"Don't look now," Lia said, "but we're being followed."
The service road ended at the top of the hill, in front of a picnic shelter. The Mount Airy Dog Park consisted of six acres along the top of a narrow ridge at the former High Point picnic area. The picnic shelter separated two fenced enclosures. Lia nudged Desiree to the right, toward the one-acre enclosure for small dog breeds, which was empty.
“Take Chewy and Honey and go on through the entrance corral. I’ll hang back and hold the first gate open. You stand on the other side of the corral. Hold the inside gate open, but don’t look at her. When she runs through, I’ll shut my gate.”
Desiree did as directed. Lia held the outside gate to the corral open while Julia ran circles in the picnic shelter. She stopped when she realized no one was paying attention to her. She spied the open gate and the dogs inside the fence. She zoomed through both gates and into the middle of the enclosure. Lia let the gate swing shut with a loud clang. Startled by the noise, Julia stopped and turned around, gaping in betrayed disbelief. Desiree unclipped Honey and Chewy. Chewy made a beeline for the beguiling Beagle and the pair ran off together.
“How did you know she’d follow?” Desiree asked.
“It was a hunch. Peter's dog does that, stays just out of reach when she could easily outrun me, and I’ve been able to catch her by tricking her into following Chewy and Honey into a fenced yard. Taking advantage of their social instincts is the easiest way to nab loose dogs, so long as they’re friendly.”
After a brief period, they crossed to the other fenced area. The the dogs shot into the larger enclosure, dashing across the acreage. This side of the park was populated with old picnic tables and older trees.
They passed by two men perched on top of a picnic table, smoking cigarettes. A pair of black labs and a buff-colored Mastiff sprawled in the mulch beside them.
"Hey, Lia, who's your friend?" a handsome white-haired gentleman called out.
The women turned around and joined the men at the table.
"Charlie, Jose, this is Desiree. She works with me at the scoring center."
"You like doing that, Desiree?" Charlie asked.
Desiree tilted her head and batted her eyes at Charlie. ”It's okay for seasonal work. I like reading all the answers. The kids can be really funny."
"Hey, Lia, I got a joke for you."
Jose groaned and shook his head.
“Really, Charlie, you don’t have to.” Lia leaned over. "Run,” she whispered to Desiree. “Do not pass go."
"I like jokes," Desiree said, smiling at Charlie and waving Lia off.
Charlie nodded at Desiree with an amused twist of his mouth, took a drag from his cigarette, blew out the smoke.
"What do you say to a woman with two black eyes?"
"Excuse me?" Desiree blinked.
"Nothin.’ You already told her . . . Twice,” Charlie concluded, slapping his knee as he roared with laughter. “How’s that for politically incorrect humor?"
Desiree's face turned stormy. "What are you pigs laughing at? Domestic violence isn't funny."
"Did she just call us what I thought she called us?" Charlie asked Jose.
"And you wonder why you can’t get a date.” Jose turned to Desiree. “Hey, it’s his joke. I didn’t say nothin’."
"And I suppose you think domestic violence is a laughing matter?" She zeroed in on Charlie.
"Whoa, now, it's just a joke. I would never hit a woman."
"No, you just condone an atmosphere of intimidation against women. Do you have any idea how many women are beaten every day by their husbands? Do you know that one out of three murdered females is killed by a husband or boyfriend?" Desiree was in tears.
"Hey, you guys have Lorena Bobbit,” Charlie said.
“And only one in 25 murdered men is killed by a domestic partner?”
“Whoa,” Charlie protested. “I’m just a dumb redneck. I don't mean nothin' by it. All you have to do is tell me I’m not funny. You don't have to make a federal case out of it."
Lia tugged on Desiree's arm. "Let's go find the dogs before they get into trouble."
Desiree stumbled after Lia. "Ignorant assholes like you are what's wrong with the world!" she shouted over her shoulder. "Some friends you've got," she accused Lia.
"Here, let's climb up on this picnic table. I'm sorry about that. I should have warned you about Charlie."
"What, that he's a misogynistic son of a bitch?"
