Unleashed_Case of the Collie Flour

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Unleashed_Case of the Collie Flour Page 7

by Erik Schubach


  I growled out, “You didn't. I, uh, wear jeans all the time.” Not. Why was I so defensive, she was actually trying to be nice.

  I prepped two lunches quickly as she watched me, then she cocked an eyebrow when I got my label maker out and printed up a quick label and put it on another of my copious amounts of Tupperware and then offered her her lunch with both hands like an awkward tuna.

  She took a look at the label when she took the lunch, and I smirked and looked away, feeling all tricksy. I grinned to myself when she snorted, at least she was a good sport. She asked, “Jerk Cop's Friday Lunch?”

  I asked innocently without turning back toward her, “Oh, is that what it says?”

  She chuckled and said, “Thanks, Finnegan, I'll be home at a decent hour tonight, and I'll stock the kitchen.”

  I liked when she said my full name like that.

  I turned to watch her go. She had such a confident swagger. The kind of confidence I only had while walking my clients. I sort of envied that she could be that way all the time. The only chink I've seen in her armor was the hesitation in her, and the half-raised hand like she wanted to stop her when Jessie had left the prior day.

  I understood.

  I looked down at Calvin as I went to the door after she left. “Ready to gear up boy? Time for work.”

  His tongue lolled out as he tilted his head at me like he knew what I was saying and sat. I harnessed him up. Such a smart boy. I was so proud of how he was handling his loss.

  We stepped out, and I locked the door a few times just to make sure and pushed on it then we were off. As soon as we stepped into the sun, I inhaled the scents of the city and sighed. Yes, it was going to be a spectacular day!

  I still felt a little off, leaving at a different time, I really needed to get another client for the boy shift. I had so many on the waiting list. It made me feel good that my services were needed and appreciated.

  I looked around as we passed out of the park to head to Duke's place and pulled out my cell, I looked through my contacts then grinned. Jarvis! I sent a quick text to his mom and dad. The English bulldog was such a gentleman when I interviewed his owners for a place on my list last year. The poor fuzzy boy almost falls onto his jowls when he sneezes.

  I giggled when a minute later, Mrs. Montague respond with an all-caps YES!!! and three smiling emojis. I replied quickly that we'd be happy to take him on in two weeks so that they could give their current walker the proper notice. I wouldn't be accused of poaching. I'd get with them in the next few days with all the contracts and required paperwork to sign.

  The day turned out to be super awesome, though the boys did seem a little unimpressed by me sharing that Jarvis would be joining our gaggle soon. They were more intent on the little flexible frisbee I brought for us all to play with on the Great Lawn.

  The girls, however, seemed quite impressed with Calvin, and Princess still looked enamored with him, always watching with her big brown puppy-dog eyes. I giggled when I added in my head, “Like Jane's.”

  When we had all the ladies safely at home, I started us down east 79th, back toward the park. “Well boy, should we get back home, I have some contracts to prepare, print, and collate for the newest addition to our pack.”

  I took his waggy tail and cocked head as agreement. It was still odd to have him with me after my walking hours. I smiled hugely and looked up at the sun on its downward arc, closing my eyes to bask in its warmth as I stopped a giggle. I had a dog. Oh lordy be, Puddles back home at mom's was going to be so jealous when she smelled him on me.

  I squeaked at that thought. Logistical problem! How was I going to visit mom this weekend? Most trains and buses didn't allow non-working dogs on them, and I didn't have a car. Maybe I could bum a ride off of Garrett if he wasn't too busy with his bevy of girlfriends.

  I know, that wasn't fair of me, but he's just always been so handsome and popular. He's always had girls, and a guy or two, following after him over the years. Mom calls him a heartbreaker.

  I've always looked up to him. Tall, confident, popular. But he always kept falling for the wrong kind of girls in school. The popular clique, they used him up and dumped him. Though he never lost his winning smile.

