Maximum Security (A Dog Park Mystery)

by C. A. Newsome

  “We didn’t know how old you were, so we put the whole box on,” Jose said.

  “Gee, thanks. You think I’ll be able to blow all those out? Give me a minute while I crank up my oxygen tank.”

  “Don’t forget to make a wish,” Jim said.

  Lia made a silly face while she inhaled. Making an “O” with her mouth, she blew, directing her breath at the long line of candles. Several people stepped in to extinguish the last of the flames when she faltered near the end.

  “Does it count if I get help?” she asked.

  “If it doesn’t, it should,” Jim said. He handed her a knife. “Here, you cut.”

  “What did you wish?” Terry asked.

  “I’m not telling. But it wasn’t for you to win the lottery.”

  “A dagger to the heart!” Terry clutched the wounded organ. “I thought we were friends.”

  Terry had brought a thermal carafe of coffee to go with the cake. He and Jose dispensed cups while Bailey gave out the cake. Lia took a piece of cake over to Kitty, who was passing biscuits through the fence to the assembled dogs.

  “Here, I didn’t want you to miss out. Jim’s crazy cake goes fast.”

  “Thank you.” She took the cake. “It was so kind of Jim to invite me. Renee wanted to come, but she had a meeting at the museum.”

  “I’m glad you could make it. I guess you didn’t have any luck looking for Daisy yesterday?”

  “No, but I’ll keep trying. Have you heard from any of the rescue organizations?”

  “Not so far. I hate to think of her still lost,” Lia said.

  “Somewhere, George is looking down and he appreciates what you’re doing for her. She’s such a sweet dog,” Kitty said.

  “Hey, Birthday Girl,” Bailey called out. “Where is Detective Hottie taking you tonight? Enquiring minds want to know.”

  “Sorry, can’t help you. He hasn’t said.”

  “You mean he’s a guy and he hasn’t figured it out yet.”

  “Such scorn!” Lia admonished. “Bailey, you are a woman of little faith.”

  “I am a woman of extensive experience. I bet he still doesn’t have a clue where you’re going.”

  “He did say to wear a dress and heels. I don’t know if I have any heels that don’t have teeth marks.”

  “I didn’t know you had a dress,” Bailey said.

  ~ ~ ~

  “Hey, Gorgeous,” Peter said when she answered the door. He lifted her hand and twirled her around, made a lingering inspection of her attire. “You sure do clean up well. Where have you been hiding that dress? You got any more like that?”

  Lia looked down at the fuchsia silk cocktail dress decorated with gold bugle beads. “I trot this out for art openings. You don’t think it’s too much, do you?”

  “I think it’s so just right, we may have to miss our reservations.” He gave her a wicked grin, pulling her close.

  She shoved him back through the door. “No way we’re staying in after I put lipstick on. You’ll just have to suffer.”

  Brent’s car was sitting by the curb. “Brent loaned me Celeste for the evening. He says you’ll dump me for him after you ride in her leather seats.”

  “He does, does he?”

  “We have a bet on it.”

  “Oh, really? What’s the bet?”

  “If you haven’t dumped me by Monday morning, I have to buy doughnuts.” He handed her into the A4.

  “That doesn’t seem fair. Why should you buy if you win?”

  “His reasoning is, the loser deserves a consolation prize.”

  “Oh, really?” Lia smirked. “So, where are we going?”

  “We’re going for a pleasant drive along Columbia Parkway. That’s all I’m going to say.”

  “East side of town? Must be fancy.”

  “I’m not saying a word.”

  She had to admit, the A4 handled well. The sound system was superior, wrapping her in “Claire de Lune”while she sank into the buttery seats.

  With most of the leaves down, Lia was able to see boat lights twinkling on the Ohio River as the Audi sped along the parkway. They drove into Columbia-Tusculum, where the parkway slowed and the road was lined with colorful Victorian houses. Peter turned right at Delta Avenue and pulled up to a valet in front of a Romanesque style brick building.

