Case of the Hot Dog

by Erik Schubach

  Polly was looping an arm in mine to start hauling me to the door as Jane handed the folder to Graves, who left the room, a uniform at the door falling in behind him. I pulled my cousin to a stop at the door, which Jane was holding open for us to duck under her arm. Tall is sexy.

  I prompted, “Where can I get Oscar? He needs to be checked by a vet.”

  She shook her head and shared in a genuinely apologetic tone, “Sorry Finny, but Animal Control will have to take him until the victim's family can be located.”

  My eyes widened, and I felt a panic attack coming on... “You can't bring him to doggy jail! Do you know what kind of illnesses are floating around in their kennels? He won't understand. First his mom is taken away from him, then his freedom?”

  She shook her head, trying to explain, “It is procedure and...”

  I cut her off, “I don't give a fluffy bunny turd in space what your precious procedure says. I'm bringing Oscar to a proper vet, not the hacks they have down at Animal Control! You'll have to arrest me to stop me.”

  I looked at her expectantly, holding my red and bruising wrists out while Polly tried to haul me out as we still stood under Jane's arm. My jerk cop made an exasperated sound and muttered, “Fine. He's in the secretarial pool on the first floor. I'll make some excuses.”

  I snapped back, “Fine!” Not sure if it was my ire heating me up or catching the scent of leather, lilac, and gun oil on her.

  She growled back, “Fine!”

  Then she smiled and said calmly and almost demurely as she cupped my cheek with her free hand, causing me to close my eyes and lean into it to savor the heat of the contact, “See you at home?”

  I nodded then opened my eyes. She knew what she did to me with touches like that but not letting me take the next step, she was just pure evil.

  My voice was small as I said, “Pot roast for dinner, it's been simmering all day.”

  She nodded, kissed the top of my head, and then swatted my butt as I finally let a wide-eyed Polly pull me out of the room. I may have squeaked. Calvin thought it was all great fun as he dragged his leash down the hall with us.

  My cheeks were burning, and I felt self-conscious. Not knowing what to do with my hands, I smoothed out the skirt of my dress as we headed to the stairs, then bent to pick up Cal's leash.

  Polly was whispering, “Are you and McLeary... is she your... she's tall.”

  I smiled at my cousin and shrugged. “She's my – roommate and... well and something else... I'm really not sure what.”

  She giggled. “Well you two sound like an old married couple the way you snipe at each other. My heart about stopped when she caressed your cheek and kissed your head. I was all, 'Is this a new interrogation technique?'”

  I shrugged and felt my blush spreading.

  Then she asked in a conspiratorial tone, “Does Aunt Winfred know?”

  I nodded, then she whispered, “She's like some sort of amazon cop who looks good in black.”

  I nodded then squinted as we reached the first floor. “Hey!”

  She giggled again and said, “Just cuz I'm straight, don't mean I'm blind.” Then she added, “Huh, so you're gay. I thought you were dating that pretty boy, what's his name? Raife? But I can see it now, McLeary pushes all your buttons.”

  I squeaked out, done with the conversation, “Raife, God no. That's been over for a while now. I don't know what I am anymore. I'm pretty convinced I'm bi or something, I mean I've never really been attracted to other women. I don't even know why she caught my eye, I mean, she is soo infuriating.”

  She nodded sagely as we looked around to see if we could figure out where the secretarial pool was when she added, “And hot.”

  “Pollyanna!” Then I nodded, agreeing in a tiny voice, “And hot.”

  She giggled again, and we heard Jane somewhere in the hall above us. “Right hall, genius.”

  I called up sweetly as we turned right, “Hate you!”

  Her response sounded farther away, she must have been heading to her desk. “Hate you too. See you at home.”

  I smiled hugely as we walked until I realized Polly was grinning at me. I forced a frown. “What?”

  She shook her head. “She really has your number – and you liiiike it.”

  It was true, but I grumped out, “Shut up,” as the hall emptied us into cubicleville. The group of women and a couple men at one cubical, smiling and looking like a bucket of cute had doused them all, told me I had found where Oscar was.

