Dial 'M' for Maine Coon

by Alex Erickson

  “You’re sorry?” The woman kicked my van again.

  “Please stop that.”

  She kicked it again, this time harder, with arms flying up over her head. The woman looked strong, as if she’d worked with her hands all her life, though the years had softened her somewhat. I put her in her fifties, though I didn’t doubt she could take me if she wanted to.

  “You stole my Chico.”

  “Your Chico?” I asked. “I don’t know what that is.”

  “Liar!” A kick to the tire. “I can hear him barking.”

  “Wait,” I said, a slow understanding dawning. “Chico is a Chihuahua?”

  “You know he is.” This time she slapped the car door, just under the window. I jerked back just in case her next blow was aimed at my face. “You can’t keep him! I’ll call the cops.”

  “I didn’t steal anyone,” I said. “Let’s just calm down so we can talk about this.”

  “Calm down?” she shrieked. “I don’t think so, lady.”

  I winced at her piercing tone, and glanced in my rearview mirror. Sure enough, Joanne was standing outside her house, hands on her hips, and a disapproving look on her face.

  Great. I was positive I was going to be hearing from her about this too.

  “I want my dog,” the woman screamed. “And I want him now!” This time, she punched my door with a closed fist.

  “I can’t do anything if you keep beating on my van,” I said.

  The woman grudgingly stepped back. I eyed her a moment, not quite sure I trusted her not to leap at me, before I opened the van door and stepped out.

  “Get him,” she said, jabbing a finger toward my door.

  “No.” I crossed my arms and stood my ground. I would not be bullied by this woman, not after dealing with Harry Davis. “I’m not doing anything for you while you’re this angry.”

  The woman actually snarled at me.

  “Why do you think I stole your dog?” I asked. I somehow kept my voice calm and level.

  “Because he’s inside!”

  “But how did you know he was here?” I asked. “Did you give him up to Pets Luv Us?”

  “Give him up? I’d never do such a thing.”

  “Then how did he end up here?”

  The woman looked like she might yell some more about how I stole Chico, but thought better of it. “He broke his leash,” she said. She wouldn’t meet my eye as she spoke. “He ran and I didn’t know where he went. Then, I received a call that he was snatched up by Furever Pets.” She jabbed her finger at the logo on my van.

  “I didn’t snatch your dog,” I said. “He was brought to me.” But, apparently, not in good faith. I was going to kill Courtney the next time I saw her.

  “Your van was spotted at the scene,” the woman said, her voice slowly rising back to a shout. “You, or one of your people, took him. I want him back.”

  “I’m sure you do,” I said, trying to be diplomatic. “Do you have documentation on you?”

  “What?”

  “Papers. Something that will tell me that Chico is indeed yours?”

  The woman narrowed her eyes at me. “Are you calling me a liar?”

  “No,” I said. “But I need to make sure I’m doing what’s best for Chico.”

  “He needs me.”

  “I understand. Just show me something that will prove that he’s yours.” At that point, I would have accepted a photograph.

  The woman grumbled something under her breath. When I didn’t respond, she raised her voice. “I don’t have any with me.”

  I took a deep, calming breath. “Okay. We can work this out.” I noted then I didn’t hear barking, nor was Ben’s car in the driveway. “Chico is getting checked out at the vet to make sure he’s healthy right now, so I couldn’t give him to you now, even if you had proof of ownership. Give me your name and number and let me make some calls, and as soon as I have verification that he’s yours, and once he’s back here, I’ll get him to you.”

  The woman ground her teeth a moment before she stepped closer. I cringed, thinking she might go for my shins with her Crocs, but she merely muttered her name and phone number.

  “Okay, Stacy,” I said. “I’ll call you as soon as I work this out, all right? If you can get me some sort of documentation, I can speed this up. Otherwise, it might not be until tomorrow before I know for sure. Rest assured, I’m going to take good care of Chico until then.” And I planned on getting to the bottom of this, even if I had to corner Courtney to do so.

