by Mary Hiker
Chevy’s rabies vaccination tag – that previously hung from his collar - was taped to the paper.
I stretched my arm and held the note up to the light of the fading sun. As I read, my knees went weak. I collapsed against the pillar that held the porch roof and re-read the note five times:
You want your dog back alive?
Bring $5,000 in a backpack to Little Log Trailhead tomorrow
Saturday at 9:00 a.m. sharp.
CASH ONLY. Come ALONE. And you better not tell ANYONE.
Chapter 4
My elbows dug into my thighs as I perched on the edge of my couch and rested my head in my hands, staring at the wooden floor and watching the early evening shadows invade the room. My bank just closed for the weekend, so there was no access to my full savings account balance until Monday morning. Not good, when I needed five thousand dollars so soon.
The ATM limit was five hundred dollars per day. I’d just pulled out five hundred dollars and the machine would allow me to withdraw another five hundred in the morning. That was one thousand. There was about two hundred dollars hidden in my kitchen cabinet, which meant I still needed to find thirty-eight hundred dollars by morning. Cash.
I’d already called the animal sanctuary with news that I wouldn’t make it to work tomorrow due to a family emergency. That was the truth – Chevy was my family and this was an emergency. Ben was one of the best bosses in existence, and I knew he, of all people, would agree. That man loved animals as much as I did.
A list of friends and family ran through my thoughts as I compared them to my mental checklist. I needed someone who:
1. Had thirty-eight hundred dollars in cash lying around.
2. Would lend it to me until Monday.
3. With no questions asked.
4. And would keep their mouth shut about it.
They were tough requirements, but after racking my brain for twenty minutes, I had one name that fit the bill. I grabbed my empty hiking pack and headed out the door.
#
The jingling of the bells on the diner door seemed so far away as I stumbled toward the counter. Miss Millie rushed over and helped me onto a seat.
“Avery, oh my goodness.” Her soft blue eyes were filled with worry.
“Thanks, Millie,” I said as I rubbed my eyes. “I just got a little light-headed.”
She swiped a wisp of white hair back in place and straightened her apron. “When’s the last time you had something to eat?”
I squinted and tried to remember, but couldn’t, my mind fixated on the delightful smell of fresh baked bread.
“Oh. My. Goodness.” Miss Millie reached out for a candy bar by the cash register and ripped the wrapping wide open in one motion. “Eat this while Johnny fixes you a plate.”
Millie ignored my half-hearted protests and waved to her part-time cook. “Johnny, I need a big plate of roast beef and mashed potatoes, with extra vegetables.”
She turned to me with a stern look and her hands on her hips until I shoved the candy bar in my mouth. The gooey caramel and chocolate seemed to give me an instant boost. My stomach rumbled in response to the calories.
“By the looks of it, I’d say you also haven’t had any liquids either for who knows how long.” She shook her head and filled a large glass of water.
I gulped down the entire glassful in one tip and Miss Millie immediately refilled it. “Drink some more.”
“Whew, thanks, Miss Millie,” I said and remembered my mission. “I’m feeling better now… can I ask you a favor?”
“You can ask me for anything, you know that,” she said as she put the dish of steaming hot food in front of me and handed me a fork. “But I’m not listening to a word until you’ve finished every morsel of food on this plate.”
I’d known Miss Millie long enough to not try and argue with her. I don’t think she’s lost an argument in over thirty years. The aroma of roast beef smothered with gravy captured my attention and I crammed a big forkful of potatoes in my mouth to satisfy both Millie and my growling stomach. The first warm bite went down smoothly and alerted my belly how hungry I really was.
The food was gone from my plate in world record time and the woman who was like a grandmother to me was finally satisfied. Miss Millie leaned over, put her arm around my shoulder and whispered, “Now, let’s get down to business.”
Chapter 5
“Since I didn’t hear Chevy’s friendly bark when you pulled into the parking lot, I assume you haven’t gotten him back yet.” She patted my arm as she spoke.
“No, ma’am,” I said, staring at the counter.
“Whoever’s got him will come to their senses soon.” She tried to reassure me, but a tinge of doubt came through in her tone. “Half the county has been notified by social media and is on alert and I’ve attached Chevy’s picture to every menu in this place.”
“Thanks, Miss Millie,” I said and smiled at her creativity and willingness to help. Her caring ways always made me feel better, no matter the situation. I turned so I could look at her square in the eye.
“What is it, dear?” Her eyes widened.
I held my finger to my mouth and looked around to make sure the coast was clear before speaking. “I need your help, but it has to be kept a secret.” That part had me a bit worried since Miss Millie was known to talk to most everyone in this town about everything. “I’m very serious.”
She took a deep breath, nodded her head and grabbed my hand.
“Miss Millie, I need to borrow thirty-eight hundred dollars in cash, and I can’t tell you why.” I squeezed her hand and gave a slight smile to ease her mind. “I can pay you back on Monday when the bank opens.”
She looked over my shoulder and moved her gaze slowly around the diner. The clinking of silverware on plates and chitter-chatter of gossip continued on as normal. “Stay right here.”
