Maximum Security (A Dog Park Mystery), Page 2

  Jose considered the gap. “We could pin it down somehow, maybe pile some wood in front of it so she can’t get at it.”

  “I’ve got camping gear in the car,” Lia said. “How about tent stakes?”

  “We can give it a shot. We’ll look after Max while you get them. Got something to hammer them in with? If you don’t, I think I’ve got something in the van,” Jose said.

  “I’ve got a rubber mallet,” Lia offered.

  “That’ll do ‘er.”

  Lia handed Max’s lead to Jim, then made a quick trip to her car trunk. She returned with a tote bag containing a variety of tent stakes and her mallet. She clipped Max’s lead to the fence using a carabiner. Max lay down and settled her head on her paws with an offended huff. Honey and Chewy sniffed at the prisoner. She refused to look at them.

  “Poor Max,” Jim said. “She should be free. Look at how sad she is. You won’t try to get out again, will you, Max?”

  Max lifted her head at her name, then gave Lia a dirty look.

  “Ha. That’s what you said the last time.”

  “We found the hole. She can’t get out while we’re all standing here.”

  “Wanna bet?”

  “She can’t get out, can she, Jose?”

  “Leave me outta this,” Jose said. “I don’t want to have nothin’ to do with it.”

  “You really want me to let her go, Jim?” Lia asked.

  “I do.”

  “It’s on you, then. She gets out, you find her.”

  “Agreed.” Jim leaned over and unclipped the lead from Max’s collar. Max stood up, stretched, then looked around, suspicious of her sudden freedom. She took a cautious step, then another, then trotted off without looking back.

  “See how happy she is?” Jim said.

  “Uh huh. I’m just waiting to see how happy you are when she’s gone again.”

  “Children,” Bailey interrupted, “no squabbling.”

  “Yes, Mom,” Lia and Jim said in unison. They turned to watch Jose as he sized up the mismatched array of tent stakes.

  “Lose many of these, Lia?” Jose asked.

  Lia shrugged. “Is there anything you can use?”

  “No problemo. Jim, you’re the engineer, What do you think is the best way to stake this?”

  “I say we pull the bottom of the fence inward, then go straight down.”

  “I’m with ya.”

  The pair put their heads together, deciding to cover their bases with two styles of stakes: shorter, U-shaped, wire stakes and longer, plastic stakes that looked like railroad spikes with a hook on the top. Bailey and Lia watched as they selected five stakes and positioned them.

  Honey nudged Lia’s hand. Chewy barked, bouncing against her shin. “What’s up with you guys? Why aren’t you playing?” She looked around. “Where’s Max?” She scanned the park, spotting a tan and white blur racing for the far corner.

  “Oh, no, not again!” Lia moaned as she watched Max sprint down the hill toward the fence.

  “It’s a four foot fence. She can’t make the jump,” Jim insisted.

  “I wouldn’t put it past her,” Jose said.

  The four of them watched as Max built up speed on the grass. She leapt across the last bit of slope, boosted herself on the horizontal corner brace and went over the top. Her tail high, she disappeared into the woods.

  “Smart dog,” Jose said. “We keep plugging the fence and she keeps finding new ways out. You could hire her out as a security consultant.”

  “What am I going to do?” Lia moaned. “I’ve got a meeting at Renee’s in a couple hours.”

  “She always comes back,” Tom said. “You just need to wait.”

  “I just need to wait? What happened to you being responsible?”

  “I just promised she wouldn’t get back out of the hole. I didn’t say anything about her jumping the fence.”

  “Well, that’s a weaselly way to get out of it. I thought you were an engineer, not a lawyer.”

  Repair finished, Jose stood up and handed the tote to Lia.

  “Thanks a lot,” she grumbled.

  “Any time.”

  They turned away from the fence and headed for a picnic table.

  “Maybe she’ll bring you a present this time,” Bailey said.

  “Like I needed that turkey carcass she stole yesterday,” Lia groused.

  Lia climbed on top of the picnic table. Leaning her elbows on her knees, she dropped her head in her hands. She blew out noisily, sending a stray wisp of hair flying. Honey walked up and nosed her arm. Chewy propped his front paws on the bench and head-butted her leg. She ruffled the fur on Chewy’s head absently.

