Lost & Found (14 page)

The first thing they noticed was the green Dumpster in the driveway. The supersized kind, the ones that people use when they are going to gut an entire house to remodel. Two pickup trucks were parked in the street, both with ladders sticking out the back ends and silver toolboxes that took up half of the bed.

“What should we do with Cooper? He already knows we’re back in his hometown and apparently in front of his former house. We can’t do this to him, it would be too upsetting,” said Tess.

Cooper stood up in the backseat and began to pant.

“Don’t stop. Drive a couple of blocks away and let me out. I’m going to talk to the carpenters. Just drive around for a while. Maybe there’s a park near the college where you can walk him,” said Rocky.

Tess pulled to the curb several blocks from the house and Rocky quickly slipped out. Cooper made a dive for the front seat. Tess grabbed his collar.

“I’ll be back at this corner in thirty minutes,” said Tess.

Rocky jogged back to the house with the Dumpster. It was a
white bungalow from the 1940s, a solid house with an inviting porch, two dormers on the second story. The rest of the houses on the block looked similar, and Rocky figured the houses were all built around the same time. She heard the shrill whine of a Skil saw from the house. As she passed the Dumpster, she noticed a couch sticking up and old paneling and kitchen linoleum that had been ripped out.

She knocked at the open door, although she doubted anyone could hear her above the racket. She stepped inside and headed for the source of the noise. A blond-haired man with a flannel shirt hollered to someone, “All these cabinets got to come out. That Dumpster is leaving in two days, get the lead out!”

“Excuse me,” said Rocky.

The carpenter whirled around. “Hey, I didn’t know anyone was there. I don’t suppose you brought us hot coffee and a late lunch?” he asked.

He was built low to the ground, thick arms and legs. His boots had a stout two-inch heel and Rocky suspected that without them, she would be taller than he was.

“Sorry, I’m not the lunch lady. I have possession of the last owner’s dog. I’m the Animal Control Warden from Peak’s Island. Elizabeth Townsend owned this house, didn’t she?”

“She used to. Then she sold it, and she must have rented it from the new owners for a couple months. People do that a lot if they need extra financing time on the other end of things. So what can I help you with?” He held a small, claw-headed crowbar in his right hand.

“I’m not sure. Her dog is in my care and I need to place him in the best home. Her parents are meeting me tomorrow to get the dog, but I don’t have a really great feeling about
them. Did you find anything, I don’t know, that stands out to you?” Rocky knew this sounded too vague.

“All I can tell you is that she killed herself and unfortunately, she wasn’t found for close to a month,” he said. “After the police left, a crew that specializes in that kind of thing had to come in. They’re the ones who clean up after a messy death. That was news to me, cleaning crews who specialize in homicides and suicides. How would you like that for your job? Anyhow, then the parents came up here and took a couple of things, pictures I think, that’s what the present owners said, then we were hired to gut this place. They’re thinking of selling it. No one wants to live in a house where someone committed suicide,” he said.

“Did you know her?” asked Rocky.

“No. I heard she was a university type. Hung out there, taking classes. We have to finish emptying out this place; you got anything in particular that you’re looking for? I can’t see how I can help you.”

“Could I just look around the house?”

“For what? We’re down to the walls and floors upstairs. We only have the main floor left for demolition. What did you say that you did?”

“Animal Control Warden. When you were throwing stuff out, did you find anything that made you stop? Anything that had to do with a dog?” Rocky said.

“Nothing about a dog. I did save something, though. She had sawed right through a bow-and-arrow rig. Nice too. Didn’t know what it was at first, then I started putting it together like a puzzle. She sawed it all up into pieces about three inches long and stacked it in neat little piles right on the kitchen table. But I already gave that to her old boy
friend. He came around the other day and I figured it meant something to him. Couldn’t hurt to give it to him. He looked pretty broken up.”

She remembered the man at the convenience store parking lot in Portland, the one who sent Cooper into a fit just by getting out of his truck. She remembered his strut and the way he had slammed the door on his SUV with enough energy to rock the vehicle.

“Did he say anything else?” she asked.

“No, just that he had lived here for a while during the summer, and they split up,” he said.

“What was he driving?” asked Rocky.

“Some kind of dark rig. It was almost quitting time when he got here, too dark to really see what it was,” he said.

When it looked like there was nothing left that the carpenter wanted to say to Rocky about the state of the house or any visitors, she asked if she could look through the downstairs rooms. He had already told her that everything had been stripped from the upstairs.

“Don’t fall down and hurt yourself,” he said.

Rocky caught the sudden tone, the inflection, that he had been unable to contain, a way of being with a woman that he had learned way back in high school that might have worked for him then but now looked like a sweater that no longer fit.

“I won’t be long,” she said. She was positive that he watched her butt as she walked out of the kitchen.

She went into the small dining room and living room, the bathroom, toilet and sink only, and she felt the brakes go on in her head. She looked again in the dining room with the six-over-six wood casement windows. Out in the backyard
were bales of hay stacked with the archer’s target. Of course there was a target, no secret there. But something was familiar, something pulled at her and she used the edge of her jacket to wipe at the dirt on the windowpane. Sawdust and explosions of dust had been created by days of demolition. She peered out, trying to understand what it was she saw.

