Girl's Best Friend (11 page)

Chapter 18

♦     ♦     ♦

“A dog walker?” Dad said, like he’d never heard of such a thing.

“How long has this been going on?” asked Mom. Her voice sounded surprised, horrified, and angry all at the same time—a tone that hinted at a harsh punishment if I didn’t play my cards right. Not that I had any cards left. Not even ones that didn’t count, like the joker or the too-tiny printed instructions.

By the time I’d gotten home and changed into dry clothes, my mom was back from work and my dad had filled her in.

Now the three of us sat in the living room. Me on one side, them—arms crossed and faces crosser—on the other.

They needed some sort of explanation, but I couldn’t figure out which parts of the truth were safe to tell.

Meanwhile, the smells of dinner—chicken and vegetable teriyaki stir-fry—wafted in from the nearby kitchen and made my stomach growl. Torture!

“Maybe we can talk about this over dinner?” I suggested.

“There’ll be no eating until you explain yourself,” said Mom, who really knew how to turn on the pressure.

“I’ve only been doing it for a few weeks.” I pulled a throw pillow onto my lap and tugged at a loose thread. “And it’s only a few dogs.”

“I can’t believe you started a business without telling us,” said Dad.

“It was an accident.”

“You accidentally started a business?” asked Mom. “I don’t really see how that’s possible.”

I shrugged. There were so many more important things to deal with. Kermit. The golden retriever. Ivy and her stupid threats about Milo. Milo himself. Not to mention Preston and his potential surgery.

This was the worst, most inconvenient time to get caught.

“Can you try to explain?” asked Dad.

“And stop pulling at that thread,” said Mom.

I pushed the pillow aside and squirmed in my seat, not knowing where to begin.

“Well, I only walk three dogs.”

“And when, with all this dog walking, are you going to find the time to do your homework?” Mom asked.

“It hasn’t been a problem yet.”

“ ‘Yet’ is the key word,” Dad said. “School’s only just started. It’s going to get harder.”

“And what about oil painting and kung fu?” asked Mom.

“I don’t walk dogs other than Preston over the weekend, and this is exactly why I couldn’t tell you in the first place.”

“So you lied?” asked Mom in full trial-attorney mode. “You’re not exactly making the most valid case here.”

I swallowed hard and tried to explain. “I didn’t lie. It just never came up and you guys knew I walked Preston. So I figured, what’s two more dogs?”

“It could be dangerous, going into strangers’ apartments,” Mom said.

“I agree, and that’s why none of my clients is a stranger. Parminder I know, and Cassie is her neighbor. And it’s not like I’m looking for other clients. Three dogs is my limit. Two that I’m getting paid for and Preston. And walking
him
was your idea. Plus, none of it takes up very much time. Two hours tops. I’m always home by five.”

“You mean you’re always home before us,” Dad pointed out. “So you don’t get caught.”

“Well, that kinda backfired tonight,” I said.

“It’s the sneaking around that concerns me,” Mom said. “The lying and—”

“I never lied.”

“You started a business behind our backs,” Dad said.

“You never
asked
me if I was a dog walker. If you had, I’d have told you. Anyway, you let me babysit, which is even more time-consuming. And this is kind of the same thing … ”

“Except we only let you babysit on weekends,” Mom pointed out. “Having a job every single day after school? That’s too much. You need time to focus on your studies. Seventh grade is important. You’ll be in high school soon and—”

“In two more years!” I said. “That’s forever away. Please don’t make me quit. If you do I’ll be leaving lots of people in the lurch. Not to mention being forced to destroy a very lucrative career.”

“It’s hardly a career,” Mom said.

“For some people it is,” I replied, thinking of crabby Jane. Not that I wanted to be anything like her. Even though I did feel kind of bad now for thinking she was the dognapper.

“That’s true,” Dad admitted. “You know, I used to walk dogs when I was in film school. It was a fun gig.”

“Really?” I asked. “How come you never told me?”

He shrugged. “It never came up.”

