You Ain't Nothing But a Hound Dog

Well, they said you was high-classed
Well that was just a lie
Well, you ain't never caught a rabbit
And you ain't no friend of mine

 

“Is that the dog?” Sean asked, peering doubtfully into the cage at the animal control facility.

Amy continued to stare at the animal and didn’t answer.

“Freeman,” Sean nudged her. “Is that Bruiser?”

“I don’t know,” she replied. “It could be. He’s awfully dirty though, and Mrs. Randolph just lost Bruiser this morning.” She turned to the teenage girl standing next to them. “Do you know when this dog was apprehended?”

“Apprehended?” the girl replied, turning her head to one side and twisting one long purple strand of hair. “I don’t know what you mean by apprehended. Youse guys’ll have to ask a vet if the dog’s been fixed or not. I just work here. I don’t know much about the dogs.”

“I guess you’re a cat person, huh?” Sean interrupted. “Do you know when this dog was picked up off the street?”

“Oh, like, it might be on the paperwork somewhere,” she said, favoring Sean with a wide smile.

“Would you mind looking?” Amy snapped, glaring at the girl.

“I’m pretty busy,” she answered with a frown. She started smacking her gum as she eyed Amy. “Maybe you could come back tomorrow. I just mostly clean cages and stuff. Cecilia’s the one who’s kinda like in charge of stuff.”

Sean carefully nudged Amy and stepped forward, giving the teenager a smile. “I’m sorry Zoey … it is Zoey isn’t it?”

“Zola,” she corrected. “Why can’t your girlfriend recognize her own dog?”

“That’s not it exactly,” Sean replied. “Actually, she’s not my girlfriend. We just work together. Our job is to, uh, find lost pets for people. Do you think that you and I could go look at that paperwork, Zola?”

“Oh!” Zola’s attitude brightened considerably. “Sure, um, I’m not exactly sure where the paperwork is, but you can look on Cecilia’s desk. The weekend officers leave the paperwork on her desk.”

“Great!” He hooked a casual arm around Zola’s shoulders and moved towards the office area. “I guess you’re too important around here to mess with the paperwork, huh?”

“Oh, I have to do community service stuff,” she admitted. “It’s part of grad requirements.”

“Wow, we didn’t have to do community service work when I was in college,” Sean answered, looking back over his shoulder and winking at Amy.

Zola giggled. “I’m not in college. It’s for high school. Me and my friends got caught with alcohol at school.”

“Oh? Had some beer at the football game?” he asked, pushing the door open.

“Oh, no. Football is lame. We had vodka in our water bottles. It would have been okay, except Mandy got to drinking more than one bottle of water a day.”

Amy stood and stared, her mouth open and hands on her hips as her partner charmed the sullen teenager into helping them out. “Great,” she muttered, “just great. She cleans cages and bathes dogs and falls for the charm of a guy old enough to be her father!”

She turned back to the dog. Kneeling in front of the cage, she stuck her fingers through the wire openings. “Come here, Bruiser. Come here, boy.” Frowning as the dog sat, unmoving, she once again pulled out the picture of the missing dog, comparing the two of them. “I dunno, mutt,” she spoke through the cage. “Maybe if you turn out to be the wrong dog, I’ll come back and get you for myself.”

She stood and turned to follow Sean and Zola into the office area.

 

 

“Let me get this straight, you’re looking for a dog?”

“Yes,” Sean answered, speaking into his cell phone. “You told us we’d have to work legitimate cases. Mrs. Lydia Randolph on Park Avenue has lost her schnauzer.” He paused for a moment before continuing. “She’s paying the standard rate.”

Trixie sighed as she tossed a sweater into her Luis Vuitton overnight bag, juggling the cordless phone. “I don’t know whether to hope you find it or hope you don’t find it.”

“Why? Do you have something against dogs?”

“Not at all, I like dogs. If you find it, then I’m afraid we’ll get every lost dog case in the city. If you don’t find it, I’m afraid the word will get out we can’t even find a dog.”

“Him, not it. His name is Bruiser.”

“Whatever.” Trixie rolled her eyes as she knelt down to look under her bed for her favorite boots. “Any breakthroughs on ORCHID?”

“No, but we have a couple of questions for you. Is now a good time?”

“No, I’m packing. I’m heading to Sleepyside for dinner tonight.”

“What’s up with that?” he asked.

Trixie noted the surprise in his voice. “Let’s just say the fundraiser tea was beneficial in more ways than one. We are in with Langham Industries.”

“Wow, great job, Boss.”

Trixie snorted. “Yeah. I didn’t do anything special. Turns out we could have been in with them from the very beginning, but that’s another story. Listen, I’ll be back in town no later than lunch tomorrow. Let’s meet at the office at two.”

