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ZEUS DARTED UP THE boulders by the pond with breathtaking agility, and Bertie, slowed by old injuries, gallantly followed. I recalled them and had them walk in tandem to the obstacle course at the rehabilitation center.
I let Bertie lie in a sunny spot while I ran Zeus over a series of jumps over sawhorses.
“Kreich,” I said, and he dropped and crawled beneath the sawhorses. “Holy shit.” I wished I could have seen Bertie at this age, because I knew he must have been glorious. My phone buzzed and I threw the tennis ball to Zeus before answering it. “Kenzie! You’re supposed to be back already.”
“I am back already, but I’m not coming any closer until you confine Devil Dog.”
I spun around and spotted my sister standing outside the gate. “Give me a minute,” and I threw the ball a few more times for the Dutchie before leaving him at the obstacle course with Bertie.
I let Kenzie in and hugged her tight. “I’ve missed you, baby. Did you have a good time?”
“I had a great time. The workshop was good, and our room had an amazing view over the city. Christopher made reservations in this tiny, wonderful French restaurant.”
My gut clenched with anxiety. “So things went well?”
“Things always go well with him. But things were more romantic, you know? No, you probably don’t, but they were. Do you want to tell me why Devil Dog is still here?”
The big shepherds were playing chase around the obstacle course. “He’s the sheriff’s new search and rescue dog. Zeus has mad Schutzhund skills, and he must have been going crazy locked inside a crackhouse.”
“Mad what skills? Nevermind. Our insurance is high already, and don’t know the history of this monster.”
“I do know Zeus’s history. Someone, probably his breeder, pre-screened him for this training because he displayed an aptitude for a range of difficult tasks. He’s got stamina, play drive, balance, and focus. Since you’re here, I can begin practicing live finds. Jaison refuses to set a trail and be my target.”
“Gee, I wonder why the black kid doesn’t want to be hunted by a psycho attack dog. Neither does this white girl, so get that craptastic idea out of your head.”
“I wonder what it would cost to fix our tractor. I’d like to build a serious obstacle course.”
“It’s cheaper if you to keep ‘borrowing’ them. That’s a joke, Maddie. Please don’t do that again. Did anything else happen while I was gone?”
“Dr. Ben neutered Zeus.”
“Anything not having to do with Devil Dog.”
“No, I cooked on Saturday night and had a quiet and productive weekend.
“Sure, you did. Let me unpack and at dinner you can casually let slip whatever catastrophes occurred in my absence.”
I was happy to have my sister back at home where she belonged, and I tried not to be impatient, but by five p.m., I was running to the barn, Bertie at my side, so I could help her with the evening feeding.
I liked watching her stomp in her cowboy boots, grabbing bales of hay and throwing them into the wheelbarrow with rough grunts. “I missed your noises, K.”
“What noises? I don’t make noises,” she said with a sheesh.
“Ben said he’d continue charging Doc Pete’s rates for our livestock.”
She grabbed the handles of the wheelbarrow. “That’s a nice surprise. Why’s he doing it?”
“I didn’t ask.”
“He’s either after you or he’s a bad businessman, or both.”
“Maybe he knows I’ll steer business his way. He’s not after me. He’s in love with his wife and thinks I’m a gorgeous lesbian. We’re friends. I know you think it’s impossible for men and women to be friends. Maybe that’s true for you, but not for me.”
She huffed forward with the wheelbarrow and said, “I haven’t eaten since brunch. If you really want to help, you’ll make dinner since you’ve magically learned to cook.”
While I microwaved the cooked chicken, washed salad greens, and sliced bread I rehearsed what to tell her. However, the moment she came into the kitchen, I handed her a glass of ice water and everything that had happened spilled out in a rush. “So other than that, Kenz, everything went pretty well.”
She went to the fridge, pulled out bottles of pale ale, opened them, and handed one to me. “I don’t know where to start so I’ll go chronologically. First, what happened to you is awful. I’m really sorry. Did you file a report with the sheriff?”
“He already knows what happened and blames me, so a report is useless.”
“I’m sure you’re twisting things. I can’t force you, but it’s good to have things on record. Second, I’m glad Ben could help you. You didn’t call me.” Her brows went together.
“You needed a break, didn’t you?”
“Thanks. It means a lot. Third, the naked thing with Ben...he’s not a people doctor and you shouldn’t expect him to behave like one. You should have let Georgie take care of you. Stop chewing your nail.”
I spread my fingers and then clenched my hands a few times. “I wasn’t in the right frame of mind to make rational decisions. Besides, Georgie was busy with her staff.”
“Okay. Fifth—”
“You skipped Fourth.”
She rolled her eyes. “Fourth, I can tell you’re interested in Ben.”
“Only as a friend and fellow canine aficionado.”
“Sure, whatever. But maybe he knows you’re interested and he is playing you. Anyone could have told him. Or your eyes could have. For someone who specializes in half-truths, evasions, and misdirection, you’re a terrible liar.”
“Is that supposed to be good or bad?”
“I don’t know. Where were we?”
“Sixth.”
“Okay, sixth, it would be great if he actually wants to be only a friend. Seventh, I guess I’m glad you squared things with Oliver about Devil Dog. However, eighth, I’m concerned working with him can only lead to more conflict, so please be careful.”
