Sneak Thief (A Dog Park Mystery) (22 page)

L
ia gave
each dog a rawhide chew, then returned to the kitchen and her lentil sprout experiment. Bailey and Louella Zimmerman were coming over and she needed to finish up in the kitchen and pick up the living room. Five minutes later, Honey and Chewy cornered her by the sink. They stared at her, rawhide chews nowhere in sight. Honey gave two sharp barks to ensure she had Lia's attention. Lia washed her hands and followed them back into the living room.

Lia searched the floor. No chews. “You can't have eaten them so fast. What happened? And where's Julia?” Honey barked again and Lia followed the two dogs to the bedroom. Honey and Chewy stopped at the bedroom door, panting and looking at Lia expectantly.

Lia looked in the door. Nothing was out of order. She walked around to the other side of the bed. Nothing there. The closet door was cracked. She pulled the door open and gasped when a stack of winter scarves fell out on top of her. “Is this your idea of a joke?” She asked the dogs. They cocked their heads as if they were trying, but could not understand, what she was saying.
Riiiggghhhttt
.

Julia was not in the closet. Lia gave up the search, picked up the scarves and hats and sat down on the bed to refold them. She heard a low, grinding mutter of some kind. She froze, trying to figure out where the sound was coming from, her mind scrambling to decipher its meaning.
Is Foil Man be here? But where? How did he get in?
She looked around the room for hiding places, then realized that she was sitting on top the only place he could be.

She stood up and the rumbling noise stopped. She sat down and it started again. She abandoned the scarves, got down on her knees at the side of the bed and lifted the dust ruffle. The hoarse, gravelly noise began again, louder. It sounded like an engine full of rocks having an asthma attack, like Darth Vader in his death throes, and it came from under the dust ruffle.

Lia dropped the ruffle and the sounds of a thousand mutters emerging from the pits of Hell stopped. She lowered her head, ear to the floor, and pulled up the ruffle again. This time the sound rose and fell as it rumbled, as if someone was trying to crank the rock engine, revive Darth Vader, and open the Hell gate.

She lifted the ruffle all the way. Red-rimmed eyes glared out of the darkness. Julia snarled. Wild, vicious, a demon undergoing exorcism. A dragon protecting hoarded gold from encroaching hobbits. Lia counted 8 mangled strips of rawhide scattered in Julia's inky hidey-hole.

She stood up and dusted off her hands, relief warring with irritation.

“This is going to stop.”

Swiffer in hand, she tucked the dust ruffle under the mattress, and ran the floor sweeper under the bed. Julia barked in protest as Lia dragged out the dusty bits of leather.

The rawhide chews must have been the source of Julia's unearthly power. Once the last chew was retrieved, she popped out from under the bed, confronting Lia with wide, affronted eyes. She lunged at her lost treasures. Lia grabbed Julia's collar and marched her out of the room, shutting the door on all three dogs. One of them, Julia, she thought, scratched at the door and whined.

“This is unacceptable, Julia. If you can't share, we just won't have any.” Lia swept the treats into a pile and wrapped them in a ratty scarf she'd made for her first (and only) knitting project. She held the package high as she opened the door, out of reach of jumping dogs.

Julia lay on the floor, alone. Honey and Chewy had apparently realized the excitement was over, or else they decided they didn't want to suffer guilt by association and chose to abandon Julia to her fate now that they ratted her out.

Julia lifted her head. The big eyes were bereft. Lia thought she saw a glimmer of tears forming. That was silly. Dogs don't cry.
Well, maybe Julia does
.

L
ouella Zuckerman was
a petite woman with blushing cream skin and wispy, pale, angel hair, wreathing her head in disordered waves. Her draped tunic in washes of pastel hues added to the ethereal look. Something about her reminded Lia of roses, cream-colored roses with blushing edges.

Louella stood in the doorway, and her hair became a halo as she was backlit by the sun. The sunlight fell away when she followed Bailey into Lia's apartment. The effect disappeared, but not the whisper of unearthly presence.

Louella knelt on the floor, then sat as the dogs crowded around her. Honey licked her face and Chewy head-bumped her hand for pets. Julia crawled into her lap. Kita sniffed her hair, a drool streamer dangling precariously near Louella's lovely silk top.

“I've never done this before,” Lia said. “How does it work?”

“I need to be in physical contact with the animals, one at a time, and I let them talk to me. I'll repeat what they say, as best I can. They show me images, so it doesn't always translate well. Is Julia the baby doll in my lap?”

“How did you know?”

“I'm picking up some anxiety off her. We need to start here at your apartment, where Julia feels comfortable. We might be able to get everything you need without going back to her home. That would be best, less traumatic for her. I've never communicated with an animal who witnessed murder, so I don't know quite what to expect. Let me say hello to everyone else first.” Her voice was sparkling dew, innocent and friendly as childhood. She cooed over the dogs, petting them.

“They can't wait to talk to you,” Bailey said. “They already know you understand them. Is it okay if we record this?”

“Certainly, if it will help.”

Bailey turned on the recording app on her phone and set it on the coffee table, near the pile of dogs and woman.

Louella handed Julia over to Lia, then turned her attention to Kita. Kita sat proudly, the tenacious streamer dangling off her chin.

“Such a regal head,” Louella said, rubbing Kita behind the ears. She closed her eyes for a moment in concentration as she stroked Kita's back.

“I like this place,” she said.

Lia blinked and started to say something. Bailey put a hand out, signaling her to remain silent.

“I don't live here, but I come here lots. Happy dog and little dog are my friends. Sad dog is scared. Sad dog is new. This is a nice place. I like it here.

“I like it here, too,” she told Kita. She gave the hound a final pat. Honey nosed under Louella's arm.

