Bold and Blue in Dog Town: (Dog Town 9)

by Sandy Rideout

  “Wowza,” Evie said. “Cute, right? He looks familiar.”

  “It’s the contractor who’s been working at Runaway Farm,” Kinney said. “I saw him at Leann Cosburn’s place as well. He sure gets around.”

  “The hot ones always do,” Evie sighed. “Although I’ve never fancied gingers. Being a ginger, and all. There’d be no surprises with the kids.”

  Kinney pulled her away. “Let’s not ogle construction guys who are working on illicit kennels.”

  “These guys may not know they’re illicit,” Cori said. “Not that I’m condoning ogling.” She continued to watch nonetheless. Turning to catch Kinney’s eye she said, “What? I’m human. And single, last time I checked.”

  Evie shrugged as they walked back to the van. “They would have signed nondisclosure agreements for their plum government contract. Let Bridget set you up with someone better, Cori.”

  Cori rolled her eyes. “I take all that back. I’m not human after all.”

  Chapter 16

  The hills had been slow to green up that spring, but now, as June grew confident, vast stretches of long grass and wildflowers flanked the path in the hills above town. The 10 women stretched their legs and shook off the morning’s adventure. Thoughtful as always, Remi pulled a container of cookies out of her backpack and passed them around. Then she offered apples.

  For a while they munched in silence, digesting what they’d seen. The fresh air and sugar revived them before too long.

  Duff stared around and sighed. “If it weren’t for the hills, we probably would have given up on this place long ago. I couldn’t handle the toxicity without coming here to recover.”

  Remi smiled as Leo raced after Beau. The tall black dog rarely left Bridget’s side unless she commanded him to lighten up and run on the trails. Beau slowed to let Leo catch up and then sprinted off again. As they were often together on various adventures, the dogs had become old pals. At least, off duty. On duty, they ignored each other.

  “That reminds me of when we brought Isla McInnis here years ago,” Remi said. “She said the air’s like champagne. You sip and savor it.”

  “Who’s Isla?” Evie asked. “The name sounds familiar.”

  “The brains behind Dog Town,” Cori said. Her expression suggested the champagne had soured in her mouth. “She came here maybe eleven years ago to rescue a dog, and then wrote that famous article about how this is the best place for dogs and dog lovers in North America. It went to City Council’s head like cheap bubbly and suddenly Dog Town was born.”

  “Isla meant well,” Remi said. “She really loved it here. I was surprised she didn’t move back.”

  “I think she was embarrassed over what happened to the city,” Bridget said. “She dreamed of it becoming a fairy-tale destination, and the politicians turned it into a cartoon.” She shrugged. “At least, that’s what she said to me.”

  “You guys keep in touch?” Kinney asked. “I didn’t know she was aware of what’s happened here.”

  “She knows,” Bridget said, with a grim smile. “I keep her posted whether she wants me to or not.”

  “I liked her.” Remi stooped to pick some wildflowers. “We should get her back here to write another piece.”

  “I keep asking her to do an exposé, but she won’t take the bait,” Bridget said.

  “Maybe puppy-gate will change her mind,” Kinney said. “If we’re right that the City is stealing puppies for a secret plan, it’s big news—even if they made reparations.”

  Arianna had been quiet for most of the walk. Normally she was the embodiment of champagne—bubbly and upbeat. No doubt the mystery of the missing puppies weighed more heavily on a breeder than anyone else.

  “Why on earth are they building large kennels?” she asked, at last. “When we were lobbying and consulting at City Hall, it was all about keeping kennels small and numbers down. You practically had to promise your first child to get a permit to expand.”

  “Or promise your best puppy,” Kinney said.

  “But no one is even living in the houses that front these operations,” Ari said. “Who exactly is benefiting?”

  “That one’s easy,” Evie said. “The City is benefiting somehow. My first thought was that they were building facilities for government-run puppy mills. With the cream of the crop breeding stock.”

  Ari’s bright cheeks paled and her mouth dropped open for a second. “Are you saying they’re stealing our dogs to warehouse them at these sites?”

