by Ellen Parker
Dog business on the day Bailiff goes missing… no, she had too much at stake with her kennel to engage in theft. But the timing bothered him. Have I done something to put my dog in danger?
He waved to the others as they caught a ride to their own vehicles at the orchard buildings. Who would stoop so low to steal a dog? A plan for a few well-placed questions formed as he walked and whistled through the soybeans on his way back to the house. He would start tonight.
First: Drive into town and check for her white compact sedan and lights in the apartment over the bookstore.
Second: Drop a few casual questions among the tavern patrons.
Chapter Twelve
Beth wrapped both hands around her coffee mug and stared out across Lake Templeton. The water sparkled in the mid-morning Wednesday sunshine, and a V of geese approached overhead. Close by, the old wood dock extended into the lake. If she closed her eyes… no, this wasn’t the time for memories of a certain August morning four years ago. The peaceful hours when she and Bruce and the world around them pretended perfection were history.
Opening her eyes, she brought her attention back to the dock, where an aluminum canoe bobbed, secured with slack ropes fore and aft. “Have you become a canoeist?”
“My granddaughter, Celeste. She says it’s her exercise program.” Gertrude Morse drizzled honey on a fresh cranberry muffin. “I think it’s her retreat. Twelve hours of nursing gives her plenty of physical exercise. To listen to her, you’d think they never let them sit down.”
Beth lifted her coffee mug and thought about Carla’s description of certain hectic nights in Crystal Springs. “You may be close to the truth. What about this winter—does she have the icebreaker attachment?”
Gertrude laughed, her short white curls bouncing like a bonnet in the breeze. “I’ll suggest it.”
Smiling behind her cup, Beth studied the older woman. Elegant. A lady. Even dressed in a Packers sweatshirt and dark elastic-waist pants. Gertrude’s bright eyes displayed energy and intellect. They’d already discussed Gertrude’s decision to live year-round in the resort community. Her children insisted she not live alone, so Celeste, a single granddaughter, had found employment in the small health care facility in Templeton, three miles away.
“Now that you’ve satisfied my stomach, do you want to get to the business of this visit?” Beth asked.
“I can’t simply have a friend to brunch?”
“You could. But we both know that’s not the case today.” Beth turned her attention to the recently stained porch they shared with a patio set and a row of potted plants. Not quite the middle of September and the air this far north already had a tinge of fall. She watched as a clump of yellow and orange maple leaves drifted against one of the dock piers.
“Tell me about your kennel. What sort of business did you have in Bayfield yesterday?” Gertrude delayed the crux of their conversation by opening a topic close to Beth’s heart.
“I was delivering a puppy to his foster home. That was the last placement of the recent litter. Cruiser.” Beth enjoyed talking dogs, but she flexed one hand under the table in impatience. This invitation, or summons, didn’t center around her kennel.
Gertrude’s brows slid upward. “Cruiser?”
“We were feeling nautical the day we named that litter. And before you ask, we avoided Destroyer.” She found a photo on her phone and passed it over.
“Handsome mischief maker.”
Beth looked away to hide the impact of the words. She’d used them to describe Bailiff at their first meeting, and he was already on her mind after she’d spoken to Carla this morning. But she couldn’t think of Bailiff without adding Jackson into the picture. And he was forbidden. On multiple levels.
Placing the phone between them, Gertrude tapped Cruiser’s image. “An odd thing happened last night.”
“I’ll listen.”
“Most of our neighbors are gone for the season. You know how it is in the lake areas—everyone locks up tight after the last Labor Day cook-out. Aside from a few who spend weekends, it will be quiet around here until hunting season.”
Beth refilled their cups. This was not new information.
“I heard a dog last night. Poor thing sounded in distress. The way sounds echo and bounce around, neither Celeste nor I could determine his location.”
“One left behind?”
“I don’t think so. Didn’t hear him until last night.”
“What about a dog at the boarding stable? Horses and dogs often go together.” Beth remembered seeing three horses in the pasture on her drive in but no people or dogs.
“I called them this morning. Their only dog was in the house last night.”
“Unusual. Is there any place you could report it to if it happens tonight?”
“I suppose the sheriff could send a car to make a circle around the lake. They’ve always been pretty good about keeping enough presence to deter vandals.”
Searched for Jackson Dray’s missing puppy last evening. Beth replayed the primary news from Carla’s morning phone call. The Drays suspected theft.
She shook her head as she picked up her phone and tapped it back into standby. The timing was coincidence. Logic told her the odds were one in several hundred thousand that a dog gone missing in Crystal Springs would show up at a resort home a three-hour drive away.
Gertrude picked up her coffee and set it down again. “The reason I asked you here… we touched on it over the phone. But I wanted to warn you in person. About the legacy.”
Beth chilled even though expecting this turn in the conversation. “You’re aware Kevin stopped to see me last month? He made all the usual complaints. Once again, he offered legal assistance to file a divorce.”
“My eldest grandson is impatient. Always has been. Trust him less and less each visit.” Gertrude dabbed her lips with a bright yellow cloth napkin. “For example. You said he arrived in Crystal Springs after three that Sunday.”