  “You’d better.” She started to walk off toward her car, before she stopped. “Everyone is going to hear about this.” She narrowed her eyes at me. “Everyone.”

  And then she got into her car, spun her tires, and flew out of my driveway.

  I sagged against the side of my van. This was something I most definitely didn’t need.

  Courtney. My hands balled into fists and I had to restrain myself from following Stacy’s lead and punching my van.

  I took a deep, calming breath, and then I marched for the house, still seething. I had a call to make.

  10

  The phone rang, but no one picked up.

  I paced my living room, steaming. I knew Courtney had set me up, but how was I supposed to prove it? She’d just deny everything or play it off as a mistake. I wanted to believe this was all one big misunderstanding, but knew from experience that it wasn’t. Courtney knew exactly what she was doing when she’d done it.

  What I didn’t get was why she’d stoop so low. I didn’t make money with my rescue. In fact, I spent more money than I ever took in. Courtney, on the other hand, had no problem charging adoption fees that allowed her to tuck a few extra bucks away here and there. This wasn’t something you did for profit.

  So why bother smearing my name?

  I disconnected and tried again. After only a handful of rings, I gave up.

  “She’s avoiding me,” I said to Wheels, who was watching me from the dining room. Sheamus was sitting in the living room window, sneezing up a storm. After a few seconds, when I worried I might have to do something, he calmed and settled in to watch the birds outside.

  I plopped down on the couch to think about what to do. Wheels rolled over and stared up at me. I scratched behind her ears, shooting a glance toward the laundry room door, which was open. As I assumed, the Chihuahua was still getting checked out.

  I could keep trying to call Courtney and hope we could work it out civilly, but how long before she simply blocked me? She wasn’t answering her phone for a reason.

  “I could pay her a visit,” I muttered. Wheels meowed and rubbed against my leg. I couldn’t tell if she agreed with me or not.

  I wasn’t sure how else to go about verifying Stacy’s story other than waiting for her to get back to me with documentation. I believed her when she’d said Chico belonged to her, but I still wanted proof. I wouldn’t put it past Courtney to have sent this woman here to cause trouble.

  The front door opened and Ben bounded inside, dog carrier in hand. The dog was quiet for a change, and I wondered if Manny had been forced to sedate him for his tests. Ben took Chico to the laundry room, set him free, and then joined me in the living room.

  “Hey, Mom.” He threw himself down into the recliner, propping one leg on the armrest. “Dad says Piranha is good to go.”

  “It’s Chico.” I assumed. And what if I’m wrong about Stacy? Lately, I was struggling to trust my own instincts.

  Ben cocked his head to the side. “What?”

  “Never mind.” There was no sense getting into it now, so I changed the subject. “I heard you were looking at a house.”

  Ben grinned. “Yeah, it was strange. Some of the houses we went to were still occupied. You’d walk in and someone else’s life would be right there, laid out in front of you. Some people didn’t even pick up after themselves before we got there. We’re talking dirty clothes on the floor, sinks full of dishes. I’m not sure I’d want someone popping into my room without me bein
g there to watch them like a hawk.”

  I barely heard what he’d said after one word: “We?”

  His grin widened. “Her name’s Katie. I think I’m in love.”

  As if I hadn’t heard that from him before. “Are you planning on moving in with this Katie?” I asked. “How long have you known her?”

  He took a moment to think about it. “Three and a half weeks now. Give or take.”

  “Three weeks?” I very nearly shouted it.

  “And a half.”

  “Do you really think you should be moving in with someone you’ve known for under a month?”

  Ben shrugged and seemed to dismiss my concerns. “She’s been looking for a place of her own for a while now. And, honestly, I should have done the same a long time ago. We got to talking about it, and both of us figured, why not? I mean, we’re both adults. If it doesn’t work out, we’ve got a plan for that.”