  Evie shrugged. “Just guessing. Getting control of the Dog Town breeding brand would be quite a feat. I could see Mayor Bradshaw wanting to pick and choose the breeds that make Dog Town famous.”

  “Which explains why his lackeys wouldn’t steal my downscale hybrids.” Ari’s wide blue eyes had narrowed to slits and though she still looked angelic, she seemed more likely to smite than bless. “If anyone takes one of my puppies, there will be hell to pay.”

  “Which is exactly why your dogs have been spared,” Kinney said. “They know about your relationship with the Mafia. We have your back, you know that.”

  Ari couldn’t force a smile. “I get queasy when I think of someone tampering with my puppies—and my bloodlines. Some may think breeding hybrids is random luck, but I invest tens of thousands each year to get the best breeding stock and then I test the heck out of them to make sure they’re sound in health and temperament.” Remi tried to hand Ari some flowers in lieu of the therapy beagle but Ari waved them away. “If they’re intending to breed these stolen pups, they could make terrible mistakes with genetics.”

  “Sick puppies and heartbroken owners won’t do much for the Dog Town brand,” Kinney said. “That will backfire on Mayor Bradshaw.”

  “Agreed,” Evie said. “If this is what he’s up to, he’s getting bad advice. Ill-informed advice.”

  Dropping the flowers, Remi started wringing her hands. “My heart hurts at the thought of these little puppies stuck in kennels without loving owners.”

  Kinney leaned down and caught Leo with both hands like a football as he shot past. He was still struggling as she passed him to Remi, but settled instantly when he was in her arms. Her eyes had filled with tears, but thanks to Leo, they didn’t spill over.

  Cori had been suspiciously silent through the debate, striding ahead but still in earshot. Finally she circled back. “It’s all weird. The mayor is obviously up to something but he’s fooled us before. I’m still mad about Runaway Farm.”

  “He’s getting more slippery,” Bridget said. “I think we need to observe very carefully before doing or saying anything.”

  “I don’t want to watch and wait,” Kinney said. “I want to throw a grenade and blow the plan up.”

  Everyone laughed, including Cori. “That sounds more like me,” she said. “Usually you’re all about stealth and proper pacing.”

  “I guess I’m just… what’s the opposite of champagne?”

  “Bitters,” Cori said, smirking as she picked up a rock with gloved hands and hurled it down the rocky escarpment.

  “That sounds about right. Here I am, basically fired, and I still have to take your Miracle Makeover Program and perform for City officials on July fourth.”

  Brushing dirt from her gloves, Cori turned. “And you’d better take that seriously. Yes, it’s about protecting the dog from the City. But more importantly, it’s about giving Whiskey his life back. He’ll live in chronic anxiety if you don’t create a safe bond and desensitize him to noise.”

  “I know, I’m not backing down. I just haven’t seen much progress. The dog still only meets my eyes if I’m offering him a tennis ball. I aspire to mean more to him than that.”

  Bridget stared up the hill to where Beau stood on an outcropping, watching her. Her eyes softened with love and she smiled automatically. Kinney wondered if she ever looked that way at Sullivan, her boyfriend. It was easier to love a dog, at least in her experience. There were fewer complications—even when the complications were considerable
. Despite their short time together, she already loved Whiskey. Not as much as she’d loved Kali, but enough that she wanted to help him be light and fun again, after his pain. Enough that she would be very upset if Jacinda Allen ever petitioned the City for his return. She’d half-expected Jacinda to track her down after Dan Barber surrendered Whiskey, but there’d been no word so far. Maybe the CCD had scared her off.

  “Have you tried the umbilical cord?” Bridget asked.

  “Excuse me?” Kinney’s stomach was a little queasy and this didn’t sound at all appealing.

  Bridget smiled at her expression. “It’s a training method, usually for little puppies. You leash the dog to you and they have to follow you everywhere, like it or not. It gets them used to you making the decisions.”

  Kinney looked at Cori, who nodded. “Worth a try. We’re short on time for a dog who’s been through so much change and trauma.”