  Lia burst out laughing. “You couldn’t resist, could you?” she said, as she eyed the well-dressed patrons entering the restaurant.

  “Can I help it if Urban Spoon says it’s the best restaurant in town?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  The Precinct was a thirty-year-old steak house occupying the former Cincinnati Police Patrol House Number 6.

  “You just want to see some celebrities.”

  “I’m crushed. My only ulterior motive tonight is getting my hands under that dress.”

  Peter escorted her indoors. Lia took a seat in one of the antique barber chairs that decorated the lobby. Peter snapped a picture of her, then continued to look at his phone, punching buttons.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Posting this on Facebook.”

  “You’re not.”

  “I am.”

  The hostess led them to a tiny rotunda lined with stained glass windows in a harlequin pattern.

  Peter pulled out a chair for Lia. “If you’ll notice, the only celebrity you can see from this table is a certain Cincinnati artist.”

  “Uh-huh. Keep piling it on, Kentucky Boy. At least I’m not overdressed. Where did you get that tie, anyway?” she asked, referring to his blue-on-blue Kenzo silk jacquard.

  “It came with the car. Brent said I wasn’t allowed to wear any of my ties here.”

  “You sure he’s not gay?”

  “Nah. He’s just been reading too many Lucas Davenport mysteries. He wants to be the tough guy in the silk suit. I keep asking him if he also wants his face bashed in with a hockey stick. He seems to think John Sandford will write him into a novel without the scars. Next thing you know, he’s going to show up with clocks on his socks.”

  ~

  “Well,” Lia said finally, eyeing the remains of her oversized filet, “at least we’re going to have enough leftovers for the dogs. If I eat any more, you won’t have to get me out of this dress, I’ll bust out spontaneously as I’m getting into Brent’s car. And no, you can’t post a picture of that on Facebook.”

  “I’m giving up a lot here, if you expect me to pass on a chance to publicly humiliate you. I’ll expect payment later. Shall we get dessert to go?”

  Lia looked at her plate mournfully. “I think we’d better. I’m not going to be ready to eat again until Wednesday. Think it’ll keep that long?”

  They sipped coffee as the waiter took their food away to pack in one of Jeff Ruby’s signature doggie bags. Peter pulled a slender pink package out of his pocket. It was an odd size, about six inches long and less than two inches wide, with an intricate silver bow. She looked at him sideways as she untied the ribbon.

  “You didn’t wrap this, did you?”

  “I cannot tell a lie. Cynth took pity on me and did it.”

  Lia opened the small box and pulled out a keyring attached to an aluminum tube anodized a rich rose pink. The tube was about the size of a roll of nickels, but longer and covered in hatch marks. A small vertical line appeared on her forehead as she examined it.

  “I don’t want to seem ungrateful, but, what is this?”

  Peter took the object from her. “This is called a kubotan. It’s a self-defense weapon disguised as a a key chain. Hand me your keys.” Lia removed her keys from her evening bag and dropped them into his palm. Peter slid them onto the ring on the end of the tube.

  He held the tube in this fist, with the keys hanging off the top, waved it back and forth. “Like this, it becomes a flail. You can use it to slash someone in the face, though that’s the least effective use for it. You can also do this.” He jabbed the tube up and down, like a dagger.

  “You can break someone�
��s nose or hit them in any of a number of vulnerable spots. I’ve got a training manual that shows you how to use this on different pressure points if someone attacks you.”

  He held up the tube, showing her a tiny hole in the bottom. “If you flip the safety and press the other end, it shoots pepper spray out of here. The pepper spray has a ten-foot range.”

  Lia smiled and shook her head, leaned over and kissed him. “Dourson, you are such a romantic. Thank you. This is an amazing present. Bailey will say that the first thing I should do with it is use it on you, but I think I know why you chose it.”

  “You don’t want me hovering or worrying. Cynth gives classes in self-defense. I’ve reserved a spot for you in her next session. If I know you can take care of yourself, maybe I won’t make you feel so crowded.”