Beth nodded in the midst of chewing her muffin.
“He left here early enough to have been at your place before one.”
“Stopped to attend church?”
Gertrude snorted. “Wrong Morse. Kevin attends for show, rather like his father did at that age. No one important would see him around here.”
Self-centered. Greedy. Beth restrained from verbalizing her favorite descriptors. “I’m not able to help you with that little mystery. Are you worried he’ll find the legacy?”
“He’s lusted after it since he found out about it.”
Beth laid her butter knife across the crumb-strewn plate and nodded.
As a wedding present, Gertrude had given Bruce a small stock portfolio. Her late husband had selected it specially and reserved it for the first grandchild to marry. Kevin, as the eldest grandson, did not graciously accept the arrangement. From the day Bruce announced their wedding, Kevin had felt slighted. The difference between first born and first married didn’t matter to him. Several times since Bruce’s disappearance, he’d suggested that it would be best to add his name to the account.
Beth concentrated on keeping her voice calm. “Bruce was careful when he selected a broker. And I’ve been quiet. All our correspondence goes to a post office box in Wagoner. My cousins know where I keep important Morse family papers, but I’ve not shared their exact nature.”
“He’s up to something.”
“Is he doing anything new or specific that you raise the topic now?”
“It came to my attention that all of this summer, he’s been looking up Bruce’s law school classmates.” Gertrude took a leisurely sip of coffee. “I don’t trust him. He can be very convincing to casual acquaintances. The longer this goes on, the more likely one of those classmates or another friend is to share a confidence.”
“I lost contact with his classmates and friends when I moved to Wisconsin.” She pressed her lips tight, unwilling to say that she’d cut ties with most of their college and law school acquaintances because the unspo
ken words in their faces and emails had gotten too painful.
“I’d like to have this entire situation resolved in my lifetime.”
Beth’s hand jerked. “Are you well?”
“Oh, I’ve not gotten any dire news from the medical people. But I turned eighty-nine last spring. It’s time for me to plant annuals, not trees.” She waved toward the germaniums and petunias ruffled by the breeze. “I’m willing to spend considerable funds on the project. But even a thick pocketbook has limits. My missing grandson deserves one more try. Are you willing to cooperate?”
Beth managed to contain a spurt of excitement at the confirmation of the hints in their recent phone chat. A pause enabled her heart to settle back to near normal. She wanted to know what had happened to Bruce on the camping trip, but never had the funds for a prolonged investigation. “After our phone conversation last week, I took the liberty of contacting a local man. He’s very professional. Discreet. Well-connected. I took the initiative and invited him to join us. He’ll be here in half an hour, unless I call and cancel.”
Gertrude’s eyes sparkled above her coffee cup. “You truly are a girl after my own heart. However, I think of Crystal Springs as a charming little village transported from New England. My mind populates it with farmers and shopkeepers. How in the world did a man like you describe end up there?”
“Born, raised, and escaped. He returned several years ago when he retired from the Secret Service. He’s the gentleman who helped me place dogs with federal agencies.”
“He has a good heart then. You can tell a lot about a man by how he treats a dog.”
“Yes, I believe he does.”
Beth cradled her coffee mug and recalled Daryl’s serious, calm demeanor during her entire confession. He’d asked the right questions concerning her marriage. His voice mixed professional courtesy with compassion as she summarized Bruce’s disappearance on a camping trip with his brother, Kevin. And it was time. Time to find some answers. This living limbo the status of missing person cast her into was getting more difficult as time went on. She fingered her birthstone pendant, a reminder that her birth family stood with her regardless of what life tossed her direction.
Chapter Thirteen
“Thanks for coming back in this late on a Friday night.” Jackson stepped further into Templeton Vet Clinic and extended a hand to a rotund man in his middle years. His first breath of disinfectant over a trace of animal feed in the still air reminded him of his dad’s workplace. This was smaller, of course—one vet instead of three. And a general rather than small animal practice. “I got delayed at work, so it was an hour after you called before I could get on the road. Lots of miles between Crystal Springs and here.”
Dr. Mumford offered his hand and a smile. “This isn’t my first call back to the office, split shift, or whatever the descriptor is this week.”
“Don’t expect it is.” A dog whined behind a door with a small window. Jackson broke into his first relaxed smile of the day. “That sounds familiar.”
“Let’s hope so. Just need to check your ID before you go back for a reunion.”
A few minutes later, Jackson followed the vet into a small room with high windows and half a dozen cages in small, medium, and large. A pair of kittens sharing quarters observed every move he made. He turned his focus to the occupant of the large floor enclosure. Bailiff wagged his tail and hindquarters at top speed while performing an impatient dance.
“First question’s answered. He remembers me.” Jackson squatted and extended his fingers into the cage. A moment later, with the vet’s nodded consent, he unlatched the wire door.
Bailiff pranced into Jackson’s arms and bathed his buddy’s chin.
“Easy, boy. I’m not going away. You don’t need to move everything at once.” He eased one hand over the puppy’s body, then down each hind leg, checking for obvious injuries.
