K-9 Blues (Paws & Claws Book 3)

by Ralph Vaughan

  “Of course it has, Levi,” Swoon said. “Don’t get into any hiding place that you can’t get out of.”

  Levi sighed and shook his head. He might have argued with Swoon longer if she had been a donkey, but since she was a cat he decided there was no use in doing so. Swoon was a very playful and inquisitive young cat, and he could do naught but pray that she grew to be a very playful and inquisitive old cat.

  “You have been most helpful, Swoon,” Levi finally said. “We can now make some deductions about the nature of the Master and what his activities in Chula Vista are, all thanks to your clear and concise narrative. However, please promise us one thing.”

  “What?” Swoon asked, wary of making promises she might not want to keep.

  “Stay out of that lot and away from that warehouse,” Levi said.

  “But I can…”

  “Swoon,” Levi drawled.

  “Oh, all right,” she finally agreed glumly.

  The door of the apartment opened. All the animals congregated in the kitchen froze. The door clicked. Quick footfalls tapped down the hallway and vanished into the bathroom.

  “We should leave, and quickly,” Levi said.

  Sunny got the door open in record time, and four dogs spilled onto the landing. They carefully made their way down the stairs. At the bottom, Levi turned to Ajax.

  “Keep an eye on your friend, Ajax,” Levi said.

  “I will, Levi,” the Mastiff promised. “Thank you.” He looked around. “Thank you, all.”

  When Ajax had gone off, Sunny said: “What in the name of Anubis is the Master?”

  “And what are the Kolignosae?” Yoda added.

  Levi tilted his head a bit and narrowed his eyes thoughtfully. “Swoon’s account raises more questions than it answers. We need to consider everything before we…”

  He was interrupted by a strange howling sound, a cry unlike any they had ever before heard. They looked at each other sharply.

  Yoda said: “Could that be the…”

  Sunny said: “That sounds like it’s coming from…”

  But Levi was gone, scampering back to the Mastiff-shaped hole in the fence before the others could overcome their bewilderment. He was gazing into the lot when they joined him, and they pressed close to see what he saw.

  “What are Arnold and Antony doing out there?” Yoda asked.

  “They’re coming in from the southeast,” Sunny observed, “so they could not have followed us.”

  “Hey,” Yoda said suspiciously. “Where are their police vests? Antony wears his like a second skin, and Arnold is no better.”

  “Undercover?” Sunny suggested, but it was clear from her tone that she doubted her own suggestion.

  “They are heading for the warehouse,” Yoda said. “What are they up to now? We should find out.”

  “Levi do you think we should join them?” Sunny asked.

  “No,” Levi replied after a long moment. “I don’t think that would be a good idea.”

  “Why not?” Sunny demanded. “They may need our help.”

  But Levi shook his head and refused to explain further. He turned to head home, and ultimately the others could do nothing but follow his lead.

  The exited the apartment complex. At the fire station in the middle of the block an engine was being moved back up the drive after returning from a call. The three dogs took advantage of the traffic stopped both ways to cross in comparative safety. The rest of the journey was completed in silence; Sunny and Yoda both knew better than to disturb Levi when he was deep in thought.

  At they approached their driveway, they stopped in their tracks. The gate was open, and they knew they had shut it upon leaving.

  As they cautiously made their way up the drive, ever ready for danger, they saw a familiar figure sitting patiently by the back door. The German Shepherd was very elderly, even older than Levi, but his eyes were clear, his nose was wet, and he sat erect and rigid, as if untouched by the passage of time.

  “Sergeant Rex!” Levi exclaimed.

  “No, it’s just Rex now, Levi,” the old police veteran said. “I quit!”

  Chapter 10

  “Before we try to contact Blackie we should take a look in that old warehouse,” Antony said. “Those three busybodies were in there, and it sure looked like Boris was heading there before we nabbed him.” Antony looked grimly in the direction Boris had vanished. “And let him slip through or paws.”

