Sneak Thief (A Dog Park Mystery) (6 page)

He held the foil up so that the section split in two was at the bottom. This would be the legs. The middle section was the body and the top would be the head and arms. He carefully brought his hands together, causing the foil to crumple inwards, stopping when his fingers touched. He moved to the legs and the arms, working slowly so that the foil would crumple in different directions, creating volume as he brought the edges closer together.

He twisted the arms and legs gently to give them strength and help them hold their shape. To make the head, he crunched the end of the foil piece, then slowly rolled it in upon itself, rolling and crunching, down to the body. He left the final bit smooth so he could manipulate it with a dulled toothpick to create features.

He frowned at the blank figure, wondering what he should make it do. Sometimes he let his hands speak and tell him unexpected things. Today his hands were silent, waiting for him to make a decision.

He turned around, looking at the walls of foil dolls playing soccer, hugging, eating, dancing, fighting, making love, lurking in the dark room, their tiny facets reflecting fragments of shattered light from his computer screen.

Desiree wasn't getting his message. It never got through. In the past, he believed the woman wasn't the right one if she didn't understand his messages. It would hurt, but he would say good-bye in his own special way and move on.

He couldn't do that to Desiree. He
had
to make her understand, but how? The tiny multitude of emissaries stared at him, mutely taunting him with their inability to truly speak for him. He looked down at his clenched fist, at the shapeless ball of foil inside. He threw it against the wall, knocking a dozen of his creations off their perches

L
ia fixed
her eyes firmly on her monitor as Desiree rushed into the scoring room, barely skimming inside the grace period for latecomers. A colorful shiner graced her left eye and cheek. Lia fixed an impassive expression on her face, determined to stand her ground while maintaining the composure she had lost that morning.

Desiree walked past their row to Eric's station. The two conversed in tones too low for Lia to make out what they were saying. The confab ended and Desiree brushed behind Lia on the way to her chair. As her computer loaded the scoring program, she pulled five foil figures out of her tote and arranged them on her monitor and tower.

Lia watched her out of the corner of her eye. Desiree pouted as she fussed with their positions, turning them to catch the light on their foil angles and pretending the entire scoring team was not glued to her in fascination at the moment.

Five figures. One more had appeared that day, then. This one stood in an aggressive pose, chin down while clenching tiny fists in front of his face in a boxing stance. Lia wondered if Desiree's admirer had somehow learned of the scene, or if Desiree had altered the figure's pose. Lia thought not. The foil had been deftly formed. It did not show the crinkling of repeated handling.

Had he been there, clapping and hooting along with Charlie and the rest? She didn't recall any strangers that morning, but she'd been preoccupied. Curious as she was, she was not about to end the silence and ask Desiree about it.

Tension remained thick in the air until break time. Lia waited for Desiree to leave, then grabbed her bag and stood up. The room was almost empty.

“Lia, wait up a sec,” Eric called. He caught up with her at the end of the aisle. “What's going on with you and Desiree? She comes in late, sporting a huge shiner, and asks to change seats on some bogus pretext. The two of you haven't said a word to each other all night. Usually, you're thicker than thieves in molasses.”

Lia looked in the clear blue eyes and saw only concern. “I don't want to talk about it. If Desiree does, that's her business. Anything else you wanted, Kemosabe?”

“It's affecting your performance. Your count is way up, but your accuracy is down. Not horrible, but not to your usual standard.”

“I'll be more careful.” She turned away, signaling the end of the conversation.

“Look, are the two of you going to be able to work next to each other? Seating assignments are practically carved in stone. I need something more than a fake cough and a complaint about the AC vent. I can make it happen, but you both would wind up with a tick in your file about not playing well with others.”

“No problem on my end. I can't speak for Desiree.” She kept going.

She ran into Ted in the coffee line. He was a cheerful, middle-aged man who sat in front of her in the scoring room.

“Who hit Desiree?” he stage-whispered.

“Not talking.” She held her palm up and veered off to the other coffee machine.

Coffee in hand, she scanned the tables until she spotted Terry in a back corner, munching on popcorn. The front of his tee shirt read “The answer is 42.” Lia knew the back of his shirt said “42 is 54.”

“That's a serious mouse you gave Desiree. I'm sorry I didn't catch your boxing debut this morning.”

“Not you, too,” she groaned, sitting down with a thump. She pulled a baggie of mixed nuts and dried fruit out of her tote. “I didn't realize you'd heard about it.”

“You kidding? Charlie was so enthused, he offered to turn the old entry corral into a mud pit for wrestling.”

“Charlie is always the gentleman.”

“What started it? Nobody at the park knew.”

Lia sighed, abandoned her fruit and nuts. “You and I have been buddying up to one of the women Luthor was sneaking around with when I dated him. And she's carrying the romantic notion that if only the bitch, namely
moi
, had let Luthor go, he'd still be alive today and her life would be complete.”

“Ah, the delusions of youth. Of course you had to disavow her of such a ludicrous idea.”

“Delusions is right. I don't think she got the message. It's the Cold War all over on our row.”

“I would sic Napa on her for you, but I couldn't even get her to bite the IRS agent who audited me last year.”

“You're a true friend, Terry.”

H
oney
, Chewy and Viola rushed the door when she unlocked it. She bent over to pet them, then gasped when a strong arm snaked around her waist and pulled her against a hard chest. Another arm wrapped around her neck.

“What are you going to do now, little girl?” a hoarse whisper sounded in her ear.

Not in the mood for games, Lia raised her kubotan keychain, grasped it firmly with both hands and drove the end into a pressure point on Peter's elbow.

