Case of the Pilfered Pooches Read online

  “Have you noticed anyone else scoping the area out?”

  “Meaning, have I seen anyone with walkers or wheelchairs circling the block? No, I haven’t.”

  “Well, it’s easy to see why he didn’t go to the park today.”

  “What? Why?”

  “Think about it, Vance. If you knew there was a serial dognapper in PV, would you have willingly taken Anubis to the park?”

  “Point taken. Damn it. I really wanted to catch these ladies in the act.”

  “What do you say I go for a drive with my two favorite canine co-pilots? I could let you know if they spot anything.”

  “Hmm. At this point, I’ll take anything. Sure. Go ahead, pal.”

  I gathered up the dogs and loaded them in the Jeep.

  “Okay, you two. Work your magic. We’re looking for a Jack Russell Terrier. You know what they look like, don’t you?”

  I received two blank looks from the corgis. Now, I’m ashamed to say that I actually Googled the breed on my phone so that I could show my dogs a picture of another dog. Sherlock looked at me as though I had finally gone off the deep end. Watson simply ignored me.

  We spent the next half an hour driving around town. I was driving west, on Main Street, approaching 5th Street, when I got my first hit. Well, in this case, it’d be a ‘woof’. Sherlock sat up, woofed again, and then stepped up onto the window sill so he could see out the window. Intrigued, I checked to see what was around me.

  I shouldn’t have had to bother. This wasn’t the first time Sherlock had woofed at this particular intersection. It wasn’t the second, either. All told, it might be the fourth or fifth. Gary’s Grocery was on my right, about a block away. The empty space that used to be the Square L was also there. Then there was Harry’s office, the site where I had first adopted Sherlock last year. And, of course, right next to Harry’s office was Furs, Fins, & Feathers, PV’s one and only pet store. As you may recall, Sherlock has a history there, too.

  “You’re gonna have to be more specific, buddy,” I told the corgi. I started pointing at all the various places he’s shown interest in before. “The grocery store is over there. The convenience store has been torn down, but it used to be over there. Then we have…”

  I trailed off as I noticed Sherlock wasn’t paying me the slightest bit of attention. He was staring straight at the pet store. Was there something in there that needed to be checked out? Or was he trying to gross me out by saying he wanted another of those damn ‘pizzle’ chews?

  “Fine. We’ll take a look. All I ask is that you stay away from aisle 2, okay? The last thing I need right now is for either of you to pick out another animal part.”

  Just then, a foul, putrid stench wafted in front of my nose. I cursed silently and unlocked the power windows so I could roll them all down. Watson was panting contentedly.

  “That couldn’t have waited until you were outside?” I asked the timid red and white corgi. “You haven’t let one of those rip in a while, have you?”

  Watson had a tendency to eat too fast. When she did, she inadvertently would swallow air. The correct medical term for what would eventually happen is ‘flatulate’. In layman’s terms, it means she’ll end up farting to release the stored air. It’s not pleasant, no matter how you look at it.

  We were greeted by none other than the store owner himself, Justin Roesh. He had a huge grin on his face and instantly tried to direct me over to his aisle full of natural chews. Yep. Aisle 2.

  “Welcome back, Mr. Anderson. I am very pleased to see you here. May I assume that your two adorable dogs enjoyed the pizzles and pig ears?”

  “Yes, you may, but that’s not why we’re here. At least, I don’t think that’s why we’re here.”

  “What are you here for, then?” Justin curiously asked. “I can assure you that I have been paying all my bills in a timely manner.”

  “I know you have. I just wanted to see if there was anything else in this store that Sherlock might want to check out.”

  Much to my dismay, Sherlock and Watson both headed straight to the store’s second aisle. Watson trotted over to the whiskey barrel full of pig ears, selected one, and trotted back. Sherlock ignored the pig ears and, instead, thrust his snout into a different barrel, one full of those things.

  “Damn, Sherlock. I swear you like those things only because I absolutely hate them.”

  Justin laughed and rang up the order. As we turned to leave, I saw another customer approaching the door, holding a leash. I pulled my own two dogs to the side and held open the door.

