That got his attention. He leaped straight up in the air, turned around and ran back to meet me. “What do you mean? Broke in?—When? How?—Who?”
“Hold on a minute. I’ll tell you all about it, but first I have to go outside. Remember, I just woke up.”
“Oh, yeah, okay I’ll go with you.—You can talk and pee at the same time, right?”
We both went out the dog door. I didn’t see the other boys anywhere. They must have been off doing their morning rounds of the property. I convinced Fearless to let me have some privacy and he wandered off a ways. I don’t know about you, but I find it hard to get things started when someone is looking right at me.
There, that felt a whole lot better. Fearless sauntered back and we headed to the barn. I told him the story of what had happened way back before Moxie had died and my theory on how that old bug might’ve gotten into Mom’s computer.
Luckily, Fearless caught on quick. “And you dogs never figured out who—broke into the house?—In all these years, you never—again smelled that man’s scent?—Not even one more time?”
“Nope, not once, and I certainly would’ve recognized it if we had. So that means he never again was in this house, or into the new office downtown, or even so much as shook hands with Mom. I would’ve smelled him. The person was here only that one time.”
“That’s really weird. To go to all that trouble— and then disappear.—Who’d do such a thing,—and why?”
“I don’t know. Maybe he moved away, or maybe he ran away. But one thing I’m sure of, he never again went anyplace this nose went. I would have known.”
“Okay, Spunk, we may not know who did it,— but—can we figure out
why
he did it?”
“That’s the key question. We don’t know enough to answer it yet. I think all we can do right now is stay on alert and see what else we learn from the situation with Donny and the group. I’m convinced the events from years ago and this current stuff are connected. Maybe something will happen that’ll give us some new clues.”
Fearless nodded. “Okay, but I don’t think—we should keep this one to ourselves.—This involves the whole family.—I think you need to tell your story—to the boys. I also think—we should alert the neighborhood watch gang.—As far as I’m concerned, the more eyes on this house—the better.”
I agreed. Knowing all our friends in the neighborhood were on alert would make us all feel a lot safer. Even the best security system in the world can’t compare to the scanners on a whole posse of cats and dogs!
When a full-blown critter alert goes out, it doesn’t take long to get the word around. Mom couldn’t figure out why suddenly there were so many critters dropping by. Before her concern escalated and she starting pulling out the trapping cage, we switched to meeting late at night. That way she was sound asleep and she knew nothing about it. We made house calls the next day to our friends who were safely off the streets at night and couldn’t attend the meeting.
Almost every critter in the neighborhood offered to help.
True, it was a little hard for us to communicate with the Mexican Chihuahua and the Russian wolfhound, but as in any neighborhood, if you look hard enough, you can always find someone who speaks their language.
There were a couple who didn’t want to be involved. They wouldn’t even come out to talk about it. Thank goodness, there were only two of those. Heck, even Chester the scared cocker spaniel mustered up enough courage to come off his front porch and attend a meeting. He said that after everything we’d done for him, it was the least he could do. We were mighty proud of him.
Within two days, we had an excellent security parameter set up. Anything or anyone not belonging in our neighborhood was closely followed. We emphasized to all the critters that we only wanted them to track and report. I sure hoped that a few of the males with anger management issues would keep their cool. One could sense the heightened awareness and edginess all around the neighborhood. This would definitely not be the best time for a brand new mail carrier to take over our route.
Meanwhile, Mom’s group continued to meet in public, either at a restaurant or at the coffee shop. The group had settled into a more relaxed state. Nothing new or peculiar had happened. Since they didn’t know the history as I did, the group had no reason to suspect any connection between all the events.
Mom was paying close attention to Alan’s behavior.
So, I learned, was Jacob.
