Doghouse by L. A. Kornetsky

knew they were talking about it. “Anything else?”
    â€œNo.” Tonica went down on one knee and patted his thigh, calling Georgie over to him. She went without any reluctance, accepting his petting. “No sign of kennels, cages, or any indication that anything illegal or bloody had ever happened there. But Parsifal there is a pretty big neon clue.”
    â€œParsifal?” Ginny looked down at the terrier puppy.“Tonica, that name’s bigger than he is.”
    â€œGet in the car, Mallard.”
    She laughed, still cuddling the puppy, and watched while Tonica opened the door and coaxed Georgie inside. “It’s a good thing we’re going to the vet, then, anyway. We can get him checked out, make sure he’s healthy, and see if he’s got a chip to tell us who he belongs to.”
    The look that Tonica threw her, as he got behind the wheel and started the car, was telling, and chilling. He didn’t think the puppy was chipped, didn’t think that any owners were going to show up with relief and claim him.
    Neither did she.
    â€œGeorgie, settle down. Georgie!” She held the puppy in one arm and shoved the other dog’s nose gently, until she sat back down. “Stay,” Ginny said sternly. “You know better than to try and get up in the car. Shut up, Teddy,” she said, not even looking at the driver, but knowing he was grinning. “If your puppy ruins Georgie’s up until now perfect car manners . . .”
    â€œNot my dog,” he said, but kept any other comment to himself.
    â€œHello.”
    The puppy flopped on his side, and craned his short neck around Ginny’s arm to better see who was talking to him. “Hello.”
    â€œI’m Georgie.” The shar-pei came a little closer, shoving her nose into the space between the front seats, but still keeping close to the floor, so Ginny didn’t get upset again. “What’s your name?”
    The puppy looked at her quizzically. It had whiskers like Penny’s, long and silvery, and twitchy.
    â€œC’mon, Parsifal,” Ginny said. “Stop squirming, will you?”
    â€œParsifal,” Georgie said. “That’s your name.”
    â€œAll right,” the puppy said. “What’s a Parsifal?”
    â€œI don’t know,” Georgie admitted. “Penny will know.”
    â€œWhat’s a Penny?”
    â€œShe’s a cat,” Georgie started to say, and the puppy scrambled under the warm hands holding him, trying to get up. “Cat? Where?”
    â€œSeriously, dog, stop wiggling!”
    â€œNot here. Later.” Georgie shushed the puppy, telling it to stay still. When Ginny used that voice, it was time to put your nose on your paws and pretend to be asleep.
    They spent the rest of the ride staring at each other, Georgie curious, the puppy fading in and out of sleep.
    As they slid back into traffic, Teddy’s attention was split between dealing with the road and Ginny’s talking to the two dogs, trying to get them to settle down. He noticed the sedan that moved into place behind them, a late-model Chevy in dark blue, the kind that made airport runs for half the price of a cab, but he didn’t think much of it.
    He certainly didn’t recognize it as the car that had been parked across the street from Deke’s house when he arrived that morning.
    The driver, an Asian man in his late thirties, kept exactlyone car length behind, slowing and speeding as they did, never getting too close, but not letting them out of sight until they reached their destination. While they parked in the open lot attached to the building, the sedan idled along the curb around the corner, waiting until they went inside.
    The driver then picked up his cell phone from the seat next to him and entered a number.
    â€œHe picked up a woman and a dog, and went to a veterinary office in Washington Park. No, the dog was a big one, full-grown. No,