  “Much obliged,” the middle-aged man said, as he offered me a smile. “Come, Winston.”

  My jaw dropped open as a little Jack Russell Terrier trotted in after his owner. He briefly sniffed noses with my two corgis before disappearing into the store. I stared incredulously down at Sherlock, who chose that time to look up at me. I swear he had a smug expression on his face.

  “How the hell do you keep doing that? Is that coincidence or did you know that was going to happen?”

  Sherlock’s jaws opened somewhat and he panted. He gave himself a vigorous shaking and then, seeing how I still hadn’t exited the pet store, slid into a sitting position. I stepped away from the door and pulled out my cell.

  “Hey, Zack. Did you find something?”

  “I think I have,” I excitedly told my friend as I lowered my voice. “A guy with a Jack Russell Terrier just came in the store.”

  “What?! What store?”

  “Furs, Fins, & Feathers. Sherlock wanted to come in here, and I’m not sure if he wanted another chew toy or if he knew that guy would appear. Either way, I’m almost 99% certain that it’s the guy we’re looking for.”

  “Excellent work, Zack! I’ll be right…”

  “Holy shit!” I interrupted.

  “What? What is it??”

  “Vance, two older ladies just parked in a convertible VW Bug next to my Jeep.”

  “So?”

  “They haven’t got out of the car yet. They’re presently staring inside the store.”

  “Do you think they’re part of that screwball dog club?”

  “Without a doubt. They look like… uh, oh. They just spotted me. Vance, they’re leaving!”

  “I’m heading out the door right now. Do you think you can follow?”

  “I’m putting the phone down. I have to load Sherlock and Watson. Come on, you two. Daddy gets to be part of a high speed chase!”

  Some high speed chase. Two old ladies in a Volkswagen convertible? I think their top speed was probably 25 mph. Plus, I don’t even think they noticed I was following them.

  “Where are you now?” Vance asked, nearly five minutes later.

  “The same place I was ten minutes ago. Traveling west, on Main.”

  “Main isn’t that long. How can you still be on the same street?”

  “Because they stopped at Wired Coffee & Café to get a latte.”

  “Ha, ha, Zack.”

  “Dude, I’m not making that up. They stopped for a friggin’ latte.”

  “Do they not know you’re following them?”

  “I honestly don’t think they have a clue.”

  “Any idea where they’re going?”

  “Actually, I have a pretty good idea where they’re going. We seem to be heading towards Mrs. Barterson’s house.”

  “Hah! I knew it! This isn’t going to end well for them.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I’m at Mrs. Barterson’s house.”

  “Sweet. Hey, I see you now.”

  “And I see you. They haven’t noticed me yet. When they do, I’ll… nope. There they go. They were starting to pull in and now they’re heading back out. They won’t make it far.”

  They didn’t. Vance and his fellow officers had the car pulled over in less than sixty seconds. He texted me to let me know he was taking them to the station. Then he invited me and the dogs to tag along. Who was I to turn down an interrogation? Especially when I wasn’t
the one being questioned?

  Vance was waiting for me just outside of interrogation room 2. He didn’t look pleased.

  “Just got the call. Records says that there isn’t anyone with the first name ‘Edith’ living anywhere around that park.”

  “Damn,” I swore.

  “There are three Ediths living in the PV area. None are close to the park. We’ve already sent black and white units out there to check them out.”

  “Perfect. I hope they find something.”

  “Me, too.” Vance looked at the closed interrogation door then back at me. “Come on. Let’s go ruin their day, shall we? You watch from the viewing room.”

  “Got it.”

  “We’re very sorry,” one of the ladies said, once Vance had taken a seat at the table.

  The bright lights of the bleak interrogation room shone mercilessly down upon the two senior citizens. From the other side of the glass, I shook my head. I don’t think I’ve ever seen two people more out of place than those two. They looked like they should be playing bingo, or bridge, or any number of other activities that old people do. Then again, I really didn’t know what senior citizens did for fun.

  “It never should have gotten this carried away,” the other added.

  “Then why’d you do it?” Vance asked. He glanced once at the huge mirror where myself and several others were sitting and observing the proceedings. “And you’d better not tell me that you have no idea.”