Again, Louella focused, one hand stroking honey's shoulder. Honey sat on her haunches and grinned, tongue lolling.

“This is my house. I've been here a long time. I was a little dog when I came here. Pesty dog has been here a little long time. Pesty dog is my friend. Big dog is my friend. Big dog visits, big dog doesn't stay. Dark dog isn't here. Dark dog stays sometimes. Dark dog does bad things sometimes. I never do bad things. I'm a good dog. Sad dog has been here a little. Sad dog misses her mom.

“Yes, Honey, you are a very good dog.” Louella gave Honey's ears a ruffle and focused her attention on Chewy, scratching under his chin. She ran her fingers through his overgrown coat.

“Someone doesn't like the groomers,” she said.

“You can tell that?” Lia asked.

Louella closed her eyes. “I'm seeing him yap and yap at the clippers. He's a wiggler. He won't stay still for her.”

“I always knew he was afraid of the groomers. I overtip because he behaves so badly.”

“Not afraid so much. . . . He doesn't want a hair cut. He likes being casual,” Louella said. “Oh, now he wants to talk.

“I'm Mom's good little man,” she said. “I can sit and wait my turn.” Chewy demonstrated this by plopping his haunches onto the floor. “I like the park. Sad dog is park friend. We played before. Now Sad Dog stays. I hope Sad dog doesn't stay long. Sad dog wants all the mom pets.
I
want the mom pets. She's
my
mom.”

The look on Chewy's face was so indignant, Lia burst out laughing. Then she blinked, as tears threatened. She wasn't sure what to call what she was experiencing, how to explain what it felt like to be able to understand what her dogs were thinking and feeling this way. She only knew that her chest felt full and she wanted to hug her dogs to her and not let them go.

Louella continued. “Sad dog scared when she came. Sad dog not scared now. I take care of sad dog.”

Julia was curled in Lia's lap. Lia patted the sofa cushion next to her. “Come here, little man, I can pet you both.” Chewy looked at Louella for a minute, decided they were done talking, and bounced over and onto the couch.

Louella called to Julia and held her arms out. Julia abandoned Lia, returning to Louella's lap. “What big, beautiful eyes she has.” Louella stroked her head and long ears and continued stroking as she began communing with the dog.

“I like you. You're a nice lady. This is a nice place. Here are nice dogs. Before was a bad place, a small place. Dark woman wouldn't let me out. I cried and cried. I had to pee. I didn't want to pee in the small place. Dark woman yelled and yelled. I cried for Mom. Mom didn't come.”

Lia wanted to cry, realizing how Julia must have felt while she was locked in that bathroom.

“Okay, I'm going to ask her some questions. You won't be able to hear me, just what she says. We'll see how she does. I'll stop if she gets too upset.” She resumed petting Julia and they spent a long moment communing silently.

“I miss my mom. Little dog's mom is nice, I like her. I want
my
mom. . . . Mom was down. I went to sniff mom. My paws got sticky. . . . Big man, angry, mess, I hid . . . big noise, hurt ears, mom fell. . . . Mom still. . . . Shiny furry man there. Shiny, furry man sad. Shiny, furry man has sticky paws. Shiny, furry man plays with me sometimes, not then, not when he was sad. . . . Alone. Mom won't move. Dark woman came. Dark woman yelled at us. Mom was still, didn't move. . . . Dark woman put me in small, bad place. Pretty dog mom got me—“ Louella broke off her narrative. “Julia's telling me she's very happy you took her away—we went to find mom, mom wasn't there. Where's mom?”

Lia was stunned. Louella gave Julia a big hug and rocked her like a baby.

“Wow,” was all Bailey said.

“Did that make sense to you?” Louella asked. She continued to baby Julia, who was now huddled in her lap and not inclined to leave.

“Some of it did,” Lia said.

“Do you understand what she meant about a ‘big noise' and ‘sticky'?”

“I can guess,” Bailey said. “Her mom was shot, that would be a big noise. And she bled on the floor, so Julia's paws were sticky if she tried to get her up. If shiny furry man touched the body, he would have gotten sticky, too. Why does she call him shiny, furry man?”

Louella stroked Julia again “I don't understand about the shiny, it's not clear. But he's been there before, and I would say he has a lot of hair. Dogs think of hair as fur.”

“Shiny for foil? He was in her apartment? He knew Desiree?” Lia asked, eyebrows raised.

Louella asked Julia. “Mom gone. . . . Did Desiree have a dog walker, someone who would come by to take care of the dog when she was working?”

“Not that we know of.”

“This man was never there when Desiree was there. Julia is clear on that.”

“So. . .” Bailey put the pieces together. “Either Desiree had a dog sitter or else her stalker was in her apartment when she was gone and made friends with Julia so Julia wouldn't raise cain. Can you ask her how many times he came?”

“We're both exhausted. We were lucky to get this much from her. Their sense of time and numbers is vague, we wouldn't be likely to get a solid answer, even if we were both fresh. Her memory is likely to fade, as well. This is probably as good as it gets. Will you share the recording with the police?”

“If we tell them the dog saw a big shiny, furry man, they'll fall down laughing. It's not really enough for them to go on.”

“Are you going to keep her?”

“Only until Three Sisters finds a foster home for her.”

“She's anxious. The less change she has to deal with, the better. It would be best if she went from here to a permanent home, and if she had time to adjust to her new owners before she went to them. She knows Honey and Chewy, and she feels safer here than if she were somewhere else. Who is the dark woman?”

“That was Desiree's landlady. I don't think she likes dogs.”

“Julia doesn't think she likes them, either, do you, Julia?”

Julia gave her a sorrowful look.

“Feel free to call me when it's time to transfer her. I might be able to ease her anxiety.”

“Thanks, Louella.”