At first my parents had thought my recitations of “what the doggy said” adorable. As time went on and those recitations had expanded to include every animal I met, with a bizarre measure of accuracy, they got a little spooked.
As it wouldn’t do for the local GP to know their little girl was a fruitcake, they took me to a pediatrician in Minneapolis. The fancy city doctor told them to ignore my stories. Without attention for the behavior the behavior would eventually go away.
It hadn’t, but I had stopped sharing. Even at the age of six, no one wants to be weird.
Chief Deb’s cruiser shot out of the trees like the DeLorean in Back to the Future shot out of … the future. Considering what I’d found here, I couldn’t blame Deb’s need for speed.
She threw the car into park when it was still moving, the gears grinding so loudly that Reggie growled.
Owen jumped; I thought he might fall off the porch, then he had to steady himself with a hand on the broken railing, which shimmied, and then so did he. Something tickled my brain, and I stared at him so long he noticed.
Instead of making a sarcastic comment, or even sticking out his tongue like he would have when we were kids, he glanced away, and that just made the tickle tickle even more.
Chief Deb vaulted from the car, nearly catching her hip as she slammed the door. “Where are they?”
Reggie scrambled in front of her. The back off in his head came out of his mouth as grrr.
Deb frowned at the dog as if she hadn’t noticed him until that moment. Though he wasn’t that large a dog, Reggie was still kind of hard to miss.
She tried to move around him; he sidestepped; another warning rumbled free. Deb’s eyes narrowed. “Am I gonna have to shoot you?”
His lip lifted, and the rumble became a snarl.
“Becca, call off your dog.”
I’d always picked up strays. Folks didn’t know from one day to the next how many animals and of what variety might belong to me—until I managed to foist them off on someone else. Right now, though, I didn’t have any. I was sure it wouldn’t last.
I pointed at Owen. Deb’s eyes widened. She hadn’t noticed him either. In her defense, he was hovering at the edge of the porch, just out of the moonlight’s reach, and she’d no doubt been distracted by the oddest case to land in Three Harbors since the glacier came through.
“Owen?” She looked him up and down.
He was a whole lot bigger. It was no wonder I hadn’t recognized him earlier when he’d been fooling around in the dark with a shovel.
“What are you doing here?” Deb continued.
“My house.”
“And the dead animals?”
He leaned against the wall, crossed his arms, and his biceps expanded more. I thought Deb was going to drool.
“Not mine.”
Deb stared for so long, I finally poked her in the back. She jumped. The movement made Reggie growl again. “Get him outta my way.”
“Reggie, hier.”
After another glance at the chief, the dog took the steps with a hitch in his stride I hadn’t noticed before and didn’t much like.
“Is he named after Reggie White?” Deb’s voice lifted on the sainted name.
Like every other person in town, she counted the days between Sundays. I wouldn’t be surprised if she wore a green and gold T-shirt under her uniform. She wouldn’t be the only one. In Wisconsin, especially in small towns like these, the Packers were more of a religion than a football team.
“I didn’t name him,” Owen said. “But he does have a helluva pass rush.”
Reggie snorted. Had he understood that? Doubtful. Though most dogs knew a lot more words than anyone gave them credit for, pass rush probably weren’t two of them.
“Shall we?” The chief indicated the house.
I wanted to ask about Reggie’s limp, but Owen waved us on. “You two go ahead. I’ll make sure he stays here.”
I thought Reggie would stay anywhere Owen put him for as long as he put him there, but I didn’t comment. As Deb was shifting back and forth so fast she was either beyond impatient or really needed the bathroom, I made a mental note to discuss the dog’s health, or lack of it, later.
I did wonder for an instant why Owen didn’t want to join us. Perhaps he’d been in too many caves to stomach being inside anywhere for very long. Or maybe the smell of death didn’t agree with him. Did it agree with anyone?
Chief Deb gagged as soon as she went in. Considering most of the windows in the place were broken, you’d think the smoky-meat smell would be gone. You’d be wrong.
Deb paused in the entryway of the living room. “You didn’t tell me about that.”
“I said I’d found the animals.” I’d been hovering in the hall, not wild about going back in there either. Now I joined her, and I saw what she meant.
The lantern, which had previously resided just inside the room and thrown a muted glow over the table—the less light on that the better—now sat on the mantel, perfectly illuminating a five-pointed star etched on the wall.
*
Owen waited until the two women disappeared into the living room. Their attention captured there, he ordered Reggie to stay with the German command, “Bly’b,” then followed.