Silent Night: A Raine Stockton Dog Mystery (13 page)

Nick straightened up, wiped his hands on his dusty jeans, and licked his lips.  Buck waited silently. 

“Look,” Nick said, “we hung out a few times, that’s all.  She didn’t have much else going on for her, and she was a good enough kid.  So she called me to pick her up from school, but I told her I couldn’t.  That’s it.  I don’t know where she is.”  He hesitated.  “I hope she’s okay.”

“So do we,” Buck said.  “Look, Nick, four different people said they saw her leave her house late yesterday in a green car.  It wasn’t yours?”

He shook his head.  “I don’t have a car.  Sometimes I borrow my dad’s truck, but he was out delivering firewood yesterday.”

Buck said, “Is that where he is now?”

“Yeah, we got two more loads to get out today.  And he’s going to be plenty mad if I don’t get this one split by the time he gets back.”

I said, “What about your brother?  What kind of car does he drive?”

Again Buck glanced at me and Nick answered impatiently, “A Ford Explorer, red.  And he’s not even in town.  His wife and he went to her folks in Michigan for Christmas. I told Ashleigh that.”

Nick’s brother, Keith, worked in the service department of the Ford dealership out on the highway, and his wife was a teller at the bank.  I knew that because they had brought their six-month-old Golden to Dog Daze for training classes during the summer, and they had to take turns bringing him depending on who could get off work early.  I admired them for their dedication. 

“Some officers stopped by here last night about ten o’clock, looking to talk to you.  No one was home.”

“I went over to Mobley with some guys after the parade to see a movie.” 

“Oh yeah?  What’d you see?”

“That new spaceship comedy.  It was pretty good.  The aliens were kind of hokey, though.”

Buck smiled.  “I’ll have to check it out.  Where were your folks?”

He shrugged.  “My mom’s doing double shifts at the Wal-Mart in Mobley from now till Christmas.  Who knows where my dad was?”

He licked his lips again, looking uneasy.  “Look, I’ve got to get this wood split.  I’d help you if I could.  I don’t want anything bad to happen to Ashleigh.”

Buck took a card from his pocket and handed it to Nick.  “If you think of anybody she might have gone to stay with, or if you hear from her, you call me, okay?”

Nick took the card and glanced at it.  “Yeah, okay, whatever.  But–hey!”

I barely had time to glance around in the direction of his startled gaze before a golden blur came barreling by, almost knocked me off my feet with his speed and flung himself on Buck.  “Cisco!” I cried, and lunged for his collar. Buck managed to catch Cisco’s forepaws in mid-leap before they splattered his jacket with paw prints, and I commanded furiously, “Off!”

Cisco dropped to all fours, but only because Buck was rubbing his ears companionably.  “Don’t reward him for that,” I snapped, and caught Cisco’s collar.  He was still wearing his seatbelt harness, and when I looked around, sure enough, the culprit who had freed him came sauntering up with her hands in her coat pockets.

“He wanted to get out,” she explained matter-of-factly.

If Melanie had been one of my dogs, the look I gave her would have sent her slinking to her crate.  She was, of course, oblivious.

“Cisco,” I told her in a tone only slightly less sharp than the one had I used with Buck, “doesn’t always have to get what he wants. I told you to stay in the car.”

“Your phone was ringing.”

Oh, great
.
I had completely forgotten to call Miles, and worse, I’d left the phone in the car so that he couldn’t reach me.  “It was probably your father.  Go call him back and tell him we’re on our way.”

As usual, she ignored me, gazing at Buck with interest.  “Are you a real cop?”

He smiled at her.  “Yes, ma’am.  Are you a real princess?”

She looked confused and wary.  “I’m not a princess.”

“Really?  You sure look like one to me.  And I’m a real cop.”

That legendary charm of his even got Melanie to smile.  She said, “Is this a crime scene?  I’ve never been to a crime scene before.”

“You still haven’t,” I told her.  And to Buck, “This is Melanie, Miles’s daughter.  She’s supposed to be waiting in the car.”  The last was added with a meaningful glare at Melanie, which she ignored.  That seemed to amuse Buck.