  “Well, he was certainly distressed when he saw Sunny and Yoda take off through Doctor’s Park,” Arnold agreed. “It might be in our best interests to bring in the Three Dog Detective…”

  “No!” Antony snapped peremptorily.

  “I know how you feel, Antony, but hear me out.” Arnold looked at his partner expectantly.

  “All right, give me your reasoning,” Antony said. “I’ll listen to what you have to say.”

  “That all I ask.” Arnold paused. “That’s all I have ever asked.”

  “Go on,” Antony said. “I’m listening…I really am.”

  “We don’t know exactly what Levi and the others are working on, but it obviously has something to do with Slim Shady,” Arnold said. “Slim Shady was set up to take a fall by Boris, on the orders of this dog he calls the Master. Boris told us that Slim Shady had done nothing more than be in the wrong place at the wrong time, that he had see too much.”

  “Okay,” Antony acknowledged. “I can’t disagree…so far.”

  “What if what Slim Shady saw was the Master.”

  “He’s a secretive dog,” Antony mused. “An unusual dog.”

  “A dog like no other, Boris claimed.”

  “Well, he also claimed the Master wears a mask, if you can believe that,” Antony sneered.

  “Do you disbelieve him?” Arnold asked.

  After a moment Antony shook his head. “No, I believe him. I don’t understand it, but I do believe him. There was no point in him lying anymore. He was terrified, and in his own mind he was already dead. All he could do was tell the truth, even though it went against his nature.”

  “Slim Shady sees the Master somewhere,” Arnold continued, “so the Master decides to make Slim Shady part of the plan. He gets us out of the way so the evidence can be planted…”

  “By whom we don’t know yet,” Antony interjected.

  “…and they get rid of Slim Shady at the same time.”

  “Slick and efficient plan.”

  “Only they did not plan for Slim Shady slipping away from us,” Arnold said. “We didn’t expect Slim Shady to get away – who knew how much faster a scared Whippet can run?”

  “If everything had gone according to their plan, we would have put Slim Shady into the drop-off cage at the Shelter…”

  “Never to be seen or heard from again,” Arnold interjected.

  “And we would have returned to be…exiled.” Antony’s voice caught a little on the last word, but he recovered quickly. “Boris would not have seen Sunny and Yoda coming here…”

  “Because Slim Shady would not have told them anything.”

  “Then Boris would not have been caught like he was, would not have panicked, and would not have spilled everything to us,” Antony said. “It all revolves around Slim Shady and Levi’s pack.”

  “So, do you see why it would be a good idea to bring Levi and the others in on this?” Arnold asked.

  “No.”

  Arnold growled in frustration and looked at Antony as if he had the mange. “Really, Antony? You don’t? You really don’t? Do you not see why we should ask them for help, or do you just not see past the tip of your nose? You thick-skulled, dim-witted, shag-coated knucklehead! I can’t believe this! You prideful and arrogant…” Arnold sputtered incoherently. “…mutt!”

  Antony bark-growled.

  “Don’t try your alpha tricks on me!” Arnold snapped. “I know them all, and I never did like them. I let you get away with them before simply because it made it easier for us to do our jobs. I could have asse
rted myself over you – don’t think I couldn’t – but I don’t have the fire that’s in your gut. All I cared about was doing our jobs, and the best way to do that was to guide you, not lead you, it was the sacrifice I made to keep us working together, to keep us making a difference in the lives of others.” He snorted derisively. “That’s all over now! You say you want your badge back, but you obviously don’t want it badly enough to overcome your pride and arrogance and ask for help someone who has never done anything but try to help us. Sure, Levi doesn’t wear a badge, but he helps dogs just the same. Never asks for glory or credit or recognition. He just helps, and he usually does it when we can’t…or won’t.”

  “Why don’t you just tell me how you really feel?” Antony said.

  “How about, I go my way and you yours?” Arnold suggested.

  Antony glanced away from his partner and sighed. When he looked back Arnold was starting to walk away.

  “Arnold, where are you going?”

  “Like I said.”

  “We were going to search the warehouse,” Antony reminded.

  “What’s the use?”