"Charlie likes to tell me the worst jokes he hears. He doesn’t believe that stuff. I won't excuse him, but if you were broken down by the side of the road, he’d be the first person to stop and help you."
“If he pulls up while I’m stuck on the side of the road, I’m going to taser him.”
“You meet all kinds up here, conservatives, liberals, hipsters and rednecks but they all care about their dogs. They at least have that as a redeeming quality.”
“I guess,” Desiree grumbled.
"This is my table.” The table was identical to four they’d passed by. “We sit on top so the dogs don’t slam into our legs while they’re running around.”
Desiree laid her key-fob down and climbed up to join Lia.
A tall, willow-thin woman walked up, followed by her lanky Bloodhound. Chewy and Julia tagged along, dancing around the dignified dog. There was a certain strength about the woman, perhaps in the lift of her chin and the firm set of her shoulders. She waved a long graceful hand. “What’s with Charlie and Jose? They said we had a crazy woman in the park. Are you the crazy woman?” she asked Desiree.
“Desiree, meet Bailey. Kita is the poor hound trying to ignore Chewy.” Lia turned to Bailey. “Charlie just told her a domestic violence joke," Lia said.
Bailey shook her head and rolled her eyes, her chin-length red hair swinging around her face in emphasis. “If it makes you feel any better, Charlie says stuff like that when he thinks you’re cute.”
“Gee. He likes me. I’m thrilled,” Desiree deadpanned.
Lia laughed. “I see you’ve met Julia,” she told Bailey.
“Is this your dog?” Bailey asked. “She’s adorable. I’ve never seen such big eyes.”
Julia bounced up on the table and wiggled around Desiree. Chewy, who had never figured out how to jump up on the table, whined.
“Looks like Julia’s made a conquest,” Bailey said.
Desiree hugged Julia. “All the guys are after you. It’s a curse.”
“I hope she’s spayed,” Bailey said.
“Desiree works at the scoring center with me and Terry," Lia said.
“I wished they scored in the winter, when I’m not working,” Bailey said. "I could use the extra income then. Nobody wants their yards mowed in January.”
“Bailey has a gardening business,” Lia explained.
“Thus the grass stains,” Bailey said, gesturing to her knees with a graceful hand that should have been turning letters on TV.
“Desiree has a secret admirer. Did you ever find out who left that little man on your car?”
“No, and a couple days ago, I found a shoebox with a scene in it on my steps. A little foil boy and a little foil girl sitting on a bench, holding hands. There was a tiny little Beagle sitting next to them.”
“That’s so sweet! Have you figured who it is?” Lia asked.
“No, and I’ve been looking.”
“Doesn't it creep you out, just a little,” Bailey asked, “knowing that someone is sneaking around you like that?”
“Bailey, you have no romance in your soul,” Lia said. “Anyway, I think Desiree can take care of herself. You should have seen her handing Charlie his rump on a plate. She’s small, but she’s mighty.”
Lia looked at her phone. “I’ve got to run. I’m meeting Alma in an hour.”
“I’ve got to go pick up plants,” Bailey said.
“Don’t leave me here,” Desiree said. “I’m coming with you.” She felt around on the table top for her key-fob, finding nothing. She turned around, se
arching. “Where are my keys? They were right here.” She climbed off the table, looked underneath. Still nothing.
“You’re missing something else,” Lia said. “Where’s Julia?”
“Julia!” Desiree jumped up and scanned the four acre enclosure. “That dirty little sneak thief, I bet she has them. Julia! This isn’t funny!”
“She has to be inside the fence, at least,” Bailey said.
“I hope she still has the keys,” Lia said. “Otherwise we’ll have to get Terry down here with his metal detector.”
“Oh, no,” Desiree moaned. “Where is that dog?”
Lia looked towards the front of the park. Several dogs were playing together. Julia wasn’t one of them. “Let’s walk to the back fence. If we don’t see her, we can head back up front. We need to pay attention to the side slopes. It’s easy to miss dogs down by the fence-line."
They were almost to the rear of the park when they heard a hollow clanging.
“What’s that?” Desiree asked.
“The agility tunnel,” Bailey and Lia said in unison.
