K-9 Blues (Paws & Claws Book 3)

by Ralph Vaughan

  “Take the offer,” Antony urged.

  “Officer Arnold, I’m waiting for an answer.”

  “I’m sorry, sir, but I cannot accept your offer,” Arnold finally said. “Antony is innocent. I know that in my heart. You may believe this evidence, but I don’t. Besides, he is my partner, and I will not abandon him.”

  “Well,” Reese said after a moment. “I am sorry to hear you say that, but the choice is yours.” He looked to Officers Blackie and Hector. “You two are witnesses to this proceeding and its outcome.”

  “Yes, sir,” they replied, Hector much more enthusiastically than Blackie.

  “Officers Antony and Arnold, you are dismissed from the K-9 Unit of the Chula Vista Police Department,” Captain Reese intoned. “You are expelled from our society, deprived of all rights and privileges, and will make no attempt to contact any member of the Unit. You are prohibited from entering this building for any reason. All your investigations will be reassigned, and you will not, under any circumstance or in any way, pursue any investigation or represent yourselves as K-9 officers to any animal or companion in this or any other jurisdiction. Do you understand all I have said?”

  “Yes…yes, sir,” they replied in voices almost too small to hear.

  “Probationary Officer Blackie and Officer Hector,” Reese said. “Remove their vests and identity medallions; escort the civilians from the building. Afterwards, get these kennels cleaned!”

  Abruptly, Captain Reese turned and departed the kennel. Angry voices were heard outside vanishing into the distance.

  “Off with the vests, you two!” Hector ordered harshly.

  Bowing to the inevitable, Antony and Arnold complied.

  “Snap it up!” Hector barked. “Those vests are needed by some real police dogs.”

  “Stop it. Hector!” Blackie shouted. “There’s no need to…”

  “What did you say, Probie?” Hector snarled.

  “Let it go, Blackie,” Arnold advised.

  “Yeah, don’t mess up your probation because of us,” the Cane Corso added. “What’s done is done.”

  “I’m sorry I was sniffing around,” the Doberman whimpered.

  “It was you?” Antony said, but there was no fire in his words, only despair.

  “Shut it!” Hector snapped.

  “I did not know what I was smelling,” Blackie explained. “I should have come to you first.”

  “Yeah, talk yourself out of here with these two curs,” Hector warned, his tone laced with menace. “You want the Captain to take your vest too? That can certainly be arranged.”

  “You wouldn’t…” Blackie started to protest.

  Arnold shouldered the young Doberman. “This is a battle you can’t win, not now. Let it go.”

  “I’m sorry,” Blackie repeated.

  “I know, kid,” Arnold replied. “I know.”

  “Get those identity medallions off them,” Hector ordered. “Use your teeth! Rip the collars off if you have to.”

  The identity medallions clattered to the concrete like sullen iron bells, solemn melancholy bells.

  “Turn around and march,” Hector commanded. “If you want to make us do this the hard way, that’s fine with me.”

  As they departed the kennels, they saw most of the other dogs of the Unit waiting, no doubt ordered to stand by as an object lesson to them all. As they were escorted to the exit, Antony and Arnold forced themselves to hold their heads high, their backs straight, their tails up, for they knew they were innocent of all charges, that they had no reason to feel any shame, no matter what was said against them. They looked at every dog as they passed, but no dog would meet their gazes.

  “Get lost and don’t come back!” Hector snarled once they were outside. He smiled. “Watch out for the dog catcher!”

  Hector left them. Blackie lingered a moment, but there was nothing he could say that would make a whit of difference. He vanished inside. The two outcasts stood alone on the walkway.

  “What do we do now, Antony?”

  “How should I know,” the Cane Corso muttered. “I’m not your alpha, probably should have never been, but I was too arrogant. I will give Captain Reese that much.”

  “You’re still my partner.”

  Antony shook his head. “No, I’m not that either.”

  The big Italian-bred dog started to walk away, heading east and south, toward the path that led into Memorial Park. Arnold ran and caught up with him.

  “Where are you going?” Arnold demanded.

