I was looking into the drawn faces of some very unhappy people. Sitting in Joe Warner’s comfortable living room, I couldn’t look away.
Against the backdrop of pale blue walls, normally a calming color, a tiny woman with dyed red hair, a wild flaming color, sat with hands primly folded in her lap. Her left eye twitched and despite a faint floral scent in the air, had a scrunched nose. Something wasn’t to her liking. Tessa Desmond had been telling me about her dog, a Pomeranian named Spanky, who had disappeared from her fenced front yard two weeks ago. Joe pushed a box of tissues on the coffee table in her direction. She plucked one to dab her moist eyes.
I thanked Mrs. Desmond for her story and turned to the couple on the couch in front of me. They didn’t look very eager to share what they knew. The man, Tom Brewer, introduced himself and his wife Emma. A nice-looking man with graying hair and a slight paunch darted wary eyes from Joe to me. He didn’t seem to trust me but was taking his cues from Mr. Warner. Emma constantly fluffed her dark bangs and bit her lip. A slight line of pink still showed at the edges of her mouth where her lipstick hadn’t been bitten off. Her nervous movements mirrored Tessa Desmond’s.
“So Mr. Brewer,” I began, “could you tell me about the day your dog disappeared?”
He swallowed hard. The Adam’s apple on his throat moved up and down. With a glance at his wife, his tight lips parted. “Our dogs, Jack and Bella, both Yorkshire Terriers about two years old, were playing in the front yard.” He looked over at Tessa. “All the neighborhood dogs know one another and we’d just taken them for a walk around the block. Everything was normal.”
Emma nodded. “We babysit Joe’s dog, Winston, occasionally when he goes out of town so we’re friendly with most of our neighbors and their pets.”
They looked at one another, then at Tessa and Joe. I knew they’d need a little prompting. This was hard. I didn’t even want to imagine losing my precious Baskerville.
“When was this?”
“Last week. The day before Joe’s dog went missing,” said Tom. “Probably around seven or so.”
“Night?” I asked.
“Yes, around dusk. We could see outside so it wasn’t dark yet.”
“Any street traffic? Cars? People walking by?”
He nodded. “I glanced out our front window and saw the dogs in the front yard chasing a ball around. There were a few cars on the street but no people that I remember.” He looked at his wife. “Emma?”
“I’d taken some trash out to the cans by the side of the garage and did see a man and a woman walking down the sidewalk. They could see me and waved hello before reaching in to pet Jack.”
“Someone petted the dog that night?” he asked anxiously.
“It all seemed innocent. The man patted Jack on the head, laughed and they walked off.”
“What did they look like?”
“Just a man and a woman. I’m not good at details and I didn’t get much of a look at them.”
“Did they leave the area?” I scooted a bit closer in my chair.
Emma shrugged, fluffed her bangs. “I didn’t stay that long. I dropped the trash can lid on the ground and was dealing with that. Then Tom yelled something out to me and I went back in the house.”
“How soon did you go out for the dogs?”
Tom’s eyes looked up. “Maybe fifteen minutes. It’s a fenced yard in plain sight. We never in the world thought there would be this kind of problem.”
“So you hadn’t heard about Mrs. Desmond’s dog yet?”
“No. We didn’t know until we put our missing dog flyer up on the utility pole and saw hers. Then we called her.”
I rubbed my chin in thought.
“And then Winston went missing the next night,” Joe volunteered. “I thought at first that he’d gotten loose from the yard because he’s been known to dig a few holes.” He smiled wanly at the group. “Tessa brought him back one time when he escaped to play with Spanky. Isn’t that right, Tessa?”
A tear rolled down her pale cheek but she nodded bravely. “That’s right, Joe. Winston’s a dear dog.”
In the silence that followed, all eyes turned to me. I felt like a person brought up on stage to perform a magic trick. Watch her pull four missing dogs out of her hat! Where was my Sherlock Holmes cap when I needed it?
Facts. Stick to facts.
Data, data, data. I must have clay to make bricks, Holmes says.
I stood up, smoothed the front of my jeans with sweaty hands. I really should have put on a nicer shirt before coming over. From the looks on their faces, my Grateful Dead tee shirt wasn’t winning any confidence contests. My face felt chilled when I pushed back strands of flyaway hair. I began to pace. Several steps in and I turned to the group.
“Let me get this straight.” I ticked off the points on my fingers. “All the dogs were in your front yards.” I held up one finger and the group nodded.
A second finger joined the first. “It happened just before dark.” Everyone nodded again.
My third finger shot up. “There was at least one vehicle on the street around the time you think it happened.” When I got their nod, I held up the fourth finger. “And a couple was seen walking the block. Correct?” Faces grim now, tight lips formed thin lines. A terse nod from Tom was all I got.
“What do you think, Lucy?” asked Joe. “Any hunches?” His red bow tie was gone now that he was home but the glasses still moved down his nose. “I told everyone how good you are at solving puzzles.”
I smiled. “Thanks for the vote of confidence, Mr. Warner. I just try to put facts together until they tell me something.”
“Are you getting anything now, Lucy?” asked Tessa.
“Not much, to tell you truth.” I looked around at falling faces. “But that’s the way it starts. I’ll need to check with a few more neighbors on your block and maybe the next one over. This could be happening on other blocks as well as yours.”
“Do you think someone’s kidnapping our dogs to sell them?” Emma shot me a scared look. “Jack and Bella have never been with anyone but us. I can’t think how awful it would be for them to…” She broke off and lunged for a tissue from the box. Tom put his arm around her and cleared his throat.
“Do you need anything else from us tonight, Lucy?” he asked. “We probably should get home. This has all been so upsetting.” He and Emma rose from the couch. Tessa joined them with a nod.
“I should go too. How should we do this?” She looked at me, then Joe.
“I’ll let Mr. Warner know what I’m doing and if I need any further information from you.” I smiled at them. “But don’t be surprised if you see me wandering the block, looking around and talking to people.”
Joe laughed, pushed back his glasses. “If you see a redhead in a deerstalker cap with a willowy blonde, rest assured it’s Lucy with her friend Cindy.”
Smiling slightly as if in pain, Tessa, Tom and Emma made their way to the front door. With Joe seeing them out, I plopped back on my chair and thought about what they’d said. Joe joined me a few minutes later.
“Sad group.”
“Absolutely,” he nodded. “Our dogs are our children, our companions. This is beyond upsetting—it’s heartbreaking. It would be like you losing…” he stopped, his face flushed.
“…Baskerville. I can finish that sentence for you.” I straightened. “Which goes a long way towards explaining why I’m so willing to help you.”
Joe licked his lips. Waited a beat. “What are you going to do?”
“One of my least favorite things,” I offered.
“What’s that?”
“A stakeout.”
* * *