“Anything else?”
“Ninth, how many times have I begged you not to hook up with strangers?”
“I haven’t done it since before Claire, and I didn’t do it this time. I came home.”
“Only because Oliver showed up. If you want, um...”
“The word is sex, Kenzie.”
“Yes, sex, go to one of your old flings, someone safe.”
“Those are all past their sell-by date, and I am being safe. I never go anywhere but the Country Squire.”
“It’s still too dangerous, Maddie.”
“Are we done yet?”
“No. Tenth, there were dozens of messages from people wanting to schedule psychic readings.”
“You told me to let you handle those calls.”
“Right. I’m just saying business is good. Things are good.” She set her lips tight.
“What’s wrong then?”
“I don’t know. I never trust it when things go well.”
“You’re being superstitious. Luck is pure happenstance. Our actions cannot influence happenstance.”
“What I mean is...Oh, maybe I am being superstitious. Every time I see a silver lining, rain starts to pour down,” she said. “What did Ben think about the stud lot? Was he ticked off?”
“I couldn’t tell. He said he might put an underground bunker there.”
“He was joking.”
“Maybe. Or maybe he’s a prepper. What would we do in a disaster? Because we’ve run out of jam.”
“Pick up a few crates of strawberries and I’ll make enough to get us through the end times.”
* * * *
THERE WAS A BURST OF news about Sherry Rae Castleman and the reports repeated the same few details: she was a single lawyer who liked outdoor sports, came from a family of accomplished siblings, and enjoyed traveling and home renovation. She’d spent a weekend at Towering Pines Casino & Resort, and checked out three days before she was discovered at the Carozzos’ property. The night before she checked out, she’d met a man at the craps table and had a dinner with him. According to him, she was in a good mood even though she’d blown through a few thousand. He’d said good-night at the casino restaurant because he had to catch a red-eye flight at SFO. Towering Pines and airline records confirmed his story, and her ex had been on vacation in Rome.
Then a pretty young teenager vanished on a vacation in Hawaii and cable news forgot all about Sherry Rae.
I sunk into my work with Special clients, my initial tentativeness gone as I soon acclimated to the temperature. I soaked in a fantasy world of talking dogs, familiars, reincarnated souls, guardian angels in canine form, and whatever else came to mind.
Jaison and I were smoking an after-work reefer on the center’s sunny observation deck. “You’re so persnickety about world-building in science fiction. So why are you mashing up fairy dogmothers with trickster coyotes?” He said, and inhaled deeply.
I plucked the reefer away and sucked in three short, sharp puffs, holding them in for a count of five. I let out the smoke and coughed. Jaison slapped my back with the palm of his hand, and I said, “Thanks.”
“Where did you get this? Cuz it’s rough and I’m not getting much of anything.”
“It was the cheapest bud at a crappy Oaksterdam shop. I’m not scoring from Dawg’s buddy in the Ring-A-Bell parking lot anymore because I don’t want to support the Sinaloas,” I said, referring to the crops planted by the cartel on remote forest land up on Mt. Hale.
“You mean Rafael? Everyone at the Brewhouse says he’s with Los Tres Chuckies, a branch of Los Gueros. He’s out of his fucking mind filching product. They catch him and it’s adios, asshole, for sure.”
“Los Tres Chuckies?” I said, laughing. “You’re making that up.”
“I couldn’t make it up. They’re named after Chuck Norris, Chuck Taylors, and Chuckie, the killer doll. I haven’t seen Rafael lately, though. Maybe ICE caught him or he’s staying close to home base on the mountain.”
“When I was a kid, we used to go to Mt. Hale all the time. In the summers, my brother practically lived there. He could climb the toughest trails like a mountain goat.” My last toke was as rough as the first, and I coughed for a few seconds while thinking about the steep terrain.
“What’s gonna happen there if fracking gets approved?”
“Probably nothing since Mt. Hale is protected state land. Which is a joke since the growers dump chemicals on their crops and the runoff poisons the streams. I think the bigger question is how Los Tres Chuckies—you must be making up that bullshit name—will deal with recreational legalization.”
“You’re hurting my feelings not trusting me,” he said. “It hasn’t passed in California yet, and they’ve got a lot of other states for export.”
“Legalization will pass. That’s progress. Just like we’re going to have a woman president next election.”
“Don’t get ahead of yourself. It’s always one step forward and then two steps backwards. You know how they hate on Barack. ”
“They hate him in Coyote Run because of your basic unreconstituted racism, but it’s not like that everywhere.”
“Yes, it is.”
“Okay, yes, it is, but he got elected and so can a bleached blond white lady. Not that I believe her.”
“You don’t believe any politician.”
“Because anyone who runs for office is compromised or becomes compromised. We need beer. There’s a six-pack in the fridge. Bring one for me, too.”
I stretched my legs and lowered my eyelids so I could see hazily through my lashes. I’d introduced Zeus to the pack and he was lazing in the shade while Thing Two batted at him and jumped back. He’d merged so easily with my dogs that I knew that at some point, he’d been part of a pack.
