you a lot of good, too, if you say yes.”
Now the door swung wide open and Kinney could see a pack of hounds held back by a baby gate. That didn’t shut off the noise though. They howled when the door opened and escalated when they saw Leo. He turned in Remi’s arms with a low whine, and then collapsed in dramatic defeat.
“That’s one lazy hound,” Leann said, shaking her head. But her hand reached out involuntarily, proving as always that no one could resist Leo.
“Right?” Remi said. “I used to think he had lapdog genes but I had him tested. All beagle.”
Leann smiled despite herself. “You’re Remi Malone, right? I’ve seen you and Leo at hospital fundraisers.”
Remi nodded. “I’m just out with Kinney today because she’s starting to coordinate the Fourth of July festival.”
“Man, it seems like we just got through the last one.” Leann’s arms came out to welcome Leo. “This isn’t a typical beagle. I have 15 of them, so I should know.”
“He may be the only service beagle in town,” Remi said. “I got so lucky when I rescued him.”
Kinney cleared her throat. “When you two are finished bonding over hounds, can I get to my favor, Leann?”
Leaning against the doorframe cradling Leo, the dog breeder nodded. “Shoot. But make it fast. I have contractors working out back and I don’t trust them not to let a dog escape.”
“Like Remi said, it’s about the Fourth of July,” Kinney began. “My idea for this year’s theme is to showcase local dog breeders. We’d give the top breeders a booth so that they could share information with the public.”
“I love that idea,” Remi said. Her enthusiasm was genuine and contagious. “Of course you’d be the beagle expert, Leann. Everyone knows your hounds are prizewinners.”
Leann kept her eyes on Leo. “It’s not always good to stand out in Dog Town, in my experience. No attention comes without risk.”
“I know what you mean,” Kinney said. “I heard you lost a pup six weeks ago.”
Leann looked up quickly, eyes wide. “Who said that?”
“Dog cops hear things. You know how it is.”
Now Leann stood fully upright and Leo squirmed in her arms, trying to lick her face. As always, he sensed when someone was stressed. “Then I’m sure you know I got the pup back. And I never said another word about it, just like I—”
She stopped abruptly and her face turned a mottled pink.
“It’s okay, I understand everything,” Kinney said. “Are you going to invite us in? So we can talk more about the Fourth of July?”
Leann’s head snapped back and forth and she passed Leo to Remi. “I’m happy to do whatever you need. Just like I always cooperate. But I don’t want any more disruptions today.”
“No problem,” Kinney said. “I’ll be in touch with more details about the breeder showcase. Thanks so much for participating, Leann.”
The door slammed shut and they went back down the walk.
“Was that weird or what?” Remi asked.
“It was weird all right,” Kinney said, once they were seated in the car. “I’m just going to check something. Let me pull ahead a bit and then I’ll go back for a quick look.”
She parked half a block away and left Remi and Leo in the car. Jogging back, she slipped down between the houses. It was easy enough to climb onto Leann’s air conditioner to peek into the backyard. She’d expected fairly major work with all the banging and sawing, but the magnitude of it still took her by surprise. The building in progress looked like a mid-sized indoor kennel. A very tall construction worker with flaming red hair sticking out from his helmet looked up just as she ducked. She’d seen him at Runaway Farm before. Good tradespeople got around, apparently.
Jumping down, she ran back to the car, thinking hard and saying
nothing till they’d turned off the street.
“What’d you see?” Remi finally asked.
“Leann’s building a kennel out back,” Kinney said. “I checked her profile this morning and there were complaints on record about the state of her facility. She’d submitted letters and records attesting to the fact that she wasn’t making enough from her breeding program to upgrade as the city requested.”
“So she won a lottery?” Remi asked.
“Either that, or someone paid her a hefty price to keep quiet about the stolen pup.”
“Ah, so now the plot thickens,” Remi said. “And it’ll build to fireworks by the fourth, I reckon.”
Kinney shrugged and then nodded. “Cover your ears, partner.”
Chapter 11
The muffled thud of clapping gloves brought Kinney out of her trance. She was sitting on the dingy tile floor of the church basement stroking Whiskey’s ears. He was lying beside her, watching all the other dogs and showing none of the signs of aggression Cori had written on the whiteboard at the front of the room: stiff posture, fixed stare, ears forward, hackles up, tail erect and wagging slowly. Apparently, she needed to learn to read dog and speak dog if she wanted to help Whiskey over his trauma and prevent reactive behavior.
“Kinney, off the floor,” Cori said, trying to snap gloved fingers. “Are you this dog’s pal or its leader?”
“Can’t I be both?” She scrambled to her feet. “I’m trying to build a bond with him.”
“That’s not how you do it.” Cori came over and managed to loom over Kinney despite being six inches shorter. “You don’t roll around, snuggle and coo with a dog that doesn’t respect you. You stand tall, you exude confidence, and you never ask the dog to do you the favor of obeying. You expect obedience just because you’re worthy.”
“But he barely knows me. How is he going to know I’m worthy?”
Bold and Blue in Dog Town: (Dog Town 9) Page 8