“I’ll be there. I’m not sure when Freeman’s meeting with the real estate lady, but I’ll pass the information on.”

“Okay, see you then.”

Trixie pressed the button to end the call and glanced around her apartment. She desperately wanted to take her laptop with her, but didn’t want anyone to wonder why she was bringing it for such a quick trip. Besides needing to file a contact report with her boss on Tammy Langham, she had new ideas about fields to add to her database for the project. Nibbling on her lower lip, she mentally debated her options. Finally, she snapped her fingers. “Of course!” she said aloud.

Jamming the remaining garments into her bag, she zipped it close and sat it by the apartment’s front door. She rummaged through her purse, chortling with glee when she located the flash drive Jim had given her for Valentine’s Day. The door buzzer sounded, causing her to jump.

“Yes?” she asked pushing the button, knowing Carlton was going to tell her that Mrs. Wheeler was waiting.

“Grace Wheeler, Ms. Belden. She asked me to let you know they were back and to take your time if you weren’t ready.”

“Tell her I’ll be right down,” Trixie replied. Dashing to her home office, she connected the drive to her computer in seconds. Within two minutes, her files were copied and her BLISS PDA was safely stowed, with the jump drive, in her stylish handbag. With a satisfied smile, she grabbed the overnight case and hurried out of her apartment to join Mrs. Wheeler downstairs.

 

 

“Any ideas on where to check now?” Sean asked as they walked dog-less out of the animal shelter.

“Why? Are you in a hurry to make your hot date with Zola?” Amy smirked as they walked out of the Animal Care Center.

“Please,” Sean rolled his eyes. “You know better. The last thing I need is to hook-up with a vodka-chugging teenager.” He turned and gave a final look at the building. “You’d think they’d have her supervised or something.”

“Normally, they do,” Amy replied. “I checked with the animal handlers and the office manager went home sick. Since there were only a couple of hours left, they thought Zola could handle things.”

“They should be happy that girl doesn’t run a cash register,” he answered. “Any ideas, Freeman? I’d hate for Belden’s agency to get the reputation that she can’t even find a lost dog.”

“Yeah,” she said, holding up her PDA. “I’ve got a lead from the missing pet network. Let’s find the closest Starbucks so I can give them a call.”

“Call first,” he replied. “Then we’ll get the sustenance.”

Amy nodded and quickly made the call.

Sean listened, and it seemed clear that the pet network had located the missing pooch. He paced as he waited for Amy to get the address. “We’ll be there in about thirty minutes, then.”

He turned and looked at her in surprise. “Are they that close?” he wondered.

“Nope, all the way on the south end of the park, on 56^th street.”

“That’s over fifty blocks!” he groaned.

“And a fifteen minute subway ride,” she said. “Come on, we can still grab a Starbucks. There’s one right by the station. If we hurry, we’ll make Mrs. Randolph’s deadline.”

 

 

“What do you mean you need to cancel dinner?” Charlie had worked most of his Saturday on an approach to close the Graham deal for Connors, Ford, and Newman. He had hoped to get the deal signed, sealed, and delivered that evening at dinner. When he returned to his apartment, there was just enough time to unwind for a few minutes before he’d have to shower and change to meet the potential clients. “You know we’re having dinner with the Grahams.”

Mitsy sighed. “I know, Charlie. But there are some things that need to be said to my father.”

Charlie pinched the bridge of his nose to ward off a terrific headache that had been brewing most of the afternoon. “You can’t wait until after dinner to say those things?

“Charlie, you don’t understand. I’ve had a horrific afternoon with Mummy. All she did was nag me about, well, about everything!” Mitsy’s voice changed in a near-perfect imitation of her mother. “How much did those shoes cost? Where are you living? You know how we feel about couples living together without benefit of matrimony. When were you going to tell us you quit your job? Why haven’t you been to see us? Why are you avoiding Beatrix?” Mitsy shook her head sadly and resumed her normal voice. “It’s just too much.”

“Melissa Paige Thornhill! Do you mean to tell me that you haven’t talked to your parents about quitting your job?”

Mitsy flushed and looked down at her feet. “No.”

“Why?”

The silence hung heavy in the air. Charlie stood with his arms crossed and stared at his girlfriend.

“Are you ashamed of me?” Mitsy finally asked, choking the words out.

“Of course not,” he replied in an even tone. “But I would appreciate an honest answer to my question. Why?”

“Because I’m afraid if Daddy tries to talk me out of it, then I’ll give in.”

Charlie stared. “I thought you gave your word to Margaret Gaitley that you wouldn’t accept any counter-offers to stay at Control & Venture.”

“I did,” she replied, nodding her head in the affirmative.

“So your father has enough influence over you that you would break your word?”

