A Dog's
Life
by Myra Love
Chapter III
It was around noon when I left Clausen and Willard. I was hungry. I
could have stopped somewhere for lunch or even gone home and scrounged
something from the refrigerator, but when I looked at my watch, I
remembered that Lisa had a class at noon and wouldn’t be at my place.
The apartment has started to feel lonely when she’s not there. I got
into my cruiser and headed across town to Fleming Electrical. I knew
that Anne always cooked Marcus and Joe something warm for lunch. And I
was likely to get invited if I showed up.
“Are you hungry, Andy?” Anne greeted me as I walked through the door.
“We’re closing for lunch in five minutes.”
“I came by to talk with Marcus,” I said, “but I’d be delighted to join
you for lunch.”
Annie rolled her eyes. “You’re not a very good liar, young man. We knew
you’d be by so I made a little extra.”
I was doubly curious. “How come you knew I’d be by?” I asked. “And a
little extra of what?”
She laughed. When Annie laughed you wanted to laugh with her. Her shiny
white teeth glow against her cocoa-colored skin, but not as brightly as
her warm brown eyes. “Our other lunch guest told us. She is finally
going to get the wiring in her attic brought up to code. Marcus told her
she should be ashamed of herself, her almost an officer of the court,
and that illegal wiring in her house. Not to mention that it’s a fire
hazard.”
“Fire hazard, my foot,” I heard a familiar hoarse voice say cheerfully
and looked up to see the sharp features of Anita Carswell attempting not
to break into a grin. “Hello, Andy. The wiring in that attic has held up
for forty years.”
“That’s at least twenty years too long,” I heard another familiar voice
respond, as Marcus stepped into the room. He nodded at me and said,
“Good afternoon, Andy. You here about that dog? There’s fish chowder and
fresh-baked corn muffins for lunch. Joe will be a little late, but he
said to start without him.”
“Hi, Anita, Marcus.” I followed them as they followed Annie into the
kitchen. “Can I help set the table or something?” I asked.
“Table’s set,” Annie replied. “Do you want to talk or eat?”
“Eat first, I guess, if food is ready.”
“Sit down at the table then!”
About fifteen minutes into lunch, Joe came home. He was grumpy. “Mr.
Heller said he didn’t really want to have his fuse box replaced with
circuit breakers,” he grumbled at his father. “So I found some old fuses
at the bottom of the parts box and replaced the ones that blew. Of
course, they’re going to blow again soon. I told him, but he wouldn’t
listen.”
“Don’t talk about work now, Joe,” Annie scolded her son fondly. “Wash
your hands and come eat.”
When Joe reappeared, he’d lost his grouchiness and was genuinely glad to
see both Anita and me. We made small talk while his mother warmed up his
soup. Afterwards, he stayed in the kitchen to help Annie wash up. Anita,
Marcus, and I sat in the living room.
I grinned at Anita. “How did you find out about Mattie’s dog? And what
made you think I’d come talk with Marcus?”
Anita smirked. “I ran into the chief an hour ago. Or rather, he ran into
me, deliberately, I think. He seemed perplexed by the dognapping.” She
laughed. “That’s the term he used for it. He seemed sure that Jim knows
something but isn’t saying.”
Marcus grunted. “Stands to reason that you folks,” he nodded his head at
me to indicate the police, “would want to question all of Jim’s
creditors. Technically I am one of those, though I think my situation is
slightly different than that of the others.”
I leaned back. “How so?”
Anita answered. “Jim didn’t lose money to Marcus, he borrowed money from
Marcus.”
I wished she wouldn’t interrupt and almost told her I was carrying out
an official investigation and she was interfering. But that was stupid.
She was Anita and probably already knew more about what was going on
than I’d find out in a week of Sundays.
My annoyance must have shown on my face because Anita put up her hands.
“Don’t arrest me, Officer. I shall sit back and let you interrogate
Marcus.”
“I’m not interrogating him,” I grumbled at her. “He’s talking to me.”
Marcus nodded. “Women can be presumptuous, can’t they, Andy? Annie
always knows what I’m going to say before I say it and can say it
better. But I thought that was because we were married. Seems Anita here
can do that and she and I have never even kissed.”
Anita acknowledged his remark with a half smile. “I think I’ll go help
Annie and Joe.” She stood up.
“Please don’t go!” I said in what I hoped was a contrite tone. “You
probably have a better handle on what’s happening than I do, and I’d
appreciate your help.”
