Uttering Threats

Driving a pickup truck wasn’t all that bad. It was easy to get in and out of for someone over seven feet tall, lots of legroom in the extended cab, and the gas mileage wasn’t so bad. Nelson did all right. Make no mistake, Gord was still livid over him losing the merchandise from the jewellery store heist, but he had redeemed himself a little.

With the vehicle issue settled, it was time to make the little man and his dog pay for their interference. Nobody had the stones to stand up to the three-man crew before, and Gord was determined to retire with his legacy intact. They would not be taken down by a shrimp and his wrinkly dog.

The Magic Men had spent the last four days cruising the streets of Alliston, trying to spot the man. Gord knew it would be as difficult as spotting Earle’s mom on a dairy farm, but they’d have to lie low for a while, so he figured they might as well use the time to dish out some retribution. With no heists possible for at least a few weeks, and knowing everyone was on high alert, they had to make use of their time somehow.

Cruising the streets of the small town was enough to make a grown man gag. The bucolic crescents, parents and kids skipping along together, people walking their beloved dogs—a bond Gord would never understand—and neighbours waving at each other as they went past. Gord didn’t see the slightest appeal in living somewhere like that—where everyone had their noses in each other’s business. That was why he and his guys were in their predicament in the first place. Small-town folks didn’t know how to keep to themselves.

One way or another, they’d send a message that would have the entire town turning their backs because they’d be too scared to get in The Magic Men’s way.

Scarlett was still steaming over the events of the past weekend. She couldn’t believe Justin took that smelly, slobbering dog out for a date instead of her. It felt like her husband had another woman, but instead of a leggy blonde secretary, it was a stumpy, wrinkly canine with offensive breath and a gas leak.

Karma had been going to work with Justin most days because the guys in the office liked having her around for whatever reason—apparently dead fish breath is the way to those men’s hearts, but they’re plumbers so maybe their sense of smell was impaired. Today, however, she was at home. Justin had to do some work in a high-end home, and no one else would be available to keep Karma company at the office. God forbid the dog had to stay alone for a minute.

As Scarlett watched the dog’s partially open eyes flicker back and forth while she yipped and barked in her sleep, she felt more resentful by the second. Things weren’t great with her and Justin before the dog came around, but the past few months had been even worse, and her husband was oblivious to why Scarlett was so angry. She decided it was time to teach him a lesson.

“Karma.” Scarlett clapped in Karma’s face to wake her from her perch on the sofa. “Get up, you dumb dog.”

Karma pulled her dangling tongue back in, making a repulsive smacking sound as she opened and closed her mouth, then dropped her front legs onto the floor. She walked herself out slowly until she was extended in a plank position, stretching with her back legs still on the sofa. Once she had achieved an optimal stretch, she released a loud fart that turned Scarlett’s nose up in disgust.

“Ugh. You are nasty. I’ll never understand what Justin sees in you.” She clapped in Karma’s face again. “Come on. It’s time for you to leave. I’ve had enough of you.” With a bit of coaxing, Scarlett got Karma to the front door, opened it, and shooed the dog outside. She was hopeful that with any luck, the dog would run away, never to be seen again.

Scarlett felt guilty for a fleeting moment because she knew how much her son loved the stupid dog too, but he was young; he’d get over it. She slammed the door shut, dusted off her hands after a job well done, and went to get the vacuum to clean all traces of the dog from her life.

Gord was pretty sure they’d covered 98% of the area in this blasted town with no signs of their offender. He was losing hope, but his rage had yet to be extinguished, pushing him to continue. The fire burning inside of him was too intense to let a few days of no results make him give up. There had been jobs he spent weeks casing before they got the final payout, and if this had to be the same way, so be it.

They turned onto a crescent in an older subdivision with cookie-cutter houses in various shades of orange brick. There were barely any trees lining the street because the houses were so crammed together, there wasn’t enough room for foliage. The monotony of it all also made Gord want to gag. His life of crime had been exciting and fruitful, so he’d never have to live in a place where he couldn’t recognize his own house after a few drinks.

They passed by a house with an old lady outside mowing her lawn, and Gord was impressed by her determination. She must have been in her 90s, with a hunched back and a head of curly white hair. Her skin looked weathered, as if she had spent a lot of time outside, but it was hard not to admire her work ethic; even for someone as cold-hearted as Gord.

Distracted by the old lady, all three men nearly missed the break they’d been waiting for. In front of a two-toned brick house with a minivan in the driveway sat a slobbery, wrinkly dog that was quite familiar.

They circled around the block so they could stop in front of the house, making their escape easier. Logic would have encouraged them to come back after dark, but with the dog out in the open and no threats around, the opportunity seemed too good to pass up. Most people were at work throughout the day and the old lady wouldn’t be any trouble.

