Chasing Tail

by Roxanne St Claire

  Outside, they both headed back to the oaks and looked up to see…nothing.

  “Where is she?” Sadie pressed her hand to her chest. “Demi!”

  Connor circled the trees, studying where the branches all collided and connected at the top, planning a route and praying the cat hadn’t run away completely.

  “My grandfather has a ladder, Connor.”

  “Which would get me halfway to where she was and…” He looked hard. “Where the hell did she go?”

  “I don’t know.” Sadie bit her lip and stared into the dark green and brown of the trees. “But I’m worried.”

  He put his arm around her shoulders. “We’ll find her, I promise.”

  Just then, he heard a faint cry from behind the front window in the guesthouse. Was that…

  “Did you hear that?” he asked.

  “It’s from inside.”

  “She got back in?” His eyes widened in surprise, then horror when they heard a loud bark.

  “The dog door in the bathroom.”

  They both launched toward the front door, Connor going first with Sadie right behind him, both of them braced for whatever they’d find.

  “I don’t see her,” Connor said.

  But he saw Frank, flat on his stomach, his face on the ground, staring under the sofa.

  “That’s where she goes when she’s upset,” Sadie said, both of them walking slowly into the room.

  From under the sofa, the cat let out a soft mew.

  Frank barked once, not very loud, then pushed up and jumped onto the sofa.

  “Frank, no.”

  He got down immediately, but he had a corner of the blanket in his mouth. Holding on to it, he draped it over the front of the sofa, creating a cocoon underneath.

  “Oh my gosh,” Sadie whispered. “He’s tucking her in so she feels safe.”

  “Frankendog,” Connor said on a sigh. “Very slick move, bud.” He looked at Sadie and raised his brows. “I guess we’ve confirmed that he likes cats.”

  Frank let out a low moan, not really a growl, but not a bark.

  Demi replied with a noisy meow.

  “Are they…talking?” Sadie asked.

  Connor shrugged, taking a tentative step closer to watch the exchange. Then Frank inched a little toward the space under the sofa, whimpered again, then rolled onto his back with all four paws splayed in the most submissive pose Connor had ever seen.

  Two seconds later, Demi came slithering out from under the sofa, taking a slow step toward Frank, who didn’t move. She stuck her nose in his armpit, and he swooshed his tail over the floor.

  “Well, what do you know?” Connor watched in utter shock. “I think Frank has found his lovey.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  “A dog and cat connection? Not that unusual.” Shane turned from his fridge and put a glass of cold water on the kitchen counter for Connor. “Especially a stray dog. Who knows who he hung with in the woods?” Shane nodded at the water. “Would you rather have a beer after a twelve-hour Friday shift? Except, you are holding my most precious possession in your hands.”

  Connor eased the baby from one arm to the other, balancing Annabelle in the crook of his elbow. He was rewarded with a soft slap on the cheek from her sticky little hand and a gurgle of joy. “Are you his most precious possession, Anna-B?”

  “Not at four in the morning, she wasn’t.” Chloe came into the kitchen with Ruby, their Staffy, right on her heels. Frank stayed under the counter, not making any effort to befriend the other dog. No, Connor’s dog liked cats.

  “Give the poor man a beer, Shane,” Chloe said. “He won’t drop her.”

  “I don’t need a beer,” he said. “I need sleep. I only came by to return the ring because I’ve had it for too many days, and it’s making me nervous. And to see this sweet angel.” He bopped Annabelle’s nose, getting a big, wet, gummy smile. “Plus, I had to tell you about Frank and the cat. I honestly never saw anything like it.”

  “Oh, Frank,” Chloe crooned as she passed the dog, “do you have a girlfriend? Ruby’s crushed.”

  “And he’s been kind of mopey since we saw them,” Connor said. “Like he needs a fix of his girl.”

  Shane lifted a brow. “Or you do.”

  Connor just shot him a look. “It’s fake, remember?”

  “Funny, that’s what Rose Halliday is saying in her column in today’s Banner.”

  Chloe picked up the newspaper on the counter. “Oh, and the Vestal Valley Coyote Call published Sadie’s first interview, and my, she knows an awful lot about the maintenance budget and apparently has a very creative suggestion for traffic flow around the square.”

