Doghouse (12 page)

“I'll make it up to you, I promise.”

“Yeah, you will,” Shana said. “Now go say hello to your dog before she expires on the spot.”

Georgie was, in fact, dancing in place a little, looking at Ginny with anticipation.

Not too long ago, the shar-pei would have charged across the floor to greet Ginny after any time apart. Months of expensive training and a little maturity had checked that urge, and now she only tugged once on the leash to indicate where she wanted to go, and then waited for permission. In the middle of all the worry, Ginny felt a flash of pride.

She lifted her hand and called, “Georgie, come!”

Thankfully, Tonica let go of the leash in time.

“So what happened?” she asked Tonica, when the two humans joined them. Georgie was pushing against Ginny's knee, while Parsifal reached down from her lap to pat the larger dog's nose. “Where was he?”

“He is right here,” Deke muttered, looking around the bar, obviously trying to spot Seth.

“Downtown, trying to beat information out of a guy half his age.” Tonica had an odd expression on his face that she couldn't quite decipher, until he shot a look at Shana like he wasn't entirely comfortable talking in front of her. The other woman took the hint and got up with a smile at the newcomers. “If you'll excuse me, I need to use the ladies'.”

Tonica watched her go, then shook his head. “Deke's lucky the guy's mother taught him not to hit crazy people.”

“Hey.” But this time Deke's protest was halfhearted at best.

“No cops involved?”

“No. Nobody wanted to make a fuss. I get the feeling it's the kind of place where if the cops show up, half the regulars would fade out the back door.”

She raised her eyebrows, and he laughed a little. “Okay, no, it's not that bad, but it probably was before gentrification kicked in hard enough to shove them up a few rungs.”

“It used to be lots worse,” Deke agreed, as though that were a thing that he missed. Ginny thought he probably did, and almost understood it: things could be simpler when they were bad.

Tonica started to say something, and then made a face, smoothing it out only to show professional charm as Shana
came back. “And we haven't met? I'm Teddy, manager of this fine establishment.”

“I'm Shana Markonis, and Ginny warned me about you.”

“I did no such thing,” Ginny said, “so stop trying to get me in trouble. Deke, sit down, your hovering is making me nervous, and if you try to bolt again I'll sic Georgie on you.” She waited while Deke slid into the booth next to Shana, who moved her coat to make room.

Tonica scanned the bar, his gaze lingering on Jon briefly. “I should go make sure that Jon has everything under control.”

“He doesn't,” Shana said. “But he's very cute.”

Tonica just sighed, and went under the bar to speak to the other man.

“What?” Shana widened her eyes at Ginny. “He is cute!”

Ginny couldn't disagree, and watching the two of them standing next to each other, Tonica with his buzz cut and no-nonsense stance, in one of those boring gray sweaters he favored, versus Jon's long blond ponytail and bright red button-down, was like looking at a spectrum of Male Appeal. Not that she'd ever tell either of them that.

“The tip jar is going to be overflowing tonight,” she predicted, then turned her attention to Deke. “So what the hell was that all about?”

“What was what all about?” He slid a glance sideways at Shana, similar to Tonica's, as though asking why they were talking in front of her.

“Don't give me that crap. You ditched us, ran off, and
Teddy had to haul you back from what sounds like massive stupidity . . . so what the hell were you trying to do?”

“Wait, this is the guy you want me to babysit?” Shana asked. “Girl, he doesn't look like he could be that much trouble.”

“He is,” Ginny said grimly.

“I'm sorry,” Deke said, and Ginny shook her head.

“That might work on Tonica,” she told the older man. “I'm the tough one in this partnership, and I don't melt that easy.” A partial lie, but a plausible one. “What was so important that you had to flit off on your own?”

“The only guy who can clear me is the guy who hired me,” Deke said, like it was the most reasonable thing in the world. And, Ginny had to admit, it was. How he'd thought he was going to convince the guy to do that . . .

Her eyes narrowed. “I thought you said you didn't talk to him, didn't know who he was?”