Gord instructed Earle to stay in the car behind the driver’s seat while he and Nelson went to “deal with the dog.” After that, they’d have no more interference. They were going to send a message loud and clear.

The stupid dog was wagging her tail as the men approached, with her tongue hanging out and shoestring drool dripping from her jowls.

The big man decided she had to be the worst guard dog in the history of time. When he was only a few feet away, just steps from the porch, Gord reached out his hand to charm the dog. “Hey there, girl. Who’s a pretty doggy?” He continued walking forward with Nelson less than a metre behind him, and the dog didn’t so much as budge, aside from her wagging tail. Gord placed one foot on the porch stairs, then another, and with no resistance, he was standing mere inches from the useless pooch.

Before he got an inch closer, the dog turned from Lassie to Cujo, bared her teeth, and started barking a loud, reverberating bark that could rattle the windows. She was relentless, with her dangling drool foaming and flinging several feet in each direction, despite Gord’s hurried attempts to hush her. He discovered the dog wasn’t going to be as easy to deal with as he thought. He spun on his heel to run back down the stairs, not realizing Nelson was right behind him. The smaller man landed on his back on the brick pathway as Gord plowed into him while running for cover. Gord muttered to himself, “This isn’t the army.” There was no honour among thieves, so no shame in leaving a man behind. Before he reached the end of the driveway, even with his long strides, the dog jumped on him, but thanks to his hulking size, she couldn’t knock him down. Her relentless barking, however, was attracting far more attention than they needed.

Before Nelson even picked himself up off the ground, the front door of the house opened and a beautiful blonde woman sporting a scowl and yoga pants yelled, “Karma!”

Both escaping criminals took that to mean, “What goes around, comes around.” As if this dog’s interference was their comeuppance. Nelson took off running back to the truck.

Gord’s temper rose, and vicious dog or not, he was going to make this chaos worth it. He turned to face the woman and shouted back, “Tell your little man to stay out of our business, or next time you won’t be so lucky.”

Scarlett was busy vacuuming inside, had music playing in the background, and was humming along while she worked to rid her house of all traces of that dog. She intended on pretending like that chapter of their lives never happened.

For the first time in months, Scarlett was at peace in her own home, feeling no remorse over sending Karma out to live a life on the streets. Just as the chorus of one of Scarlett’s favourite songs came on—one she intended to belt out like she was auditioning for Simon Cowell—the dumb dog started barking on the porch.

Irritation was not the right word to explain how Scarlett was feeling. Pure, unadulterated rage coursed through her veins, and when the barking continued for several minutes, she decided to go tell the dog to keep quiet.

She opened the door and yelled, “Karma!” What she saw surprised her as Karma was racing down the driveway after an unnaturally tall man with hair the colour of their neighbour’s orange-brick house. She was just about to fetch the dog when she spotted another man get up from the pathway in front of the porch and run toward a black pickup truck parked along the curb.

“Tell your little man to stay out of our business, or next time you won’t be so lucky,” the tall man warned. Then he pushed the dog off of him and jumped into the truck with the other man. A third man must have been in the driver’s seat, because they peeled away in a hurry.

Scarlett stood, shaking on the front porch, as it dawned on her what had just happened. Stupid Justin and his stupid street gang.

After a few moments, while still in shock, June, from two doors down, came over to ask Scarlett if she was okay. The woman grew up in a crime-riddled area of the city, so things like this were nothing new to her. She would have whacked all three men with a shovel before they even had a chance to swipe her purse, then went and sat down for tea and crumpets.

Crime was something Scarlett had never come face-to-face with before, and this was too close to home in every sense, so her reaction was the complete opposite. If the dog hadn’t driven them off, who knows what they would have done to her. Considering that was all she needed for tears to fall.

June sat in the wooden chair on the porch beside Scarlett and reached out to take her hand. “I pressed the emergency button on my Medic Alert. The police will be here in a moment.”

A meek nod was all Scarlett could manage as she wiped the tears from her cheeks. Just to add insult to injury, Karma made her way onto the porch and rested her head on Scarlett’s knees, looking up at her with sad eyes. For the first time in the several months since Justin brought Karma home, Scarlett patted her on the head. The dog’s soft fur and dopey face helped to calm Scarlett’s racing heart and steady her breathing.

An OPP cruiser pulled up in front of her house and two uniformed officers climbed out—one tall, lean man with umber skin and cropped black hair, and an average height curvy woman with a long brown ponytail and fair skin. They both look friendly, but most importantly, they made Scarlett feel safer.