“Did it get in the way of your studies?”

My father didn’t answer. So I knew I’d made my point. Now I had to kick up the pleading. “Please don’t ground me. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you and I know it was wrong to deceive you. Honestly, I never meant to. And I won’t let it interfere with my studies. Who knows? It might even look good for college because, you know, it shows that I can be resourceful. Responsible, too. Hardworking. Trustworthy.”

“You do make some good points,” Mom admitted. “And if you’d come to us ahead of time, it would be a different story.”

“Yeah, a very short story because you guys would’ve said no.”

My parents looked at each other. But not like they were mad at me. More like they were trying to figure out what to do, which gave me hope. A little, anyway.

“Want me to set the table?” I asked.

“Finn already did,” Mom said. “He’s been home all afternoon.”

Of course he had.

“Look, your father and I will discuss this later. Go get your brother. Tell him dinner will be ready in five.”

I stood up, headed for the back of the apartment, then turned around. “I really am sorry. I should’ve told you. You’re right. But please don’t make me give it up.”

“We’ll talk later,” Dad said.

And he couldn’t have sounded more ominous if he’d tried.

Chapter 19

♦     ♦     ♦

When I got to our room I found Finn playing Super Mario Brothers on his Wii. Technically the Wii belongs to both of us, but I hadn’t played since the week after we got it.

“Yo,” he said. “Guess what?”

“Not in the mood.” I walked right past him, threw myself facedown on my bed, and rested my head in my arms. I did not move.

“You okay?” asked Finn.

I sighed, almost too upset to explain. “Mom and Dad found out about the dog walking.”

“Yeah, they asked me if I knew anything about it,” said Finn.

I propped myself up on my elbows. “And?”

“And I said no, but that it sounds like a cool idea.”

“You said that?” I asked.

Finn shrugged. “Sure.”

“Thanks.”

“No biggie,” said Finn. “And you’re really going to thank me in a minute.”

I’d no idea what he was talking about, but at the moment I didn’t care. I flipped over onto my back and rubbed my eyes. This was impossible. I had to do something. Had to talk to Milo—to tell him to return Kermit. But what if he got angry? What if he refused? What if he threatened me?

If the guy steals innocent animals, who knows what else he’s capable of? Clearly I didn’t know him at all.

“Tell me I’m the best brother in the entire world,” said Finn.

“Huh?” I looked over at him, confused.

He stood at the foot of my bed, a proud smile on his face. I figured he was going to tell me he’d gotten to the sixth-level galaxy in Super Mario. Although that wouldn’t make him the best brother in the world—only the best gamer in the house, which he already was, but only for a lack of any real competition.

“I know you’ve been mad since our party,” he went on. “And I’m sorry about inviting Ivy and Company. It wasn’t fair. I’ve been feeling bad about it ever since.”

Finn never admitted when he was wrong. Maybe I’d been too quick to call him clueless.

“It’s fine,” I said.

“No, I saw how you two came out of our room that night. After I asked you to get poker chips? Not talking. How your face was pale. And how you never actually got the chips. And I know Ivy turned kind of evil. I just never thought she’d act that way at our party.”

“Don’t worry about it,” I said. And I meant it. I didn’t need to hold a grudge against Finn.

“Well, I’ve already made it up to you.”

“And how’d you do that?” I would’ve asked anyway, just to humor him. But the truth was, I could use the distraction. Anything to take my mind off Milo and what I had to do.

“Remember Amber?” he asked.

“Are you guys back together?” I wondered.

“Nope,” said Finn. “She won’t even speak to me. What I mean is, remember the ‘bait and switch’?”

“Yeah, of course.” Last spring, when Finn had a crush on Amber Greyson, I invited her to the movies and then faked a fever at the last minute. We were supposed to meet at the Pavilion—that’s the closest multiplex—but Finn went instead, with my apologies and his offer to accompany her in my place. She was so charmed, the two of them ended up going out for six whole weeks.

He never even told her that my fever was phony. To this day she still probably thought her first date with Finn was a lucky accident.