The vet chuckled. “Most energy he’s shown since they brought him in. It never ceases to amaze me what a couple of good meals, fresh water, and a bath does for an exhausted animal. I think it’s time to move this party outside.”
Jackson followed the man through a second door into a yard the size of a parking space with a high chain-link fence and pea gravel surface. The street light on the corner and spotlights above the door supplied the light this long after sunset. “How was he found?”
“Couple of Forest Service workers spotted him when they were checking culverts. They knew right off he was a pet, but it took a granola bar and some patience to catch him. The younger guy seemed disappointed when I got a hit for a chip.”
“I’m grateful they brought him here.” He flipped a bone-shaped toy for Bailiff to catch. A dark cloud dimmed the happy reunion. What if the worker had just taken Bailiff home? They would have a great family pet. But from the day he’d first seen him, Jackson knew there was more potential in the pup. “Any guess on how far he traveled on his own?”
“Depends on several factors, most important the amount of time. Straight line travel could be several miles a day. This guy, he strikes me as more likely to move in circles and loops instead of straight lines. What did you have in mind?”
“Well, he was stolen from our place. No way he walked all the way here since late Tuesday morning. I’m thinking his abductor took him to a lake cabin in the area and he gave them the slip.” He pulled a new blue nylon collar from his pocket, allowed Bailiff a moment to inspect it, then buckled it on.
“Lots of vacation homes in the area. They empty out pretty quick after Labor Day. Deer hunting brings back a good number, but that’s a couple months away. Guess it does make it a good place to stash a dog and keep a low profile.”
“Do you happen to have a large-scale map of the area? Could you point out where he was found?”
For all his thinking about it during the drive, Jackson failed to recall either the road or the name of the lake where the George family cabin sat. He’d never been there, only heard about it all of his life. Three miles out of Templeton. Sits on an acre. Private dock. He exhaled disappointment. Trying to prove Bailiff had ever been on the property would be like chasing a ghost. And as part of the extended family, Sylvia’s presence would be accepted in the area.
He’d suspected Sylvia before the vet called, but the general location of Bailiff’s rescue confirmed it in his mind. But that would never be enough to accuse her. And proof would be difficult, or impossible, to find. Dog theft certainly hit a new low for her. She usually avoided pets due to her allergies. He snapped a leash to Bailiff’s collar.
“Got plenty of maps. Men who found him didn’t give an exact location.”
“I can accept best guess.” He dropped a pellet treat for Bailiff.
Dr. Mumford shrugged and led the way back to the reception area while giving some general care tips.
Jackson listened to the common sense advice and studied a county map posted on the waiting room wall. Templeton, the largest town, was in the south central portion. Small rivers, lakes, and swaths of state and national forest dominated. One state road bisected the area while county and township roads led to many of the lakes. He found the scale and scanned it for a lake three miles out of town. There were two. The faint line of a township road indicated development on the southern and western side of the largest one and entirely around the other.
“How did you intend to pay the short-term boarding?”
“Credit card. Do you accept them?”
The vet picked up an electronic tablet. “My favorite method. I tend to get a little confused processing the other options. As far as location, the men mentioned Skunk Creek. I think it’s the name of a trailhead or picnic area as well as the creek.”
Jackson wrinkled his nose at the thought of picnicking at Skunk Creek. A few moments later, he found it marked as flowing into Timber Lake. Setting his thumb on the creek, he moved his index finger between the two lakes with at least partial development.
Comparing the space to the scale, he frowned. “Think he cou
ld have managed eight miles?”
“Easy if he started Wednesday night. Possible with a Thursday breakout from your imagined cabin. Doubtful if under twenty-four hours.”
“He’s not talking.” Jackson tugged Bailiff out from under a bench.
Dr. Mumford chuckled. “Personally, I’d be worried if he did. Sign here with your finger.”
Jackson dropped another doggie treat within Bailiff’s reach and followed directions. A few quick crunches and much sniffing and licking on the floor happened around his feet. Bailiff’s back.
Hilltop Orchard had all its residents again, or would have after a three-hour drive home. He tapped the accept space on the electronic pad with his finger, glancing at the happy little hair factory near his feet. The pup was worth every penny and double the aggravation.
Chapter Fourteen
Beth greeted Daryl in the stark public area of his business. Not very public if you need to ring for admittance. Two large potted plants claimed spots by the front windows. A tall counter in front of shelves filled with numbered black binders dominated the former printing office. A single tall wooden stool offered seating for the stray visitor.
“Follow me. We’ll talk in my real office.”
“As opposed to…” She gestured to the barren room. It certainly fed the rumors the building was not in use from a glance in the window.
“Contrary to local gossip, business is thriving and modern.” He held a black drape aside for her to step into the back room.
She blinked and considered pinching herself. If she didn’t know better, she’d think she’d walked into the control center on a science fiction movie set. Two workstations of three computer monitors each, plus CPUs, a high quality printer, and numerous file cabinets filled the space. “Not exactly what I expected.”
“Just the necessities.” He handed her a single piece of paper and pointed at an office chair.