  Connor closed his eyes. “Yeah, maybe I need that beer and some access to the town council minutes.”

  “Oh, and there’s an editorial on BitterBark.com that debates whether the engagement is fake,” Chloe said. “Did you see that?”

  “Don’t sweat that, Connor,” Shane said. “Five people read that website.”

  “Six,” Connor said, tapping Annabelle’s nose again. “And one of them is your mother.”

  Annabelle grabbed his finger with her little fist and shoved it in her mouth.

  “Eww.” He yanked it free and held out a hand to Chloe who, true to form, had a clean paper towel close at hand.

  “Even though you think she’s on your side, don’t underestimate Rose Halliday,” Chloe said. “She’s intrepid and relentless. She damn near got the town council to cancel the Bow Wow Beauty Contest last year because she dug up some local who said it objectified dogs.”

  Connor looked to the ceiling. “Good grief, I remember that little controversy.”

  “Which wasn’t little, thanks to the Banner.”

  “We’re in agreement on Rose,” he said. “I respect and fear her. But I’m going to win because of Frank. Do you think if I had him make some appearances with the cat, it would be pushing the cute factor too hard, or really appeal to cat people? They are kind of left out of a lot around here.”

  “You can,” Chloe said. “But Frank is the ceremonial candidate. People are voting—or not—for you, Connor, knowing that you’ll be the one actually sitting in the chair. Yes, there’s a lot of love for the idea of a dog mayor, especially from my department. Tourism will benefit with Frank the Mayor at every event.”

  “That’s my plan. But…traffic? Budgets? Cost of living and retail space? Sadie knows it all cold.”

  “Do you care about that stuff, Connor?” Shane asked.

  “I care about Bitter Bark, so yeah. How is it you don’t know that?”

  “Because you just joke about Frank all the time. Have you even done any real interviews?” Shane screwed up his face.

  “Not really,” he admitted. “I hate them. I’ll do the job when I have it, but I can’t stand sitting there answering inane questions. Although, with Sadie…” He looked down at Annabelle, who was extremely fascinated by his earlobe. “It’s kinda fun,” he whispered to her.

  “Dude.” Shane came around the counter as if magnetically drawn to his daughter. “No one is going to vote for you if they don’t know where you stand on things.”

  He dipped away, not ready to relinquish the baby Shane wanted back. “Your daddy has no faith in me. Or Frank.”

  She used her little palm to push up his nose, giggling at his reaction.

  “I can get you a lot of information that’s public, but takes work to access,” Chloe said. “I’ll email you some things that will really give you some talking points for the debate.”

  He huffed out a breath. “Debate schmebate.” He crossed his eyes for Annabelle, who rewarded that with a menacing little fat-fingered grip on his nose.

  “You can’t send Frank up there ‘to talk,’” Chloe said, using air quotes.

  “I know. Definitely send me the materials, Chloe. Thanks.”

  Annabelle dropped her head and started using Connor’s shoulder as her personal teething ring, the slobber already soaking through his FD T-sh
irt. “And I will thank you, Annabelle, to gnaw on my other shoulder to even things out.”

  Chloe laughed, leaning on the counter and watching the two of them with a smile. “I’m glad to help,” she said. “I was beginning to think you weren’t taking the mayor’s job seriously. So was my aunt, to be honest.”

  Damn this reputation hanging over his head. Who would run for mayor if they weren’t a little bit serious? “Is that why I don’t have her endorsement?”

  She shook her head. “My uncle Frank didn’t believe in them. But he did believe in this town, Connor. He had the same passion you do, and if you can get that across, you can win.”

  “But what if your ‘fiancée’ wins?” Shane asked. “Then what?”

  “Then…I lose. What do you mean?”

  “She’ll have to forfeit the election when you two don’t get married afterward.”

  “Not if we have a nice, friendly post-election ‘breakup.’” He shrugged into the pool of slobber on his sleeve. “No one can actually prove the engagement was fake unless they eavesdrop on our conversations. Or notice she doesn’t have that ring on anymore.”