  We excused me through the gaggle to see Oscar upside down, enjoying a belly rub from a middle-aged woman sitting at the desk. Calvin, ever opportunistic, took the occasion to sniff the upside down dog's ummm... parts.

  Oscar flipped to his feet, and the dogs shared excited wiggles and wagging tails.

  I went to pull one of the leash and harness sets from my shoulder bag when I realized I didn't have it. They still had mine and Calvin's things upsta... a uniformed officer, who looked like a kid to me, came jogging up almost on cue with said bags.

  He handed them to me saying, “Detective McLeary said to get these to you, ma'am.” Then not even waiting for a thank you, the young officer dashed off again.

  I said aloud, “Sorry ladies and gentlemen, Oscar here has a date with a vet,” as I pulled a leash from my bag and started to harness up the wiener dog. Hercules wouldn't mind sharing just this once. There were moans of disappointment, and a couple women brightened, saying in baby talk, “Bye bye, Oscar.”

  I like people who like dogs, it shows they have good taste.

  With that, Polly finally got me out the door and loaded in the clunky Pinto she has owned since she

  was old enough to drive. She was always the cool cousin, being older, and with a car. She used to drop by the house all the time and drive me and my twin brother Garrett around everywhere until she moved to the big city.

  She prompted when the ancient vehicle growled to life, Oscar on my lap and Calvin in the back seat, his head hanging between the seats to stare out the windshield, “Where to now?”

  I pointed forward. “Saint Bartholomew's Pet Clinic on Broadway please.”

  She cocked an eyebrow. Yes, when it came to my canine friends, price was no obstacle.

  I absently wondered how Jane was doing as the city passed by, Polly's air conditioning barely able to combat the furnace-like heat.

  Chapter 3 – Mable

  We wound up at the pet clinic a few minutes later, I was so relieved to get out of the car. I mean, I love Polly to death, but she asks more questions than mom. I swear the two of them are trying to marry me off to live vicariously through me or something. And some of the questions of a, umm... intimate nature I had no answers for.

  I had finally whined out to stop her from asking, “I don't know. It is all new to me too. I've never...

  we've never... we kissed.”

  She looked as if she were about to burst out in rainbows and puppies at that. She might actually be worse than mom.

  As I clipped up Oscar and Calvin again, making sure Calvin's packs were back in place, I told her as she sat behind the wheel, “Thanks for everything today Polly. You're the best.”

  She crinkled her nose, squinting at me until she slid her glasses down and teased. “Thank me now, just wait until you get my bill.”

  I beamed at her as I said while putting booties on the dogs, “Love you.”

  She was her cute awkward self as she gave a tiny wave and said, “Love you too, cuz.”

  I closed the door and patted the roof of the old car, and she pulled out into traffic. I couldn't figure out why the guys weren't beating a path to her door. I mean, she's a professional, cute, and really funny. So what if she was a little awkward. We all are, right? And she dressed like an eighty-year-old... and was a bit clumsy... and... forgets how to speak when a good looking boy is around... and... ok, I see it now. But seriously, it is their loss for not seeing the shining star beneath the sweaters.

  I was wondering if she was eve
r going to get around to billing me for any of the excellent legal work she has done for me in the past three years. She seems to be satisfied with just being invited over to mom's up in Liberty for dinner every once in a while.

  On that thought, I quickly texted mom. “Plus two for dinner Saturday.”

  The almost instant response was, “Polly?” She was mom's favorite niece. Well, her only niece, but still her favorite.

  I sent a smiley emoticon back.

  Mom insisted that Jane come to our family meals on the weekends whenever she wasn't on a case.

  So she already knew who the other of the plus two was. I think she has me married off to the ebony haired detective already with five adopted children she can spoil.

  I hesitated at that thought because I caught myself smiling wistfully. I exhaled in exasperation. I really had it bad didn't I?

  The boys and I weaved through the foot traffic and into the clinic. Ken was at the reception desk of the posh veterinary clinic that looked more like an upscale spa. I insisted on the best for my fuzzy clients, and so did their owners.