I winced as I watched the elderly lady tiptoe past me and slowly make her way around to the back side of the counter. It was her attempt to act nonchalant, but being under the radar wasn’t her strong suit. I appreciated the effort though and had no choice but to roll with it.
I sat up straighter on my stool to watch as she pulled out a box labeled, ‘Employee Suggestions’ from the bottom shelf and opened the top. Her wrinkled hand pushed aside some small pieces of paper to reveal a bottom layer filled with cash. She turned her back to the restaurant as she counted out the money, stuffed it in a paper bag and folded the top down three times, just like she did on every to-go order.
“Here’s five thousand,” she whispered as she handed me the paper bag. “I gave you a little extra in case you need it.”
I opened the hiking pack that sat between my legs, dropped the bag of money inside and zipped it tight. “I’ll pay you back on Monday – first thing.”
“Uh, oh.” She looked down and straightened her apron, whispering. “We’ve got a nosey neighbor.”
My body froze. “Who is it?”
“Tommy Brackenship.”
“The detective?”
“Tommy took an early retirement late last year.” She adjusted her apron for the second time. “He’s been coming in here for most of his meals since his wife landed in the hospital again.” She squinted and whispered. “I think he’s been adding whiskey to his morning coffee.”
I adjusted my ponytail, giving me an excuse to glance at the diners behind me. Tommy ducked behind the newspaper he was ‘reading’. It was too late to worry about it. I just hoped he didn’t see Millie count out the money.
Millie leaned over the counter, gave me a hug the best she could and whispered, “Good luck, now.” She handed me another small paper bag and gave me a wink, “It’s Chevy’s favorite dog cookie treat. Be sure to give it to him when you find him.”
I gripped the pack strap tight and I focused on moving at a normal pace across the diner to the exit door. I turned and leaned into the door to open it and quickly glanced across the diner, hoping to get a look at the man behind the newspaper.
The retired sheriff’s detective with a reputation for being bulldog tough, a protector of family, and a member of the Sheriff’s Old Boys Network was already speed-dialing his cell phone.
I listened intently as I held the door and slowly stepped into the quiet night.
“Hey, Sheriff, Tommy here,” the seasoned detective grumbled. “I might’ve just stumbled onto the source of your latest crime problem. Avery Barks just obtained a lot of cash and my gut says she’s getting ready to do a drug deal.”
Chapter 6
“These people better be okay with getting a lot of singles, fives, and tens,” I said out loud to myself and made sure I had everything I needed before leaving the house. They shouldn’t have anything to complain about after giving me such short notice.
Being ripped off really made my skin crawl, but the most important thing to focus on was getting my dog back. I popped an aspirin and took another gulp of diet cola, trying to get rid of my headache and headed out the door to my truck. The clock read eight a.m. and I’d been up all night, planning on getting to the trade-off spot very early.
My knuckles were white as my hands gripped the steering wheel, the stress of the last twenty-four hours seeming like nothing compared to this. I checked the rear-view to make sure Tommy Brackenship’s buddies were nowhere in sight and slowly pulled out of the driveway.
I took the long way around just to be sure no one was following me and planned to make it to the trailhead within thirty minutes. My camping knife rested in the side pocket of my blue BDU pants, just in case. Everything else was piled on the passenger seat, where I could keep an eye on it.
The heater in my truck kicked in as I turned onto the road leading to Little Log Trailhead. I glanced in the rear-view one last time and screamed.
There was movement in the back seat of my truck!
The vehicle swerved as my right arm instinctively started swinging backwards and punching at the air in the back seat. A firm hand grabbed my flailing arm and gripped it tight. I used the strength in my whole body and pulled back to no avail, causing my truck to cross the center line.
“Avery, it’s me,” a male voice shouted about two inches from my ear.
“Don?” I yelled, “What are you doing? You scared me to death.”
“It’s not what it looks like…”
I ripped my arm free and instinctively reached across the front seat, grabbing my backpack.
“Watch out!” Don yelled and pointed up ahead.
I looked back at the road and a deer was crossing right in front of us. I yanked the steering wheel hard to the left to miss the deer and my truck ran off the road, flipping down a short, steep embankment.
“Agggh!” Don groaned in pain.
I was so focused on the keeping the bag of money with me that Don’s injuries didn’t register. My arms clinched the hiking pack tight as I crawled out of the now upside down truck.
“Auuugh!” The groaning got louder. “Avery, help me!”
What the…?
I marched back and crouched down to get a good look at him. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done?” My breathing was fast and hard.
I bolted upright and kicked a pile of leaves through the broken window of my demolished truck. There was so much adrenaline flowing through me, I wouldn’t feel any injuries if there had been any. Don, on the other hand, was having trouble pulling himself from the wreckage.
“Yeah, I saved your butt.” He sat up, propped himself against the vehicle, and crossed his arms.
“By stalking me?” I frowned and checked my watch. There was still enough time to get the dog-napper his money if I ran the rest of the way.
“The sheriff wanted a stakeout to be done on you, because for some reason, he suspects you’re carrying a lot of cash and intend to buy drugs. You’re lucky I was there to volunteer for the detail.” He winced as he tried to move his legs. “Want to tell me about that?”