Jaison returned with two cans of Modelo and handed one to me. I rolled the cold can on my forehead before cracking it open. We daydreamed about pet psychic readings until the sun was a golden arc edging over the mountains, laughing, and forgetting to talk sometimes, and other times our words tumbled out too quickly.
I said, “People argue if I try to explain something factual about canine behavior, but they’ll follow my advice if I tell them I’ve had a psychic message from the dog.”
“You can’t blame people for wanting a little magic in their lives.”
“I wish magic could clean the yard. It won’t so let’s get our asses in gear.”
“Sing for me while we work.”
So I sang “Lovely Day,” and Jaison joined in on the chorus as we cleared up the crap, enjoying the peace until Heidi had had enough of the Things pestering her, and snarled, and Ghost threw in, and Jaison and I pulled them apart. We put the mother and pups in the private room, and called it a day.
* * * *
I BEGAN THE NEXT FEW mornings with Special appointments and then worked with the boarding dogs. Afternoons were reserved for Zeus, and included Bertie in the SAR exercises. Jaison relented and helped, under the condition that I was the one hiding in barrels, under cars, across creeks, and even on the roof of one of the trailers, while he and the dogs searched for me.
When Oliver Desjardins arrived precisely at nine on Saturday morning, he transformed my shining mood into one of murky apprehension. He stood stiffly outside the center’s gate while the dogs milled curiously along the fence.
I went out to meet him, noticing his track pants with the department logo. I had two leads looped around my neck and tennis balls in the pockets of my hoodie. “Hello, Oliver.”
“I want you to call me Captain Desjardins.”
I put my hands on my hips and looked into those clear pale-lashed eyes. “You’re not on duty and this is my turf. If you want this to work, you’re going to have to let me teach you. You’re going to do what I ask, when I ask.”
His jaw moved back and forth, and I didn’t fight my need to shrug.
“Why do you always do that?” he said.
“We carry our tensions differently. Yours is in your jaw. Mine is everywhere and all the time so I twitch and shrug and do other freaky shit. The more I think about it and try not to do it, the worse it gets. Okay, tell me: what’s the deal with you and dogs?”
“I don’t have a deal. I don’t like them.” When I didn’t respond, he said, “My grandmother had a nasty cocker spaniel. Bit my face when I was two.” Oliver put his finger on his forehead to show me the pale indentation of a scar.
“An aggressive dog can injure and frighten a child. But you’re a grown-ass man now, approximately one-hundred-and-eighty-five pounds and fit, which gives you physical dominance over any domestic dog if you chose to use it, so let go of that childhood trauma,” I said, annoyed when I realized I was paraphrasing a therapist I’d especially disliked. “When I open the gate, you’re going to walk calmly to the far end of the exercise yard by the deck. Don’t make eye contact with the dogs and don’t pet them. Ignore them.”
“Why?”
“You establish your rank by not acknowledging them. Canines have a caste system. I’ll follow behind you. Ready?”
He nodded, but his body seemed stiff, so I said, “Be calm,” and opened the gate. As he walked by me, I smelled the neroli cologne again, so much like Claire that I wanted to lean and inhale. His held his spine straight while going forward. When the dogs approached, he didn’t look down at them or notice when Thing Two rolled over for a belly rub. He hesitated when Heidi rumbled to him for attention.
“Keep going, Oliver.”
He reached the deck and I said, “Good job,” as I went to him. “Walk back and do it again.”
By the time he returned to the deck, the dogs lost interest and he moved more easily. “Come sit here.” When he joined me, I called over a pair of muscular silver pits boarding with me while their owner was on tour. “Gorgeous beasts, aren’t they?” I rubbed the animals’ thick necks and massive block heads and when they growled, Oliver leaned away. I said, “Pits are talky dogs and growling is part of their communication. Look at their body language. See the position of their ears, turned back? They’re smiling.”
“I came here to work with the confiscated dog, not be your best friend.”
“The dog’s name is Zeus.” As I said this, Dutchie dropped a rope toy and came toward us. I signaled for the pits to move. “Oliver, meet Zeus. Zeus, meet Oliver.”
He barely glanced at the dog. “Am I supposed to do something?”
“You can admire him. Some dogs track, following air scent, and some dogs trail, following a direct path on the ground. Zeus can do both. Now we’re going for a run.” I took a lead and snapped it on Zeus’s collar and then called Bertie and attached a lead to his collar.
“What’s the point of this?”
“Running together helps build a bond and also focuses his attention in the now and forward. It’s a natural activity for all canidae. It’s fine to ask questions, but there are times when I’ll need you to act instantly and ask later.” I showed him how to hold the leash and how to apply a correction. “Never give a correction in anger. Dogs do what dogs do and there’s no moral component to their behavior. They behave instinctually. I’ll start off and hand Zeus to you. Keep him on your left with the lead relaxed in your hand. He’ll read tension and stress.”
I began jogging at an easy pace, taking in the crisp morning air, and feeling the soft, damp grasses underfoot, while the two dogs ran side by side as if they’d always run this way. After a minute, I said, “Take it” and handed Oliver Zeus’s lead. “Relax from your shoulder to your fingertips.”
Zeus, predictably, balked and swerved over toward me. “Correct him,” I said.