Mom had now cooled off—a little anyway. The first few days after she’d sent Jacob home, she wouldn’t even take me to Puppy Park. I needed to intervene. On the fourth day, I stood at the back door at the customary departure time and gave her a confused, pleading look. To seal the deal, I even whined very softly. That’s when she said, “Hey, you’re right girl, I’m not going to let any man get in the way of
our
special time together. We’re going! If Jacob is uncomfortable with that, then
he
can go at a different time.”
Off we went. Quincy and Jacob were already there. What were the humans supposed to do with two dogs pulling at their leashes trying to see each other? They let us go play.
“Hi, Quincy. How are things going at your house?”
“Not great. Jacob’s moody. Keeps stomping around, banging things. How’s are things at your place?”
“Mom’s real quiet. A lot of sighing. Then she throws back her shoulders and mutters something like, ‘Just get on with it, Hannah’ and starts being busy. But it looks like they’re still talking to each other.”
We both glanced in their direction. I bet icebergs get closer to each other than Mom and Jacob were. But although Mom had her arms tightly folded across her chest and was looking at me, not Jacob, her mouth was moving. We moved closer.
“Jacob, I’m sorry if I was rude the other night. I’m sorry if I led you on in any way, but I’m just not ready for an intimate relationship. I know my husband’s been gone a long time, but after twenty-five years of being with just one man, it isn’t something I can just casually jump into.”
“Okay, Hannah, let’s just forget it. It sure is a nice day, don’t you think?”
Apparently Jacob wasn’t going to discuss it.
Quincy and I headed off for a romp. Quincy proceeded to tell me what Jacob and he had been up to. He told me that they started following Alan the day after Mom had voiced her suspicions that he was acting edgy. Jacob told Quincy that it made him feel better to be doing something constructive rather than sitting around worrying about Mom— even
if
the woman was too ornery for her own good. Quincy was very quick to clarify that
Jacob
had said that, not him.
Quincy said that every morning they headed out about six o’clock. First, they stopped at the doughnut shop. Jacob told Quincy no stake-out is complete without food. The coffee was for Jacob but Quincy did allow his human some of his doughnuts. They then headed over to Alan’s and John’s apartment. Jacob had followed them home after a therapy session so he now knew where they lived. Apparently Alan left for work exactly at six-forty-five every morning. Alan worked at a four-star restaurant where apparently they started early to get everything ready for the high class-customers they’d be serving later in the day.
Six days a week Alan went to work. Six mornings a week, Jacob and Quincy followed him. Monday through Friday, Jacob then took Quincy home and changed his clothes before heading to his own job at eight-thirty. Every morning, the same routine.
It was at the end of the day that things stopped being routine. Luckily, Alan didn’t leave the restaurant until after six, which gave Jacob plenty of time to go home, change, grab a cold drink, and pick up Quincy. Alan didn’t always go straight home. Sometimes it was regular stuff like picking up the dry cleaning or stopping at the store. That didn’t raise any eyebrows. However, another stop, which Alan made regularly once a week, caught their attention.
At first, Jacob thought Alan was stopping at the gay bar to have a little flirt or two. The events that followed led him to think differently. They kept seeing a tall, slender white dude walk into the bar right before or right after Alan. The man was always nicely dressed and appeared to be quite dapper. Jacob had commented numerous times how the outfit the man had on must have cost more than all the clothes in Jacob’s closet. Alan and the man only stayed in the bar for a few moments. They then left together and walked to Alan’s car. Alan would open his trunk and hand the man a package. In return, the man handed Alan an envelope. Then they went their separate ways. That was it. No hugging was involved. Maybe it was a drug buy, but it certainly was not a secret love affair. Another curious fact was the package itself. It was round, like rolled up documents, not small like packets of powder or bottles of pills.
What was Alan up to? Could he be selling documents? Had he figured out a way to download files from Mom’s computer? If so, what was the other guy going to do with them? Jacob and Quincy were planning to try and get a peek inside Alan’s trunk to see what it might reveal. I didn’t ask how they were going to do that. Sometimes discretion is the better course.