  After school, he seemed to learn from his mistakes, and I have to admit, I really liked his past couple girlfriends. I was sort of sad when they broke up with him because he is not ready for a serious relationship so would never take things to the next level with them. I'm sure though that one day, a girl more stubborn than him will shackle him with a ring on his finger, then I can get me some little nieces or nephews.

  Oh fuzzy fritters, I was as bad as mom, wasn't I?

  Mom had noted that he has been getting pretty serious with his latest girl, Rebecca, though.

  For how confident and carefree he was, he's never spread his wings and left Liberty. He lives just down the street from mom. He made me blush the day he told me he envied how brave I was to move to the big city. He has always believed in me.

  I was knocked out of my thoughts when Calvin started pulling hard on the leash and growling. I looked at him as other people on the street started giving us a wide berth. “What is it, Cal?”

  He almost yanked me off my feet as he lunged at the alleyway, growling more fiercely. He would have succeeded if I hadn't had years of experience training dogs not to pull. I thrust one foot forward and planted it as I leaned back a little. My hundred and three pounds strained against his forty-five. Calvin was strong! And that he had four legs and a lower center of gravity made us about even.

  “Calvin? What is it?” I gave him the two tugs to get him to heel, but he ignored me and kept straining and barked once, looking back at me. He was almost frantic. “Is someone hurt or something?” I'd never seen him like this.

  I gave him some slack, and he pulled me into the alley. “What?”

  I grimaced, it was a fairly neat alley but still beyond my cleanliness threshold... shut up. There were a couple unlocked dumpsters there. Ah, it was Friday, trash day in this area, that's the only reason they'd be unlocked. As a matter of fact, I could see the garbage truck in the next alley across the street.

  Cal was jumping at one of the dumpsters, and then he was barking his fool head off. “Calvin, calm down, what is it?” His barking turned to frantic whining as he wound around my legs then went back and forth between the dumpster and me. It was all I could do to keep him from tying us up in the leash.

  He looked up at me and whined then barked once as he cocked his head at me then went to the dumpster and started sniffing around. Oh, no, eww... “Is there something in the dumpster, boy?” His growling was unnerving me, and I tried to calm him. “Ok, ok, I'll check. Sit.” he seemed to know what I was doing so he finally sat, whining.

  I grumbled as I moved a little empty fruit crate to the side of the dumpster, sometimes being short was a hassle, but most of the time it was awesome, “I am not looking through trash.” Belying my words, I looked through the copious bags at the top and almost gagged at the smell of rot and decay. It must have been refuse from a restaurant and was going bad.

  Three bags were purple, the rest were black. “I am not opening a trash bag on the street.” Calvin barked once and whined as I untied the trash bag and opened it with two fingers.

  “I am not going through a trash bag.” I tugged at some of the contents, paper towels and fabric and.

  Oh my god! I fell off the fruit crate, and Calvin swarmed me, sniffing at my hand that had flour and a brownish flaky substance that could only have been dried blood. Some girl was repeating, “Oh my god, oh my god!” Over and over again, I wished she'd stop so I could think. Oh... it was me. I didn't really sound that whiney, did I?

  I took a calming breath. Calvin had just found the evidence that was cleaned up at his place. But why today? We've walked past this alley the past couple days and nothing. I heard the engine of the huge dump truck heading across the street into the alley we were in, and I got it.

  Trash day!


  The killer had held onto the bags until today when the waste management department would take care of the evidence for them. They must have just dumped it, and Cal had smelled his mom's blood. It was heartbreaking.

  I looked at the approaching garbage truck, and then the dumpsters and I started striding toward them, my hand up to stop them. I slipped the loop of the leash around my other wrist then fished out my cell along with Jane's card from when she had questioned me.

  After the first ring, she responded, “Detective McLeary.”

  I lost it and blurted out, “Jane!... There's... blood...”

  Her normally teasing voice was suddenly full of concern, “Finnegan? What is it?”

  Chapter 7 – Home

  Jane was chuckling at me as I sat in her fancy-schmancy detective car, that midsize green SUV, as she drove me home. She said with a grin, “If I hadn't seen it, I wouldn't have believed it.”