  “We might find out more about this Master and what Boris was up to,” Antony said. “We might find something we could use to convince Blackie to help us.”

  “Go ahead,” Arnold urged. “No one is stopping you.”

  “I can’t do this without you,” Antony said. “We’re partners.”

  “We were,” Arnold corrected.

  “Don’t you want to get your…”

  “Don’t you dare try that argument on me!” Arnold snapped. “I am willing to whatever is necessary to get my badge back, to wear the vest again, even measures that humble me.”

  “But I’m…”

  “You’ll only do those things that don’t make Antony the Great uncomfortable,” Arnold interrupted. “Here’s a news bulletin: you have already been humbled in the eyes of others, but not in your own…never in your own. Maybe, as Boris said, the plan is not going perfectly, but it need not, as long as you are you. Perhaps the Master is smarter than all of us and knew that you are your own worst enemy. All he has to do is push you toward the cliff; you’re too bone-headed to keep from tumbling over.”

  “You through?” Antony asked after a moment of sullen silence.

  Arnold nodded. “I guess so.”

  “Okay,” Antony sighed. “I thought we had this settled, but I guess not. There is some truth in what you…”

  “Some?”

  “All right, a lot of truth,” Antony conceded. “Maybe I am too stiff-necked for my own good and sometimes can’t see the trees for the pee, so to speak, but I am not stupid.”

  “No,” Arnold agreed. “Anything but that.”

  “I’m at least smart enough to listen to a dog I’ve always looked up to and whose opinion I’ve always respected,” Antony said.

  “You hide your feelings well,” Arnold remarked dryly.

  “I’ve learned to control my tail,” Antony acknowledged. “And there is a price to pay for that control.”

  “We are all paying for it.”

  “Yes,” Antony agreed. “Yes, we are.”

  He looked at the warehouse, then at the surrounding area. His eyes narrowed as he swept his gaze along the fence-line to the north where an apartment complex sat. He thought for a moment he had seen figures near an opening, but they were gone now, if they had ever been there at all. He had never felt so discombobulated in his life, but he felt as if the mists were starting to clear. He could never be anything but the dog he was, but as he had told Arnold, whatever he was, he was not stupid.

  “Look, Arnold, I’m sorry for the way I’ve acted, what I said.”

  “I heard that before,” Arnold accused.

  “Okay, no words then, just actions,” Antony said. “We’ll go through the warehouse, see what we can find. Then we’ll contact Blackie and set him to work on the traitor. After that we’ll…” His voice faltered a bit. “After Blackie, we’ll go see Levi, put our heads together, share information…if he’ll help, that is.”

  “Oh, he’ll help all right,” Arnold assured Antony, his face brightening and his mouth opening in a wide tongue-lolling grin. “Like I told you earlier, you don’t know Levi. The entire Three Dog Detective Agency will pitch in to help us, even those ‘fur-ball friends’ of theirs.”

  “Me, turning to three misfit dogs and some screwball cats for help,” Antony mused. “What’s the world coming to?”

  “Perhaps a better place?” Arnold suggested.

  “We’ll see,” Antony allowed. “Now, let’s take a look at that old citrus warehouse everyone is so interested in.”

  Coming from the southwest, where they had finally given up on catching the demon-chased Boris, the first thing they saw was the cart on the loading dock. They approached warily.

  “That cart is new,” Antony commented. “At least newer than this eyesore.”

  “Actually the cart is stolen,” Arnold said.

  “Stolen?” Antony frowned, trying to recall something he had seen on one of the activity lists posted weekly by the regular police. “Are you sure?”

  “Pretty sure of it,” Arnold replied. “Let me take a closer look at it.” He walked about the small flatbed conveyance. “Yep, it’s stolen all right. This was reported stolen two weeks ago from Nurseryland, the garden supply place down on Broadway. It’s been modified a bit to be pulled by…” He sniffed at the crude leather harness. “…a dog?” He shook his head. “But it’s obviously the same cart as was in the report.”