  “You have a breakup plan?” I asked, incredulous. Leave it to Ben to prepare for an inevitable separation. I don’t think he’d ever had a relationship that lasted for more than a couple of months, and that might be stretching it.

  “Yeah. As you pointed out, we haven’t been together for long. Things happen. People move on from one another, grow apart, what have you.”

  In Ben’s case, that seemed like a weekly event. “What about renting a place instead?” I asked. “If you buy, you’re going to be on the hook for it if you two break up. It’s not like you can just give the house back if it doesn’t work out.”

  “We thought about it,” he said. “But decided against renting. Mom”—he dropped his leg to the floor and sat forward so he could look me in the eye—“I know what I’m doing.”

  Oh, how I wished I could believe him. I loved my son, I really did, but sometimes, I wished he’d be just a little more responsible.

  Isn’t that what he’s trying to do?

  “I’ll support you, Ben, no matter what,” I said. “But please make sure you’re doing the right thing. Think it through. Don’t make any rash decisions.”

  “I won’t.” He popped to his feet. “I’m going to do a little more research online. If you don’t need anything. . . ?”

  “No, go ahead.”

  He grinned, kissed me on the top of the head, and then bounded up the stairs.

  I watched him go with a worried sigh. He was happy, I could tell. I only hoped that his happiness would last this time.

  While I was worried about Ben’s future, talking to him did have one good side effect—I didn’t want to wring Courtney’s neck as much as I had before. I decided to give it a few more hours before I tried calling her again. Maybe, by then, I’d see things clearer, and Stacy will have gotten back to me. Besides, yelling at her wouldn’t do either of us any good.

  Since Ben was doing his own research upstairs—likely house research, if I didn’t miss my guess—I decided to do some of my own. I grabbed my laptop and did a quick search for Stacy Hildebrand, the woman who claimed Chico belonged to her. Finding photographic evidence that she did indeed own the dog would go a long way in easing my mind about her and her motives.

  It didn’t take long to find her social media profiles and see that, indeed, Chico and Stacy were an item. Nearly every photograph showed her hugging or grooming him. No wonder the woman was so upset; they appeared inseparable.

  Once I talked to Courtney to make sure I wasn’t overlooking something, and once Stacy got back to me, I’d get Chico back to his owner. Somehow, I’d make sure everyone came out of this happy.

  I started to set my laptop aside to give Courtney another call when I realized there was someone else I could do some digging into.

  “Harry Davis.” I spoke his name out loud as I typed it in.

  Unsurprisingly, I found almost nothing on him. There were way too many people with the same name, and digging through them all would take all day. I had no idea how to narrow my search, since I wasn’t looking into him for a pet adoption.

  But I know someone who might have some idea.

  I did a quick search, snatched up my phone, and made a call.

  “Chudzinski Investigations. How may we be of service?”

  “Hi, Maya, it’s Liz Denton. Amelia’s mom.”

  “Oh, hi, Liz. Do you need to speak to Amelia? She’s right here.”

  “No, I was hoping I could ask Chester a question or two. Is he available?”

  “Let me check. I’ve got to put you on hold. I apologize for the music in advance.”

  “That’s all right.”

  “I’ll be quick.”

  There was a click, followed by music that made elevator music sound upbeat and exciting. It made me wonder if Chester had chosen it to weed out anyone who wasn’t serious about employing his services. I mean, you had to be truly dedicated to a call to wait through the toneless tune playing in my ear.

  Thankfully, Maya was true to her word and she was back after only a couple of seconds. “Liz? He can talk to you now.”

  “Great.”

  Another click. This one was followed by Chester’s voice.

  “Hi, Mrs. Denton, what can I do for you?”

  “Hey, Chester, I was wondering if you could tell me something about Harry Davis.”

  There was a pause. “What about him?”

  “Actually, I’m not sure. Curiosity, maybe? I was hoping you could tell me something that might, I don’t know, give me some context on who he is.”

