Ruff Way to Go by Leslie O'Kane

devoted to his
dog. Could I have gotten the scenario correct before, but with the wrong
principal player? Trevor could have come looking for Shogun, found him badly
injured or dead in a fight with Suds, and accidentally killed Cassandra when he
meant to strike down Suds. That was far-fetched, but the very act of murder was
so beyond my comprehension that any explanation would seem “far-fetched” to me.
    For obvious
reasons, this was not the theory to volunteer at the moment. “How often has
Shogun been to your new residence, Trevor? If he really did feel closer to you
than to Edith, maybe he’s on his way there now.”
    He
brightened a little at that prospect. “He’s been at my condo at least half a
dozen times. Do you think he could find his way all the way there?”
    “Maybe.” In
truth, it was only a remote possibility, but certainly not out of the question.
I’d heard of instances where dogs managed to travel hundreds of miles to
reunite with their owners.
    Just then,
an avocado-colored Volvo pulled up that I recognized as belonging to Russell
Greene, my officemate. Suddenly our house was turning into Grand Central
Station.
    A couple of
months earlier, when I first moved back to Colorado, Russell had rented the
front room of his two-office suite to me. He also had a crush on me, which I
was recently beginning to reciprocate. We’d been out on a couple of dates and
enjoyed each other’s company. We seemed to have considerably different
interests, but he was such a decent, caring person that I couldn’t help but be
attracted to him.
    He got out
of the car, smoothing his dark mustache. As always, he was nicely dressed,
wearing dark slacks, a royal blue silk tie, and a striped shirt. He was short,
which made us nicely matched, and had a well-proportioned, compact build. In a
land of midgets, he and I could rule the world, but as it was, people kept
flashing us annoying what-a-cute-couple grins when they saw us together.
    He gave me a
nervous smile as he jogged up our steps, and I suddenly remembered that he wasn’t
simply dropping by unannounced. Damn it all! We had a date tonight!
    He held a
hand out to Trevor, who’d paused before making his departure as if to learn the
identity of my visitor. “Hi. Russell Greene.”
    “Trevor Cunningham.”
He hesitated. When neither of us spoke, he forced a smile. “Guess I’ve taken up
enough of your time, Allida. I just...” He ran his hand through his unruly
hair. “If you hear anything, if he comes back, please let me know.”
    “I will.”
    “Have a good
evening.”
    “Call me if
he’s at your place when you get back.”
    Trevor
nodded, then got into his car and drove away.
    We watched
him go. “Missing dog?” Russell correctly surmised.
    “Yes, under
excruciating circumstances. My neighbor was murdered a few hours ago in Trevor’s
backyard, and the dog apparently ran off.”
    “Your
neighbor was murdered! Oh, my God. I’m sorry, Allida.” He turned to face
the Cunninghams’ house. “I wondered what all of the police-scene tape was for.”
He searched my face, his own expression downhearted. “I guess we should take a
rain check on our date, huh?”
    His
willingness to postpone our date made me less eager to desert the idea myself.
I suspected that curious friends and acquaintances would be calling constantly
tonight, as soon as word got out that there was a murder in Berthoud. Staying
home and fielding those calls was infinitely less appealing than being wined
and dined by Russell. “No, but I’ll need some time to get ready.”
    “You look…great
the way you are. Don’t feel you need to change on my account.”
    This was
truly generous of him, as I was wearing the khakis and simple blue cotton
blouse that my mother had brought to me at the police station.
    “Russell,
hello,” Mom exclaimed from behind me. She was smiling broadly and rushed up to
greet him. She and I hadn’t discussed the topic, but Mom seemed to have a
closer affinity for