  The two women shared a nervous look. Vance sighed, glanced once at the open manila folder sitting on the table, and then looked at the woman with her long white hair up in a high ponytail. He pulled out his chair and sat down.

  “Mrs. Mary Murtaugh. Ms. Rochelle Lindstrom. Let’s start with you. Ms. Lindstrom. Would you care to tell me why you were following Mr. Woolson?”

  “We weren’t going to hurt his dog,” Mrs. Murtaugh haughtily exclaimed, before Ms. Lindstrom could utter a word. “Contrary to what you might have heard, we’re not monsters.”

  “Oh, yeah?” Vance challenged. “Care to tell me where my dog is? Do you remember the German Shepherd? That’s Anubis. He’s my dog. Where is he?”

  “He’s safe,” Rochelle said, in a soft voice.

  “And how in the world did you manage to take Anubis without him putting up a fight?” Vance inquired. “I don’t care if you gave him a whole bag of those ‘dog relaxant’ chews. You’ll tell me or else I’ll…”

  “You’ll what?” Mary sneered. “Please, Detective. You can’t threaten us. What do you possibly think you could do to the two of us? We’re old. We’ve each had wonderfully full lives.”

  “They’re not planning on divulging what they did with the dogs,” I murmured. “Unbelievable.”

  Captain Nelson grunted as he entered the room from my left.

  “So,” Vance continued, “you’re telling me you’re willing to sacrifice what’s left of your lives because you don’t want to return these dogs to their rightful owners?”

  “Those dogs are going to be well cared for,” Rochelle insisted. Her voice had started to quaver.

  Vance zeroed in on the change of tone and directed his full attention on her.

  “Will be? Will be?? So, that’s your game. You plan on giving those dogs to someone else? I’ll be damned. Zack was right all along.”

  “Damn right I was,” I chuckled softly.

  “For once,” Captain Nelson muttered.

  My smile disappeared. Thankfully, I heard the captain chuckle good-naturedly.

  “We’re going to get those dogs back,” Vance vowed. “You’re going to tell me where my dog is, as well as all the other missing dogs. And, you’re going to tell me now.”

  Rochelle nervously looked at her companion, who frowned and shook her head.

  “No, we won’t,” Mary argued.

  “Get Mrs. Murtaugh out of here,” Vance suddenly snapped. “I want to talk to Ms. Lindstrom by herself.”

  For the first time, Mary Murtaugh’s composure slipped. For a brief moment, I saw a nervous, frightened old woman. Then she strengthened her resolve and the angry sneer was back.

  “Where are the dogs?” Vance soothingly asked, once Ms. Lindstrom’s struggling companion had been removed. “What’s going on here? Why take all these dogs?”

  “We were just following orders,” Rochelle quietly began. “We were told the new recruits needed to prove their mettle. So, each recruit had to demonstrate they were willing to join the ranks of the Mini Me’s.”

  “By stealing dogs,” Vance guessed.

  “One dog per recruit,” Rochelle sadly confirmed. “Many of us were against it, but in the end, our objections were ignored.”

  “I wonder whose order it was,” I mused to myself from inside the observation room.

  Captain Nelson tapped me on the shoulder and pointed at the microphone. I do believe the good captain wanted me to be the one to relay the question to Vance! Excited, I seated myself before the antique-looking microphone and nervously hit the button.

  “Who gave the order?” I asked Vance.

  Vance briefly glanced at the mirror before dropping his gaze back to Ms. Lindstrom.

  “Under whose order? The club president?”

  “Mrs. Reezen?” I asked as I turned to the captain, appalled.

  “Mrs. Reezen?” Captain Nelson repeated, puzzled. “I hope not. I know the Reezens personally.”

  “With the president out of town,” Rochelle continued, “leadership of the club was temporarily handed to the vice-president.”

  I groaned, “Crap. It must be. The principal told me his wife was visiting a relative out of town.”

  Vance scribbled some notes and eventually looked up, “And that is?”

  “Mrs. Gertrude Barterson.”

  “So, you’re telling me this is all Mrs. Barterson’s idea? Taking the dogs?”

