“I don’t think she ever wore the sweater,” I said.
“It still had the tag on it.” Corinne peered closely at the sweater.
“I’ll bet you pulled the tag off and took it,” I said. “What else have you helped yourself to? Maybe I should call her Aunt Susie. Maybe I should call the police. I’ll bet that’s theft. Stealing a dead girl’s stuff. That’s low.”
Ruth wrenched open the door. “Get out.”
There were bright spots of color on both her cheeks. This was kind of fun.
“I’m not leaving until you tell me what you did with the dog. Where’s Billy?”
Ruth started to look frightened. “I told you. I don’t have the dog. I took him to the pound over on Lexington.”
Corinne burst into noisy sobs.
Ruth gave me a shove. I stumbled backward and she slammed the door. “Go away!”
“You’d better hope he’s okay.” I lowered my voice to a whisper. “Come on, Corinne, it’s okay. We’ll get him. They keep animals for three days, I think.” That sounded right. I had heard that somewhere. Corinne cried harder. I looked around to see if people were staring, but it was too cold. Everyone had heads down rushing along. “Let’s go back to the DART station. After work, I’ll get Billy.”
On a map, Dallas Area Rapid Transit, or DART, looks like an octopus with the main body of the beast being in the city proper. Several legs run up through the park cities and farther north, up the technological corridor, all the way to Plano and Carrollton. I can get almost every place I need by train or bus.
“But it’s Wednesday and I died on Monday. We have to go now, before it’s too late.”
I gritted my teeth and called Cruella de Vil. Of course, my boss is really named Ginger Deville of Smithson, Parker, and Deville, but Cruella suits her. I’m sure she would club puppies if it helped her relieve stress. I trudged toward the station with cellphone at ear, prepared for the groveling.
Joy of joys, Cruella’s voice mail picked up, and I tried to spit it all out before a live human could pick up. “Hi, it’s me. Portia. Listen, I have to take care of something really, really super important this morning. I am coming back to work today, and I’ll work through lunch and stay late until my desk is clear, but I have to do this and I appreciate your understanding so–”
“Portia?” I winced as Ginger’s crisp voice answered. Should have hung up quicker. “I thought you said you were coming back today.”
“I did. I am. I just have to take care of something.” Or be stalked for eternity.
“What could be more important than your job?”
“I...uh...” Here I had thought my lying skills were improving. “I have to see the doctor one more time. And pick up some...medicine. Yes, I need to pick something up. That’s exactly what I’m doing.” That part wasn’t a lie. I was picking up a dog, and getting rid of my ghostly roommate would be the best medicine ever.
“You said the doctor had cleared you to work. I need you here, Portia. I can’t run around short-staffed. Where is the demand letter for the Butcher case? And my schedule? It hasn’t been updated in days. I hardly know where I’m supposed to be when. If I miss a court setting because I wasn’t properly notified...” She let the implied threat hang there.
“I’ll get everything caught up. I’ll have the letter on your desk by lunch, and I’ll get all your things typed and the schedule updated before I leave today. Promise.”
She sighed heavily, implying the huge sacrifice on her part for having a slothful secretary who had managed to get hurt. “Get here as quickly as possible.” Click.
That was it. Not even a How’s your head? Four years ought to warrant a card at the least.
* * * *
To get to Lexington, I rode the red leg into the hub and switched to the blue one. It was inconvenient and time-consuming, but the distance was much too far to walk.
I tried to ignore Corinne on the train. She hovered close by, but there was no way I would talk to her and get myself hauled off by security.
The train jostled to a stop at the terminal nearest the Lexington address I had gotten from information. As soon as I departed the train, Corinne was yammering again. I ignored her until I reached the pound. Then I realized that I had no idea what Billy looked like.
“So what kind of dog am I looking for?”
“Billy’s a pug.”
“Those are little dogs, right?”
“Oh yes, he’s a big dog in a little body. He’s got the most expressive eyes and a beautiful smile.” I rolled my eyes to express disgust at anyone who described her dog’s smile.
The smell inside the ugly concrete structure was two parts antiseptic and one part nervous animal. A woman in a green shirt that said Animal Control looked up.
“Help you?”
“I’m looking for a dog.”
Her expression brightened. “Any special type of dog? We have lots of animals here for adoption. Oh. Or did you lose a dog?”
I thought for a moment. “I have a friend who lost a dog.”
“He would have to claim it himself.”
“That could be a problem. Does it cost money?”
“There is a fee and of course the boarding costs since we’ve housed the animal for him. And if he can’t provide proof of vaccination, he’ll have to pay for those, too, before we release the animal.”
She looked at me shrewdly. “If you were interested in adopting a dog, you could adopt one for as little as fifty dollars.”
Crap, that was expensive. Still, I got what she was saying. It’s cheaper to adopt back your own dog than bail him out. “That’s very reasonable.”
She smiled broadly. “Let me show you the dogs. We have so many animals here in need.”
“I’m looking for a little dog. One that could live in an apartment.”
I followed her back through heavy doors that made me think of a jail. “The dogs are this way. We house the cats separately.”
“I’m sure they appreciate that.”
As she led me back into the kennels, the nervous animal smell grew stronger. I tried not to wrinkle my nose. And the noise. Dear heaven, the noise when she opened the door. Dogs of all shapes and sizes barked and yelped. Their howls echoed off the walls of the concrete bunker.
Once inside, I could see it really was a jail, a doggy jail. The inmates all rushed the bars, clamoring to be taken out. I’ve never seen so many dogs in one place. Corinne floated off past me, flitting anxiously about. “Billy? Mommy’s here. Billy?”
“Take a look around,” said the animal control gal loudly over the din. “See if anyone takes your fancy. We’ve got an adoption room, where you can spend a little time with any dog you might be interested in.”
“I don’t see him,” Corinne said.
“Are there any more dogs?”
The woman looked at me like I was crazy. How could anyone want more dogs than this? “Maybe in the infirmary. But those dogs aren’t available. We don’t adopt out sick animals.”
“I really want a small dog.”
“You and everybody else.” She walked past cages of large, shaggy creatures, down to the end of the row. “We’ve got a couple of dachshunds. And a little