K-9 Blues (Paws & Claws Book 3)

by Ralph Vaughan

  “No doubt, I suppose,” Antony admitted. “But who, and how can we find out? Our only hope for getting back into the K-9 Unit just went that-a-way.”

  “We need a contact on the inside,” Arnold stated.

  “Any suggestions, Arnold? Anyone we approach might be the traitor, or might betray us simply out of a sense of duty.”

  “I have an idea.”

  “Who?”

  “Blackie.”

  Antony gaped. “The Doberman? The probie?”

  “Have you ever talked to him?”

  “Just to snap at him,” Antony replied. “You have to keep a probie in line or they go all lax and sloppy.”

  “Well, I have talked to him,” Arnold said. “He smart and he is eager to become a great K-9 officer. Don’t let it go to your head, but he wants to be like you.”

  “He does?”

  “You’re his idol.”

  “I am?”

  Arnold smiled. “Yeah, I can’t figure out why either.”

  Antony’s doubting frown quickly passed away. “So your plan is to put our lives and careers, what’s left of them anyway, into the raw and inexperienced paws of a probie?”

  “That’s about it.”

  Antony sighed. “You’re the boss…this time.”

  The abandoned citrus warehouse

  Chapter 9

  Swoon was quite happy when she found out there was no need to go back up the tree she had come down. In fact, she rode up to her apartment clinging to Yoda; unlike the shorter-haired dogs, she could have clawed at his thick and wild fur all day and still never found the dog within.

  “Ouch!” Yoda complained when they removed Swoon once in the apartment.

  “Sorry, Yoda,” Swoon said. “I tried to let go before they pulled me off, but your fur…it’s so soft and thick. I could settle in for a nice long nap. It would be so warm.”

  “No, you can’t,” Yoda grumbled, thinking of all the trouble Little Kitty gave him on cold winter nights.

  “Oh, well,” the British Shorthair sighed. “At least I can tell my friends how I rode…”

  “Not a word about it!” Yoda snapped.

  “You have to think of Yoda’s feelings,” Ajax told his little friend. “He helped you up the stairs when you could not make it yourself. You can’t embarrass a detective who helps you.”

  “Okay,” Swoon finally agreed “I guess so.”

  “I should have let Sunny carry you by the scruff,” Yoda said.

  Swoon’s big eyes grew even larger. “I could not chance that some cat might see me being carried that way by a dog. It would have been so very embarrassing…oh!” Understanding washed over her. “I will not tell anyone.”

  “You better not,” Yoda warned.

  “That’s very nice of you, dear, but don’t let Yoda scare you,” Sunny said. “After all, a cat is hardly the strangest thing he’s hidden in that fur of his.”

  Swoon’s expression brightened. “Tell me all about it.”

  “No!” Yoda snapped.

  “Not right now,” Sunny said softly. “Perhaps some other time.”

  “We have other things to talk about at the moment,” Levi said decisively. “When we got you out of that wood pile, Swoon, you said you were hiding from some dogs.”

  “Yes, there were lots of dogs there,” Swoon confirmed. “But one of them was different from all the others, and not just because he wore a mask.”

  “The Master!” Yoda gasped.

  “Yes, that was what the others called him,” Swoon said. “How did you know that?”

  They moved into the kitchen area, where there was more room and they were out of sight of the doorway. Levi settled into the Sphinx Position, his friends following suit. Ajax lay behind Swoon.

  “Swoon, we are involved in an investigation and this dog called the Master figures into it heavily,” Levi said. “Please tell us how you came to be in that abandoned warehouse and what happened inside. Try to leave nothing out, as even the smallest detail might be important.”

  “All right, I’ll try,” the little cat agreed. “It all began with the dogs in the night.”