Or maybe now she thought of it as unlucky, considering that Finn broke up with her two weeks before school got out.

He did it once he found out she’d be at sleepaway camp in Maine for two months. Amber promised to write to him every week. And Finn panicked, realizing that
he
’d be expected to write letters back. It all sounded like too much work, so he told her long-distance relationships were complicated. She was stunned and wanted more of an explanation. But Finn couldn’t tell her the whole truth because even he realized that his actual reason made him look lazy and kind of callous, too.

“
Do
you want to get back together with her?” I asked. “Because I don’t think that’s going to work. She’s still pretty bent out of shape over being dumped on her birthday.”

“It was the day before her birthday,” Finn said. “That’s when I tried IMing her, anyway. It’s not my fault she didn’t get the message right away.”

“Oh right.” I laughed. “Um, somehow I don’t think that was the problem, exactly.”

“This has nothing to do with Amber,” Finn insisted. “I’m talking about the bait and switch. One of the best things you’ve ever come up with. And I think it’s time I returned the favor.”

“But I don’t like anyone.”

“Come on.” Finn rolled his eyes. “You think I don’t know about your crush on Milo Sanchez?”

“Don’t say his name.”

“What’s the big deal?”

“I don’t like him.”

“What am I, completely clueless?” asked Finn.

“You really want me to answer that?”

“Definitely not.”

Suddenly I saw where he was going with this. And I couldn’t let it happen. I sat up. “Finn, I’m serious. I do not like Milo! It’s very nice of you to want to help me out, but please don’t. There’s a lot going on in my life. Stuff you don’t know about. Stuff you don’t
want
to know about.”

“Why all the crazy talk?” he asked, kicking back on his bed and tossing his Nerf mini football into the air. “I’m only trying to help.”

“Okay, fine. I’ll admit that I
used
to like Milo.”

Finn raised his left eyebrow, a move he perfected last summer. “Used to as in last week?”

Used to as in two hours ago, I thought but didn’t say. “It’s complicated. But trust me, he’s not who I thought he was. So promise me you’re not going to make plans with him.”

“Too late,” said Finn. “He’s coming over tomorrow afternoon.”

“No!”

“I knew if I asked ahead of time you’d say no, and I didn’t want you to chicken out. We’re supposed to play soccer in the park. Or Pro Evolution Soccer on the Wii if it rains. Turns out he’s got the latest version, which has been back-ordered at GameStop for ages.” Finn felt his forehead. “But I’ve definitely been feeling sick.”

This was insane. I flopped back down on my bed and thought about yesterday’s scene in the park. Ivy breaking up the soccer game. All those angry guys. Clearly a bad omen.

“I hate soccer.”

This wasn’t technically true, but it was all I could think to say.

“You don’t have to play soccer with him,” Finn said. “You two should grab a slice at the Pizza Den. No, not the Pizza Den. Go somewhere datelike. Two Boots, maybe? Or the Cocoa Bar for hot chocolate and giant marshmallows? Maybe see a movie?”

I groaned. And not just because I had to get dating advice from my brother, which would’ve been bad enough.

“Don’t thank me or anything.” Finn seemed so pleased, like he’d done something brilliant.

I pulled my pillow over my face and screamed.

Kermit was missing.

My parents were on the verge of grounding me.

Preston might need major surgery.

And now I had a date with the dognapper.

Chapter 20

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My parents didn’t ground me but, for once, I wished they had. If they’d grounded me I would’ve had the perfect excuse not to hang out with Milo on Tuesday. But no. They actually took what I said seriously and acted in a reasonable manner. The one time I wanted them to freak out and overreact!

On a brighter note, they weren’t going to make me stop walking dogs. I just had to promise never to lie to them again.

And to be home by six o’clock every night.

And not to take on any more clients without asking them first.

And to keep up my grades, which wouldn’t be a problem. I’d have plenty of time for studying once I managed to rescue Kermit and the other missing dogs. But for now, it was all I could think about.