  She leaned back and considered. Maybe this was what Jim had been talking about. He gives a little, you give a little. Thinking creatively so both of them could get what they needed: a way to be themselves and be closer at the same time.

  “You’re some guy, Dourson. How about we grab that doggie bag and see if we can make it home before my dress explodes?”

  Day 12

  Sunday, October 20

  Bailey held the kubotan delicately between her thumb and forefinger as she examined it. She extended her hand so Kita could give it a sniff, then gave it a little shake and made the keys clink. “I don’t know, Lia. It looks like a cross between a Medieval torture device and a heavy metal sex toy to me. He ask you to use it on him yet?”

  “Ha. Ha. I happen to think it’s very sweet and thoughtful. I just wish it didn’t weigh so much.” Lia set her coffee down on the picnic table. She stretched her arms over her head and yawned. “Sorry, late night.”

  Bailey gave the kubotan another shake. “Better than steak knives, I guess. Does this mean you’re going steady? Are his initials engraved on this anywhere?”

  Terry wandered up. “What’s this? Do my eyes deceive me, or is this a twenty-first century pocket flail? A very attractive model, though you need more keys to make it effective.”

  “Hi, Terry,” Lia said. “This is my birthday present from Peter. He says it’s called a kubotan.”

  “Technically, a kubotan is made of hard plastic and has grooves in it, so it’s lightweight and your hand fits it snugly. This is a self-defense keychain stick, a take-off of the kubotan. It was created for tactical use, primarily by female police officers.

  “Its use is similar to the yawara stick and is greatly linked to 'empty handed' martial arts techniques. Of course, you’ll want to deploy the mace before your antagonist ever gets close enough for you to strike them.

  “But it will never replace a loaded gun,” he concluded.

  Lia looked at Bailey. Bailey turned white and said nothing. Leave it to Terry to forget about the last time she carried a gun, even though he had been the one to give it to her.

  “No guns, Terry,” she said with finality. “The wrong people will think I’m happy to see them.”

  “Touche´,” Terry said, and he wandered off to find Jackson.

  ~ ~ ~

  Lia pulled the kubotan out of her hip pocket and slid the key in her front door lock. The dogs milled around, tugging their leashes in opposing directions. She twisted the key and shoved the door open. The dogs preceded her as she stepped inside. She turned, shutting the door.

  Strong arms wrapped around her from behind, pulling her into a bear hug, one large hand gripping the other over her solar plexus.

  “Where’s your kubotan?” Peter muttered threateningly into her ear.

  “What is this, The Pink Panther? Are you going to be attacking me at random from now on?”

  “Humor me,” he growled.

  “Okay, Cato. It’s in my left hand.”

  “Bend your elbows and bring your hands up. Place your right hand on top of your left hand, covering the key end of the kubotan.”

  Lia dropped the leashes. “Check.”

  The dogs milled around, sniffing at the entwined couple, trying to understand why Lia wasn’t getting their breakfast.

  “Now, gently, because you really love me, push the butt end into the back of my exposed hand.”

  Lia looked down, sighted his hand and pressed the kubotan on top of the tendons in Peter’s hand.

  “Press in a little harder . . . a little harder . . . OW!” Peter dropped his hands.

  “Okay, step away, turn around and don’t flip the safety, but act like you’re going to mace me.”

  Lia stepped away, turned, raised her arm and pointed the bottom of the kubotan at Peter’s face. She applied her thumb to the button on the other end.

  “Squirt,” she said. “Did I pass?”

  “Wouldn’t hurt to get a little further away, but it’ll do in a pinch.” He shook out his hand.

  “Did I hurt you?”

  “You hear me say, ‘ow’?”

  “I thought that was just for effect.” She took his hand. “If I kiss it, will it feel better?”

  “It won’t feel worse.” He grinned.

  She held his hand up, gave it a loud smack. “Help me unclip the dogs. So . . . did I pass?”

  “That’s one basic technique. Of course, you want to ram the kubotan into their hand about ten times harder, but you got the picture.”

  They released the dogs, who ran into the kitchen for breakfast. Lia doled out kibble as Peter handed her bowls.