  I pouted, my arms crossed as Calvin licked my cheek. Opportunistic boy.

  She just chuckled. “When we pulled up in that alley to see a tiny woman with her dog standing in front of a garbage truck with her eyes closed and hand up in a halt gesture, ignoring the three huge men yelling at her, I about died laughing. You looked like that defiant girl statue over on Wall Street.”

  I grumped at the evil woman, “What? They were going to take the dumpster trash anyway. They were yelling at me about schedules, and the union, and stuff. They were just... just big bullies.”

  She smirked at me. “Well it's a good thing you wore jeans today, you were badass.”

  I narrowed an eye at her, not knowing if she was being serious or teasing again.

  God, I was done with jeans for a while.

  Calvin and I had to sit through Jane and a Detective Flannery having me step them through everything that occurred in the alley and how we found the bags. Six times! I was feeling really small with the world pushing down on me. I think Jane noticed because after glancing at me, she shut off her tablet and folded her notebook closed where she was questioning the now very helpful sanitation workers.

  She said something to Flannery, and he nodded, and she walked back over to us and crouched in front of Cal, who was super excited to see her. She spoke to him as she rubbed his ears as he basked in the attention, tail swishing. “You've been through a lot today boy, I better get you home.”

  She looked up at me from where she crouched. “You coming?”

  I knew what she was doing, and I appreciated it, though it made me feel like she was coddling me like a child. I flipped her off, and she chuckled in amusement. Then as she helped us into the SUV, I whispered, “Thanks.” She just nodded once, not making eye contact.

  She asked as she drove, “What say we call in pizza tonight. Just relax at home with a movie?”

  I said quietly, “But I really like to cook. I don't mind, really.”

  She shook her head. “New rule, Friday's are lazy nights, no cooking or doing anything. Girl's nights where we just relax and decompress after a long week.”

  I nodded slowly. That did actually sound fun. But I'd have to rearrange the meal plans I had come up with for the coming week. I could throw caution to the wind and do that... as long as I didn't think too much about it, that is.

  I looked back from where we came from and asked hesitantly, “That was her blood, wasn't it? Abigail's? Don't you need to be back there?”

  She shook her head and grinned. “We have crime scene techs taking the bags and scouring the dumpsters and the area, uniforms canvasing the neighborhood to see if anyone saw anything or any cameras caught who went into the alley. My captain is yelling at me to take a day off since I've put thirty-six hours into the case already with not much rest. And the crime scene techs won't have anything conclusive for at least twenty-four hours. Flannery is fresh off a day off, he and the uniforms can finish the interviews with the rest of McKnight's employees.”

  She's put thirty-six hours into the first two days of investigation and still found time to move her stuff in and sleep last night? When had she gotten in any way?

  I nodded at the dedicated woman. “Ok. A girl's night.” I think she needed it more than me.

  This would actually be fun, I have ordered in maybe two or three times a year max since I came to the big city. I really did prefer to make my own meals, not to mention it was much cheaper.

  I don't think Raife even knows how to boil noodles. He'd order in every night I spent at his place. I was really starting to question what I saw in the man. Was I that shallow that I didn't see all the warning signs and was just blinded by a great looking man paying attention to me? Maybe I was more alone than I thought and just craved human contact.

  “Why so serious?” Her voice cast the thoughts aside, and I looked over to McSmirky McLeary. “You were frowning.”

  I shrugged. “You bring that out in me.” I couldn't keep a straight face at her amusement. I just shook my head and told the truth, “Was just wondering what I ever saw in Rafiel.”

  She exhaled and stated the obvious, “You, Miss Finnegan Temperance May, are a random woman.”

  It was true, what could I say? I shrugged.

  I was oddly glad that she was coming home to keep me company like this. I didn't want to think about what we had found, and it was a real possibility I would have obsessed about it a little if I were left to deal with my own thoughts.

  We pulled into the underground parking, and I furrowed my brow at my parking slot. There was a guy there putting up his convertible top on his Volkswagen bug. Jane's eyes were narrowed, and she tapped the horn. The stringy looking guy looked up. He gave me the impression of a reggae musician wannabe with his dreadlocks that looked way out of place on a twenty-something white guy.