Oliver followed my instructions, and soon he and Zeus had caught up. When we were all running in synchronicity, I veered off the ranch to the neighbor’s riding trail. Sharp-edged leaves from the Live oaks and twigs sounded underfoot, and the air smelled faintly, though not unpleasantly of horseshit warming in the sun. Things moved the way they should, branches waving slowly, and sparrows flitting. Far above us, a hawk glided in the cloudless sky. Light glinted off Oliver’s hair the way it did on Claire’s, shimmering from gold to copper.
Bertie began lagging so I dropped to a walk and Oliver slowed to meet my pace.
“Bertie keeps veering to you.”
“You mean Zeus. Keep him to your left.”
“They both look the same.”
“Yes, just like you look like every other cop or deputy I’ve seen. Get to know your dog and the distinctions will be evident.” I led us to another path to the road.
Two riders on horses were coming our way. “Zeus is okay with horses. Keep him closer without tugging up on the leash.”
I was focused on Oliver and didn’t see that one of the riders was Beryl until she was right up on us. “Morning, Maddie, Oliver!”
“Hey, Beryl,” I said, moving off the trail so the horses could pass.
“Morning, ladies,” Oliver flashed a smile at Beryl.
She twisted back in her saddle to say, “Did you get up early or is this the end of a long night?”
“It’s business,” Oliver said.
“Oh, of course it is,” Beryl said, flipping her gleaming red hair and smirking at her companion.
Their horses clomped on and then we heard the women’s laughter.
“I can’t believe Beryl Jensen thinks I’m with you,” Oliver said.
“I can’t believe Beryl thinks you’re with anybody.”
“I get my share, Whitney, but some of us have better things to do than go to the Country Squire waggling their ass at strangers.”
“I was having a soda and why is my ass a reoccurring theme with you?”
“I’ve had enough of you for today.” With that, he began to run again. I wanted to chase after him and knock him to the ground, roll him on his back to show I was in charge, but I took one look at Bertie, and saw one paw raised.
I crouched down and found a splinter in his paw. I tried to extricate it with my fingernails, but I’d bitten them too short. In desperation, I used my teeth to pull the sliver out. By the time we’d returned to the ranch, Oliver was standing with my sister by his Jeep and they were laughing about something. The Dutch Shepard was nowhere in sight.
“Where’s Zeus?”
“I returned him to the lot.”
“In future, don’t go into the Center without me or on my instructions.” I jerked away from Maddie who was trying to touch my face.
She threw up her hands and said, “Maddie, Oliver was telling me about his department’s plans for Bonanza Days. Their float is going to be a tank.”
“A Bearcat Armored Personnel Carrier,” he said. “We should have one before the end of the year.”
“That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard,” I said. “What’s it going to cost the county and why the hell do we need it?”
“It’s excess military equipment and I’d like to be prepared for any crisis.”
“Then make fucking jam!”
“Maddie,” my sister said sternly, and they watched me while I clenched my hands once, twice, three, four, five times. If Kenzie wasn’t there, Oliver would have yelled back. Instead he leaned against his Jeep, infuriatingly calm.
“I mean, solve Sherry Rae’s murder first,” I said. “Was she killed in situ or moved? Why haven’t any more facts been released, or have you even investigated?”
“You know enough. We’re not releasing details because we don’t want to give anything away to the perpetrator or perpetrators.”
“Speaking of crime,” Kenzie said, “what about the man who assaulted Maddie at the Brewhouse?”
“She’s welcome to file a report,” Oliver said. “I already had a talk with him and don’t think he’ll be bothering her anymore.”
“Thanks, Oliver!” Kenzie reached out to squeeze his arm.
He smiled at her, showing even white teeth like Claire’s. “Nice seeing you, Kenzie.” In a flat voice, he said, “Maddie.”
“See you next Saturday,” I said as he opened his car door.
“I’m busy. I can do Wednesday, eight in the morning.”
“Fine.”
“Fine.”
As he drove off, Kenzie said, “Why do you antagonize him?”
“Why does he antagonize me? A Bearcat, seriously? Main Street isn’t a war zone and he doesn’t need military equipment to deal with Ring-A-Bell dirtbags.”
“You should be grateful he dealt with the man who attacked you.”
“Are you telling me how to feel?”
“I’m telling you how most people would feel so you have a baseline of knowledge. So how was your training?”
“He assumed he’d run the show, but I set him straight. At least he was able to keep up with me.”
“Is that why he was here ten minutes before you?”
“Bertie had a splinter in his paw,” I said, blinking because it hurt me to think my dog in pain. “Oliver could not be more apathetic about Zeus. I don’t know how Claire stands him.”
“I could respond in so many ways, Maddie. By the way, you have dirt all over your mouth.”
“I said that Bertie had a splinter.” I lifted the hem of my shirt and used it to wipe my face, exposing my belly.
I dropped the hem, and Maddie said, “I’m not going to ask how you got those ugly scratches. I’m going to do laundry and pretend I live in a world where everything is fluffy and clean. Then I’m going to Christopher’s.”
“Go ahead. I can amuse myself.”
“That’s what worries me.”