  “Are we going to do this again?” she asked.

  “Probably. This and a few other moves. That’ll give you a little confidence with it until we can get you into Cynth’s class. The point is for you to react automatically if someone grabs you.”

  “And you want me to hurt you while I’m at it?”

  “Only a little. Just enough for you to get a feel for the pressure points. Just as long as you don’t start taking pleasure in it.”

  “Doing this will make you feel better?”

  “Knowing you can handle yourself will make me feel a lot better.”

  “I think it would be more fun handling you. You have any more positions to show me, you big, bad, dangerous thug, you?” She traced a finger along his collarbone.

  Peter gulped.

  ~ ~ ~

  Bailey sat at Lia’s kitchen table and shuffled a stack of charts. Lia and Peter sat across from her. Peter’s digital recorder sat in the middle of the table. The dogs lay nearby, watching. Kitchen usually meant food.

  “Are you ready for me to turn this on yet?” Peter asked.

  “Go ahead,” Bailey said.

  “Wow,” Lia said, eyeing the stack of charts. “This looks really complicated. I didn’t know it was going to be so involved.”

  “Have either of you had your chart read before?” Bailey asked.

  Peter and Lia shook their heads.

  Bailey pulled Lia’s chart out of the stack and turned it to face them. She briefly explained that the chart was a map of the sky and the position of the planets when a person is born.

  Then she pointed out the complex arrangement of planets that made Lia an artist.

  Lia’s eyes began to glaze. “Wow,” she said. “Interesting.”

  “It is interesting, because the placement that encourages you to develop your artistic talent also creates a conflict for you. Libra says you’re all about partnership and cooperation, but the first house is very independent and places a priority on self and autonomy. And you’re a bit of a control freak, with Pluto there.”

  Peter nudged Lia with his knee. She ignored him.

  “Something very important is going on in your chart right now. See the little red sign outside the circle, shaped like an old TV aerial?” Bailey pointed to the incomprehensible squiggle. “That’s Uranus, as it is in the sky today.”

  Peter raised his eyebrows, but resisted the obvious joke.

  “It’s passing through your house of partnership and marriage, and it will be there for about seven years. This suggests that any relationship you enter int
o has to allow more room than the traditional relationship, and that it is likely to have its own rules and be unusual in some way. Otherwise, it’s not likely to last.”

  “Does that mean marriage is out?” Lia asked, deliberately avoiding Peter’s eye.

  “Not necessarily. It could work if it allowed for the individuality of both partners.”

  “Huh,” Peter said. “What about me?”

  “You’re a Capricorn, so you tend to be conservative and believe in rules and social conventions.” She continued pointing out different planets. “. . . So, one of the ways you can serve your purpose is to make the world a better place through a career that investigates death in the pursuit of justice.”

  “How about that,” Peter said. “What about my anus?”

  Bailey rolled her eyes.

  Lia gave him a look.

  “Ur-an-us is in the house of your finances for the next several years. That’s also the house of your personal values, so it may just mean that you are changing your priorities. Usually, though, it means that your personal income and finances are unstable and unpredictable, and changes will be sudden. It can mean a windfall, or it could be that you lose everything.”

  “So I should go ahead and buy lottery tickets, but only one a week?”

  “Exactly. I didn’t spend much time on your individual interpretations, but there’s one thing I want to point out before we go on to the comparison.” Bailey held up the pair of charts. “See how all your planets are grouped tightly together? It’s the same for both of you.

  “That’s called a bundle pattern. It signifies that you are high energy, highly focused people. It also means you are very confident in yourselves and single minded. And it is a sign that it’s natural for you to believe your way is the right way. It takes special effort for you to see other people’s perspectives.”

  “That’s not me,” Lia protested.

  “You’re a little different, because the Libra influence softens the tendency. Peter’s moon is in Sagittarius. That can also dampen the effect.

  “But you both have to make conscious effort to understand the other person’s point of view and you have to make room for the object of the other person’s focus.”