She sat back down and Marcus grinned at her. “Anita isn’t quite correct.
I didn’t exactly lend Jim fifteen hundred dollars. I did fifteen hundred
dollars of electrical work for him, knowing he didn’t have the money to
pay me. Technically, he owes it to me, but I don’t expect to see the
money. I considered what I did an act of charity. All his kitchen
appliances were in pretty bad shape.”
I must have looked perplexed because Marcus continued. “At his hunting
cabin, not at the house. Mattie pays for all the electrical work at the
house.”
I had forgotten about Jim’s hunting cabin, maybe because I’d never been
invited out there. Mattie had never been there either. I don’t think she
minded since she wasn’t a hunting enthusiast. When she first came to me
to lament Jim’s debts, I suggested that he sell the cabin, but she
refused to broach the subject with him. “It’d break his heart, Andy.
Why, his father left him that cabin. A man has to have someplace to go
where he can feel like a real man instead of a wage slave.” I’d rolled
my eyes at that but let it go. She was quoting Jim, I knew, and there
was no point arguing with her.
“So you worked on Jim’s cabin for free? I didn’t know you and he were
such close friends.”
“They’re not,” Annie piped up, having come in without my noticing. Joe
wasn’t with her. “Marcus doesn’t like Jim Keeley, but he is fond of
Mattie. She asked him to do the work for her husband, and he didn’t want
to refuse her.”
“That woman has a hard row to hoe,” Marcus said sadly. “I’m glad to do
what I can to help her. Being married to a gambler is no fun. Why my
cousin Edna down in Louisiana was married to a gambler, a man named
Frederick, after Frederick Douglas, the great abolitionist…”
I settled back in my chair and let Marcus’ story roll over me. I’d heard
it before, but he was such a good storyteller that I didn’t mind the
repetition. He loved to talk about the bad old days, before his father
came here and started the business that Marcus inherited from him. I
looked around the room and saw Joe poke his head in and then retreat
when he saw Marcus in storytelling mode. Although Joe admired his
father’s ability to spin a yarn, he’d started to avoid hearing them. His
father’s stories nearly always ended with a paean of praise to the
family business, as if the whole point was to persuade him to take over
Fleming Electrical when his father retired. But Joe had no interest in
doing electrical work for the rest of his life. He’d graduated from the
state university and wanted to go on to graduate school in science.
However, since none of his older siblings had wanted to run the company
either, Marcus had determined that his youngest son should inherit it.
Though there wasn’t really bad blood between Marcus and Joe, they had
agreed to disagree about Joe’s future. Annie was on Joe’s side, and Joe
had even enlisted Anita Carswell in his effort to persuade his father to
support him in his decision to study microbiology and entomology. But
Marcus remained unmoved. “I won’t stop you since you have that
fellowship waiting for you, but I think you’re making the wrong choice,”
was all that Marcus grudgingly conceded whenever Joe broached the
subject.
“…And the last anyone heard of Frederick was when he sent a postcard
from Las Vegas asking his sisters to send him money,” Marcus concluded
his tale. Since Joe had not stayed to listen, Marcus had not brought the
story around to the benefit of having the family business to fall back
on, for which I was grateful. He’d never directly asked me to take his
side in their disagreement because he was too much of a gentleman for
that, but I knew he wished I would.
Instead, I put him on the spot. “You know,” I began, “I appreciate your
wanting to help Mattie, but no matter how I look at it, it seems that
all you accomplished was enabling Jim’s irresponsibility.” I rarely
criticized Marcus, and he didn’t look pleased.
“Enabling? Andy, that’s psychobabble as far as I’m concerned. Next
you’re going to start talking about codependency and all that nonsense.”
I shook my head. “How does Mattie benefit from a bunch of free
electrical work in Jim’s cabin?”
He emitted a short, bitter laugh. “He won’t be hounding her to pay for
it, that’s how. Young man, I don’t think you know what that woman puts
up with in the way of nagging and pressure and general meanness from her
husband. And you should know, seeing as how she is your own flesh and
blood.”
I looked over at Anita, who’d sat silently through Marcus’ story and our
conversation. She smiled at me, but didn’t intervene. I took a deep
breath, knowing that if I wanted her input I’d have to ask for it. “What
do you think, Anita?” I finally prompted her.
She shook her head. “I don’t have enough information to think anything
yet. What I know is that Marcus did what he did to be kind, and he
probably has a point about the quality of Mattie’s life, but she is
living the life she chooses to live. She must be getting some sort of
satisfaction from her situation.”