“Jesus Christ!” yelled the carpenter from the kitchen. Over his voice a clatter of claws burst from the kitchen when the carpenter had dropped his crowbar. Rocky tore her face from the window. She heard the man scuffle more and curse as she headed for the commotion.

“Hey, hold up there. Is this your dog?” he asked.

Cooper careened into the dining room and when he saw Rocky he pulled his lips back in an anxious smile, lowered his head slightly, and wagged his entire back end furiously.

“Lloyd, Cooper, how did you find me?”

The dog whined in discomfort, as if his bad leg had suddenly gotten worse. But Rocky knew it was the house filled with smells of Liz and the terrible smell of death that would be exploding in his nostrils like fireworks. More footsteps, heavy breathing, and another blast of cold air. Tess entered, breathless from running. She quickly put her hands on her knees and bent over to take in as much air as she could.

“I’m too old for this,” she said as she nodded to the man in the kitchen. “I took him over to the college and as soon as I let him out, he bolted. I knew where he was going.”

“I’m sorry to interrupt, but we now have a small crowd, which is never a good thing with demolition work,” he said. He looked at Rocky. “Are you done?”

“Done,” she said. “Come on. Cooper.” The three of them headed back out the door. When they reached the sidewalk,
the dog stopped and did an about-face. Before Rocky could grab his collar, he ran to the backyard and quickly rounded the corner, barking an alarm. Tess put her hand on Rocky’s arm. He circled again

“Let him go. He’s getting something out of his system.”

After his third time circling the house, Cooper stopped at the cross of the sidewalk and the path to the house. He looked expectantly at the two women.

“We’re coming,” said Tess.

He led them back to Tess’s car. When he got in the backseat, he put his head on his paws that were folded in front of him and closed his eyes.

The first snowflakes began to fall. By the time they arrived back in Portland, they had driven six hours through a blizzard, which had turned to icy cold rain as they neared the coast. They took the 8:30 ferry back to the island. When Rocky collapsed in bed, the last thing she heard was the deep sigh of Cooper.

Isaiah’s truck pulled up to the cottage midmorning. He was closely followed by a beige sedan. Rocky watched from her kitchen window. A man and a woman, both fiftyish, climbed stiffly out of their car. They were heavy, solidly shaped and did not look like physical movement was easy. These people would never walk him; they didn’t walk themselves. Rocky suddenly realized that she should have kept driving to Canada with Cooper. They could be happy in a small border town or perhaps outside Quebec City. The threesome climbed the few steps to her deck. Before they could knock, Rocky opened the door. She had told Tess to stay home and sleep; the older woman had looked unusually exhausted when they returned, and she was leaving later in the day to spend the holidays with her family.

She locked eyes with Isaiah in desperation. It was possible that she could appeal to a wild streak in him and he would use his authority to send this couple packing and Cooper could stay with her. But he gave her a stern, resolved look. He held open the door for the Townsends. Rocky noticed
that his hand on the doorknob had the slightest quiver, his knuckles pressing light points against his dark skin.

“There he is, there’s the good boy,” said the man.

Cooper gave a polite show of interest. He rose and sniffed the man’s hand.

“You remember me boy, don’t you?” he said.

“Rocky, this is Ed and Jan Townsend. This is our Animal Control Warden who saved Cooper and has been taking care of him for the past month or so.”

“I’m sorry about your daughter,” said Rocky. She remembered to say this when she saw the familiar grip of grief in the man’s eyes. Jan looked more complicated; her lips were pressed together in ancient anger and Rocky suspected that the strong aroma of cigarette smoke came from her. Her husky voice confirmed it.

“Thank you for taking care of the dog. It hasn’t been easy closing an estate with someone like Liz. We’ve had to take care of a lot things that Liz tried to destroy,” said Jan.

Rocky knew that the relationship between mother and daughter had been ruptured by Liz’s disorder, but she had expected death to soften her. Rocky was jolted by the anger that washed over the woman.

“Do you mean Cooper’s injury? No, no. I’m sure that Liz didn’t harm Cooper, if that’s what you mean. I was just up in Orono yesterday and spoke to a friend and the vet who took care of him. Liz loved this dog—” said Rocky.

“You don’t understand,” said Jan. “Our daughter was very sick. She had a bipolar disorder. Manic depressive. You don’t know what we have gone through with her since she was first diagnosed when she was nineteen years old. Hospitalizations,
calls at three
A.M
., our credit cards maxed out,” said Jan. Neither one of them moved to take off their coats.

“When was the last time you spoke with your daughter?” asked Rocky.

Jan had not made one move to the dog even when Cooper sniffed her shoes. When he attempted to sniff her crotch, she pushed him away.

“I don’t see the point in this, but we hadn’t talked with her in nearly two years. We offered to let her live at home so we could monitor her medications and make sure that she attended therapy. Once Ed’s father died and left the house in Orono to her, we didn’t have as much leverage. We had to set boundaries with her to keep our own sanity. She refused to abide by our rules and we had no choice,” she said.