  The man straightened in his chair, and I tucked an errant curl back behind my ear as I grinned at him. “Hey, Ken.” I swear they shopped for their reception nurses from the same agency as Abercrombie and Fitch. I had to rein myself in from my normal flirting, it made me feel guilty like I was cheating on Jane.

  The tall, fit, ginger man stood at the counter, towering over me and looking like a walking sigh with his chiseled features. His smile was as genuine as his tone when he said with enthusiasm in his deep baritone, which did things to me, not unlike Jane's voice did, “If it isn't the lovely Finnegan May, dog walker extraordinaire. How can Saint Bartholomew's be of service to you today?”

  I held up Oscar's leash and explained, “Hot car rescue, can Doctor Hartman check out the little guy for me? He was showing signs of heat prostration. I hydrated him. He's been alert and touch greedy ever since. Had an entire office up in knots about him.”

  He took the leash as he crouched and was mauled by two tongues with wagging tails attached. I had to smile at how good the man was with my fuzzy minions.

  He asked, “His name?”

  I shrugged. “We've just been calling him Oscar.” I grinned when he snorted.

  He stood, taking Oscar's leash and leading him back. “Just sign him in there, I'll bring him back.

  Doctor Hartman has a Saint Bernard in surgery right now, so it'll be a couple hours. I'll call when she's done with him?”

  I nodded and called out, “Thank you.”

  I had to roll my eyes when he absently waved to me as he said in a babying voice to the Doxy as they disappeared into the back rooms, “Come on Oscar, let's see if Elise can give you a deep tissue massage in the mean time.”

  Whaaaa? I wish someone would give me a deep tissue massage.

  I sighed as I filled in the form on the counter, remembering when Jane had given me a shoulder rub the other night. It had felt so sinfully good that I had fallen asleep on the couch with her. She has a habit of not moving me when I do that. It's like she is afraid to disturb me when I'm laying on her lap.

  All I know is that it is a wonderful way to wake up.

  I looked at my amiable four-footed companion and said, “Well, shall we head home? They probably won't call for three hours or so.” He looked agreeable. He was always up for a walk through the park, even in this ungodly heat.

  I paused at the door to give my fuzzy compatriot a drink of water, and I drank some from the jug too, soldiering up the wherewithal to brave the furnace outside myself. I inhaled deeply, smoothed my skirt and slid on my sunglasses. “Let's do this boy.”

  He looked at me in anticipation with his doggy smile, and I did a Hollywood entrance into the world, shoving the glass doors open to step out into the sun on the walk, almost clobbering a couple with a door. “Oh no, I'm so sorry!” I held a hand halfway out to the woman who had been pulled up short by her man. I would have thwacked her good if he hadn't reacted so quickly.

  Embarrassed, I looked at them sheepishly. The woman eyed me then saw Calvin and gave a reluctant smile. Never underestimate the power of a cute dog. She mocked the old line that nobody really says here in New York, “Hey, we're walkin' here.” I shared an apologetic grin with her, though her man still seemed all bent out of shape.

  Cringing, I let Cal pull me toward the park, almost tripping over my own feet as I called back over my shoulder, “Sorry.” Goodness, could I be any more awkward?

  I felt like a lobster by the time we made it home to our second story walk up on west 57th, across the bricked patio courtyard from the old fifties style Brooklyn Diner and the 57th Street subway station.

  I was silently thankful that I had walked all my clients before the hottest part of the day. The city baked between two and four.

  The moment we stepped into the tenant access door of the four-story block building I unclipped Calvin. He went bounding down the narrow hall to the mailboxes set into the wall beside the freight elevator. I grabbed the mail, and he ran in circles around me then dashed up the stairs. Where did he get his boundless energy? The heat had sapped me of mine. I felt lethargic as I trudged up the stairs.

  I hesitated when I heard someone talking, then popped my head up to see a familiar woman crouching in the hall and giving my dog some lovin' as she scritched his cheeks.

  I pushed down a bit of jealousy as the tall, curvy redhead stood when she saw me, her black jeans and plain white tee making her look like the centerfold in a Biker's Monthly magazine. I caught a flash of color of a tattoo on her toned belly that was showing just ever so slightly above her low slung jeans, like a tease that made you want to see more. Jane's ex, Jessie Freeman, was the manager of the City Kitty alternative attire boutique and looked the part.

