Death on a Short Leash by Gwendolyn Southin

the office Monday morning, and it was all she could do to wait calmly for Nat to arrive. She had fleetingly thought about calling him the previous night to tell him her wonderful news, but she wanted to see his face. He didn’t disappoint her.
    â€œThis won’t make any difference to you working here, will it?” he asked anxiously. “You won’t need the little amount that I pay you now.”
    â€œOh, Nat!” she said, flinging her arms around him. “You know me better than that. This is going to make things so much easier. I’m going to pay off my mortgage and put the rest in savings. I’m not sure what to do about the property in Quebec yet.”
    â€œAnd the dog?”
    â€œAnother problem. I’ll look into having him shipped out here.”
    Their Girl Friday arrived right on time as usual, and asked her usual question. “You have news about Johanna?” In her anxiety for her friends, Henny had become a different person. Nat was surprised to find that he actually missed her burnt cookies, strong views and advice on how to handle his clients and the office.
    Nat shook his head. “Sorry, Henny.”
    â€œMarie told me that Johanna’s apartment was a nice place?”
    Henny said sadly. “I was to go there one day. Perhaps when you find her . . .” She sat down behind her typewriter. “Marie and David are coming this morning. You know, Mr. Nat, they are very worried.”
    And if they knew what we know, Nat thought, they’d be even more worried. “I put in a call to Sergeant Sawasky,” he said soothingly. “Perhaps he’s heard something.”
    When Marie Evans and her husband arrived a short time later, Henny immediately ushered them into Nat’s office. “Mr. Nat, this is my friend, David Evans,” she said. “They want you to go on looking for Johanna.”
    â€œIs that right, Mr. Evans?” Nat asked.
    â€œThe police are doing nothing. Yes, we’d like you to go on looking for her.” David Evans, short, dark-haired, blue-eyed and dressed in a dark navy-blue suit with a black armband around the left sleeve, looked absolutely exhausted. “I can’t believe this is happening,” he added as he sank into one of the chairs. “Our Johanna is such a wonderful girl, so full of life . . .” He took a long, shuddering breath. “You will find her for us?”
    â€œWe’ll do our best, Mr. Evans. I’m afraid you and your wife will have to sign a contract and . . .” he paused, “it could be costly.”
    â€œWe’ll find the money somehow. Just go ahead.”
    â€œYou are staying in town?”
    â€œWe have to go back to Gibsons Landing today. But we have a telephone, so we can keep in touch.”
    â€œI’ve put in a call to my old partner,” Nat said “He’s still with the force, and he’s agreed to check with Missing Persons for me.
    I’ll call you if he finds out anything.”
    â€œWhat about this nightclub place?” David Evans asked abruptly. “What did you find out?”
    Nat looked at both of them for a moment, as if deciding what he should say. “She’s a performer there,” he said eventually.
    â€œYou mean on the stage?” Marie asked. “Why . . . why would she do something like that?”
    â€œPerhaps she needed the money,” Nat suggested gently.
    â€œWhat would she need money for?” Evans demanded.
    â€œThat’s what we will have to find out,” Nat said, rising to stand behind his chair. “Maggie is waiting outside with the necessary contract. We’ll keep you up-to-date on things.”
    It was late afternoon before George called. Henny, who was in the act of covering her typewriter before departing for home, picked up the phone.
    â€œGeorge here, Henny,” he said. “Nat there?”
    â€œI put you through,” she answered. She sat down again and