They veered towards a set of enameled steel agility equipment that had been donated to the park.
“Bailey, get on the far side, in case she tries to run off.” Lia and Desiree waited until Bailey circled around the eight foot long tube, then approached the opening. The clanging continued. Lia bent over and peered inside. Julia grabbed up the fob and headed for the opposite end. She found Bailey cutting off her escape and turned back around. She sat in the middle of the tunnel, stymied.
“Whatever you do, don’t yell at her,” Lia advised Desiree.
“She’s my dog, I can yell at her if I want to.”
“True, but she’s not likely to come to you if you’re yelling.”
“Oh. I guess you’re right.” Desiree knelt at the mouth of the tunnel. “Here, baby doll, come to Mommy. Who’s the prettiest little Beagle girl in Cincinnati? Come, Julia! That’s a girl!”
Julia came out but struggled to maintain her grip on the keys. Desiree wrested them away, then wiped a drool-drenched hand on her jeans.
“Ugh! Look at this! Teeth marks! I can’t believe you did this!” Desiree shook the key-fob at Julia, who responded with a mutinous expression. “And don’t look at me that way.”
“Maybe it will still work,” Bailey offered.
“It had better. It costs a fortune to replace it.”
They headed for the front gate, a recalcitrant Julia in tow. Honey, Chewy and Kita trotted along with smug looks on their faces.
“I bet your dogs never do stuff like that,” Desiree said.
“Does she often take things?” Lia asked.
“Underwear, TV remotes, phones, kitchen utensils, you name it, she’ll steal it. She likes to hide stuff, too.”
“You ever try distracting her with toys?” Bailey asked.
“She had a squeaky toy, but it drove me crazy. I threw it out when she chewed it up. She still wants Mommy’s stuff. It tastes better than dog food, doesn’t it, Julia?”
“Try hiding her kibble around the apartment instead of feeding it to her in a bowl. Finding her food will keep her Beagle instincts too busy to get into your stuff," Lia said.
“Won’t the kibble leave crumbs everywhere?”
Lia shrugged, holding her hands out with the palms up. She lifted her left hand. “Kibble crumbs.” Her right hand. “Hundred dollar electronic key fob and your sanity. You choose. Besides, I bet she won’t leave any crumbs.”
“Truth,” Bailey said.
As they were loading their dogs into their respective cars, Lia glanced over at the windshield of Desiree’s Honda. “What’s that?” She pointed to a small silver figure propped up by the driver’s side wiper, leaning on the glass. It was peering into the car with its tiny hands shielding its eyes.
The women gathered around the offering.
“How did that get here?” Desiree asked. “Did either of you see anyone around the car?”
Lia and Bailey shook their heads.
“I didn’t notice any strange cars, but I wasn’t paying attention to the parking lot,” Lia said. “Maybe Charlie or Jose saw something. I'll go back up and ask around.”
“Oh, don’t bother,” Desiree said. She plucked the figure off her car and held it up to look at it closer. “He is kind of cute.” She tossed it onto the passenger seat.
“How many of these have you gotten?” Lia asked.
“This is the third one that’s just by itself. Then there was that box scene—what do you call those?”
“Diorama,” Bailey and Lia said automatically.
“That’s it. Just one of those,” Desiree said. “Whoever he is, I wish he’d show himself. This is starting to get weird. I mean, I was right here. Why didn’t he just give it to me?”
“He’s shy; he’s unattractive or otherwise inappropriate and thinks you’ll reject him; or he’s a deranged serial killer who wants to drive you bonkers before he finishes you off by carving his initials into your heart with an ice pick.” Bailey ticked these options off on her fingers.
“Gee, thanks for putting that in my head,” Desiree said.
“Why don’t you talk to Peter?” Bailey asked Lia. “Maybe he could get fingerprints off this stuff.”
“Unlikely,” Lia said. “He says "CSI" has given everyone unrealistic expectations about what can be done with forensic science and police budgets. And they’d never do it for a case where there is no obvious threat.
“Desiree,” she continued, “have you noticed anything out of place at your house, anything strange? If this guy’s a stalker, he may be breaking into your apartment. Check your underwear drawer, see if anyone’s been in it. Pay attention to your laundry basket. He could be stealing your dirty undies.”
