Thumps took his time walking to the office. The sun was out. Not too hot. Not too cold. No sign of rain. And best of all, no wind. A Goldilocks day. Everything just right. There was a moment, as he got to the door, when he entertained the idea of continuing to walk. Past the office. Down the block. Out of town.
Walk to someplace other than here.
DEANNA HEAVY RUNNER was at the desk, staring intently at the monitor.
Thumps came around, looked over her shoulder.
“TikTok?” “TikTok’s got a lot of good information.” Deanna made a face. “What happened to my Jenga game?”
“Bottom drawer,” said Thumps. “Duke is thinking about sending it to Macy’s sister.”
“She the one didn’t want Duke at the memorial service?”
“Does TikTok give us the name of our car thief ?”
“Cooley’s case.” Deanna looked up from the monitor. “Big guy did a nice redecorating job on the holding cell. I could see spending a weekend there.”
“Cooley in the holding cell?”
“Nope,” said Deanna. “Sheriff’s currently in residence.”
“He’s sleeping in the holding cell?”
“Not anymore.” Duke came out of the back room, stretching and walking at the same time. “Could you two make more noise?”
“Morning, sheriff,” said Deanna.
“You make fresh coffee?”
“You told me not to.” Deanna stuck a finger down her throat. “Some bullshit about coffee needing to mature.”
“I saw that.” Duke went to the percolator, poured himself a cup. “You realize that the holding cell has cable?”
“I’m hoping to get a turn,” said Thumps.
“As well as Amazon and Netflix.” Duke shook his head. “I don’t have Amazon at home. You know why?”
Deanna raised her hand. “Because Amazon froze your account, and since they don’t have customer service, you can’t talk to anyone to get the problem straightened out.”
Duke nodded. “And?”
“Because the company is a corporate maggot feeding on the living body of humanity.”
“Are you making fun of me, Deputy Heavy Runner?”
“No, sir.” Deanna kept the same robotic tone in her voice. “Just quoting you.”
Duke turned to Thumps. “Is she still probationary?”
“No,” said Thumps. “Deputy Heavy Runner is a permanent employee.”
“So, I can’t fire her?”
“You can fire Deputy Small Elk,” said Deanna. “He’s still probationary.”
“Damn.”
Thumps took the T-shirt out of his bag and handed it to Duke. “PGA qualifying round. Wutty Youngbeaver is playing. We’re supposed to show up wearing the shirts. For support.”
“The hell you say?”
“And there’s a chant.”
Duke took his cup, headed back to the holding cell.
Deanna waited. Then she turned to Thumps. “You think he forgot his shirt on purpose?”
Thumps folded the shirt neatly, set it on the desk.
“He back on the job?”
“Not sure he knows,” said Thumps. “So, we’ll just stumble on regardless.”
“I’m guessing the first order of business is locating this Nora Gage.”
Thumps turned the puzzle over in his mind. “Why would a retired customs officer come to Chinook, rent a house on the river, and then disappear without a trace?”
“Don’t forget Greeley and the dog.”
“Greeley’s in the morgue, and the dog, like Gage, is missing.”
“The dog’s easy,” said Deanna. “Either Gage took it with her or she didn’t.”
It took a moment for Thumps to see what Deanna saw. “Deputy Heavy Runner, I think you’ve just won first prize in the detecting sweepstakes.”
“If first prize is a free cup of that coffee . . .”
“If you’re right,” said Thumps, “I was thinking more along the lines of the holding cell for a weekend.”
“If Duke ever moves out.” Deanna settled herself behind the desk. “What about your buddy Cisco Cruz?”
“He’s not my buddy.”
“Appears to be part of our puzzle. We know where he is?”
That seemed to be the central question. Where was everyone? Nora Gage. Cisco Cruz. Howdy, the dog.
“Gage could have left town,” said Deanna. “That would seem to be the obvious answer.”
Thumps went to the table, lifted the percolator to his nose, set it back down. “You look for Gage. I’ll look for the dog.”
“You don’t think Gage kept the dog?”
“Hard to move quickly with a dog. Hard to be invisible with a pet.”
“Especially a large one,” said Deanna. “Greeley thought the hound was a bear.”
“There’s that.”
“And Cruz?”
Thumps set his hat on his head and made for the door. “If I know Cisco, he’ll find me.”
THE CHINOOK HUMANE SOCIETY was on the southeast edge of town, in what was supposed to be an industrial park, a section of land that the city council, in an optimistic moment, had set aside for various manufacturing and trade concerns that they hoped would come to town.
The building itself was a modest concrete-block rectangle with a red metal roof that looked as though it might have once been a drive-in theatre snack shack. There was a large sign at the entrance that said “You Can’t Buy Love, But You Can Rescue It.”
There was an animal print in the middle of the sign. Thumps couldn’t tell if it was a dog print or some other animal. He had seen the muddy tracks on his floor that Freeway and Cookie had made, as they came in through the cat door after enjoying a fun afternoon in mud puddles.
Whatever had made the print on the sign, it wasn’t a cat.
The young woman at the desk was probably still in high school. Thumps supposed that animal shelters had the same funding problems as daycare centres and homeless shelters.
“Hi, can I help you?”
“Sheriff DreadfulWater.” Thumps flashed his badge. Showing off. One of the guilty pleasures of law enforcement.
“Ariella Hoy. Aren’t you the photographer? Did Sheriff Hockney retire?”
There was a plate of cupcakes on the counter next to a homemade sign. Chocolate with chocolate frosting. Four dollars apiece.
“Acting sheriff,” said Thumps. “You related to Dr. Hoy?”
“My grandmother,” said Ariella. “And you didn’t need to come. We’ve decided not to press charges. There was some breakage, but Rocky has expressed remorse and has promised to pay for the damage.”