  It all began (Swoon said) with the dogs in the night. I was wandering around the apartment opening cabinets and cupboards, not because I was really looking for anything, but mostly because I can. Well, I suppose I was looking for yarn to play with, balls of yarn to roll around in the darkness, skeins of yarn to wrestle with. I realize that must not seem like much to a dog, but it keeps me occupied. Not only does it keep me from getting bored but since the yarn seems to be hidden in a different place every time I look, it is a constant challenge. My favorite kind of yarn…

  Well, yes, I don’t suppose the yarn has much to do with what happened later, but it does explain why I was up and about when the dogs were in the abandoned lot. Of course, at first I did not know there were dogs in the lot, just a strange sound. Sounds rise up all the time, and since the window is always open, even if only a little, I hear them all. Usually I ignore them because they are just the wind or ferals or birds, but this time it was different, a kind of squeaking noise accompanied by the pads of many paws. I had already made up my mind to look out the window when I heard a sound like no other sound I had ever heard. In a way it seem like the baying of a gigantic hound, but…different.

  I moved from the bed to the window sill and looked down into the abandoned lot. I saw a bunch of dogs…a pack, yes, of course you are correct…a pack of dogs moving through the darkness. It was strange enough seeing them move across that lot in formation, but what really made it odd was that one of the dogs was pulling a cart of some kind. I had never seen anything like it before, a big dog pretending he was a small horse. There was something in the cart but I could not see what.

  The dogs were grouped around the cart as it moved, but leading them were three of the largest dogs I’ve ever seen. Two of them, I knew, were Dobermans, but the third one, the one that was really in control of the others was like no dog I had ever seen, much bigger, very muscular, with coarse fur marked in odd patterns. As soon as I saw the procession I knew I was going to slip out and see what was going on, but what really sealed it in my mind was that lead dog. The moon and the greenish sky-glow were bright enough to let me see details, so I could not miss that this dog wore a mask. A mask! Now why would a dog as unusual as all that wear a mask?

  So I slipped out through the cut screen and made my way down the tree, keeping watch on them all the way. No, they weren’t coming in from the east, from Fourth; they could not possibly get that cart through the fence opening up there – yes, I know all about that. They were approaching the warehouse from the south, from Park…there must be an opening in one of the backyards that a cart like that can fit through.

  Anyway, when I hopped down from the fence one of the dogs was nearby, but he did not see me. I guess he had been sent out to make sure everything was clear, but the big goof never even knew I was there. Not exactly a seeing-eye dog, if you know what I mean. I kept low and stalked him all the way back to the warehouse.

  They had that cart on the loading dock at the end of the place, and I positioned myself where I could keep an eye on it. The dog was out of the harness by then.

  That dog in the mask then uttered that same howl I heard before and the others waited. I admit that when I heard it up close and loud I shivered. Something in me responded to it, and not in a good way. It was almost as if I had heard it somewhere before, but like maybe in a dream, or a nightmare.

  The other dogs were still waiting around, and it wasn’t long before I found out what they were waiting for. Dogs came out of the darkness heading for the warehouse, coming from all directions except from our apartments ‘cause there was no way through the fence, or didn’t used to be. I kept down out of sight, and I was hoping that none of them could smell me, some of the dogs being scent hounds, but it turned out that needn’t have worried me. Some of the dogs came close enough to brush fur with me, but none of them was paying attention to anyt
hing but the dog in the mask, like they had all gone tharn, like that strange dog in the mask was “dog” spelled backwards, if you know what I mean.

  The dog in the mask sat back on his haunches, with the two big Dobermans positioned in front on either side, as if to keep the other dogs from coming too close. Those new dogs got in a single line, approaching the masked dog when they were told to do so. When a dog came in front of the masked dog, he would bow, stretching his paws way before him and opening his mouth like he was nervous, then submit, you know, going on his back with all paws walking in air, and what was weird about it was that most of those dogs were not of the type to submit to anyone or anything; they were rough boys who were usually the submitees, if you get my meaning.

  When each dog had groveled long enough, the masked dog would growl, and even his growl was peculiar, all whispery and low. Then the submitting dog would get off his back, bow again, then go over to the cart where one of the original dogs would give him some of whatever was in the back – it was all wrapped up, so I never did see what they were giving out.