  Rochelle sadly nodded, “Mrs. Barterson has always wanted the responsibility of managing the club. Why, I’m not sure. It’s a lot of work.”

  “Mrs. Barterson, huh?”

  Rochelle nodded, “Yes. Do you know her?”

  Vance briefly glanced up at the mirror before nodding, “We’ve met, yes.”

  “Mrs. Barterson didn’t take the news too well that the reigning poodle failed to defend her title of Grand Champion last month during Medford’s Dog Show.”

  “It’s just a dog show,” Vance exclaimed, bewildered. “Don’t you think you people take these things a little too seriously?”

  Rochelle shrugged, “Perhaps. But then again, what else do we have to do? Practically all of us are retired. We needed something to do in order to keep us entertained.”

  “It’s a lousy way to do it,” Vance grumbled.

  Rochelle immediately blushed, “I’m sorry, Detective. I didn’t mean to imply that the only reason this happened was because we were bored. Mrs. Barterson claimed she knew of families in need. She knew of families who had children who desperately needed a family pet. So, we were ‘killing two birds with one stone’, she said.”

  “Let’s go ahead and bring Mrs. Barterson in here,” Vance said, as he looked up at the one-way mirror. “Ms. Lindstrom, go on.”

  “Once we received our sixth recruit, Mrs. Barterson claimed she had an idea about how to make sure the Mini Me’s only accepted the most dedicated members.”

  “By stealing dogs,” Vance whispered.

  Rochelle’s head hung in shame.

  “I’m sorry to say that I went along with this ruse. I helped take the first dog, a beautiful chocolate Labrador. She was so friendly. I began to doubt our intentions as I heard her owner frantically calling out to her, but Mrs. Barterson assured me what we were doing was just.”

  “You mean, it was ‘just’ plain wrong,” I grumbled to myself.

  Captain Nelson grunted once in agreement.

  “How were you able to carry that Labrador out of the park?” Vance asked. “That dog had to be over 50 pounds!”

  “She was such a frie
ndly thing,” Rochelle recalled. “All I had to do was slip a leash on her, give her a treat and a pat on the back, and she willingly followed us back to our car, in the other direction.”

  “And my Anubis?” Vance asked, his voice dropping to a dangerous level.

  “Tell him to be careful,” Captain Nelson quietly instructed. “Tell him if he can’t stay objective, then I’ll find someone else to conduct the interview.”

  “Watch yourself, pal,” I told Vance through the microphone. “Captain Nelson says you need to stay objective at all times.”

  We watched Vance slowly nod and take a couple of deep breaths.

  “Ms. Lindstrom? Please answer the question. How is it that you were able to persuade my German Shepherd, a dog whom I know doesn’t like strangers, to go with you?”

  “Oh, that was Mrs. Murtaugh’s recruit. She told the rest of us that they weren’t able to persuade your dog to go with them. So, he had to be carried.”

  “Okay, I’m having a hard time picturing that,” Vance admitted as he sat back at the table. “No offense, Ms. Lindstrom, but you and Mrs. Murtaugh don’t seem to be able to lift that much.”

  Rochelle Lindstrom nodded, “True. Thankfully, Mrs. Murtaugh’s recruit was much younger and much stronger than any of us. She was able to carry him.”

  “And what about his bark?” Vance asked, bewildered. “There’s no way Anubis would allow himself to be carried like that without putting up a fuss. I’m actually surprised he didn’t bite anyone.”

  “The only thing I know is that he had to be muzzled.”

  “You muzzled my dog? I can’t believe you muzzled my dog. I’m gonna personally…”

  I felt another tap on my shoulder.

  “You’d better remind him again,” Captain Nelson advised in a quiet voice.

  “Keep your cool, Vance,” I repeated into the microphone. “Don’t lose it now.”

  “I want my dog back, lady. So do the rest of the owners. Where are they?”

  There was a light knock on the door. The captain and I turned to see who it was. A uniformed officer poked his head in the room.

  “A woman is here to see you, Captain.”

  “Tell her I’m busy.”

  “She says it’s urgent. It’s regarding this dognapping business.”