  “Context? You won’t like anything you find on him,” Chester said. “I looked into him back when Christine first went missing, and I hated every second of it. It’s like walking into a cesspool of prejudice and hatred. You’ll need a shower after reading some of the things he’s said.”

  “That’s all right; I could use one anyway.”

  Even though it was meant as a joke, neither of us laughed.

  “Do you have an email address?” Chester asked. “I’ve kept tabs on Harry, and I can shoot you a link or two I’ve found where his true colors come out. You can take it from there.”

  “Yeah.” I rattled off my Furever Pets email address, which was the only one I had. I wondered if I should go ahead and create a personal address for situations like this. Not that I plan on doing this ever again. “Thanks a lot, Chester. It’ll ease my mind knowing who Harry really is.”

  “I don’t know about that. Trust me, you won’t like it one bit. What you saw earlier today was only a small taste of Harry Davis.”

  We clicked off and I immediately checked my email. As promised, the links were there. I hovered my mouse pointer over one, took a deep, bracing breath, and then clicked.

  Much to my surprise, the first link took me to Reddit. I guess I didn’t think a man of Harry’s age and persuasion would even know what Reddit was. I only knew of the site because I found it useful in my work when I had questions Manny couldn’t answer.

  I don’t think I could ever bring myself to repeat what I found in that thread. Summarizing it would be bad enough that I’d feel sick to my stomach for days. He used his full name as his handle, so there was no question as to who made the posts. Their vileness made me want to throw my laptop across the room and take that shower Chester spoke of.

  The thread started innocently enough. The poster asked about a deli downtown, if anyone had tried it. The first few answers were helpful, even thoughtful.

  Then Harry chimed in.

  Let’s just say he wasn’t too keen on someone not originally from this country touching his food.

  I ground my teeth together and forced myself to keep reading. I don’t know why I did. I mean, the guy was spewing uninformed hatred, using “facts” he obviously made up on the spot to support his argument. No one agreed with his assessment, but that didn’t stop him. In fact, it only seemed to urge him on all the more.

  And then I spotted something that made my skin try to crawl right from my bones.

  If they don’t pack it up soon, I’ll make sure they get what they deserve.

&
nbsp; I read the line twice to make sure I’d read it right before moving on. The responses weren’t kind, which was expected. A few posts down, he chimed in once again.

  These people need to disappear. If they can’t manage it on their own, then I’ll assist them. I’ve done it before, and I’ll do it again.

  “Assisted how?” I wondered aloud. I thought back to what Ida had told me about a man paying her a visit. Could it truly have been Harry? If so, what was he after? What was his connection to Christine?

  And did it tie in to this post somehow?

  There was nothing else in the thread of use, so I moved on to the next link Chester had sent me. It was more of the same, but this time he’d made a comment on an online newspaper article. He once again referenced having done something to someone, but didn’t clarify what exactly he’d done.

  Was he merely trolling everyone, making wild claims, just to get a rise out of people? Or was there something there that pointed to a man ready and willing to commit murder?

  He didn’t kill Christine, but he very well could be the reason she’d fled Grey Falls. Both links were quite a few years old, so they didn’t reference Joe, but those comments about doing “it” before could most definitely be referencing Joe’s wife.

  I closed my laptop with a frown. Did the police know about Harry’s posts? If they did, would it even matter? Posting about something was completely different than actually doing it. And unless he gave details, what was there for anyone to follow up on?

  I wished I had a picture to show Ida Priestly so I knew for sure if Harry Davis was the man who’d come to see her. Unfortunately, I didn’t, and wasn’t interested in finding one. Besides, I had nothing to do with the murder, or the ongoing investigation. As much as I wanted to know what had happened, it wasn’t up to me to find out. I had animals to take care of.

  I picked up my phone and tried Courtney again. After looking into Harry, Courtney’s little deception didn’t seem so bad.

  Like before, the phone rang without anyone picking up. Either she was monitoring her calls and was avoiding me, or she’d forgotten her phone at home. I’d put money on the former.