When I went to the center, Zeus was splashing in the plastic pool, his leash still attached to his collar. I unclipped it and then went into my office, and wrote invoices for Zeus’s food and board at the Special rate and added “Discounted County Rate” to the bill. When the phone rang with Beryl’s number, I let it go to voicemail.
Curiosity got to me, so I listened a minute later. “So nice seeing you this morning, Maddie! I’m having a few friends over for cocktails at eight. Come by and say hello. And invite Oliver! Hope you two can make it.”
“Not fucking likely,” I said, and deleted the message.
* * * *
ANOTHER SATURDAY EVENING and I had nothing going on. I went online and found photos of Claire and the girl with the pixie haircut at Big Sur. She’d once asked me to go with her, but I never managed to arrange my schedule. Claire showed up on an artists’ network, still identified as “Divorced.” I’d asked her about it after she broke up with me and she’d said, “I’m divorced from the expectation that women are only complete if we’re in paired relationships. I’m divorced from publically announcing who shares my bed to the World Wide Web as if anyone cares other than my stalker ex. I’m divorced from people who are divorced from reality.”
I was in the middle of writing my monthly newsletter when Kenzie knocked on the door frame and said, “What are you doing?”
“I’m writing a guide to cleaning dogs’ ears. I did anal sacks last week. I lead a glamorous life.”
“You were on television. People throng to you.”
“Throng is a strange word. I wish someone would throng to me tonight. When I was with Claire, I knew we’d spend weekends together. It was so much easier.”
“Why don’t you call Georgie?”
“I already did. She’s going to one of her kid’s recitals and invited me, but I’d rather gouge my eyes out than listen to strange children mangle music.”
“I hope you didn’t say that to her. What about your other friends?”
“What other friends? They all thronged to Claire and blocked me. I only wanted to talk about Claire and make sure she was okay.” I opened and slid shut my desk drawer ten times. It didn’t make me feel any better, so I opened and shut it again a few more times, with no positive outcomes. “It’s hard to care for someone and not know what they’re doing.”
She sighed. “I know, Mad Girl. I’m taking off now. You don’t have to go out just because it’s Saturday.”
“I know, but...” I saw Kenzie’s brows knit together and knew I could make her change her plans. I could make her cancel with Christopher and stay with me and we could go to the Brewhouse or drive to the new club by the lake. “You’re right. It’s arbitrary to go out on Saturday nights. Beryl, who is under the delusion we’re friends, invited me over so maybe I’ll go there, drink her expensive wine and take plastic baggies so I can score appetizers before leaving.”
She smiled. “That’s my Maddie.” We hugged and kissed goodbye and I smelled a too sweet perfume she only wore when going out.
“Have fun with Christopher.”
“I’ll be back by dinner tomorrow. Keep Bertie close when you’re by yourself.” She hesitated in the doorway, worry clouding her eyes, and I smiled and waved her off.
* * * *
I’D SHOWERED AND WAS staring at my closet when Ben called. “Ben! What’s up?”
“I had an emergency call and now I’m stuck in town for the night. I don’t suppose you’re free for dinner?”
An hour later, we were at a restaurant in Lakewood, sitting on the patio which overlooked the water. Ben wore a button-down shirt, slacks and loafers. “Ava and I spent the whole morning looking at houses with a realtor. Nothing is worse than shopping for a house.”
“I hate everything about shopping for anything.”
“I won’t ask you to go with me to pick out my next suit then,” he said. “I saw this place when we checked out a four-bedroom with a dock.”
“Would you live this far outside Coyote Run?”
“It’s not my first choice. It’s difficult to decide when we’re still unfamiliar with the area. We might rent first and buy later.”
“Is Ava a full-time mom?”
“She works as a part-time SAT tutor. She makes more than she did working full-time and it gives her flexibility.”
Kenzie would be a good tutor, I thought, and then she’d have more free time. So I asked about tutoring and we talked about our jobs, ordered margaritas, platters of food, and leaned close to hear each other while cumbia music blared.
“You’ve changed your hair.”
“Kenzie changed it. She’s the girly one.”
“You’re smiling.”
“Thinking of her always makes me smile. She’s different with me, you know. With other people, she’s friendly and sweet and with me...she stomps and bosses me around. Which I like, but only from her.”
He told me about his family, a big complicated network across the state, and I told him about ours. “My parents split up when I was seven and my father didn’t pay child support. My mother rented our ranch and we moved to a crappy one-bedroom apartment in Tucson. Kenzie and I shared the sofa and our brother slept on a cot. My father is probably still lying and cheating wherever he is.” The wind gusted up carrying the scents of motor boat oil, algae, and coconut suntan lotion, and giving me an excuse to shudder because I felt uneasy disclosing so much. “He’s the reason Kenzie’s distrustful about men. She thinks men and women can’t be friends, but clearly it’s possible. I’m friends with Jaison, Dawg, and now you. I was pals with Doc Pete.”
“What’s Dawg’s story? I’m asking because he seems overqualified for the job.”
“He knows more than most vet techs, but he likes the front office, but he fell apart every time an animal was put down, so Doc Pete moved him to the front desk. He’s a good fit there because he likes talking to people and knows everyone in town. Give him rein and he’ll handle small matters and screen out unnecessary visits.”