  She had dumped Jane almost unceremoniously three months back, which had the unintended result of Jane needing to find a new place to live. Enter Finnegan May.

  I smiled at the woman. She had been dropping by from time to time to bring Jane to coffee, and sometimes even me. I think she feels guilty about how she acted like a jealous girlfriend the first time we met. The ensuing argument between her and Jane after I had just been informed that Calvin's mom

  had been murdered and I had been brought to the precinct for questioning, had precipitated a mini panic attack in me.

  I thought it odd that they still hung out with each other from time to time. I couldn't do that with any of my exes without it becoming some sort of a booty call. I know because my ex-boyfriend, Rafiel Moretti keeps trying. And my stupid booty was always a bit tempted until my personal detective inserted herself almost rudely into my life.

  Even though Jess was the one to break up with Jane because of the stress of dating a cop, not knowing that each time they said goodbye in the morning could be the last, she still loved her. And I knew that Jane had loved her too, though she pretended to be aloof about it.

  I may be evil since I sort of liked the jealous look on Jane's face whenever she heard that Jess took me for coffee at the diner next door. At first, I thought she was jealous of me doing something with her ex, but the fact that that look of jealousy was pointed at Jessie instead of me warmed me up inside. I felt... desirable, and that was something I found which left me wanting. Jane could always do that with a glance, so why was the jerk holding me at arm's length?

  Waving from the hip, feeling self conscious, I squeaked out, “Hi Jess.”

  She gave me a genuine smile and a once over appraisal. “Hey, girlie. Was in the neighborhood and thought I'd drop by to see if Jane wanted to take a walk.” Then she winked as she winged a thumb at the door and said in a silly tone, “She ain't home.”

  I grinned at her antics as I moved past to unlock the door. I held it open, and Calvin dashed in. I said, “Very observant oh wise one. She's still at the station. Come on in?”

  She moved in and inhaled the savory aroma of the roast in the slow cooker, my stomach gurgled.


  “Mmmm... you know, she raves about your cooking. You don't need to cook for her you know, pipsqueak. She's a big girl who can make her own bad decisions diet wise.”

  Shrugging I offered, “I know I don't 'have' to, but I love cooking. It relaxes me.” Then I admitted as I hung up the various leashes from my bags on the labeled hooks by the door. “It has structure...”

  She got that look Jane sometimes got, a cross between distress and amusement. She mouthed,

  “OCD.”

  I grumped out as I stabbed her belly with a finger, “I am not!” And proceeded to hang my shoulder bag on the labeled hook with the leather jacket I stole from Jane shortly after we met. The detective insisted I wear it. It smelled like her, and that did pleasant things to me, so I was inclined to do what she said in that instance.

  After placing the mail in the little metal holder at the side table by the door which I had labeled

  “Mail,” I walked to the kitchen with the water jug and placed it in the fridge on the shelf by the “water”

  label. I glanced over to see her smug, lopsided grin as she watched while moving to the little kitchen table.

  I exhaled and blurted, “Well fine, but everyone is a little obsessive.” Why did I feel amused that she and Jane teased me? I added, “Stringbean.”

  Then, remembering my manners, and wanting a reason to let the cold air of the fridge keep pouring over me, “Something to drink? Water? Pepsi? Apple juice?” Blah, I sounded like Susie Homemaker.

  The cold air from the fridge reminded me that I really needed to get with the building owner and have the chiller on the roof looked at, it was running at full, and it was still in the upper seventies in my apartment. I knew he'd take advantage of me owning this apartment by making me pay more than my fair share, but I wanted to be comfortable in my own place. Maybe I should have moved into Calvin's old apartments in the 855 Building instead of my brother. Abigail Reeves, Cal's mom, had left it to him in her will, naming me his guardian. I just couldn't live in a place where someone I knew had been murdered.

  Jess cocked an eyebrow and chuckled out, “That's right, Jane said you had a thing about apple juice?”