  “Try agility,” Ari said. “Or scent work. Any activity that he might find fun when you’re not doing drills. All work and no play makes for an unhappy dog.”

  “Or service dog classes,” Evie suggested. “You never know what his calling might be.”

  Pushing strands of hair out of her eyes, Kinney laughed. “It’s a good thing I have time on my hands.”

  Cori clapped her gloved hands. “I appreciate your enthusiasm for my canine client, folks, but that’s too much too soon. Kinney just needs to socialize him well, expose him to noise gradually, and above all, act like she’s queen of the world.”

  By this point, they’d reached the outcropping where Beau had stood. Kinney took his place, looking over the valley. Dorset Hills sat far below, cloaked in mist and looking more like a squat, dangerous toadstool than a bucolic town. She spread her arms and waved them. “I command thee to clean up thy act, Frog Town.”

  Everyone applauded and they laughed and joked all the way back down the trail, proving the truth of hillside magic. A menacing cloud might be threatening the future of their beloved town, but they could still enjoy fun and friendship today.

  Kinney fell behind with Remi. “No advice from you about Whiskey? I want him to be like Leo, the happiest dog in the world.”

  “Leo’s far from perfect,” Remi said. “So my only advice is to bring Whiskey up here as much as you can. Champagne air is good for what ails any dog.”

  Chapter 17

  Kinney had only tripped and fallen twice since implementing the “umbilical cord” training approach Bridget had suggested in the hills a few days earlier. During nearly all their waking hours, Whiskey was hooked to a leash around her waist. He came everywhere with her, from the bathroom to running errands, with a few hours of crated quiet time during the day. Regular stints in his “cave” were part of good canine mental health, Cori said.

  It felt odd to go to a meeting with a dog tied to her waist, but she’d cleared it first. An acquaintance of Marilyn Rossi had asked Kinney to give her advice on a dog security issue. She hadn’t given much detail and Kinney hadn’t pressed. She’d been working with Whiskey on his triggers as much as Cori’s detailed program allowed, but that still left her with many hours to contemplate her suspension from work. She was torn between wanting to do something spectacular that would win her old job back, and finding a new path in life. Starting over wasn’t as daunting as it had been when she left social work, but still… She’d expected to have her life on track by age 33. Here she was, practically couch surfing at Marti Forrester’s house, with no job and no real prospects. Her mind offered a constant stream of negative chatter that mostly sounded like her mother. So it was good to get out, no matter what.

  “This is not what Mom wanted for me,” she told Whiskey, as she pulled up in front of a large home in the upscale neighborhood of Farling Heights. The CCD still hadn’t reclaimed the Prius, maybe because she still needed it for the Magical Makeover Program. No doubt they wanted to get full mileage out of that opportunity to humiliate her publicly. Hooking Whiskey up again after she parked, she continued her monologue as they walked up the long driveway. “Mom pictured me in some high-end, secure job with a reliable guy. And definitely a baby or two by now.” She spun twice to release the leash wrapped around her waist, and realized it probably looked like a lighthearted whirl to anyone watching. “I can’t even imagine what she’d say about the umbilical method.”

  Whiskey gave her a passing glance. While his eye contact was improving, he still wasn’t offering the consistent gaze she craved. Clearly she wasn’t worthy of his full attention yet, despite their constant contact.

  Trina Belsky opened the double front doors before Kinney even knocked, and her hopeful smile cleared the cloud in Kinney’s heart. Maybe she’d do some good today for someone in need. That’s what had always driven her.

  There was barking deep inside the house but Whiskey didn’t talk back. He sat beside Kinney without being asked. “Why don’t we just meet you around back?” Kinney said. “No point in tracking dirty paws through the house.”

  Trina nodded. “I’ll leave Chester inside until you’re ready for him.” Her blue eyes, fine, fair hair and small build made her look like a china doll. Kinney would have expected her to choose a tiny lapdog rather than a large, powerful Rhodesian ridgeback.