  This lasted for perhaps an hour, maybe more. Now, there was one dog who came in answer to that howl and waited in line like the others. When it came time to bow and roll over like everyone else, he refused. A Bulldog, I think. One of the Dobermans moved in and pushed him to the ground. Then the masked dog looked into his eyes. From where I was hiding I could see the masked dog’s eyes, and they were glowing green.

  I know, weird, right? Dogs don’t have green eyes, at least none I’ve seen. Even when light shines into a dog’s eyes it comes back as brown or black or yellow, sometimes even gray or blue, but green? It was like green fire. Even though I was not looking straight into those eyes, they gave me the chills, so I can only imagine that the pinned Bulldog was not far from having the screaming mimis. I thought they might put the Bulldog to sleep, but instead the masked dog, the Master you call him, leaned close, opened his mouth and drew one of his fangs across the neck. After they let him bleed for a few seconds, the Bulldog was allowed to stand. Did he give them any trouble after that? You’d best believe not! He bowed lower than the others and submitted longer. But, get this, when he went over to the cart all he got was a snarl and snap, not any of the packages. He had to slink off into the darkness with his tail between his legs, such as a Bulldog has a tail, if you know what I mean,

  After that, no one even thought of standing up to the Master. The dogs couldn’t bow low enough or submit fast enough, or, for that matter, take their package and run off fast enough.

  When the last of the dogs vanished into the darkness, some of the dogs that came with the Master came up, went through the ritual and got their packages. Then they went off too. Only a few dogs stayed with the Master besides the Dobermans, but I got the idea that nothing would ever pull them from the Master’s side. The cart was empty by then, and that was when the Master and his dogs went inside the warehouse.

  I suppose I could have headed back home then, and probably should have. None of the dogs had detected me, and even if they saw me now it was unlikely any of them, even the Dobermans, could have nabbed me before I scampered my way up the fence and into the tree. But I was curious what they were going to do inside the warehouse…I suppose that old saying that we cats hate so much is really rather more true than not.

  So, anyway, I stalk-slinked my way to the warehouse. I knew I did not want to go in the way they had, but that place is not far from falling to pieces, with more holes in it than you could throw mice through. I found a way inside through the foundation, then crawled out a break in the floorboards.

  The whole interior was in shadow, with only hints of moonlight and the sky-glow drifting down through gaps in the roof, but the Master was in even deeper shadow, the Dobermans still forming a barrier between him and the remaining dogs.

  “I want all of you to follow up with the tributary alphas,” the Master whispered. “Make sure their packs know to whom they owe ultimate fealty. If there are any lapses, bring the offending alpha to me at the place by the water. Is this clear?”

  The dogs murmured that it was.

  “What should we do about Boris, Master,” asked one of the dogs, a Black Labrador.

  “Do not concern yourself about Boris,” the Master whispered. “He is carrying out the plan that was discussed earlier, though he is ignorant about the more important aspects of the plan. If you really are concerned about Boris, you could join him, help him…share his fate. Is that what you are suggesting, Caller?”

  “No, Master,” the Labrador blurted, bowing as he spoke and backing away at the same time. “No, of course not, Master. I just thought that…”

  At a sound from the Master, one of the Dobermans leaped out, knocking the other dog down. The Labrador continued crawfishing away, whimpering.

  “Do not think, Caller,” the Master whispered. “You are not equipped for it.”

  As Caller crawled back, so the other dogs backed away. I had never seen dogs so terrified of another dog before. And those dogs that had come in earlier, they must be the alphas they were talking about, right? So what kind of dog was the Master that even tough alphas would bow before him?

  I moved to get a better look and that was when I nearly got caught. The little bell in my collar tinkled. During the crawl across the lot and while wriggling up through the floor, I had kept it from tinkling. I mean, just because someone manages to “bell the cat” that doesn’t mean I have to let it tinkle…it only takes concentration to keep that from happening. But I guess I was so fascinated by what was going on and with trying to get a better look at the Master that I forgot about the bell.