  Antony sniffed the bed of the cart, poking his muzzle between the staves. “It should smell like fertilizer and begonias.”

  “Stands to reason,” Arnold agreed.

  “Then why do I smell fresh meat?”

  Arnold moved to Antony’s side and sniffed as well. “Fresh meat, and lots of it. Meat like…”

  “Same as was planted in our kennels,” Antony said. “Meat stolen from delivery trucks, and from the backs of stores, and from shipments at the warehouses in Otay.”

  “The meat used to incriminate us as thieves was merely a small part of this load,” Arnold said. “And even this meat may be nothing but the tip of the rib, so to speak.”

  Antony moved away from the cart, sniffing the floor in an outward spiral.

  “Some blood here,” Antony announced. “Bulldog, I think, but not much at all. No life taken.”

  “Discipline?” Arnold suggested, thinking of some gang rites.

  “Possibly,” Antony said.

  “If the meat was on the cart last night,” Arnold said, “where is it now? Where did it go? What was it used for?”

  “It must have gone to the dogs,” Antony said, still sniffing the floor of the loading dock and adjoining bay. “A lot of dogs. I’ve not smelled so many breeds in one place since we worked security at that dog show.”

  “Yeah, I remember,” Arnold said. “Best of show was a Welsh Springer Spaniel, if I recall correctly.”

  “You do,” Antony confirmed. “Insufferable little…”

  “Carts, stolen meat, lots of dogs congregating,” Arnold mused. “Not exactly what you call typical canine activities. Lots of gangs reflected here – I recognize some of these scents.”

  “So do I,” Antony confirmed. “All alphas we’ve had trouble with before.”

  “I don’t like this,” Arnold said. “Boris said the Master wanted to become the big dog in Chula Vista, then all of the South Bay.”

  “No gang can control that much territory,” Antony explained. “It’s not the way packs operate, and that’s all the canine gangs are really, just lawless and rogue packs. But, you’re right – I don’t like it one little bit.”

  “I like this even less.” Arnold was in a far corner of the loading bay, his nose close to the weathered wood. “Over here, Antony.”

  Antony approached where his partner stood.

  “Okay, stop there and sniff a bit.”

  Antony did as he was told. E
ven though not a scent hound, he had trained with the drug and explosive sections. He might not be able to find the plastic packet every time, but he was no slouch.

  “Doberman,” Antony murmured as he allowed scent molecules to rise under their own power, not forcing them, let them tickle the memory centers of his brain. “Dobermans. Two of them, big fellows at that, sitting on their haunches here for quite awhile.”

  “All right,” Arnold said, “ease on over here, keep sniffing.”

  As Antony moved toward where Arnold stood, the strong musk of the Dobermans faded and another smell worked its way into his consciousness, a heady and exotic scent. He looked at Arnold.

  “What the…”

  “Yeah, what is that?” Arnold lowered his muzzle to the floor and sniffed along with Antony. “Ever smell anything like that?”

  Antony stepped back and sneezed twice to clear his nose of the peculiar smell. Arnold moved back, performed the cleansing ritual, and joined his partner.

  “A dog like no other, that’s what Boris claimed,” Arnold said.

  “It’s not a dog, not completely, but doglike,” Antony mused.

  “A mix of some kind, a hybrid breeding,” Arnold suggested. “Like Boris is?”

  Antony shook his head. “Boris may have some strange fruit hanging in his family tree, but he doesn’t smell like anything but a dog. This is…different. I’m not sure how to put it.”

  “Primitive?” Arnold suggested.

  “Yeah, maybe,” Antony replied. “Remember when we had that training exercise at the Wild Animal Park?”

  “More a public relations stunt than a training exercise,” Arnold remarked. “We could have done all the same exercises on our usual training field, and without the distracting audiences.”

  Antony nodded in agreement. “Remember the walkthrough of the exotic canines exhibit?”

  “It was depressing,” Arnold said, grimacing at the memory. “Half those guys did not know where they were or what was going on. I know they try to make the enclosures look like home to them, but there are still enclosures, just a jumped-up Shelter.”