Mom never said a word about any of this. Jacob must not have told her that he was tailing Alan. Apparently he was also still keeping tabs on Mom at every group meeting. I heard Mom tell Judy that she’d seen Jacob at the restaurant, but off to the side, and he always disappeared before she got out of the restaurant. Mom said she didn’t know if she was annoyed or flattered.
“I’ll tell you, Judy, even though the way he hovers makes me want to scream, I will admit it’s kind of nice to know he’s watching out for me. But there’s just too much going on in my life to deal with a man right now. It’s a free world, and if he wants to go to Apple-bee’s or the coffee shop, who am I to stop him?”
Maybe Jacob was keeping an eye on Alan at the meetings, not Mom.
Of course, I couldn’t attend the meetings. Unlike my European relatives who can go with their humans into many restaurants, Americans have this nutty thing about dogs being “dirty.” Meanwhile the guy in the kitchen didn’t wash his hands after he just got done scratching his. . . .
Oh, well, it’s your phobia not mine. Fortunately, after Mom got home, we could hear what had occurred while Mom transcribed her notes into a Dictaphone. That’s how we knew their sessions were back to the same boring old issues. It seemed everything was normal.
Except for Alan’s clandestine meetings in a parking lot.
T
wo months passed, during which nothing unusual happened.
Mom and Jacob seemed to have returned to a comfortable level of friendship. Jacob was obviously ignoring Mom romantically. I don’t know if it was a carefully planned maneuver or if he simply didn’t want to be rejected again, but there was nothing affectionate about him at all—no nuzzling, no kisses, and certainly no begging. Mom had begun to loosen up and occasionally she’d even put a hand on his arm as they talked. Maybe Mom didn’t like being ignored romantically. Maybe he was giving her a taste of her own medicine. I had my suspicions but figured these two humans were doing their own dance.
Quincy and I decided we’d both be wise to keep our noses out of it. Asking a dog to snitch on his human definitely was against
our
code.
But we still took care of business. Quincy kept me posted about Alan’s secret meetings. He still met the man every week. The pattern stayed the same. Quincy said nothing seemed to connect these meetings to Mom or the group. Jacob still had said nothing about them to Mom.
Jacob and Quincy did manage to get into Alan’s trunk. One afternoon while Alan was at work, Jacob walked down the street to where he’d seen Alan park his car. Jacob’s sneaker was untied. When he thought no one was watching, Jacob stopped next to the car’s front tire and appeared to be tying his shoe. But as he knelt down he also removed the air cap and wedged a pin down into the valve. He then continued walking. When Alan left work that day he saw the car tilting toward the curb. He started cussing a blue streak.
Jacob and Quincy were ready. They approached Alan. Jacob pretended he was out walking Quincy and had seen Alan having trouble. “Hi, Alan. What’s the problem. You remember me? I’m a friend of Dr. Richards. I used to accompany her to the restaurant each week for the therapy sessions. This here is Quincy. What happened to your tire?”
“Some son of a bitch let the air, out that’s what happened. I swear this neighborhood is going downhill fast. Like I really need this shit! I’m dressed for work, not garage duty!”
“Yeah, changing a tire can be mighty dirty work. Hey, I’ll be glad to help you. Do you have a spare in the trunk?”
“Yeah, sure I do. Would you really help me change it? I’m terrible at such things. All thumbs.” Alan was sounding a whole lot sweeter as he walked around the car and unlocked the trunk.
When the trunk was popped open, Jacob saw nothing incriminating. The trunk was empty, except for an empty wine box. While Alan watched Jacob change the tire at the front of the car, Quincy quietly leaped into the open trunk and sniffed around.
“Spunky, I might’ve missed something,” he told me later. “I’m not a trained drug dog, but I didn’t smell anything unusual in that trunk. It just smelled musty—like a basement. There were the normal smells of groceries and some spilled washer fluid, but that was it. Sorry, I was hoping to bring you a big, fat clue!”