The waiter brought the bill, and I looked anxiously at it. Now I’d have to go home and wait through the dark hours until morning, listening for strange sounds.
Ben said, “I invited you. I’ll take care of it. Do you want to see a movie? ”
“I don’t go to movies. I can’t abide sitting beside, behind, or in front of anyone annoying or talkative. We could go to my house.” I thought for a few seconds and said, “You could help me with a top secret project.”
“Is it legal?”
“Yes, but people will be offended, which is why it’s secret.”
His lips went up under his beard. “Now I’m too curious to say no.”
We picked up two pints of ice cream, a bottle of sparkling pinot, and a big bag of peanut M&Ms at the Suncrest Market. “My treat since you paid for dinner. We’ll alternate,” I said to Ben, and I waved to Julie, who was cashing out her register.
And, even though I told Kenzie I was fine alone, I was relieved to have someone with me.
* * * *
BEN OPENED THE WINE and I scooped out ice cream. I put my laptop on the kitchen table and opened a bookmarked page. “So this is my anonymous site, Barking Mad Reviews, and I’m critiquing any and every performance by a dog in a commercial, series, or movie.”
“Why would anyone be offended?”
“I have no idea why. I just know they are. Let’s start with Moose, may he rest in peace, who played Eddie in ‘Frasier’, because there were episodes when he phoned it in.”
“Hmm.”
“See, even you don’t want to hear Moose criticized. Personally, I object to naming one animal after another animal. Who is your favorite dog actor?”
“I like the golden retriever in the baked bean commercials.”
“Jake? He’s genius.”
Ben and I settled into our project, sipping wine, and searching for video clips, and even though we were just friends, I was too aware of the man beside me.
“Ben, I need to tell you something. I have relationships with men, too.”
“Georgie said something nonspecific. I’d assumed it anyway.”
“Oh, good. I wanted things to be clear between us. If you have anything you’d like to reveal to me, please feel free to disclose it.”
He hesitated and then said, “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t try to seduce me. Because if you hit on me, we’d have to stop being friends.”
I didn’t understand exactly what he meant, and I flapped my arms to release my anxiety, one, two, and on the third rise. “Ben, I wouldn’t know how to seduce anyone if I tried, so I’m not going to try and I’m asking the same of you.”
My phone buzzed and I grabbed it like a life jacket. “What the hell, Oliver? Because I am minding my own business at home.” I glanced at Ben, who’d stepped away.
Oliver said, “Nice manners, Whitney. You’re quite the lady. Get the dogs and meet me at the entrance to Oak Forest Park. Time to show me what you’ve accomplished with your elite SAR team.”
“You’re barely capable of walking a dog, and I’m not going with you on a drill so you can jerk me around.”
“I am not...” he began. “A senior with Alzheimer’s wandered off at a picnic and her family hasn’t been able to find her. You know how the temperature drops. She’s eighty-three.”
“The new vet, Ben Meadows, and I will be there in ten.” I looked to Ben for confirmation.
“Fifteen,” Ben said. “I need to change into jeans and boots at my place first.”
“Fifteen minutes,” I told Oliver.
* * * *
I GRABBED MY JACKET, hiking boots, and heavy-duty Maglites. As we were loading the dogs into my truck, I said, “What do you know about search and rescue?”
“Only the basic concepts. What about you?”
“I know a lot in theory, very little in practice. However, Bertie’s had experience and Zeus would hunt for the Abominable Snowman if he thought he’d get to play with a tennis ball afterward. The park’s over a thousand acres of places to get lost, as well as bobcats, coyotes, rattlers, and skeezy guys doing nefarious crap.”
I gave Ben directions, got in the truck, took off. The small Oak Forest Regional Park sign was easy to miss even in daylight. A lime-green fire truck and half a dozen cars crowded the entrance. I turned into the shoulder of the road and parked behind Oliver’s patrol car.
As I took the dogs from their crates, I heard a woman say, “She’s the dog psychic.” I tried to ignore the people crowding around us. Each dog wore a harness with a 20’ lead. A middle-aged couple came forward and began talking over each another as they told me that his mother, Eileen Wainwright, had left their picnic area at around 4:00. They’d searched for her for over an hour before calling 911.
“How often have you done this?” the man said nervously. “Why does your dog have those scars? Is he okay?”
“My dog is ideal in every way, physically, mentally, and spiritually. Do you want my help or not?”
Ben drove into the lot and got out of his SUV with a backpack just as Oliver strode out of the park toward us. “Oliver...I mean, Sheriff, could we speak privately?”
We edged away from the others and I introduced the men. Oliver was leading the search and he said, “We had a team of volunteers on horseback until it got too dark. They’ve flagged all the locations that have been cleared.” He showed us a map that folded in the wind. “We’ll spread out in quadrants from the picnic area and cover the area again. Do you know how to use compasses?”
“Yes,” I said, and Ben said, “What about GPS?”
“Even when it can grab a signal, GPS might lead you off a cliff or into a pond on this terrain,” Oliver said. “Mr. Wainwright told me noise confuses Eileen and she might turn her hearing aid off, so keep that in mind.”