  Antony shrugged. “Don’t know. Don’t care.”

  “We have to find out who planted all that stuff in our kennels,” the Belgian Shepherd insisted. “We have to clear ourselves.”

  “You heard the Captain,” Antony muttered. “No investigations. No contact. Somebody did us in but good.”

  “You can’t let this stand!”

  “I’m not a police dog anymore,” Antony replied. “Neither are you. We’re just…” He voice faltered. “We’re just civilians. We are just a couple of nobodies now. Get used to it.”

  Arnold sighed and said:

  “Tho' much is taken, much abides; and though

  We are not now that strength which in old days

  Moved earth and heaven; that which we are, we are;

  One equal temper of heroic hearts,

  Made weak by time and fate, but strong in will

  To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield.”

  “What is that?” Antony asked.

  “It’s a poem Levi told me about a couple of years ago,” Arnold explained. “They think they have taken everything from us, but we are still the dogs we have always been. Nothing can change that. We cannot yield. We must continue to strive.”

  “You strive,” Antony groaned, walking away from his former partner. “I’m done for.”

  “You’re forgetting, it’s not just about us,” Arnold called.

  Antony turned slowly. “What? What do you mean?”

  “Look what was done to an innocent cat just to destroy us,” the Belgian Shepherd pointed out. “Are you so steeped in self pity that you’re going to let that go unpunished?”

  Antony thought of that small body, that furry face twisted in pain and terror. He closed his eyes, but the image remained. Suddenly he did something he had never done before: he sobbed.

  “No, no I am not,” he said.

  Chapter 3

  The Scottish Terrier waited impatiently on the National City side of the bridge where North Fourth Avenue became Highland Avenue. His wide-set, almond-shaped eyes keenly watched the other end of the bridge. He craned his short neck in an effort to overcome his lack of height. His coat, which was dense, black and extremely curly, was partially covered by the tartan vest he wore, and the pricked ears high up his long narrow head were completely hidden under his tam o’shanter. If the Scottie had a name it was unknown; to one and all he was simply “The Scot,” the dog called whenever there was a National City connection.

  “Aboot bloody time,” The Scot muttered as he saw four dogs appear on the opposite terminus. He chuckled as Levi approached swiftly on those ridiculously long legs of his, with the others doing their best to keep up, even Miss Sunny and the Whippet. “So, ‘at’s the wee laddie finally to coom oot o’ the culd.”

  The others hung back as Levi and The Scot sniffed each other, making what passed in the canine world as chit-chat.

  “Thanks for meeting us on such short notice,” Levi said.

  “Yer bairn cat sed it be urgent,” The Scot said.

  “Antony and Arnold are after Slim Shady.”

  “Ach, those two knapdarlaichs wud make fash fer a kirk dug o’er a drapped bunnet,” The Scot growled. “What’s the lad s’posed to haiv dun?”

  “Biting a companion and stealing from a house,” Levi replied.

  The Scot frowned. “Cron?”

  “He says he didn’t do it,” Levi said. “And I believe him.”

  The Scot nodded. “Guid. Git th
e laddie heyre.”

  Levi glanced back and Slim Shady approached, trembling. He awkwardly sniffed the smaller dog, but jumped when he himself was sniffed.

  “Why afeert, laddie?” The Scot asked.

  Slim Shady looked at Levi in confusion.

  “He wants to know why you’re so afraid?” Levi explained.

  “I’m just nervous about going to a home,” Slim Shady said. “I was abandoned by my former companions a year ago.”

  The Scot bumped the Whippet’s foreleg and said something, Slim Shady had no idea what, but it at least sounded comforting.

  The Scot turned and started away. After a few steps he stopped and looked back.

  “Go with The Scot,” Levi said. “He’s a little hard to understand but he’ll take care of you, see that you get settled in. He has a home where you are needed, a lonely elderly companion. She has been waiting for you for quite awhile.”

  Slim Shady tilted his head in confusion.

  “I spoke to The Scot about you several months ago,” Levi said.