“Yes,” she answered. “It sounds terrible, but it’s true.”

“And it doesn’t bother you that you’re putting me in a tough position tonight with John Graham and his wife?”

“You can find someone else to go with you, Charlie,” she pleaded. “John doesn’t have any idea about us being together. It won’t matter.”

Charlie stood and fingered the small jewel case in his pocket, wondering if he had just been prevented from making the biggest mistake of his life. “Do remember the dinner with Howard Babst?”

“Of course.” Mitsy frowned.

“Did you know that your suggestion on the S-Corporation was used?”

“Yes. You thanked me, remember.”

“Do you remember talking to Pam Babst about her work with NYC Neighbors ?”

“Of course, Charlie! What’s the point of this?” Mitsy shifted her weight from one bare foot to the next, her impatience growing at Charlie’s line of questioning.

“Howard Babst and John Graham both serve on the board of directors for NYC Neighbors. They know each other and respect each other. Of course, John knows we’re together. Do you think I hide our relationship from my colleagues and associates?”

“Oh!” Mitsy dropped into a chair, clearly deflated. She looked up and tentatively suggested, “You could explain that I’m ill or had a family emergency or something. I mean it is a family emergency of sorts.” Her voice trailed off, and a strained silence filled the apartment building until Charlie shook his head.

“Yes, I could. But I’m not going too.” Rubbing a finger along his nose, he continued. “Listen, Mitsy. You might as well go on home and have your little talk with Daddy and Mummy. I’ll find someone to fill in for you.”

“Oh, Charlie!” She jumped up and crossed to him. “Thank you! I just knew you’d understand.” She threw her arms around him and hugged him, not stopping until she realized he was not returning her display of affection. She stepped back and looked up at him in question.

“I don’t understand at all,” he replied. “But I do know this. You’re not the girl I thought you were. You need to go home and stay there until you can get your priorities straight.”

“What are you saying, Charlie?” she asked, bewildered.

“I’m saying – don’t come back here tonight expecting to stay with me.”

 

 

“Tammy wondered why I was introducing you as Beatrix to everyone at today’s tea,” Grace remarked. “I have to admit; I was a bit surprised you’re using that name. You certainly seemed to despise it when you were a teenager.”

“I was lucky. When I met my first partner, I told him he could call me Trixie. He laughed for a good ten minutes before he could finally explain to me that was the last thing a federal agent should ever be called.”

“Why is that lucky?” Grace asked.

“Because it quickly became apparent that there are a lot worse names than Trixie,” she laughed. “Another agent named Bambi learned the hard way. Her partner wasn’t like mine. Normally, all the agents were called by their last name. But when necessary, at work, I was Beatrix. So now, when I’m working – it simplifies things to go by Beatrix. When it’s friends, then it’s just Trixie.”

“I’ve noticed that Mitsy Thornhill calls you Beatrix,” Grace said.

Trixie bit her lip and said nothing.

“I’m sorry if I’m intruding dear, but Tammy and I overheard the strangest conversation. Apparently, Mitsy is avoiding you and her father, it sounds like something to do with her leaving her job. Do you know anything about it?”

Trixie frowned. “Kitty told us, Di and me, that Mitsy quit her job at Control & Venture and was going to work for Kingston Technology.”

“Aaahhh …. Now that explains that. But why is Mitsy avoiding you?”

Trixie chewed her lip. “I think she feels guilty. Her boss, well, he pretty much fired me for the work I did for her division. She knew he was out of line, but she didn’t stand up for her decision to hire me. It was awkward, but nothing more. After all, he was her boss. He’s not going to fire the daughter of the owner.”

“No, that’s not very likely,” Grace agreed. She mulled over the information Trixie had shared. “It can be a problem sometimes in a family business though.”

“What do you mean?”

“Not all family members are suited for working in the business. It seems odd that Bitsy told her daughter to quit avoiding her father. Do you suppose your firing may have initiated a bit of a rift between Mitsy and her father?”

“Oh no!” Trixie protested. “I don’t see how. Mitsy has never played the Dad card – at least not as far as I can see. In fact, she’s almost over-zealous in her efforts to be treated like everyone else.”

“Apparently there’s a problem somewhere,” Grace replied. She waited a few moments before changing the subject. “What did you and Diana have to talk about?” she asked.

“Just this and that, catching up with each other.” Trixie twirled an errant curl with her finger. “Kitty gave us the big gossip about Mitsy. That was most of it.”

The older woman didn’t say anything more for the space of a few breaths, and Trixie congratulated herself on deflecting her curiosity. It was then that Grace Wheeler, the queen of tact, dropped her bombshell.

“I’m really surprised Di didn’t ask you about the rumors flying around about you being engaged to Jim.”