  The guy furrowed his brow then called out in a terrible Jamaican accent as he walked belligerently toward us. “Hey! You're the woman who done stole my spot last night!”

  Jane's eyes narrowed, and I swallowed as she slowly undid her seatbelt, Calvin crowded her window, and I had to wrap an arm around his middle and hold him back. His tail was up, and he seemed intent on Jane's reaction to the man like he was watching her for cues. Oh good god, he saw her as his Alpha. Just great, yet another man passing me by.

  She slid out and said to me, “Stay in the car.”

  I blinked as she slid out and stood tall, towering over the young man by almost five inches. Stay in the car? Really? Stay in the car? It was my parking spot! Cops only say stay in the car to the comic relief in the movies and TV. I wasn't the comic relief!

  I growled and opened my door and then glurked when I stopped moving when I went to get out. Oh yeah... seatbelt. Shut up.

  I slid out telling an enthusiastic Calvin, “Stay in the car, boy.” I grinned at the irony then stepped around the SUV to Jane who was saying to the man, “This isn't your parking spot if you would please move your vehicle.”

  The guy lost his fake Jamaican accent and said belligerently, “Oh piss off girlie. I've been parking here for six months now. It's my spot.”

  I blurted in a high pitched voice, “No it isn't, it's my spot! Bought and paid for! ...”

  Jane held a hand out to stop me in mid-tirade as the man shot back, “The other people in the garage says there hasn't been a vehicle parked here for over a year.”

  Jane got his attention with her frosty tone, “So because someone wasn't using their property, you decided it was fair game? There are squatting statutes in Manhattan that prohibit that exact thing.”

  He shook his head and waved her off as he started to turn away, “And who are you? The police?” He froze when she shifted the light leather jacket she was wearing to expose her shoulder holster and her badge. “Oh, shit...”

  Suddenly he wasn't belligerent at all. “Sorry officer, I didn't know.”

  She corrected him, “Detective.”

  He nodded. Then he said, “I figured it was ok since the garage charges me the full forty dollars a day to park. Nobody ever said a word
to me.”

  Jane said smoothly as she let her jacket swing closed, “Well now you know. I don't want to ever see you in this parking slot again, or Miss May here might feel the need to sue you for back rent on her spot.”

  He paled at that then looked at us. “Sorry. Sorry. I'll move my car right now.” He scurried off, like a mouse being chased by a cat, and got into his VW. A moment later it was running, and his tires squealed with the speed in which he left my spot and headed out of the garage.

  I looked at Jane, that was sort of... she was a badass. She gave me a funny screwed up face then smiled. I grinned back and then she looked toward the toll booth at the entrance and said, “I think parking enforcement needs a little tip about the garage scalping. You own the spot, they can't charge for it.”

  I scrunched up my face and asked, “Can you not be Jerk Cop, at least tonight? So the attendant is a little opportunistic. It's girl's night.”

  She locked eyes with me. They were such an intense brown that seemed to get swallowed into the laser-focused black pupils. For a cop, she had really pretty eyes. My heart was racing. Why was that damn garage so hot?

  Jane seemed to deflate under my unintended stare, and she looked away with a smile. “Fine walker girl. I'll park the beast.”

  I smiled back at her, and she got that cocky look on her face that was unfair how sexy it made her look. I mean. Oh dear god, I was getting confused again. I swallowed and blushed and got Calvin out as she got into the car. Then we waited as she parked it.

  I admitted to her on the short walk home, “That was sort of hot back there.”

  She just grinned smugly and then looped her arm in mine as we took in the atmosphere of the city. “Come on Finny, let's get home.” Then she pointed out ironically, “And I still didn't get to the market.”

  I was fine with that, really, then wondered if that was why she suggested takeout. Was tall dark and sassy feeling guilty eating my food? It was the food for the apartment. She'd know that if she had read page eight of the rules we threw out.

 

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