  “You guys don’t run away. Why does your foster-sister have to be so bad?”

  Honey whuffed sympathetically, as if to say such a thing was incomprehensible to her.

  “And why aren’t you getting along with her?” She asked the dogs. “Maybe if you were nicer, she wouldn’t run away. The one time I agree to foster a dog, and I wind up with a kleptomaniac Houdini. ‘I’ll take that one,’ I said. ‘She has such sweet eyes.’” Lia snorted. “Looks like we’re stuck here until your delinquent sister comes back.”

  Honey and Chewy looked at each other.

  “Too bad it’s not winter,” Jose said. “If there was snow we could track her.”

  “Gee, yeah, too bad it’s not freezing outside,” Lia groused. She got up off the table and the quartet headed to the front of the park, trailed by their pack of dogs.

  “Don’t you worry,” Jose said. “She’ll be back. She knows where her kibble comes from.” In his forties and balding, he looked like someone who had played ball in high school, or spent time in the military. Jose claimed Italian ancestry, despite his name. “I gotta get to work, but I’m sure Jim will stay with ya. C’mon, Sophie,” he called to his Mastiff. “We gotta go.”

  “I’ve got an appointment at the optometrist,” Jim mumbled, following Jose. “Gotta go. Fleece! Chester! Home!”

  “Way to abandon a sinking ship,” Lia called after the retreating figures.

  “I’ll stay.”

  “Thanks, Bailey. You’re a true friend.” She turned back toward the entry corral. “Not like some people I could name,” she yelled. Jim shrugged his shoulders and kept going.

  “How long do you think she’ll be gone?” Bailey asked.

  “Hour, hour and a half, at most. I hope. Guess I’d better call Renee.”

  ~

  Lia Anderson was a pretty woman, thirty-ish, with slanted green eyes and high cheekbones. Her firm chin was accented by a slight dent that her boyfriend, Peter, liked to tap with his forefinger.

  She sat on a picnic table with Bailey and repaired her I-haven’t-had-coffee-yet knot of streaky chestnut hair, anchoring it more firmly with a butterfly clip. Her slim figure was arrayed in oversized, paint-spattered, studio clothes that doubled as dog park gear. Lia called this her bag-lady look.

  She and Bailey had already walked a mile to pass the time, crossing the park ten times. The dogs realized they weren’t going anywhere during the fourth lap and sat down in the middle of the park to watch.

  After their walk, they threw balls for the dogs until the dogs stopped chasing them. They questioned everyone who entered the park. No one had seen Max.

  A silver pickup sporting a camper shell and a kayak rack pulled into the parking lot, honking. Terry Dunn parked next to the fence and jumped out, leaving his dogs in the truck. He was a portly, ruddy-complected man bearing a strong resemblance to Teddy Roosevelt.

  "Hey, Lia,” he yelled. “Max is headed this way. I saw her along the side of the road on Westwood-Northern."

  Lia hopped off her perch. “Thank God." She ran for the corral, grabbed Max’s leash off the fence and draped it around her neck as she headed down the service road. She hit the parking lot, joining Terry in time to see Max enter the lot from the street. Max maintained a jaunty trot despite a heavy load.

  "What is that?'' Lia asked Terry
.

  Terry squinted behind his wire rims. “Don’t know. I thought it was a branch, but it doesn't look right. Maybe a bone? It's awfully big. I’d say it’s a moose bone, but you don’t see moose this far south. Can’t keep them in zoos, either–”

  "You think she found a deer skeleton?”

  "Could be. I imagine there are a few field-dressed carcasses lying around. Which does nothing to reduce the resident coyote population. Coyotes are scavengers just as much as they are predators. They aren't picky . . . ."

  Terry continued his foray into the habits of the local wildlife as she watched Max approach. Max stopped at Lia’s prehistoric Volvo and looked toward her expectantly while struggling to balance her newest find, an eighteen inch-long bone with knobbed ends. Bits of gore clung to the joints.

  "Of all the nerve! She's had her little field trip, and now I’m supposed to chauffeur her home. Terry, will you circle behind her? I don't want her running off if she gets another wild hair.”

