“About ten pounds.” I slowed down a bit so he could keep up.
“Good.”
At the back door, deep ferocious barking greeted us from inside.
“I thought you said he was little,” Tom said. He hung back a good ten feet and held his open notebook just below his waist.
“He is. He just sounds big.”
I opened the door to see Bear barking wildly; he finally calmed down enough to notice he recognized me. He wagged his tail and leapt straight into the air. Andrews approached to watch the antics.
“Hi there, Bear,” he said. He bent forward to pet the dog.
“Don’t—”
But it was too late. Bear peed all over the mudroom floor. I quickly grabbed the dog to keep his feet from getting wet, snapped his leash on him, and handed it to Andrews.
“Submissive urination. He’s letting you know you’re the boss.”
“Sorry.”
“It’s not your fault. Aunt Vi’s been working with him for months. She’s trying to get to the bottom of it but claims he’s not much of a talker.”
“He’s one of your aunt’s clients?”
Bear hopped on his hind legs to get closer to Tom.
“They all are. That’s how I got this crazy job. I happen to be good with animals—most of them, anyway. She had a list of clients who needed extra attention during the day.” I quickly stepped into the kitchen and rummaged in a cabinet for paper towels.
“And what’s Bonnie’s problem? Assault?”
“No, she keeps escaping from her yard and stealing things. She brings them home and hides them.”
I cleaned up Bear’s mess while Tom walked him, and they returned a few minutes later happily bonded.
“I think he likes you,” I said to Tom.
“Well, he’s easier to like than that poodle.” Tom grinned down at Bear, who seemed to smile back.
“Isn’t this a sight? Crystal Haven’s newest officer out walking froufrou dogs on the taxpayer’s dollar,” Mac said as he walked up the driveway, leaning lightly on his cane.
“Detective McKenzie. I was just . . . helping . . . the witness,” Andrews said, and handed the leash to me.
He stood at attention, and I think he started a salute before he caught himself.
“They need you back at the station,” Mac said. “I’ll help the witness, if she needs help.” Mac glanced from me to Bear and smiled at the dog.
“Yes, sir,” Tom scuttled away in the direction of the police station.
I wished for a moment I could go with him. After the way things had gone that morning, being alone with Mac was not high on my list.
“Corrupting young minds now, Clyde?”
“Give me a break. I’ve known Tom forever,” I said. I had put Bear back in the house and locked the door on his barking. “We were just catching up. You could be nicer to him.”
“No one ever caught a murderer by being nice.”
I scowled at him. “Well, I have work to do, and you’ve found your officer. I’ll see you around,” I said and started to walk away.
Mac followed at my heels. Even with that cane he could move pretty fast. He grabbed my hand to stop me. It brought back all the memories I thought I had buried. There was a time when I couldn’t have imagined my life without Mac. I still didn’t understand what had happened between us, but I had thought I was over him. Maybe I was wrong.
“I was looking for you, Clyde,” he said so softly that I turned to look at him.
“Why?” The word came out clipped, angry. I was furious with myself for letting Mac get to me, again.
“I need your help.”
This was new. Mac never wanted help. I hoped he hadn’t changed his feelings about psychic powers. I had had enough requests for psychic intervention already.
“I don’t know how I can possibly help you,” I said, but I was already imagining spending time with him, poring over the evidence, bouncing ideas around, figuring out how the clues fit into the puzzle, and, finally, identifying the guilty party.
“I need you to talk to your sister for me. I meant to ask you when you were at the station . . .”
My fantasy came to a sudden halt.
“What?” I felt a little dizzy. I would have grabbed him for support, but that would have made it worse.
“I thought you’d want to fill her in on how her son discovered a dead body.” He looked away, unwilling to meet my eyes. “And then I need you to let me do my job.”
In other words, stay out of it. He hadn’t forgotten or forgiven me. My eyes burned, and I opened my mouth but no words came out
“Clyde, I’m sorry, I—”
“No problem,” I interrupted, wanting to get away. “I’ll take care of it, Mac.” I turned and walked down the sidewalk and didn’t wipe my eyes until I was sure he couldn’t see me.
*