“There’s too much of everything now,” I said. “All the foot traffic probably muddied the scent trail. Sheriff, can you call the volunteers in and give me at least forty-five minutes with the dogs? I don’t think an old lady is going to get very far.”
“She used to run marathons and she uses a treadmill,” Oliver said. “So she can move. That is if she actually wandered off.”
The nerves tightened along my spine, upward: Sherry Rae might have been a victim of opportunity and Eileen might be one, too.
Oliver checked his watch. “I’ll allow forty-five minutes for the dogs to search. If we don’t have any luck, we’ll come back and try again with a line of volunteers.”
Ben slid on his backpack. “I brought my first aid kit.”
“Good,” I said. “Okay, these are the ground rules. You guys can only come with me if you don’t question my decisions because I know these dogs.”
Ben said, “I reserve the right to offer my opinion,” and Oliver said, “After forty-five minutes, I call the shots. Agreed?”
“Agreed.”
Oliver left to tell his deputies our plan, and Ben said, “He’s your ex-girlfriend’s brother?”
“The very one.”
We stopped talking when Oliver rejoined us. He held up a plastic bag and said, “I had Wainwright bring clothes from his mother’s laundry hamper.”
“Ben, hand Zeus to Sheriff Desjardins. You’ll be his second,” I said.
Oliver took the lead without any enthusiasm, and I said, “Greet your dog, Sherriff. Give him a good scratching behind his ears.”
Oliver looked warily at the Dutch shepherd, who darted to the end of the lead and then darted back. Only after Ben reached down to rub Zeus’s back did Oliver pet the dog.
We crunched through the layers of live oak leaves, each tipped with sharp points, and soon arrived at a picnic table illuminated by kerosene lanterns. A deputy sat on the table and said, “Any word?”
“Nothing,” Oliver said. “We’ll be fanning out with the dogs. Stay here and report any news to me.”
“Yes, sir.”
I slipped on plastic gloves and took Eileen’s clothes out of the bags for the dogs to sniff. “Bertie was trained to trail ground scents, and Zeus can air scent fairly well. At least he can find me when I’m hiding. I don’t know what he’ll do now.”
I handed plastic gloves and a sock to Oliver. “You don’t have to keep the gloves on but we don’t want to contaminate their introduction to the scent. Get your dog excited about the sock. And ‘excited’ is not the same as ‘murderous.’ It’s a game for him and if you want Zeus to locate Mrs. Wainwright, you have to make him want to play.”
Oliver smiled, but I recognized the set of his jaw. “Here, boy.” He waved the sock in front of Zeus. “Good boy. Smell the sock,” he said. “Whitney, do I really have to do this?”
“You don’t have to have a conversation with him,” Ben said. “Because it’s all ‘Blah, blah, blah, Ginger.’ He’ll respond to your attitude and your tone.”
I stood by a green trash barrel and slowly made a 360 degree turn, the flashlight held in front of me, pausing when I saw areas wide enough for easy passage. The path of least resistance was a narrow trail used by bicyclists. “This is our starting point. Oliver, let Zeus smell the socks again and give him his command, revier. It means search. Revier.” I took a tennis ball out of my pocket and handed it to Oliver. “Now he knows if he finds the scent, you’ll play catch with him. I’ll go first with Bertie. If we lose each other, we’ll return to the picnic table and regroup.”
I crouched close to my beautiful dog, praying I was not sending him to discover a corpse. I held a thin sweater to his nose. “Search,” I commanded, and he dropped his nose to the ground and began sniffing.
“Revier,” Oliver said, and Zeus bounded forward, then to one side, lifting his nose to a breeze that whispered like a ghost moving through the trees.
The men and I could only see to the end of our flashlight beams, but the dogs moved swiftly through the darkness, leaping over fallen logs that I had to clamber over, and splashing through puddles where I slipped and fell. Ben helped us untangle the long leads from shrubs and shined his light ahead.
The dogs yipped with impatience at our awkwardness, our uncertain steps. As we ran, we began to find a rhythm and a synchronicity, when the leads no longer tangled and when Bertie’s nose-to-the-ground stride matched Zeus’s raised head as he darted ahead.
There was a moment when we reaching a small clearing and the icy half-moon shone down on us, turning the scene a chiaroscuro flipbook as we tore through the undergrowth, and I felt every sense heightened, discovering shapes within the darkness, scents on the wind, the taste of the air in my mouth, the grasp of coyote bush against my leg, the sounds of insects and animals, and we ran and ran, the dogs coursing ahead, and we panted together, and our feet pounded the earth together, and we were alive together, in this moment, in this place of darkness and trees and earth and wind and water.
Then the dogs bounded down an incline so steep we slid to catch up and tumbled into a crevice carved by a narrow chilly fast-running creek. The dogs followed the creek and we sloshed after, breaking into a tangle of blackberry brambles that tore at my arms and face, but couldn’t gain purchase on my short hair, the thorns scraping against my scalp.
“She couldn’t have gone in here,” Oliver said, but the dogs yelped excitedly, so we pushed on and called out, “Mrs. Wainwright! Eileen, Eileen!” until our voices were hoarse and we pressed through the brambles ripping at us and we followed the dogs, who crawled beneath the densest branches, and Ben said, “Quiet! Listen.”