  Chloe snapped her fingers. “Oh, I totally forgot I have one of those lab diamonds for when we travel. It’s not worthless, but it’s not as valuable as this one. Hang on a sec, I’ll get it.”

  The minute Chloe left the kitchen, Annabelle whipped around, stared at the doorway, then took a breath to howl in fury.

  “Whoops. We’ve lost eye contact with the mothership.” Shane reached for her again, but Connor shook his head.

  “I got this, man. I can calm her down.” He hushed and patted her tiny back as it rose to power up for the next wail.

  Shane just smirked. “You got this, huh?”

  “Shhh, Anna-B.” He tried to sway a little, but that made her cry more. “She’s coming back. Your mama’s coming right back.”

  She choked a little on the next cry. “Is she okay?” Connor asked.

  “She’s not happy, but it happens a lot. You sure you don’t want backup?”

  A giant drop of baby drool hung from her quivering lower lip. “Come on, now, Annabelle,” he whispered. “She’ll be right back.”

  She took a shuddering breath, closed her eyes, and was silent for a second.

  “What does that mean?” he asked Shane.

  “She’s gonna blow.”

  He shot his smartass cousin a look just as Annabelle leaned forward and let out a tiny stream of baby puke on his shoulder and chest.

  “She blew,” Connor said dryly.

  Shane reached for her, easily taking the baby from Connor. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you. My girl is a little bit pukey.”

  As Connor plucked at his shirt, Chloe came sailing back in. “Oh no. Did she get ya? Sorry.” She held a ring box out to him. “Here you go. Let me grab a wet cloth.”

  Annabelle dropped her head hard on Shane’s shoulder, shoving her thumb in her mouth and staring at Connor with that smug look that said she got exactly what she wanted.

  “That ring should help convince the locals.” Chloe wet two small towels in the sink and squeezed out the excess water, handing one to Connor, the other to Shane in a silent choreographed exchange he imagined they’d done a hundred times in the last six months.

  “But you might need to do more.” Shane dabbed at Annabelle’s mouth.

  “Like be seen in public together?” Connor guessed, flipping the box open and blinking at the sizable rock inside. “Whoa. This is fake?”

  “Oh, there’s a debate about that,” Chloe told him. “It’s grown in a lab, not the ground, but who can tell the difference? That one was half the cost of a comparable diamond, and it’s not super fancy, so Sadie can wear it without quite as much worry.”

  “Thanks for the loan, Chloe. You can have it back as soon as we break up.” He made a face as he pressed the towel to the spot on his shirt. “And that sounds as stinky as this baby vom.”

  “Does it, now?” Shane laughed softly. “Remember when Liam and Andi got married, and it wasn’t supposed to be real?”

  “That was your dad’s idea to protect Christian from being taken into custody by his biological father’s family,” Connor said.

  “But it sure got real,” Shane said, his message coming through loud and clear. “Like now-they-have-Christian-and-Fiona real.”

  “Who knew they’d fall in love after that fake marriage?” Chloe crooned.

  “My dad,” Shane said, then whispered into Annabelle’s ear, “That’s why they call your grandpa the Dogfather.”

  “Speaking of the Dogfather,” Connor said. “What we really need is for the Dogmothers to claim another victory. No reporter is going to question the authority of Finola Kilcannon.”

  Shane chuckled. “Not to mention the other one. I’d put Yiayia up against Rose Halliday any day.”

  “I don’t know.” Chloe shook her head. “Gramma Finnie isn’t going to lie. It’s just not in her DNA.”

  “She might for a good cause,” Connor said.

  “Like you as the next mayor of Bitter Bark?” Shane asked.

  “Like me really engaged to Sadie,” he said. “If she thinks by talking this thing up, that will make it somehow become real? Oh man. She’ll be embroidering ‘Connor and Sadie Forever’ on pillows and handing them out in Bushrod Square.”

  Shane nodded, fighting a smile. “But what if it is real?” He got a little closer, handling Annabelle like she was a natural extension of his body. “What if this woman is the one that takes Connor Mahoney off the market?”