“Pleased to meet you, Melanie,” he said.  “I’m Sheriff Buck Lawson.”

In the background, the poor female Golden behind the chain link started to bark at Cisco, and he pricked up his ears in acknowledgement, reminding me why I had come here.  I started to speak to Nick, but he was eyeing Cisco nervously.  “Is that a drug dog?” he asked.

Odd.  That was the second time in twenty-four hours I had been asked that question.  I drew a breath to reply but Buck turned back to Nick and spoke over me smoothly.

“How come, Nick?  You got drugs around here you’re worried about?”

He frowned.  “No.  I just don’t like strange dogs around, that’s all.”

“Oh, Cisco is a highly trained search dog,” Buck assured him, and I couldn’t help noticing he did not specify what Cisco was trained to search for.  He reached down and patted Cisco’s shoulder.  Cisco grinned in agreement.  “He’s done a lot of work for the department.”

As he spoke he slipped his hand under Cisco’s collar, moving mine aside.  His eyes met mine briefly, and I let go of Cisco, straightening up.

Nick said, “I don’t think he can be here without a warrant.  I think I studied that in civics class.”

“What, the dog?  He’s just along for the ride.  He’s a good old dog, aren’t you Cisco?  You want to say hello to Nick?”

He released Cisco’s collar and Nick shouted, “Hey!” as Cisco took off like a shot—just as I knew he would—for the kennel where the female Golden was caged.

I said, “Damn it, Buck!” and started after Cisco, but Buck put out his hand in a staying gesture. He was watching Nick carefully.

Melanie said, “I’m going to tell my dad about your language.”  But her eyes were bright with excitement.  “Is this a drug bust?  Are you going to call the S.W.A.T. team?  Wait until my mom hears about this!”

I muttered, “Oh Lord, just kill me now.” 

I knew what Buck was trying to do, but he had no right to use Cisco without my permission, and I wasn’t about to lose to my dog just so he could make a teenage boy sweat over a couple of ounces of pot.  Particularly when I was responsible for a minor child who already had enough dirt on me to make sure that she—and, in most likelihood, her father as well—was never alone with me again.
 

Nick said, “I’m going to call my dad.”

“Sure,” Buck agreed easily.  “You do whatever you have to.  And don’t worry about the dog.  I’ll follow him around, make sure he doesn’t get into anything.”

“Oh, for heaven’s sake!” I exploded under my breath, and I stalked off to reclaim my dog.

Cisco is in training.  I remind myself of that every day.  This is why, even though he regularly astonishes me on the tracking field, in the agility ring and yes, occasionally even with obedience exercises, I try never to make the mistake of expecting him to do what I ask every single time I ask it.  My rule of thumb is that I never give a command until I’m ninety percent sure my dog will obey it.  That’s why I didn’t try to call him away from his communion with the other golden retriever.  Instead I chose to go and get him.

Usually when he saw me he would wag his tail and bound over to me.  But whether it was the crisp winter air and his unexpected freedom in a strange place or he was just trying to show off for the other dog, as soon as I got within about ten feet of him he did a spin, a butt-tuck and took off like a mad thing across the yard.  I stood stock still, fuming but trying not to show it, while he raced like a greyhound around the detached garage, across the back porch, over a flat-bed trailer, and into the barn.  Melanie came up beside me.

“Doesn’t look like much of a drug dog to me,” she observed skeptically.

“Go back to the car,” I told her, pronouncing each word carefully, “and get me a leash from the back.  Right now.”

She actually turned for the car, which gave me hope that Cisco might be as obedient.

I was halfway to the barn when Cisco came trotting out.  He was carrying something the size of a child’s toy in his mouth, and his tail was swishing with pride. I quickened my step and dug into my pocket for a dog biscuit.  There were all sorts of things in a barn that dogs should never put in their mouths, and about a dozen of them were racing through my head at the moment.  I commanded, “Cisco, here!” and made sure he saw the dog biscuit in my hand.

He pranced right to me, sat beautifully, and dropped the object at my feet.  I gave him the dog biscuit, hooked his collar with one hand, and picked up the object he had dropped with the other.