  Lia approached the car cautiously, then opened the rear door. Max gave Lia a dubious look as she dragged her treasure into the back seat. Lia shut the door, trapping Max inside. "Thanks, Terry. Now all I have to do is get that bone away from her. You want to volunteer?"

  Terry peered into the car, through windows smeared with nose prints. "You really ought to clean these off."

  "Yeah, Yeah. So how do I get that bone from her? I have no problem with her having a deer bone, but I don’t want her fighting with Honey and Chewy. I think she could be food-aggressive.”

  “You’ve got a bigger problem.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “That’s not a deer bone. It’s too thick.”

  “I really don’t care what kind of bone it is. I just need to get it away from her without her escaping again.”

  “That’s a femur. A human femur.”

  Lia gaped at Terry. “Are you sure?”

  “It’s unmistakable. Can’t tell if it’s from the left leg or the right. It’s a bit on the smallish side . . . . Could be female.”

  Lia shut her eyes and slumped against the car with a pained expression. “Oh, God, I think I’m going to vomit.” She kept her eyes shut and concentrated on calming the heaving in her stomach. She tasted bile along with coffee and hazelnut creamer.

  Terry went back to his truck and retrieved a bottle of water. He handed it to Lia. She carefully sipped on the water and wiped her mouth.

  “Thanks. I guess I’d better call Peter. He’s going to say, ‘I told you so.’”

  Max settled down on the seat and began gnawing on her prize.

  Terry raised his eyebrows. “Our resident detective had Max pegged as a body snatcher?”

  “He just thought she would be more trouble than she’s worth.” Lia noticed Max chewing her gruesome toy. “Dammit, we can’t let her eat that. You have anything tasty in your truck?”

  “Dog biscuits. I doubt she’ll see that as a desirable trade.”

  “We’ve got to give her something good to get her away from that. This is creepy enough without getting into a tug of war over human remains.” She reached into a cargo pocket, pulled out her wallet and extracted a five. “Can you run up to UDF and grab a pack of hot dogs?”

  As Terry made his way to his truck, Bailey walked down to the fence, accompanied by her furry charges. “Is there a problem? How long do you need me to hang here with the dogs?”

  “Geezelpete, Bailey, you’re not going to believe this. Terry says Max got hold of a human thigh bone.”

  ”You’re kidding!” Bailey craned her head, attempting to see. “And you haven’t taken it away from her?”

  “You want to do it?” Lia challenged. “I haven’t had her long enough to feel comfortable reaching into her mouth to take away food. Terry’s getting a bribe.”

  “She’s eating it?”

  “Um,” Lia said, looking into the car. “Right now, she’s licking it. I’ve got to call Peter. Can you hang on until we get it away from her?”

  “Yeah, as long as I don’t have to watch.” Bailey headed back up the hill, then stopped when she realized all three dogs were still at the fence, avidly aware that a drama was unfolding. “Seriously?” She shook her head. “Sorry, Lia, looks like you’ve got an audience. I’ll keep an eye on them, but I’m doing it from the top of the hill.”

  Lia sighed, rolled her eyes, and pulled out her phone. Peter answered on the third ring. When she was finished with her explanation, all she heard was dead silence. “Um, Peter? You there?”

  “Yep.”

  “What should I do?”

  She heard a gusting noise that could only be Peter sighing. She imagined him rubbing his temples.

  “I’ll call it in and be right down.”

  ~ ~ ~

  Peter Dourson was a tall man, over six feet, and lanky in a way that looked excellent in blue jeans. His dark hair was usually worn in a modified Paul McCartney cut that curled over his collar and gave his captain fits. The resemblance to the former Beatle was reinforced by puppy-dog eyes that drooped slightly at the outside corners. His good looks were understated, being pleasant more than handsome. Lia appreciated this. She’d learned to distrust overly attractive men.

  When he arrived, he found Lia using Terry’s pocket knife to open a pack of hot dogs while Max eyed her from the back seat of the car, one paw firmly possessing a bone that was clearly human in origin. He’d bagged too many deer to mistake Max’s prize for the animal remains he’d been expecting. His pulse accelerated as adrenaline trickled into his system, sharpening his senses.