Deke's gaze shifted, and Ginny sighed. “Deke, I swear . . .” She bit her lip to keep anything else from getting out. He might have been a tough guy once, but she'd watched enough noir movies to know how to handle him, she thought. Not threats, the way Seth would, or man-to-man pep talks. He was old school, and an old-school boxer, and that probably meant that he would be uncomfortable saying no to a woman, if she played it right. She might be an only child, but she knew how to work the kid sister thing when she needed to. And she needed to get him on board with her plan.

“C'mon, Deke. I know you don't trust us, not the way
you do Seth, but Seth trusts us. Otherwise he wouldn't have asked for our help. But we need to work together, okay? Keeping secrets is what got you
into
this mess.”

She waited, aware of Shana sitting very still, like she was front row at a play, and Parsifal snoring a little in Deke's lap, tiny puppy snorts.

“I knew how to find someone who would know,” he admitted. “But they wouldn't never have talked to you. He wouldn't even talk to me, and I was convincing.”

“You mean you hit him,” Shana said.

He rubbed the back of his bald head and grimaced. “Yeah.”

“Awesome.”

Ginny was suddenly not so sure that her friend was going to be a good babysitter after all, the way the two of them suddenly grinned at each other.

At her feet, Georgie whined a little, a distressed sound, and shoved against Ginny's legs. “What is it, baby? Too much for you in here? Do you need to go outside and take care of business?”

“She went when we got out of the car,” Deke said.

“Okay, then you just need some quiet time, huh?” She looked at the others. “You two, stay put. I'll be right back.”

As she got up, she scooped Parsifal up off Deke's lap, noticing how the man's hands had instinctively curved to keep the puppy still. There might be hope for those two yet, she thought. “Just to give him a little down time,” she said, trying to be soothing. “Overtired puppies have a tendency to forget their bathroom training.”

That got Deke to let go, fast.

Usually, when Georgie was restless, she'd bring her out front where a “doggie relief station” had evolved next to the bike rack. But this case had her more on edge than normal, especially after Tonica was just parading the dog around in Deke's neighborhood, and she couldn't get the things she'd learned that morning about dogfighting out of her head, no matter how much she tried to distract herself. So instead, she took Georgie through the back door, past the tiny kitchen to the storeroom. There was a sheepskin pad there, and a bowl of water, for days when she and Georgie were here longer than usual. The Princess Pad, Tonica called it. Knowing the manager definitely had perks.

“That better, girl?” She knelt to place Parsifal on the ground and tugged at Georgie's ears, play-shaking the heavy, wrinkled head. “Better?”

Georgie licked her hand once, then settled on the pad with obvious relief, turning several times until everything was just right. Parsifal, meanwhile, was investigating the corners, sniffing at everything with obvious excitement. Ginny checked her phone for the time, and pulled a handful of treats out of her pocket, placing them on the floor next to the pad. “It's still a while until dinnertime, but you've been a good girl, you earned some treats.”

Parsifal, hearing the magic word, came over as well to investigate.

A quiet thump in the shelves overhead told Ginny that Penny had arrived, and sure enough, the little tabby leaped down onto the floor and stalked over to where the dogs were resting.

“I'll just leave you three to it, then,” Ginny said, standing up and smiling down at them.

Penny sat
down in front of Georgie, tail curled around her hindquarters, ears perked forward, ignoring the puppy. “All right. Tell me everything you were able to learn.”

“What?” Georgie looked at her like she'd just asked if the dog could fly.

“When you were out with Theo! What did you learn?” The bits she had been able to catch from the humans' conversation had told her only that the little man was in trouble, that he was getting kicked out of his home, and that they didn't know who was causing it. And that they were worried about something else. Penny had been a good hunter, patiently waiting, but things were moving again and it was time to pounce.

Georgie scratched herself thoughtfully. “We met some people, where the worried man lived. The neighborhood smells nice, like grass and dirt. A little girl scratched my ears. They seemed like nice people.”