“Well, well,” Buck said behind me.  “What have we here?”

I handed it over to him.  It was a plastic baby Jesus, the kind that had been disappearing from Nativity scenes all over the county.

____________

TEN

C
ome on, Sheriff, it was just a prank.”  Nick’s voice sounded a little desperate as he gazed into the box filled with purloined replicas of the Christ child that ranged from thumb-sized to the full-grown doll that had been stolen from the town Nativity only yesterday. Cisco, the famous drug dog, was now securely belted in the back seat of my car, but Melanie refused to be moved and was avidly taking in every word. 

“It was Dave Harper; he's the one that dared me to do it.  Said I couldn't get a hundred before Christmas, you know,” Nick went on, almost pleading.  “I didn’t mean no harm.  It was just a prank.”

“Actually, it’s theft by taking,” said Buck, writing in his pad.  “That’s Dusty Harper’s boy, over on Gap Creek?”

Nick nodded miserably.  “Are you going to arrest me?”

“You and your daddy are going to have to come down to the office as soon as he gets back,” Buck said.  “You’ll be charged, and you’ll get a court date.”

“He’s gonna kill me,” Nick said.

“Probably not.  But I wouldn’t be surprised if he took a strip out of your hide.  I would if you were mine. What were you going to do with all of these things, anyway? ”

Nick looked blank.  Clearly he hadn’t thought that far ahead.

Seeing the boy’s wretchedness, Buck’s face softened.  “Look,” he said, “I’m guessing there’s probably under a thousand dollars’ worth of merchandise here.  That’s petty theft, and that means no jail time if the judge is in a good mood.  But you’d better make sure you’re clean as a whistle before you go in front of the bench so if there’s anything you’re keeping to yourself, now would be the time to tell me.”

Nick shifted his gaze away.  I could see him chewing the inside of his cheek.  Melanie, who had been watching the entire proceeding with great interest, piped up helpfully, “What about throwing those puppies away on the side of the road?  That’s a crime, isn’t it?”

Nick stared at her, and Buck looked quizzically at me.  “Someone dumped a box of golden-mix puppies at the end of my driveway,” I explained.  “And your dog just had a litter.”

Nick scowled fiercely.  “The old man said he was going to drown them.  I thought I was doing a good thing.  Now I guess I’m going to jail for that too.”

I sighed.  “No, they don’t put you in jail for that.”  Though I privately thought they should.  “But I would like to talk to your dad about it.”

Buck said, “Looks like you’re going to have to stand in line, Rainey.”

Nick blurted, “Look, you came here asking about Ashleigh and I told you what I know. I can’t do any more than that.  I’m sorry about the puppies and I’m sorry about the stupid baby Jesuses but I can’t go to jail, I just can’t!”  He looked up at Buck, eyes pleading.  “Can’t you help me out with my dad?”

Buck looked at me, and I looked at Buck, and we both were frowning.
 
I gave a small jerk of my head and walked a little bit away.  Buck came with me. 

“I was at school yesterday with Cisco and I heard Ashleigh on the phone with Nick,” I told Buck in a low tone.  “I didn’t put it together until now, but he’s not telling the whole truth.  She was practically hysterical on the phone.  She said something terrible had happened and begged Nick to help her.  Do you suppose she witnessed the murder?”

“Could be.”  Buck looked grim. “Or committed it.”

I stared at him. “But—What about Camo Man?”

“Yeah, we tracked him down early this morning at home.”  A corner of his lips turned down dryly.  “He’d been wilderness camping the past five days, snagged himself a five-pointer, dressed it out in the woods and took it to Leland Brown for processing. It all checks out.
 
He claims some girl lost the ring when he gave her a ride to town yesterday afternoon.”

“Ashleigh,” I said, and he nodded.

“He picked her up at the Dairy Queen on Burdock Road last night and let her off at the town square.  He saw her drop the ring and claims he tried to call her back, but she was in too much of a hurry to leave.  So he picked it up and put it in his pocket.
 
That must have been right before you saw him in the diner.  The reason he was short on money was that he had just realized his wallet was missing.”