  Coming through the back gate, Kinney gasped. The yard was large and deep, and beautifully landscaped in a pet-resistant style. It looked like the work of Tiller Iverson, Remi’s boyfriend. He was making a good living designing landscaping that could survive paws and jaws. People who could tailor their skills to Dog Town’s unique needs tended to do very well here.

  What really took her breath away was the large, custom-built doggie “jungle gym.” It had elements of an agility course and a kids’ playground, and was made from a dog-proof material. She’d never seen anything like it, but no doubt it would catch on quickly with those who could afford it.

  “Wow,” she said, as Trina came down the back stairs to join her. “Chester is one lucky dog.”

  “I wish he thought so,” Trina said, her eyes filling instantly with tears. “He’s got all this, but he still tries to escape constantly.” She pointed to a newly built fence that was 10 feet tall. “That’s higher than the City allows, but Chester got over.” There were deep grooves in the wood at eye level. “He jumps, hooks his paws over the top and claws his way up. Sometimes he digs his way under, just for variety. We gave him this playground to work out his energy but I think it just enhanced his skills.”

  “How often does he make a run for it?” Kinney asked.

  “Often enough that the neighbors complain. He’s a friendly dog, but ridgebacks can be intimidating. Especially unneutered dogs.” She patted her eyes. “It won’t be long till someone calls the Tattletail hotline, and then… well, I don’t even want to think about it.”

  “I assume you’ve seen a trainer and are doing all you can to give Chester enough structured exercise?”

  She nodded. “We’ve seen a bunch, and I work with him constantly. He runs in the hills every day. The only option seems to be keeping him chained back here if we’re not with him. But then he gets frustrated and destructive.”

  With Trina’s permission, Kinney let Whiskey off the leash and he ran immediately to the jungle gym and climbed to the top platform. Then he slid down the doggie slide, ran through the tunnel, and started over.

  Perching on the lowest platform, Kinney asked, “Do you mind if I ask why you contacted me? I’m not a trainer. In fact, I need a trainer myself with this guy.”

  “I know. I heard about what happened at the CCD and how you need to do that Miracle Makeover Program.”

  Kinney’s face froze. She wasn’t aware it was common knowledge, or that people would really be that interested in her life. “Yeah. All the more wonder why you called me.”

  Trina’s eyes darted around anxiously, knowing she’d stepped in something. “I just thought that you could give us the CCD’s perspective. Off the record.”

  “Doing things off the record is wh
at got me benched,” Kinney said. Watching Whiskey go down the slide again made her smile in spite of herself. “But I can say that you’re right about what you fear. All it will take is one neighbor complaint about a big dog like Chester to get you a fine, if not more. Despite the fact that the City is trying to find a kinder, gentler approach, there’s always going to be more worry about large dogs.” She got up, called Whiskey and hooked him up again. “What I advise—on the record—is to get in touch with Cori Hogan. She’s an amazing trainer, and the one offering the Miracle Makeover Program.” She started towards the back gate. “Cori will get you on the right track, I’m sure of it.”

  “Wait!” Trina came after her and caught her sleeve. “I think— I think my husband’s going to leave me over this. I heard you were good with…” She hesitated, finding the words. “Pet relationship problems.”

  Kinney turned back and saw a different kind of pain in Trina’s eyes. “Well, I don’t have a long track record, but I’m more than happy to listen. Maybe we’d better go inside for that.”

  Trina invited her into the kitchen and left her at the kitchen table while she went to let Chester out the side door into the yard. It was the most luxurious kitchen Kinney had ever seen. There was smooth marble and more than enough cupboards to fit everything she owned in life. She’d never accumulated much, however. Social work hadn’t paid well and she felt guilty spending anything, when so many people were in more need. Opulence like this intimidated her, but people were people whether they lived in palaces or public housing, and nowhere did that show more than in relation to their pets. Dogs in particular were the great leveler. Even rich people had to pick up poop.

  And even rich people had frantically high-energy dogs. Chester came around the side of the house like a rocket and ran right up the slide of his jungle gym. Before Trina even got back to the kitchen, he’d done a full circuit of all the activities and then run a fast lap around the yard, presumably looking for escape routes.