  “Thank you, Levi.” He looked up. “Thanks to all of you; thank you for believing in me. I will never forget this.”

  The Scot barked impatiently.

  “You had better get going,” Levi advised. “The Scot may have a heart of gold – though he does his best to hide it – but he’ll also give you a good nip if you dawdle.”

  Forewarned, Slim Shady nodded his final thanks to the three dogs, then turned and smartly caught up with the compactly built Scottie, who then set off faster than anyone would have thought possible on such short legs. They watched until the two dogs had vanished over the rise of the hill.

  “Do you think the poor dear will be okay?” Sunny asked.

  “He’ll do just fine,” Levi said.

  “Then we can get back home,” Yoda said.

  “No, we’re just getting started,” Levi countered.

  “I thought the goal was to get Slim Shady out of reach of Antony and Arnold,” Sunny said.

  “Getting Slim Shady safely to a new home was the least of our problems,” Levi asserted.

  “Am I missing something?” Yoda asked.

  “Probably no more than usual,” Sunny said, grinning.

  “What both of you are missing is that we have three mysteries still confronting us,” Levi said. “Firstly, who set Slim Shady up to take a fall and why; then there’s the question of who gave Antony and Arnold the false information about Slim Shady and told them where to find him this morning.”

  “Yeah, that’s right,” Yoda agreed. “It’s unlikely they would have stumbled over him accidentally.”

  “What the third mystery, Levi?” Sunny asked.

  “The most mysterious thing of all,” Levi replied. “Who is the masked dog that other dogs call ‘Master’?”

  “Yes, I agree we must investigate those things,” Sunny said, “but can we get off this bridge first?”

  As if to underscore Sunny’s concerns, a speeding auto passed too close for comfort.

  “Yeah,” Yoda said. “Roadkill can’t investigate nothing.”

  They turned southward and headed for the familiar environs of Chula Vista. Rather than veering through the parking lot between McDonald’s and Target, which would have taken them to the most northern reaches of Fifth Avenue, they continued along Fourth, till they reached C Street.

  “I don’t like this way, Levi,” Sunny said as they approached the busy intersection. “Too many cars going too fast.”

  “None of the drivers seem to be paying attention to anything,” Yoda added.

  “We need to go to Memorial Park,” Levi said. “While we could get there by going on up the hill on Fourth, I think it would be better if we did not go past the police department building.”

  “That could be awkward,” Yoda suggested.

  “We could also get there by crossing with the light down at Fifth and C,” Sunny said. “We could go up Fifth till we come to G Street and approach the park from the south.”

  “Park Avenue cuts up from Fifth, doesn’t it?” Yoda said.

  Sunny shook her head vehemently. “Can’t go that way!”

  “Why?” Yoda asked.

  “No crossing lights, four wide lanes, speeding cars and lunatic drivers,” Sunny replied.

  “We’ll be fine,” Yoda said.

  “Well, I’m mostly worried about you, you know,” Sunny said.

  “Me?” Yoda exclaimed. “I can take care of myself crossing a street. I am no puny pup still trying to open his eyes!”

  “But those little legs!” Sunny said, then snapped her mouth closed, realizing she had said too much.

  “I can keep up with the best of them,” the pugnacious little Pom asserted. “I can even cross a street by myself. I certainly don’t need anyone herding me…”

  “Okay, Yoda, forget I said anything,” Sunny sighed.

  “I’m just saying…”

  Suddenly Yoda and Sunny realized they were alone on the corner, that Levi had started off the curb at the changing of the light. Both rather embarrassed that they had been caught napping, so to speak, they rushed to catch up with the sturdy little Dachshund-mix before he had gone more than a few paces. Though the light was in their favor, they traveled with the utmost caution and awareness.

  Crossing any street, especially one as wide and busy as this one was with a two-lane left-turn area, was ever a mixture of excitement and terror. While the operatives of the Three Dog Detective Agency were old paws at such excursions, and had in their time negotiated everything from rutted tracks to trolley train corridors to the vast expanse of Broadway, familiarity did not inoculate them from experiencing all the fears inherent in a dog’s basic nature. The difference between them and other canine citizens, however, what they did not let those fears control or limit them.