  “Hail, my good man,” Terry said. “Are you joining our siege?”

  “Looks like. Hey, Babe,” he said.

  “Babe,” Lia gritted out, “is a pig.”

  “From the looks of it, the pig is in the back seat. How many of those have you fed her already?”

  “None, so far. We’re working up a battle plan. Can you pull your Blazer over here, just far enough away so I can open the door?”

  “Sure.” Peter went back to his SUV and drove it over, parking four feet away from Lia’s Volvo. He hopped out. “What next, Boss?”

  “Stand on the other side of the car, by the back door. When I lure her out, you can reach in through the window and grab the bone.” Peter pulled a pair of neoprene gloves out of his pocket, putting them on as he took his position.

  Lia turned to Terry. “Terry, you stand by the front passenger door, so you’re behind the rear door when I open it. Your job is to keep her from escaping that way.”

  Once Terry and Peter were in place, Lia opened the back door to her sedan. Max lifted her head, making a low, rumbling sound of displeasure. Lia held up the package of hot dogs and removed one, laying it on the seat just out of Max’s reach. She stepped back several feet, leaving the door open. Max cautiously inched her nose forward on the seat, then gobbled the hot dog down and returned to guarding her bone.

  Next, Lia placed a hotdog on the edge of the seat. She remained standing just outside the car. Max eyed the wiener hungrily but didn’t move. Lia held out the pack of hotdogs and removed them one at a time and laid them in a pile on the pavement. Max watched every move she made with a level of concentration sufficient for neurosurgery. Saliva began to drip from her jaws. Lia shifted over by the car’s rear fender, out of Max’s line of sight.

  “Now what?” Terry stage-whispered.

  “We wait,” Lia whispered back.

  By this time, Bailey had spread the news of Max’s find across the park. The inside of the fence was lined with people and dogs, all waiting for a circus. The dogs were drooling as they watched the pile of wieners. The hushed crowd reminded Peter of a lurking mob of zombies.

  Thirty seconds ticked by. Then a minute. Max’s nose appeared, then her head. She inhaled the single hot dog on the seat then looked around, calculating. Released by some unknown mechanism, she jumped for the pile of processed meat and began bolting it down. Peter reached in the open window and grabbed the bone.
>
  “Okay,” he called, “I’ve got it.” He walked behind the car to the rear of his Blazer, moving quietly so as not to alert Max. Lia pulled Max’s leash from around her neck and took the clip in one hand. One cautious step at a time, she moved toward Max, waiting until she finished her feast. Peter reached into his car and pulled out a pair of brown paper grocery bags. He placed one over each end of the bone, overlapping them in the middle to fully contain the bone. He was putting the package in the back of his SUV when he heard Lia whoop.

  “Gotcha!” Lia yelled, triumphant. Applause broke out at the fence line as Lia clipped a leash to Max’s collar. Max looked up. Her bewildered expression morphed into betrayal when she realized her bone was gone and she was restrained.

  The crowd at the fence broke up. Terry returned to his truck, where Jackson and Nappa had been patiently waiting with their heads hanging out of the windows.

  Lia turned to Peter. “What happens now?”

  “I’m going to need your help. We’ve got to get Max to retrace her steps so we can find out where that bone came from. Do you have time for a hike in the woods?”

  Lia crinkled her brow, considered. “I’ll call Renee again. And I need to take everyone home and feed them first.”

  “You won’t need to feed Max, she just ate a pound of hot dogs.”

  Max chose that moment to start heaving. She vomited hot dog chunks all over Peter’s shoe. Relieved of her gastric distress, she looked up and grinned.

  “Damn.” Peter pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and stood on one foot while he wiped off his defiled footwear. “She did that on purpose. It was revenge for taking her bone away.”

  “Seriously? She’s just a dog. She doesn't think that way.”

  “Want to bet?” Peter watched Max lap at the disgorged pieces of meat laying on the pavement.

  “Max, stop that!” Lia dragged her away from the mess.

  “Take Honey and Chewy home and feed them. I’ll hang on to Max. I’d rather she was hungry, It’ll motivate her to go back to her find. I’ll get someone from District Five to pick up the bone while you’re gone. You still have that machete with your camping gear?”