“Eeeewww.” Desiree grimaced. “You think he’s snorting my panties? I’d rather he was a deranged serial killer.”
“I don’t know about that,” Lia said, thinking about the deranged serial killer she’d confronted not so long ago. She let Honey and Chewy back out of her Volvo. “But I’m going back up to ask around about strange cars. I’ll call you if I find out anything.”
The Watcher sat in his car in McFarlan Woods, mesmerized by the blinking light on his smart phone as he monitored the GPS device on Desiree’s car. He toyed with the lock of hair he’d painstakingly collected from her brush, flicking the ends across his lips as he considered his next move.
McFarlan Woods sat next to the dog park. He’d stashed his car there and followed one of the trails to the dog park. The Watcher originally planned a quick dash to her car to plant the doll, then back into the woods where he could see her reaction to the little offering. Once he got there, he realized there was a chance a loose dog in the parking lot would smell him in the woods and expose him. So he sat in his car to see where she was going. Probably home, since she had Julia with her.
The Watcher felt a gaping hole in his chest as her car pulled further and further away from him, a plunge from the heady excitement of leaving his offering on her car.
He’d taken a huge risk this time. Anyone at the park could have seen him, had they chosen to look down at the lot from the ridge where dogs and their owners gathered. His heart pounded in his ears when a meandering Schnauzer yipped at him from behind the fence. Now the capricious organ dropped into his stomach, resuming the familiar dull ache that kept him listless and depressed unless she was around. He could barely eat and was losing weight.
His only relief came when he reviewed his surveillance videos, or when he broke into her apartment to swap out SD cards. He found himself spending more and more time at her place during these excursions. He knew it was dangerous, but it was such pleasure being where she spent her nights, touching the towels she dried her creamy skin with, inhaling the essence of her lingering on the sheets.
Desiree was an indifferent housekeeper and left her bed unmade. This made it easy for him to lay on her bed, share her pillow. He liked to close his eyes and imag
ine her lying next to him.
The blinking dot stopped moving, pulling him out of his revery. She wasn’t home. The dot was miles away, in the parking lot behind Ludlow Avenue. What would she be doing there? It occurred to him that patrons often took dogs into Om Cafe, the metaphysical restaurant above the lot. If he hurried, he could bump into her there. He could do that, couldn’t he? It would be an accident. At least, she would think it was.
“I’m worried about Desiree,” Lia told Peter.
They sat in her kitchen, sharing an Edgar Allen Poe pizza from Dewey’s while the dogs watched and drooled. Peter ripped a crust into three pieces and tossed them to the dogs. Honey snatched hers out of the air, Chewy snapped at his and missed, then snuffled around the floor looking for it, and Viola sat with a look of disbelief on her face that he would assault her with flying food.
Peter picked up the offending bit of crust and offered it to Viola on his open palm. “Here you go, your highness.” Viola sniffed at the crust, then delicately nibbled it out of his palm. She laid it on the floor and licked it twice, then ate it in one gulp.
Lia shook her head. “When are you going to stop trying to get her to act like a regular dog? It’s beneath her.”
“I keep hoping. Why are you worried about Desiree?”
“Someone’s been leaving her these little dolls made out of foil, and she has no idea who’s doing it.”
“How do you make a doll out of foil?”
“I’m not sure, but it looks like one piece of foil crunched up so that it holds its shape. I bet it’s easy if you figure out how. I thought it was cute at first. Now it’s getting creepy.”
“What is it that’s disturbing you?”
“The dolls are cute and they look harmless. It’s just that one popped up while we were at the park today. Someone knew she was at the park or went to the trouble of following her there, and they chose to leave something on her car instead of saying something to her. Why doesn’t he just ask her out on a date?”
“I seem to recall leaving plants outside your studio door,” Peter rubbed the back of his neck and gave Lia a wry twist of his mouth.
“That’s different. I knew it was you. And it was very sweet. Desiree doesn’t have a clue who’s doing this.”
Sneak Thief (A Dog Park Mystery) Page 3