  Once on the other side, Sunny let out a heavy sigh of relief.

  “That…” Yoda panted “…was…one…wide…street!”

  “You two okay?” Levi asked.

  Sunny nodded. “But I still think we should have gone up Fifth.”

  “Even approaching from G Street would put us within sight of the police building,” Levi explained. “When Arnold and Antony see we are not at home, that Slim Shady is not there, they will not only search for us but set others on our trail. We need to investigate this case without undue interference from the K-9 Unit.”

  “I thought the point was to get back to the house before they came back,” Yoda said.

  “That was before we knew this was about more than just Slim Shady,” Levi replied. “I have a feeling that this may prove to be the biggest case of our careers.”

  “Well, that’s saying a lot,” Sunny commented.

  “Especially when you consider the case of the…” Yoda started to say, then trailed into silence. The wild-haired Pomeranian tilted his head attentively, lifted his muzzle slightly and took a long, slow sniff of the air. His eyes took on a soft and dreamy quality. “Ahhh.”

  “What are you…” Levi sniffed the air. “Oh, I see.”

  “What the…” Sunny gazed in the direction both the other dogs were sniffing. “Well, it has been a long time since breakfast.”

  “Indeed it has,” Yoda said, following where his nose led.

  Levi sighed. “We don’t have time for this.”

  “It would take longer to talk him out of it,” Sunny remarked.

  Bowing to the irresistible power of Yoda’s stomach, Levi and Sunny followed the Pomeranian as he crossed the parking lot at Jack in the Box, keeping watch for cars since Yoda’s mind was now as single-tracked as a monorail.

  Approaching the rear door of the fast-food restaurant, Yoda barked in a rapid staccato. The door opened a crack, then shut; a few moments later it opened again, and three Breakfast Jacks, with bacon of course, were placed on the ground. After the requisite pat on the head, the dogs were left to enjoy their repast, which they devoured in short order. Yoda set himself to bark again, but Levi stopped him. />
  “Never abuse kindness,” Levi said, and set off.

  Sunny followed close behind him. After a scant moment, Yoda also trailed after, grumbling softly all the way.

  After regaining the sidewalk, the three dogs formed a tight-knit group, almost abreast, with Levi only slightly in the lead. Here, they could not use their most common formation, Levi in the lead with the other two a length behind, which was the most efficient mode of travel for a small pack, for they were now traversing what was easily the most dangerous, and potentially deadly, portion of the trek, even more so than crossing the busy and chaotic intersection. This entire section of the block was taken up by the Chula Vista office of the Department of Motor Vehicles, a nexus of bad driving if there ever was one. They all breathed a sigh of relief once they put it behind them.

  C Street heading east was a long sweeping avenue on a steep incline that eventually curved south into Third Avenue. The dogs followed the curve of the walkway and finally found themselves on the relatively flat plane of Third Avenue, just outside the Fredericka Manor, a convalescent hospital and retirement community; at least once every two months, the dogs showed up and were allowed to wander through the wards, visiting the lost and the lonely, the sick and the dying.

  Fighting guilt pangs, for they knew that every day was always someone’s last day, the dogs continued on Third across E Street and entered the city’s business district. Realizing the need to keep a low profile, they slipped through a breezeway between two buildings and continued down the narrow one-way alley that ran parallel to Third. It was quiet and cool and vacant.

  They crossed Davidson Avenue, then F Street. Another short breezeway allowed a return to Third Avenue, emerging across the street from Memorial Park.

  “Sunny, please take a look and see if there is anything going on in the park that might affect us,” Levi requested.

  Sunny nodded, leaped onto a walkway bench and stood with her front paws on a concrete planter. Of the three dogs, her vision was the most acute. She peered deep into the tree-studded park and slowly swung her large head back and forth.

  “Nothing out of the ordinary,” she reported when she returned to the two smaller dogs. “A few dogs on and off leashes but no one who seems suspicious. And no K-9 officers.”