this was a New Man and a New Kid.
“Fill this from your canteen. Left mine in the truck.”
Jimmy filled the hubcap and slid it to the dog.
“Think he’s a killer dog, Dad?” The ring of excitement in the boy’s voice said that he hoped so.
“It’s a Lab, Jimmy. Labs aren’t killers less they got rabies.” He watched the dog closely as it half-sat up, and gulped the water, one of the tell-tale signs of rabies. Maybe they should leave it right here and drive back home.
“He looks like that dog on the billboard. Right, Dad? I’ll betcha he’s famous.”
The man took the dog’s head in his hands and turned it left, then right. “Can’t tell. They all look alike until you get to know them. Wonder what this pink mess on his ear is all about?”
“Maybe we could take him now—you know—in case he’s famous.”
The man set the dog’s head carefully on the ground. “Best to play it safe, in case he’s sick. Somebody dumped him here for a reason. Youns give him a burger out of the bag. Just the burger—and the bun. A handful of fries. Nothin’ else. We’ll come back in a bit. If he acts okay, he’s ours.”
The boy took off running. “Ryan! Billy! We got ourselves a free dog!”
The Man ran his hands over the dog’s body. “Good bones, eyes seem okay. You’ll fetch five-hundred easy back home, after we get this mess off your ear.” He chipped at the polish with his thumb nail. “Maybe this trip won’t be a complete bust.” They’d driven down from Harrisburg and had nothing to show for it. Duck season was long over and the ducks were long gone.
King didn’t mind that this New Kid wasn’t as gentle with him as the others back at his house had been. It was okay. He’d brought him meat and more water, but drove away like the Men from before. The Kid waved at him, though, and yelled Good Dog before the truck disappeared around the bend.
All in all, a pretty good day.
CHAPTER 14
Keys.
I blame Jeep.
He’s the one who vanished and knocked me so far off balance that my brain functioned only in Safe Mode. Food. Liquids. Grey’s Anatomy . Since Jeep’s been gone, I’ve put my shoes in the refrigerator, sent American Express all my money—they were lovely and returned it—but still. And walked into a wall. Twice.
Keys. I played it out carefully in my head.
Find them.
Steal them.
Keep Gertie from pulling up floor boards searching for them.
“How’s it going in here?” Gertie leaned against the door jamb, her back to me, voice low, and kept one eye on the kitchen door. “They’ll be down any minute.”
“Did either of them mention a dog?”
“Not a word. Jaqie, that’s the second time you’ve mentioned a dog. Something you need to tell me?”
The jig was up. In spite of the hairspray and the fugue-inducing purple decor, Miss Gertie could spot a situation at fifty paces.
“I think your guests have the Cuthbart’s dog. When I went to the mansion this morning, I didn’t get the slightest hint that Francine was expecting a ransom call. She only wanted to talk about the Oakley Beach Butcher. King gone missing was as about important as a broken nail.
“I believe she paid those guys to steal him.”
Gertie spritzed lavender water on the plastic flowers. “She’s a high and mighty one, Francine Cuthbart. Doesn’t strike me as a dog lover. Any kind of a lover.” She hid the atomizer under the sink cupboard, pulled a chair away from the table and sat. “If the Cuthbarts wanted rid of the dog, they’d hire that out. Wouldn’t get their hands dirty.
“If they paid somebody to get rid of the dog, it would have to be a complete disappearance. As popular as that dog was. A rock star. If the voters even thought that dog was deliberately done in, Geoff Cuthbart can kiss his political future bye-bye.”
“How could Francine—or her husband—do that to their own children?”
“Not her kids. Geoff Cuthbart’s first wife died in a train wreck. My money’s on
“Fill this from your canteen. Left mine in the truck.”
Jimmy filled the hubcap and slid it to the dog.
“Think he’s a killer dog, Dad?” The ring of excitement in the boy’s voice said that he hoped so.
“It’s a Lab, Jimmy. Labs aren’t killers less they got rabies.” He watched the dog closely as it half-sat up, and gulped the water, one of the tell-tale signs of rabies. Maybe they should leave it right here and drive back home.
“He looks like that dog on the billboard. Right, Dad? I’ll betcha he’s famous.”
The man took the dog’s head in his hands and turned it left, then right. “Can’t tell. They all look alike until you get to know them. Wonder what this pink mess on his ear is all about?”
“Maybe we could take him now—you know—in case he’s famous.”
The man set the dog’s head carefully on the ground. “Best to play it safe, in case he’s sick. Somebody dumped him here for a reason. Youns give him a burger out of the bag. Just the burger—and the bun. A handful of fries. Nothin’ else. We’ll come back in a bit. If he acts okay, he’s ours.”
The boy took off running. “Ryan! Billy! We got ourselves a free dog!”
The Man ran his hands over the dog’s body. “Good bones, eyes seem okay. You’ll fetch five-hundred easy back home, after we get this mess off your ear.” He chipped at the polish with his thumb nail. “Maybe this trip won’t be a complete bust.” They’d driven down from Harrisburg and had nothing to show for it. Duck season was long over and the ducks were long gone.
King didn’t mind that this New Kid wasn’t as gentle with him as the others back at his house had been. It was okay. He’d brought him meat and more water, but drove away like the Men from before. The Kid waved at him, though, and yelled Good Dog before the truck disappeared around the bend.
All in all, a pretty good day.
CHAPTER 14
Keys.
I blame Jeep.
He’s the one who vanished and knocked me so far off balance that my brain functioned only in Safe Mode. Food. Liquids. Grey’s Anatomy . Since Jeep’s been gone, I’ve put my shoes in the refrigerator, sent American Express all my money—they were lovely and returned it—but still. And walked into a wall. Twice.
Keys. I played it out carefully in my head.
Find them.
Steal them.
Keep Gertie from pulling up floor boards searching for them.
“How’s it going in here?” Gertie leaned against the door jamb, her back to me, voice low, and kept one eye on the kitchen door. “They’ll be down any minute.”
“Did either of them mention a dog?”
“Not a word. Jaqie, that’s the second time you’ve mentioned a dog. Something you need to tell me?”
The jig was up. In spite of the hairspray and the fugue-inducing purple decor, Miss Gertie could spot a situation at fifty paces.
“I think your guests have the Cuthbart’s dog. When I went to the mansion this morning, I didn’t get the slightest hint that Francine was expecting a ransom call. She only wanted to talk about the Oakley Beach Butcher. King gone missing was as about important as a broken nail.
“I believe she paid those guys to steal him.”
Gertie spritzed lavender water on the plastic flowers. “She’s a high and mighty one, Francine Cuthbart. Doesn’t strike me as a dog lover. Any kind of a lover.” She hid the atomizer under the sink cupboard, pulled a chair away from the table and sat. “If the Cuthbarts wanted rid of the dog, they’d hire that out. Wouldn’t get their hands dirty.
“If they paid somebody to get rid of the dog, it would have to be a complete disappearance. As popular as that dog was. A rock star. If the voters even thought that dog was deliberately done in, Geoff Cuthbart can kiss his political future bye-bye.”
“How could Francine—or her husband—do that to their own children?”
“Not her kids. Geoff Cuthbart’s first wife died in a train wreck. My money’s on
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