  Connor snorted. “Then pigs would be airborne, and the devil would be ice skating. I’ll get serious about this mayoral race when it comes to issues, but I have no plans of really getting serious with a woman.” He leaned into to talk to Annabelle. “Even if she is a stunning smokefest with heavenly hair.”

  Annabelle just sucked her thumb and stared at him.

  “No plans at all, Connor?” Chloe asked, nothing but innocence and interest in her question. “You’re never getting serious? Why?”

  “Because…” He looked from one to the other. Did he have to explain it? “I don’t want to? Will that work for you? I like things just the way they are, nice and easy and uncomplicated.”

  “Says the man running for mayor with his dog and using a fake engagement to bypass the rules.” Shane cracked up. “Super uncomplicated, man.”

  “You know what I mean. I like the status quo. I don’t want a…” Loss. “Girlfriend,” he finished lamely.

  “Well, you should know that when Gramma and Yiayia get involved, they aren’t going to back down and accept an ‘amicable breakup,’” Shane said.

  “They’ll have to, and I can handle a little pressure from the octogenarians to help the cause. But you know what I can’t handle? Eastercrook as mayor.”

  “Amen to that,” Chloe said. “So you manage those grannies, and I’ll pull some fact sheets and minutes from the council meetings that can help you in the debate. It’s all public record, but I can save you the time of digging through the files.”

  “Thanks,” he said. “Oh, and I told Sadie I’d help her get those thirty signatures she needs.”

  Shane gave him a look. “Helping the competition?”

  “A favor for my fiancée,” he said. “But I’m on duty all day tomorrow.”

  “Bring her to Waterford on Sunday,” Shane suggested. “You’ll get twenty in one afternoon.”

  “Good call. I’ll ask her.” He lifted the ring box. “Maybe I can propose again in front of the whole family. Get some pictures of it to make it official?”

  “That’ll definitely break the hearts of a dozen or so single women in Bitter Bark,” Chloe joked.

  Shane held the baby, who reached out two grabby hands like she wanted to chew the crap out of the ring box. “Say goodbye to your second cousin once removed…from the dating scene.” Shane, of course, chuckled at his own stupid joke.

  “Gimme that girl.” Connor lifted the baby f
rom Shane’s hands, and she immediately blew a raspberry that sprayed his face, making them all laugh as he handed her right back. “Man, your baby is messy.”

  “It’s all messy.” Chloe came around the counter to give him a hug goodbye. “Relationships, marriage, babies. And believe me, Connor, no one was more afraid of messes than I was.”

  “So be careful playing with fire, Lieutenant.” Shane’s smile was huge and maybe a little superior. “’Cause you just might get fried.”

  Connor snorted as he leashed Frank and headed to the kitchen door. “Don’t worry. I’m an expert with women and fires. I’ll be fine.”

  But he could hear Shane and Chloe laughing when he closed the door behind him.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Something clunked outside.

  Instantly, Sadie sat up and blinked into the dimly lit guesthouse. Demi stirred, then lifted her head, ears perked.

  “You heard that?” she whispered, picking up the furry body to hold her close, as if the cat could help her against an intruder.

  Demi purred and meowed and squirmed out of Sadie’s hands, walking across the bed, her paws crunching over the papers spread out on top of the comforter. With a side-eye of deep disgust, Demi stretched out on top of two legal pads covered with notes and ideas for the debate.

  “I know, I fell asl—”

  Another noise outside cut her off, a thump like something—or someone—had bumped one of the clay pots in Boomie’s garden. Demi sat up, on full alert now.

  “Raccoon?” She pushed the coverlet back and slipped her bare feet onto the rug, blinking into the soft light from the end table. “The midnight oil,” she muttered, but it was long past midnight.

  Grabbing her phone from the table, she did a double take to see it was a few minutes before five a.m. Jeez. She must have crashed around one or so. For a moment, she sat still on the hard, uncomfortable sofa-bed mattress, half asleep, half—

  A flash outside, instant and bright white, made her gasp. Was that lightning…or a camera?

  She walked toward the window, grateful she’d closed the blinds last night, but froze in mid-step when she heard the distinct sound of footsteps on the stone walkway between this shed and the garden, retreating into the night.