“Rocky being . . .”
“A raccoon.”
“So, you’re putting me on.”
Ariella smiled. “Things can get really slow around here.”
Somewhere at the back of the building, Thumps could hear barking.
“Let me guess,” said Ariella. “You’re here about a dog. You look like a dog person.”
“Cats,” said Thumps. “Two of them.”
“No problem,” said Ariella. “Contrary to popular myths, dogs and cats get along together just fine. Did you get your kitties from us?”
Thumps could feel the slope slipping under his feet. “I don’t want a dog,” he said quickly. “What I need to know is if an older woman brought a dog in. Probably yesterday. Large dog. Cross between a bear and a half-ton.”
“Does a foster return count?”
“Foster return?”
“The shelter can’t handle all the animals that people decide they don’t want,” said Ariella, “so we try to foster out as many as we can.”
“So, you did get a dog yesterday?”
“Howdy,” said Ariella. “More buffalo than bear.”
“And the woman?”
“Bonnie. Barbara,” said Ariella.
“Nora?”
Ariella worked the keyboard. “You’re right. Nora. Nora Gage. She only had Howdy for a couple of weeks. You want to see him?”
THERE WERE SEVEN dogs in the holding area. None of them looked happy. All of them began barking frantically as soon as Ariella and Thumps came through the door.
Howdy was in a cage with a blanket and just enough room to turn around. As soon as the dog saw Thumps, he leaped up and began barking, his tail whacking the bars. Not bars exactly. Wire mesh. But the same effect.
“He knows you,” said Ariella. “He likes you.”
“I think he likes everyone.”
“He’s such a good boy.” Ariella squatted down. “Aren’t you the good boy?”
“Kinda small cage for a large dog.”
“We’re fundraising to build an outdoor kennel.”
“How’s it going?”
“Remember what the new mayor said about the proposal for the new library?”
Barney Tingle, who owned Barney’s Barbeque Bar and Grill in town, had ridden into office on a four-pronged platform. Throw the bastards out, no new taxes, cut all social programs, run the city like a business.
“ ‘People who read don’t work.’ ” Ariella put a hand up against the wire. “You believe anyone would say that? A fruit fly has a bigger brain.”
Barney’s Barbeque Bar and Grill was the fifth business Tingle had tried to start in Chinook. The first four had disappeared in a flurry of bankruptcies.
“There was a guy with the woman,” said Ariella. “If that’s important.”
“You saw him?”
“No,” said Ariella. “He stayed in the car.”
“So, how do you know it was a guy?”
“The car. Tricked-out Mustang. Jet black with tinted windows. A guy car.”
“You get a licence plate number?”
“Is Howdy a material witness to a crime?”
As soon as Howdy heard his name, he banged up against the sides of the cage, began turning circles, whining.
“More a person of interest,” said Thumps.
“Then you better arrest him.”
Thumps couldn’t help the smile. “I’m not going to arrest a dog.”
“Okay,” said Ariella, “then take him into protective custody.”
Howdy sat back, his tongue lolling out of his mouth, and waited.
“And don’t forget to buy a cupcake,” said Ariella. “Four bucks. Every little bit helps.”
THUMPS WASN’T EXACTLY sure how it happened. What he did know was that when he pulled out of the parking lot, Howdy the dog was in the back, and there were two chocolate cupcakes on the passenger seat.
The dog hung his head out the rear window, let the wind blow ropes of dog slobber all along the flank of the car. Every so often, he would let loose a long yowl of glee.
As though he were a kid on a swing.
DEANNA HEAVY RUNNER looked up when Thumps and Howdy came into the office.
“You got a dog?”
Thumps set the cupcakes on the desk. Howdy padded over, put his head in Deanna’s lap.
“No,” said Thumps. “He’s a material witness. Or something.”
Deanna picked up one of the cupcakes, took a bite. “What? We got a dog-lending library that I don’t know about?”
“I found him at the shelter. Gage dropped him off. Seems she was fostering the mutt.”
Howdy moaned, came away from Deanna, leaned against Thumps’s leg.
“You’ve hurt his feelings,” said Deanna. “Calling him a mutt. Now you’re going to have to apologize.”
Howdy began licking Thumps’s fingers.
“See that?” said Deanna. “Who’s the bigger man?”
“Did you make any headway with finding Nora Gage?”
Deanna set the cupcake to one side. “Did a lot of eliminating. She’s not staying at Shadow Ranch. Not at the Tucker. Not at Buffalo Mountain. Working my way through the lesser establishments, but no luck so far.”
“She may be using a different name.”
“Thought of that,” said Deanna, “so I’m asking about older single women who arrived in the last couple of days.”
Thumps’s fingers were wet and dripping.
“And I told Cooley to be on the lookout for a late-model black Mustang. I figure if your buddy arrived with the woman, he might still be hanging with her.”
“He’s not my buddy.”
“What you going to do with the dog?”
“Duke still here?”
“You’re going to try to give the dog to Duke.” Deanna snorted. “That I want to see.”
“Is he here?”
“Nope,” said Deanna. “You just missed him.”
“Okay, maybe you could . . .”
Deanna held up her hands. “Don’t even think about it.”
“I can’t take a dog home. The cats will go crazy.”
“Take him over to Duke’s.” Deanna was enjoying the idea. “Open the door. Throw the pooch in. With any luck the two of them will bond. And if it doesn’t work out, what’s the worst the sheriff can do?”
Thumps thought about that for a moment.
“He could fire you,” said Deanna. “And where’s the harm in that?”
Thumps nodded. “Win, win.”
“Jesus.” Deanna waved a hand across her face. “Did the mutt just fart?”