I spent my lunch period in the library, avoiding Ivy and Milo and finishing another Nancy Drew novel—
The Hidden Staircase—
but it didn’t give me any new ideas. In fact, of the entire dozen books in my collection, Nancy didn’t have to deal with one kidnapped dog. Clearly I had to find my answers elsewhere.

As soon as school got out I took Preston to the park. He wanted to play fetch with this yellow Lab named Sprout, but I didn’t want him to overdo it, what with his possible heart condition, so we just walked around.

After dropping him off I collected Bean, who snarled at the mail carrier almost as soon as we got to the sidewalk. We just circled the block.

When I walked dog-Milo down Third Street, I saw a familiar blond toddler drawing rainbows on the sidewalk. His mom sat on the stoop in the shade, reading
The New Yorker
.

“Hey, Beckett,” I said.

Looking up, he narrowed his eyes at me in suspicion. He seemed to be asking, “Do I know you?” with his silent glare.

“We met when I was walking Bean,” I said. “The little Maltese who looks like—”

“Cookie!” Beckett yelled. He stood up and placed his chubby hands on his tiny hips.

“Yes, Cookie.”

His mom smiled at me. “You have two dogs?” she asked.

“Actually, I have none. I’m just a dog walker.”

“Oh, I didn’t realize. I should get your number.”

“You have a new dog?” I asked.

“We’re planning on getting another one,” she replied. “But I think I’ll do a little more research this time. Get one with a better temperament.”

“Good idea,” I said, thinking if Cookie were anything like Bean personality-wise, well, that would be something to avoid.

Not that it made her story any less tragic … 

Of course, thinking of Cookie’s fate made me scared for Preston all over again.

“Can I ask you something?” I said to her, staring down at Beckett and trying to figure out how to put it delicately. “Um, I was wondering about the circumstances of Cookie’s … trip to the farm.”

He rolled his eyes and dropped to the sidewalk once more. This time he drew a truck with red chalk. Then shaded it purple.

His mom set her magazine aside, stood up, and walked over. “She had to have heart surgery,” she whispered as she bent down to pet Milo. “And there were complications.”

“I’m so sorry. Maybe I shouldn’t have brought it up.”

“No, it’s okay. The poor dog had a very rare heart defect and the doctor warned us that the surgery was risky. But doing nothing would have been even more dangerous … That’s what we were told, anyway. And, well, you know the rest.”

As I listened to her story I got the shivers. Because it wasn’t just sad—it sounded eerily familiar. “Who was Cookie’s doctor?”

“She’s right in the neighborhood, unfortunately, which means I can’t walk down Sixth Avenue without getting teary-eyed.” Beckett’s mom’s eyes welled up now, even just talking about poor Cookie.

“Sixth Avenue? Are you talking about Dr. Reese?”

Beckett’s mom seemed surprised. “You know her?”

“I just took a client there yesterday. When did this all happen?”

“About a month ago.” She shrugged. “Maybe longer. Why do you ask?”

“Just wondering,” I said, backing away. “Thanks for letting me know, and good luck with the new dog.”

“Wait, do you have a card?” she asked.

“A card?”

“For your dog-walking business.”

“Oh right. I don’t have one yet. But here … ” I pulled a piece of Doggie Deets stationery from my bag, wrote down my number, and handed it over.

“Maggie,” Beckett’s mom read. “Nice to meet you, Maggie. I’m Lisa and you know Beckett, of course.”

“Of course,” I repeated.

“I’ll call you as soon as we get that new dog.”

“Okay, thanks,” I replied as I waved good-bye. “And see you later, Beckett.”

Beckett looked up and frowned at me. “Tell Cookie I say hi,” he said.

“Honey, Cookie is at the farm and Maggie has never even met her,” his mom assured him.

Same drill, different day, but I didn’t stick around to hear it.

I hurried dog-Milo home so I could prepare for my date with boy-Milo, who, I suppose, should really be referred to as jerk-Milo.