Marcus’ look of complacency turned into an expression of mild chagrin at
that. “Oh, come on, Anita! Mattie takes her marriage vows seriously,
that’s all. She may not like how Jim treats her, but she is loyal.”
Before Anita had a chance to reply, my cell phone rang. I looked at the
screen and the number was my own home phone number. That meant Lisa, so
I answered the call.
“Your Aunt Mattie has been trying to get hold of you for a couple of
hours, Andy. She called three times and sounded more upset each time,”
Lisa said without greeting or preamble.
“Hello to you too, sweetheart,” I said. “Mattie has my cell phone
number.”
“Had it. She said one of the dogs ate it.”
“Did she say what she wanted?”
“Just that you should call her immediately if not sooner.”
“Okay,” I said without enthusiasm. “Are you going to be there when I get
back this evening?”
“Depends on when that is. I promised my mom that I’d help her bake for
Dad’s birthday. You remember there’s a surprise party for him on Sunday,
don’t you?”
“I do now. Listen Leess, I’m here with Anita at Fleming’s Electrical. Do
you want to say hi to her or to Marcus, Annie, or Joe before I hang up?”
“Just say hi for me. I have to get back for a psych lab. Don’t forget to
call Mattie. Bye.”
Lisa didn’t like to talk on the phone. When I thought about a phone
conversation with Aunt Mattie, I decided I didn’t like to talk on the
phone either, so I thanked Annie for the meal and told Marcus I’d talk
to him again about Jim if I had to, but I hoped that we’d solve the
mystery of the stolen dog soon, so I wouldn’t have to. He chuckled. “Oh,
knowing you and the chief, it will be several weeks before you get
everything sorted out. I’ll be here, running my shop as usual.”
After a brief good-bye to Joe, I turned to Anita. “Want to come along?
I’m going to see Mattie.”
Anita laughed. “I don’t think she’d let me in her house. I am not one of
the Keeleys’ favorite people, as you know.”
I shrugged. “No accounting for taste. Can I call you if I need an ear?”
“I need both my ears for my own use, but I’ll lend you some brain power,
Andy.”
I felt my face flush as I walked out to my cruiser.
“We got a ransom note, Andy,” my aunt greeted me excitedly before I even
got into her house. “That is, Jim got it, and it was an email message,
not a letter. Whoever took Dr. Phil wants fifteen-hundred dollars for
him.”
I stepped through the door and was mobbed by the dogs. “Let me see the
email,” I said firmly, pushing my way through the excited pack.
“It’s on Jim’s computer,” she explained. “I don’t really know how to use
it.”
“Jim can show me then,” I replied. “Is it upstairs?”
She shook her head. “No, it’s in the basement. It used to be upstairs,
but then Jerry Springer chewed the cord, so Jim moved it down to his
workshop. He has a padlock on the door, and none of dogs knows the
combination.”
I wasn’t sure I’d heard right, but I knew better than to ask. “Is Jim
down there now?”
She shook her head again. “He went out to have a walk and a cigar. I
think the message upset him.”
“Is the door padlocked right now?”
She nodded. “Of course.”
“Do you have the key?”
She shook her head. “Jim has it on his key chain. He doesn’t like to
leave it lying around…” (I braced for the rest of the sentence since I
knew what was coming.) …so the dogs won’t get it and open the door.”
I sighed. “How long will he be gone? I’m on duty and can’t stay here all
afternoon waiting for Jim.”
“No need to get so grumpy, Andy,” she scolded. “Sit down and have a cup
of tea. Jim will be here when he gets here.”
An hour and three cups of tea later Jim came through the door. “Howdy
Andy. Mattie tell you about the email?”
I nodded. “I’d like to have a look at it.”
He shrugged. “Sure. Follow me.”
Jim’s office was a large room behind the laundry machines. He unlocked
the door and ushered me in. “The computer is over here,” he said,
leading me to an old wooden desk with a comfortable padded chair in
front of it. “That’s my chair,” he said sharply as I sat down. “You can
pull over one of those.” He pointed to a collection of old kitchen
chairs around a battered table in the other corner of the room. I didn’t
get up, so he sighed and pulled up one of the kitchen chairs for
himself.
“Know anything about computers, Andy?” he asked as he leaned over me,
booted up the machine, and got online.
“A bit,” I replied.
