“So if you’re so good at what you do, then why do you need a guard dog is what I’m wondering.”
“Um…”
I smiled, for Rambo had performed the ultimate feat: he’d managed to shut Harriet up. I’d never managed this myself, so it was with a certain measure of admiration that I regarded the big old dog now.
“Look, this killer took us by surprise, all right?” said Harriet, never one to be stumped for long. “The last thing you suspect is for a cat killer to show up in your own home, and grab you before you know what’s happening.”
“You have to remain vigilant, Harriet,” said Rambo, speaking like one who knows. “If there’s one thing I’ve learned from all my years on the force it’s that you can never let your guard down, no matter what.”
“Do you ever let your guard down?” I asked.
“Me? Never! I mean, you probably think I’m some lumbering, drooling, smelly has-been, right?”
“Oh, no,” I said, though that was exactly what I’d been thinking.
“Wrong! I’m always alert. Always looking, always listening,” he said, as his eyes swiveled this way and that. “That’s why I’m so good at what I do. You never see me coming.”
I could definitely smell him coming, though.
“The bad guys underestimate me, and that’s my secret weapon. They laugh at me—oh, look at that stupid mutt. Ha ha ha. And BOOM! I pounce and that’s the end of them.”
“Good for you,” I said without much conviction. Talk is cheap, after all, and this big dog could most certainly talk.
He suddenly cut his eyes to me, and said, “I see a lot of me in you, Max.”
“Oh?” I said, surprised.
“Yeah, you’re also fat, out of shape, ugly… a mouth-breather. But underneath all that flab and blubber beats the heart of a true warrior.”
I didn’t know whether to be pleased or annoyed. It’s always tough when they wrap the compliments in a thick layer of insults. “Um, thanks, I guess,” I said.
“Or you, Dooley. You look like a weakling. A dumbass. But you’re a lot smarter than you look, am I right?”
“I… think so?” said Dooley uncertainly.
“Or look at Brutus. Underneath all that bluster and posturing lurks a sly dog. And then there’s Harriet, of course. She may look like a drama queen, a prissy princess, a gigglepuss, but she’s smart as a whip, aren’t you?”
“Uh-huh?” said Harriet with a frown.
“So yeah, I guess we make a great team, just like you said,” he said with a yawn, then placed his head on his front paws and closed his eyes. And soon he was snoring away again, making the air tremble with the volume of his snores.
“Do you think he’s asleep, Max?” asked Dooley.
“I think there’s a good chance of that, Dooley,” I said.
“But he said he’s always vigilant, always alert—sees all, hears all, knows all…”
I waved a hand in front of the dog’s closed eyes, then poked him in the squishy nose.
“Nope,” I said. “He’s definitely fast asle—”
“Gotcha!” suddenly roared Rambo, and placed his big paw on top of my head!
“Aaargh!” I screamed, much surprised.
And then he burst into a booming laugh, and soon Harriet, Brutus and Dooley were all laughing along.
“The look on your face, Max!” Harriet squealed. “Priceless!”
“Yeah, you should have seen yourself, Max!” said Brutus. “You looked absolutely terrified!”
“He is always alert, Max!” said Dooley. “Amazing, Mr. Rambo.”
“Thanks, Dooley. Just a small demonstration of my secret power. And now I’m going to take a nap for real. If this cat killer shows his ugly face, wake me up, all right?”
And then he went right back to snoring like a lumberjack. And this time I wasn’t going anywhere near him. Once bitten and all that.
And when half an hour later Odelia rounded the bungalow to fetch us, we were still sitting motionless, while our guard dog was sleeping the sleep of the dead.
So much for unwavering vigilance…
Chapter 27
When Odelia saw her four cats, guarded by a dog that was fast asleep, the sight didn’t do much to quell her fears for their safety. She’d known that her uncle wouldn’t be able to supply her with the best dog the K9 unit had to offer, but this Rambo wasn’t exactly what she’d had in mind when she’d asked for a guard dog.
Then again, she couldn’t very well ask Chase to keep an eye on them all the time. So it was imperative that whoever had attacked them at home was found and found fast.
So when she was back in her car, and had buckled her seatbelt, she called her uncle.
“Hey, Uncle Alec,” she said. “I was just calling in for an update on this cat killer?”
“Nothing new, honey,” said her uncle. “I have some of my people asking around, but whoever this guy was, he was careful not to be seen entering or leaving the house.”
“Okay… So maybe fingerprints? Anything?”
“Nothing so far. Why? Aren’t your cats happy with their new friend?”
“Not exactly,” she said, though she didn’t want to say more, for Rambo was in the back of the car, and he definitely wasn’t sleeping now.
“Don’t let his appearance deceive you,” said her uncle. “He’s one of the best we’ve got. Or at least he used to be when he was a full-fledged member of the team. He may be retired now, but I’m sure he’s still got that killer instinct you want to see in a guard dog.”
She glanced back, and saw that Rambo had placed his voluminous head on the top of the backseat, slobbering all over the upholstery. He was certainly killing her car.
“So did you get anything from this guy Jerry Pollard?”
“Maybe.” And she told her uncle about the builder who’d run away.
“Interesting,” he said. “Maybe I’ll run it by Charlene. She might remember something. She and her uncle had a good connection.”
“I’ll try to find out where he lives, and see if I can’t track him down,” she said.
“You do that, honey. Um…”
“What is it?”
“I’m running a check on Dudley. I took a strand of his hair and one from your dad.”
“You want to see if he’s really Dad’s son.”
“Yup. According to Marge your dad is really taken in with the kid. She’s not so sure, though.”
“He seems nice enough.”
“Yeah, I know, but I guess Marge feels it pays to be careful. After all, what do we know about him? Nothing.”
“No, sure. But I think the DNA test will come back a positive match. He even looks like Dad—minus the ears.”
“Yeah, well, I’m of the same opinion as my sister. You can never be too careful these days. Oh, and did you know about the plot of land your mom and dad own and that now may be worth a great deal of money?”
“What?”
“Ask your mom. She’ll tell you all about it.” And with a light chuckle, he disconnected.
“Plot of land?” she said, staring before her.
“What’s going on?” asked Max.
“It looks like my parents are going to be rich,” she said. “And my uncle is running a DNA test on Dudley, to see if he really is who he says he is.”
“Very prudent,” growled Rambo. “You can’t trust anyone these days. The world is full of cheaters and swindlers and thieves and con artists. Not to mention murderers, backstabbers and other scum of the earth.”
And on that cheerful note, he put down his head again.
Odelia started the engine and drove off, in search of this mysterious young man who’d joined then left Frank Butterwick’s company.
It didn’t take her long to find out where he lived: she simply asked around in the neighborhood Jerry Pollard had indicated. When she showed up on his doorstep, though, he didn’t answer the bell, and when she knocked on the door, no one came.
His next-door-neighbor, who was pruning her hedge, saw her peeking in through the window, and announced, “That won’t do you any good, honey. He moved out last month.”
“Where to?” she asked.