We heard the creek swirling along, our dogs barking close by, a coyote yelping in seductive response, the hypnotic drone of crickets, the heavy flap of wings overhead of wild turkeys we’d disturbed, and the thud as they landed nearby, and we heard a faint, reedy voice singing wordlessly, tunelessly, distant and hollow as if from a cave.
Oliver shouted, “Mrs. Wainwright! Mrs. Wainwright, tell us where you are. This is Sheriff Desjardins and we’re here to help. Direct us to your location!”
There was no response so he tried again, “Mrs. Wainwright, are you all right? We’re going to help you.”
We heard the dogs rustling, but our flashlights couldn’t cut through the blackness.
“She’s scared,” Ben said. “Sing to her, Maddie.”
It took me a minute to catch my breath and then I sang, “Come on, Eileen,” and soon a weak, off-key voice was accompanying me, and Zeus barked to give us direction. I sang and we crawled in the mud under the brambles, descending all the while, Oliver and Ben joining in on the chorus, and we saw her then, her bony arms around the dogs, as if they were her familiars in this underworld.
I dropped into the mud next to the old woman and continued to sing while Oliver radioed our location. Ben wrapped the Mylar blanket over her and Oliver searched for an easier route out. There was none so we waited and warbled and Mrs. Wainwright joined in a beat behind, smiling now.
Oliver tossed the tennis ball to Zeus and said, “So ist brav,” and I was so happy he remembered, and Mrs. Wainwright said, “Guter hund. I had a shepherd when I was a girl. They are the best dogs. Can I go home now?”
Someone nearby called, “Dr. Ben! Are you there? Olly?”
I shouted, “We’re here, Dawg!”
We swung our lights toward his voice until we saw him sweeping aside a curtain of vines, crouching down, unable to come any farther into the tiny space. “You found her. Hi, Mrs. W. You remember me? Dawg from Dr. Pete’s office.”
* * * *
AND AS EASILY AS THAT, Dawg had broken the spell and we were merely a lost old lady, the small town law officer, a married man missing his family, and the village idiot.
Eileen’s face scrunched like a dried apple. “Douglas O’Donnell, of course, I know you—always loitering with your no-good friends by the Riley’s Liquors, smoking drugs and pitching pennies. Where’s my son? He’s supposed to come home right after school, but I can never rely on him.”
“Nice to see you, too.” Dawg ran his flashlight’s beam over her and said to us, “The rescue team’s on its way. Can she walk out?
Ben examined Mrs. Wainwright, with a far gentler touch than he used with me. “I think her ankle is broken.” He used the sweater to pad her ankle and the scarf and sticks for a splint.
We engaged in an elaborate game of Twister to maneuver Mrs. Wainwright into the culvert, where the rescue team had dropped a harness on a rope. She panicked several times when we tried to strap her, struggling and shouting, “It’s too bright,” as she shielded her eyes from the emergency lights above, where a crowd was waiting for us.
Oliver said, “Maybe she doesn’t want to go into the goddamn light,” with a look at me.
“Make yourself useful and sing,” I said, and our voices calmed Eileen; we were the choir singing as she ascended into the land of the living.
I wanted to avoid the lights and noise, too, and crawl back the way we’d come, but Bertie was tired. He was too heavy for me to lift up so Ben buckled in and carried my dog.
While we waited, Oliver rubbed Zeus’s back. “We did okay.”
“We did a damn sight better than okay. Do you realize how special Zeus is?”
“I’m getting the idea.”
The harness was thrown down again and this time Oliver went up with Zeus. I had only a moment alone in the darkness. I wanted time to slip back and run again through the shadows of the oaks, fighting the scrub brush, hearing our feet pounding on the hard earth. The elemental feeling was already as ephemeral as a dream, and I was already trapped in a labyrinth of my own thoughts with paths, stairs, and doorways turning upon themselves with no escape, and I couldn’t understand what I was feeling. Something, I felt something welling within me, filling my eyes, spilling down my cheeks.
I rubbed my face, scouring mud over my tears, and when the harness dropped, I buckled myself in and was lifted to the surface. Most of the activity had moved to the entrance, where Mrs. Wainwright was fussing on a gurney, refusing to go into the ambulance.
A news van was there, and Sasha Seabrook stood in front of the Oak Forrest Park sign, in high-heels and a snug dress, reminding me it was still Saturday night. Abel Myklebust had cornered Oliver and the fire chief.
Sasha waved at me and said, “Dr. Whitney! Yoo-hoo!”
I returned her wave and trudged to my truck. Ben had loaded the dogs in their crates and was closing the tailgate when Dawg came up. “Dawg, how’d you find us so fast?”
“I recognized the spot from Ollie’s description. I spent a lot of time partying in this park when I was supposed to be in high school. Mrs. Wainwright was always on our ass, but I’m glad you rescued the old nag.”
I saw Sasha picking her way on the uneven pathway toward me, and said, “Me, too. But now I really need to get out of here.”
Ben said, “I’ll play defense while you make a break for it.” As I hurried to my truck, I heard him say, “I’ve seen you on television!”