Jim smiled and opened his Yahoo mail folder. “Let’s see.” He scrolled
down and found the message he was looking for. “There you are!”
The message was short and to the point, demanding fifteen hundred
dollars and threatening harm to the dog unless payment was made. There
were no instructions as to how payment was to be tendered, just the
words, “I’LL BE IN TOUCH. DON’T FORGET I’M WATCHING YOU!” The message
was unsigned, but it had been sent from a hotmail account with the user
name “Dognapper.”
“Interesting,” I murmured. “The perpetrator knows your email address.”
Jim chuckled. “Oh, anyone can find my email address. You just have to
google me. If you knew anything about computers, Andy, you’d know that.”
“There’s a computer tech with the state police,” I replied in my most
official voice. “Shut this down and pack it up. I’ll take it to him
tomorrow and we’ll see what he can come up with.”
“What?” Jim looked as outraged as he sounded. “You can’t just take my
computer.”
“It’s evidence,” I said. “The state police technician may be able to
tell us where the ransom note originated.”
Jim shook his head violently. “Sorry Andy, but I need this for my work.
You can’t take it.”
I reached out and shut the computer down. Then I walked over to the wall
where it was plugged into a surge protector. ‘Evidence,” I repeated the
word and pulled the plug.
Jim jumped to his feet. “You can’t just take it. You need a search
warrant!”
I wound the cord. “Do you have a box for it? If not I’ll just carry it
out to the cruiser as is.”
“YOU ARE STEALING MY COMPUTER!” Jim yelled. “YOU NEED A DAMNED SEARCH
WARRANT!”
“You’ve been watching too much TV, Jim. I just need to give you a
receipt. And I’ll do that right now.”
“Damn it, Andy! Don’t be that way. At least let me download my work
stuff onto a CD so I don’t lose money while your techie is fooling
around with my machine.”
I should have known better, I guess, but I’m not an expert on computers.
“Okay, go ahead,” I agreed. “But make it quick. I need to get back to my
investigation.”
“It’s a lot of data, Andy, and it’ll take a while. Why don’t you go up
and have a cup of tea with Mattie? Or better yet, go back to work and
come back for the computer this evening.” He took the cord from my hand
and plugged the machine back into the surge protector.
“I’ve had plenty of tea,” I said, “too much in fact. I’ll just sit here
and wait for your data to download.”
“Suit yourself,” he replied sullenly, started up again and put a CD into
the drive.
An hour later, the process was still going on. I glared at Jim, and he
smiled back triumphantly. “Told you it was a lot of stuff.”
“I thought these machines were fast. Are you copying everything on your
hard drive to the CD?”
He just laughed. “I do a lot of my work at home. Easier to concentrate
and I can get stuff done any hour of the day or night.”
I grunted and looked at my watch. “I better phone the station and let
the chief know what I’m doing.”
Jim nodded. “You do that, Andy. If you need privacy, you can step right
out the way we came in.”
I had the feeling he wanted to get rid of me, so I stayed right where I
was and called in. The chief was interested in the ransom note and told
me to bring the computer by the station before heading to the state
police barracks with it. “Donald knows a bit about that stuff,” he said.
“We’ll have him take a look at it first.”
When I got off the phone, Jim said the computer was ready to go. He was
much more cooperative than he had been and went to find boxes to
transport it. Before he closed it down, he went back into his email
folder and showed me the message again, just, he claimed, so I’d be able
to find it again. He even opened it and closed it, almost as if he
wanted to show me it was still there. He shook hands with me when I
left.
“I’ll get this back to you as soon as I can,” I told him.
He smiled when he said good-bye.
It was five-fifteen by the time I got the computer back to the station.
The chief had already gone home, but Donald was waiting for me. “Chief
will be back at six,” he said. “He said it was okay to go ahead and look
at the computer without him.”
“You sure?” I asked, knowing that the chief liked to be in on every
aspect of every investigation.
“Yeah, he’s not exactly computer savvy. I’ll have to explain everything
to him afterwards anyway, so we might as well take a look now.”
We set up the computer and got into Jim’s email account without any
trouble. He’d told me that he wouldn’t sign out so I didn’t need his
password. I scrolled down to where the Hotmail message was supposed to
be, but it was missing.
“Dagnabbit!” I grumbled, using the chief’s favorite euphemism without
realizing it. I continued scrolling through Jim’s inbox, but the message
was gone.
© 2015 Myra Love - All Rights
Reserved
|