Ed cleared his throat. “We’re going back on the next ferry, so if you could hand over the dog, we’ll be on our way. We can manage from here.”

Cooper sat down with his haunches wedged against Rocky’s feet. Her running shoes still held the sand and salt from this morning’s walk. Her hand went automatically to his head and she rubbed the loose skin of his scalp. The cat, in a moment of rare congeniality, rubbed up against Cooper’s leg. The dog tilted his head to one side and peeked down at the cat in surprise.

“I suppose there are vet bills to take care of. How much do we owe?” said Jan.

“That bill was taken care of. I paid it, well most of it. We got a deal from the vet. He lives on the island,” said Rocky.

Isaiah rolled his eyes. “I didn’t know that you paid his vet bill.”

“I’ve gotten sort of attached to this guy and I want to let you know that I would be willing to keep him. If you two don’t really want a dog, I mean, they’re a big responsibility, and not everyone really has time for a dog like this—”

“We take care of our own. We’re cleaning up after our daughter and this is part of what she left,” said Jan. Had Liz’s illness washed all the life out of this woman? Or had Jan always been this way?

“Cooper is not part of a mess. He’s a dog who loved your daughter and was loyal to her. If you think that you’re not going to have time for him, I’ll take him. He likes it here. He likes me,” said Rocky

Ed unzipped his jacket several inches. “This might not be a bad idea, honey. He did overpower the house the last time he was there.”

“No. I just hired someone to put a run in the backyard and we have a new barricade fence. He’ll do fine out there,” said Jan.

Isaiah moved toward the door. “We’ve got twenty minutes to the next ferry. The Townsends have made up their mind Rocky, and they have heard your offer. They have declined. The dog is leaving with them. Let’s not make this any harder on them than it already is,” he said. “You’ve taken good care of him, Rocky. That’s the job.”

Ed took the leash off the kitchen counter and snapped it onto Cooper’s collar. The dog’s ears dropped and the center of his eyebrows rose. Everybody, including the dog, looked at Rocky for the next move.

“Come on, Coop,” said Rocky. She moved slowly, dreamlike, wishing herself anywhere but here. She followed the couple and the dog to their car. The coffee that she had been
drinking since six
A.M
. started to form sharp gravel in her intestines. Ed opened the back door to the car and urged the dog in. Cooper looked back at Rocky as if she were coming with him. She bent down and put her arms around his neck, scratching his chest the way he liked and kissed the top of his head. Her throat tightened.

“Get in, Cooper,” she said.

The dog hesitated, then leapt with surprising ease into the backseat that had been covered with a ragged towel. Rocky winced when she saw that Cooper’s fur was still damp from this morning’s walk. The Townsends wouldn’t like that.

The Townsends backed up their sedan, turned around, and drove off. Cooper was sitting in the backseat and as they pulled out, he turned his head to look toward Rocky.

She stared at the departing car long after it was out of sight, frozen to the spot.

“You did the right thing,” said Isaiah. He cleared his throat and pushed his hands into his pockets. Rocky spun around at him.

“Don’t talk to me today, or tomorrow! This is not the right thing and you know it. This stinks. A dog run! A fucking dog run! He’s not that kind of dog. He’s a people dog, he has to be with his person. That’s me.”

Rocky felt the last two words settle into her as the shocking truth. She turned her heel on Isaiah and walked back into the house and felt the unstoppable convulsions of sorrow howl out of her as she leaned against the door. Isaiah knocked.

“Go away!”

He was quiet outside her door, then slowly scuffed off the deck. She heard his truck pull out. After her sobs emptied
out, she splashed cold water on her face. It wasn’t fair that she had to keep losing everyone she loved. She could stop this disaster from happening; she had a choice this time. Her keys to the truck hung on a nail by the door. She grabbed them and ran to the truck. The battery, which had been acting peevish, gave its death rattle, the reluctant sound of a battery that would like to oblige, but has lost its juice. She kept turning it over until there was nothing but a click from the ignition.

She pounded the steering wheel with her fist. “No, no, no!”

The dock was one mile away. She had five minutes before the ferry left. Sometimes in the winter their schedule was less than exact. She pulled off the backpack, and started running. These were different muscles than walking muscles but she hoped they were in working order because she was going to take them to the limit. She could make it and she would stop them. She was the Animal Control Warden. She had some authority.

Her legs responded to the emergency. The sandy gravel tried to drag her down, but she pushed off with each step as if nothing else mattered. She hit the paved road just past Melissa’s house and she got up on her toes and ran like she had seen sprinters do. There was one hill as she rounded the main island road and gravity took an extra measure from her. She heard the ferry blast its departure horn. She tilted her head back to suck in more oxygen and pumped her arms as she blew past the closed fudge shop and T-shirt shop. She skidded around the corner to the dock. The ferry was already churning up water and was fifty yards out. There was only one car on the ferry, and she could still see the top of Cooper’s
black head through the window. She reached the end of the dock and without wanting to, she yelled, “Cooper!” The cold restraint of the metal chain barricade pressed against her thighs.

She thought she heard his deep, resonant bark over the wind and the engine as she collapsed to her knees and the ferry carried him away.