Penny kept her tail from thwapping the floor in frustration.“What did they
talk
about, Georgie?”

“Oh.” The dog thought back. She didn't have the best memory in the world—time got messed up in her head, and she couldn't always remember who said what, but she tried, because Penny needed to know.

“They talked about the house. About who went in or out. And what they were carrying. They brought boxes in and out. That was it.”

“And you didn't hear anything else?”

“No. We went to the beach for a while, and he threw a stick for me”— and Georgie could obviously tell Penny wasn't interested in that, so she rushed over it—“and then we went somewhere else, somewhere that smelled of sweat and rubber and blood, and then he made me wait outside with the worried man forever. And then they didn't talk much at all. And then we were back here.” It all came out in a rush, like she was afraid she'd forget something if she stopped.

Then Georgie shook her head, as though something might fall out of her ears if she only knocked them hard enough. “No, wait. He said something, the same thing Herself was talking about while she worked. About bad people, and dogs. Bad dogs? Making them do bad things? And the worried man kept saying it wasn't his fault?”

Penny's tail twitched once in agitation. Georgie wasn't a puppy anymore, but she'd been taken care of for most of her life. She hadn't seen some things that a cat on the street saw. The puppy had been afraid, before good food and petting calmed him down. The smaller older human was still afraid.

She thought about the worried older man, the one their humans were trying to help. He had large hands that had been gentle against her fur, and he smelled slightly of stale fish and newsprint, two smells that made her want to purr instinctively.

He wasn't one of those people, the cruel ones. She'd trust her whiskers on that.

He was losing his home, his den. His safety. She tried to imagine the Busy Place not being there, being blocked off to her, and her claws flexed nervously.

Her humans might not be getting anywhere, but they—she and Georgie—had an advantage the humans didn't. They had Parsifal.

Back at
the bar, Tonica had finished whatever confab he was having with Jon, and joined Ginny, Shana, and Deke at their table. There was no sign of Seth, and Ginny admitted that she was relieved. This was going to be hard enough without the other man trying to butt in, either because Deke was his friend or because he didn't think she—a mere female—was competent, or whatever snit he had in his ear today.

“You kids look like you have things to talk about,” Shana said. “Come on, Deke, let me buy you a beer.”

“But . . .” Deke looked like he was going to dig his heels in. “This is my problem. I can help.”

“I think you've done more than enough today already, Deke,” Tonica said, and his voice wasn't one that encouraged back talk. Deke held his stare for about five seconds, then dropped it, and nodded. Ginny almost felt sorry for Deke. Almost.

She watched them go, Shana putting a hand on Deke's elbow that could have been comforting or house arrest, then shook her head and turned her attention to Tonica. “All right, what happened? Details, this time.”

“Pretty much told you all of it already. Deke decided to go down to a fighter's gym and try to knock something out of one of his buddies. Who, thankfully, didn't want to press charges. Or return fire, since like I said, he was carrying the bruises, and our man Deke wasn't.”

“Christ, he's an idiot,” Ginny said with feeling. “Did you find anything in your neighborhood snoop? Was Georgie useful?”

“We didn't get to actually go in the house—too many people around. But yeah, maybe. Turns out Deke wasn't quite honest with us.”

“Oh, there's a shock.” Ginny shook her head hard enough that a curl fell out of the knot she'd pulled them into that morning. “What do I always tell you, Tonica? Clients
lie
. Even when they think they're being totally up front.”

“Yeah well, like I said before, I'm not convinced he knows what's real and what isn't, entirely.” He reached for a used coaster on the table, turning it in his hands. “To be fair, it's not like he was home all the time, but neighbors said that they saw people going in and out of the house on a semi regular basis. Carrying crates.”

“Crates?”

He glared at her. “Did you even pick up your voice mail? Yeah, crates.”

“Of course I did. But it didn't seem like an emergency situation, and I was kind of busy dealing with other things. Were they like packing crates, or . . .”