  The Master whipped around, the Dobermans started growling, and all the other dogs went on high alert. I was closer to that pile of wood where you found me than I was where I had come up through the floor, and, besides, I didn’t stand a chance of making it back without being seen. So I made my way in. Immediately, though, the collar became snagged on a splinter, and as I eased out of it, the splinter cut me.

  I was now inside the wood pile, but my collar was outside it, right where it could be found, and even I could smell my blood on it. The Master raised his muzzle and sniffed.

  “There is blood,” the Master whispered. “Can you smell it?”

  The other dogs were sniffing the air as well, but they seemed not to pick up the scent. While they filled the building with the sounds of their sniffing, I moved even deeper into the pile of wood. I was hoping no one would hear me over their own sounds.

  Finally, one of the dogs, a Rottweiler, said: “All I smell is the blood from the rebellious tribute.”

  The other dogs agreed with the Rottweiler, but it was easy to see they were nervous about not agreeing with the Master.

  “Dullards!” the Master sneered in that whispery voice of his. “If you all are best examples of the breed, then the Kolignosae have degenerated to a most abased state. You are but inferior shadows cast by your ancestors. You sicken me.”

  The dogs all debased themselves. Only the Dobermans did not share in the humiliation. They stared at the dogs in the same haughty manner as did the Master.

  “Enough of your sniveling,” the Master announced, and the dogs returned to their attentive state. “Go. Carry out your orders. We shall return to the place by the water. Go now.”

  The dogs cleared out of the warehouse, almost as glad to go as I was glad to see them go. I dared not breathe a sigh of relief, however, because the Master and the two Dobermans were still there, still tense. Though I was deep into the pile, I could still see them, and my fear was that they might see me.

  The Master made a whispery sound I did not understand, and the Dobermans moved off, heading out the way they had entered. The Master lingered, looking about and still occasionally sniffing at the air. He moved into the moonlight, and that was when I got my first good look at the Master.

  I told you he was like no dog I had ever seen. Until he stepped out of the shadows, I did not realize just how diff
erent he was. If I did not smell a dog, I would not have known he was a dog. The mask wrapped around his head covered a lot but I saw his muzzle was very long, and so were his canines. His jaw was massive. He wore a mask, a cowl really, over his head, and I wondered how much like or unlike a dog he would look without it. His eyes peered at the woodpile though holes in the mask like blazing green fire. His body was heavily muscled. His front legs were longer than his hind legs and his feet seemed deformed, very flat to the ground. His tail, what there was of it, was like a club.

  I am not sure how long the Master stood there staring at the pile of wood, but it seemed ages. I dared not breathe. Eventually he shifted his gaze from my hiding place, letting those fiery green eyes of his sweep the darkness. Finally, he left the room and I could breathe again, but softly. But I still couldn’t get out.

  “And you know the rest,” Swoon finished. “I tried to get out, but I was caught. I couldn’t call for help because I didn’t know that the others had gone. Even when the sun rose, I could not take the chance that they were still there. I couldn’t hear anything of them, but I was…they were quite scary dogs. And then you guys came along.” She looked to Ajax. “When I heard your voice, big boy, it was the sweetest sound I ever heard.”

  “I was so worried about you, Swoon,” Ajax muttered, a little embarrassed by the cat’s gratitude.

  “That was quite an ordeal you went through, dear,” Sunny said.

  “You may have used at least two of the nine,” Yoda quipped.

  Swoon sighed. “Yoda, you do know that’s just an old cat’s tale, don’t you?”

  “Of course I do!” Yoda exclaimed. “Just making a little joke.”

  “Yes, very little,” Swoon agreed. “Cats only get one life, like all Bast’s children.”

  “You very nearly lost that one life due to your foolishness,” Levi scolded. “If it had not been for Ajax, you might still be out there. I hope this has at least taught you a lesson.”