“I doubt the sheriff wanted you to hide in my truck. There’s got to be some kind of law about that.” I glared at him, crawled back into the truck and emerged with some supplies from my search and rescue container. Then I positioned myself behind his back, pushed my arms underneath his armpits, and dragged him away from the vehicle.
He situated himself on one of the fleece blankets I threw on the ground and leaned against a downed tree trunk. “I’m off duty. I hid in your truck as a friend.”
“That’s bull and you know it. You were spying on me.”
He had the grace to blush. “Yes. As a friend.”
I gulped a quick drink from a water bottle and handed him the rest, then examined his injuries. “You’re not going anywhere, that leg is broken and your shoulder is messed up.”
He ran a hand through his hair. “Avery, what are you up to?”
I stared up at the road. It was obvious no one would see the wrecked vehicle from up there – the embankment was too steep. I grabbed the dog treat bag for Chevy, stuffed it in the hiking pack, and tossed the rest of my snacks at Don’s feet.
“Wait until I’m gone before you call on your radio for help,” I said and started crawling up the steep embankment to the road. “There’s no cell signal out in this part of the forest.”
“It’s not working,” he said in a controlled tone and held up his mangled sheriff’s department issued radio.
“Well, that’s your fault.” I used a branch to pull myself to the top, scrambled to my feet and leaned back over the edge of the road to see him. “I’ll hang some flagging tape on a branch to mark your spot and will send help as soon as I can.”
“What the…?” His face was growing dark red. “What kind of loyalty is that?”
My eyes grew cold as heat flushed through my body. “My first loyalty is to my dog.”
“Wha…?”
There was no more time to waste. I cinched the pack tightly around my waist and sprinted down the road.
Nothing would stop me from getting to Chevy.
Chapter 7
The ten-pound hiking pack flopped on my back as I ran, but I never felt the weight of it. I even checked a couple times to make sure it was still there.
Sweat dripped down my back as I rounded the bend to the Little Log Trail parking area, tears forming in the corner of my eyes when I heard my dog barking. Thankfully, it was a playful bark and that meant Chevy must be okay. I followed the sounds to an old, run-down, faded green pickup parked at the back edge of the dirt lot.
An unfamiliar man rolled out of the driver’s seat, rubbed his crew-cut head and stepped in front of me. A toothpick hung from his lips and beer gut lapped over his belt. He raised a beefy arm and motioned to the open bed of the rusty vehicle. “Get in the back.”
Every bit of instinct told me not to get into a stranger’s vehicle. “Let’s exchange right here.”
Pop music filled the air as a compact car full of hikers zipped into the popular parking area and took a parking spot that was too close for comfort.
The man shook his head and crossed his arms, covering the shotgun design on his t-shirt. “No.”
My body tensed. “I’ve got the money, just give me my dog and we’ll part ways.” I stood on tiptoes and strained to get a look at my dog in the cab of his truck.
He laughed and held up a handheld voice recorder. “It’s just a tape.” He pushed a button and Chevy’s happy barks filled the air again.
Four hikers piled out of their mini car, laughing with the anticipation of a great day ahead. The dog-napper stuffed his hands into his pockets and shut off the recording.
He shifted his feet and watched the hikers as they entered the forest, his eyes lingering on the most handsome, athletic one.
“Last chance,” he said, turning around. He took the toothpick out of his mouth and glanced back. “Don’t worry, I’m not into women.”
He pulled himself into the truck, cranked the engine and the white reverse lights lit up. The man’s arm rose out of the driver’s window with three fingers li
fted in the air. Then two fingers – he was counting it down. My heart raced as motherly instinct slashed away at my fear.
Chevy was like my child. No, he was my child. The man’s hand moved and only one finger was showing. That was it. I raced toward the back of the vehicle and jumped over the tailgate without hesitation.
The truck moved in reverse, making me stumble to my knees on the rusty truck bed. I wedged myself into the front corner near the passenger side as the driver stepped down on the gas. From this position, I was better shielded from wind but also closest to the side of the road, giving me the best chance to escape if things went really bad.
As we fishtailed out of the parking lot and down the road, I pulled Chevy’s special cookies out of the backpack and stuffed them in my back pocket.
It was a short, bumpy ride – maybe a half mile at the most – until we made a hard right turn down a partially secluded dirt drive onto the old Kramer property and slowed. The brick ranch style home and ten acres had gone into foreclosure the previous fall and was already looking pretty run down.
A neon-orange Frisbee floated in the front of the home and Chevy ran under it, making a spectacular catch at the far end of the drive. Before I could shout to my dog, a lean young man with scruffy blond hair noticed the truck approaching, waved to the driver and ushered Chevy into the house.
I was relieved to see my dog proudly carrying the Frisbee as he trotted inside. It looked like Chevy thought he was at doggie day camp. The driver slowly drove down the drive and parked on the side of the home.
“See, we’re friendly enough,” the driver said as he lumbered out of the truck, keeping the truck between him and the residence. He’d put on a dirty green ball cap with ‘Hoss’ embroidered across the front in yellow. “We’re just doin’ some side business.”