“Ow!” Peter dropped his arms. He stepped back, rubbing the injured joint. “What did I do to deserve
that
?”

“It's what you
didn't
do.” She glared up at him, folding her arms. Chewy nudged her leg. She ignored him.

“Well, that's clear as mud. Mind cluing me in?”

“How about you cluing
me
in? Like how about my
boyfriend
letting me know that my new BFF was one of Luthor's old
girlfriends
.”

“Oh, Jesus.” Peter sighed and sat down, rubbing his face with one hand. Viola whined and laid her head on his thigh. He patted her automatically.

Lia sat down opposite him, her placid face revealing nothing. The silence drew out.

“You do know the pizza's getting cold?” Peter tried.

Lia raised one eyebrow.

“It's Dewey's.”

Lia said nothing while continuing her impassive stare. She was not moved by the worried look on Peter's face. Peter looked away first.

“Well?” Lia prompted.

“I should have told you.”

“Yes, you should have.”

“I didn't know for sure that it was her the first time you mentioned her, and I didn't want to drag up old wounds.”

“Uh-huh, that was more than two weeks ago.”

“And I figured you'd go your separate ways when the project was over. I didn't know you were going to invite her into the dog park crowd.”

“But I did.”

“And you were getting along so well . . . .”

“And?”

“And I'm a big chicken.”

“Yeah, you are.”

“How bad was it?”

“Before or after I decked her?”

“You
hit
her?”

“After she slapped me and tore my favorite studio shirt.”

“Jesus H. Christ.”

“The guys were entertained. We had quite an audience before it was over.”

“Are you okay?”

“
I'm
fine. It's going to take a while for Desiree's black eye to fade.”

“God, I'm sorry.”

“How could you?”

“I just explained . . . .”

“Not that.” Lia swatted the air. “How could you go to one of Luthor's old girlfriends to make a necklace for me? Don't you have
any
concern for my feelings?”

“It wasn't like that—”

“How was it then? Either she made it or she didn't.”

“I thought the old man made it. He's the one I talked to.”

“So you
didn't
know Desiree was working there?” She folded her arms and leaned back, daring him to deny it.

“Well, no, I knew she worked there, I just didn't re—Look, I went to the place that understood what I wanted. What does it matter who made it?”

“Because.” Lia stood up and pulled the delicate gold chain with its glittering talisman out of her pocket, holding it up by two fingers. It flashed color as it swayed between them, reminding Lia of the roof lights on top of a police car.

“It. Has.
Cooties
.” She thrust the necklace at him.

“What are you doing?”

“Take it back. I don't want it.”

“Now, hold on—”

Lia flicked her hand, letting the pendant fly. It hit Peter's chest. He fumbled to catch it before it fell.

“Maybe Desiree will want it. She sure seemed to like
you
well enough.” Lia stalked into the kitchen.

P
eter heard
the oven door open. “It's not like that. You
know
it's not like that.”

She returned holding the Dewey's box. “How can I know what it's like when you don't tell me anything?” She shoved the box in his chest. “Take your pizza and go. I'm not in the mood for company.”

Peter stood, gawping. “This is why I never said anything,” he called over his shoulder. “I knew you'd freak about it no matter what I said. C'mon, Viola. Looks like you're getting more than crusts tonight.”

“
I
just want
you to know, I had nothing to do with it,” Jose called out as Lia and her horde entered the dog park.

“What are you talking about, Jose?” Jose's Sophie leaned her massive body against Lia's legs. She automatically reached down to stroke the furred boulder that was Sophie's head.

“You ain't seen it yet?”

“Seen what?” Lia ruffled Sophie's ears. “You're such a good girl, aren't you, Sophie?”

“I hate to be the one to break it to ya, but your scrap with Desiree wound up on YouTube.”

“WHAT?” Startled, Sophie loped off. “Are you
serious
?”

“As a heart attack. But I didn't do it. I don't know who did.”

Lia turned to look at his companion. “Charlie . . . .”

“Don't look at me. The only thing my phone does is make calls. You're real popular. You had over 5,000 hits when I saw it this morning. Must be a lot of guys searching YouTube for girl fights.”

Lia closed her eyes, breathing in and out slowly, the way her therapist taught her to stave off anxiety attacks. “I don't believe this.”

“Believe what?” Bailey said as she walked up with Kita.

Lia took Bailey by the arm and pulled her towards the back of the park. “Walk with me. You have no idea what's happened.”

“That you punched Desiree? I heard about that. Why didn't you call me yesterday? I thought we were friends.”

“We are. I was too upset. This is worse.”

“What could be worse?”

“Someone put it on YouTube and it's gone viral.”

“Wow.” Bailey paused to consider. “At least it's not
your
fuchsia underwire hanging out for everyone to see. I hear she has amazing breasts. Maybe that's why it's getting so many hits. Did you really rip her shirt off?”

“I ripped it. I didn't rip it off. Doesn't anyone have anything better to talk about? Everywhere I go, someone has to cross-examine me about it.”

“Are you going to tell me what happened? The speculation is rampant and imaginative. The hopeful theory is that it was a lesbian love-spat.”

“Oh, that's just dandy.” Lia rolled her eyes. “I suppose Desiree's the femme and I'm the butch?”

Bailey looked Lia up and down. “What do you expect with her satin underwear and your bag-lady discards?”

“Remember Luthor?”

“What about him?”

“Desiree is one of the women he was seeing while he was with me. She seems to think he would still be alive
if only
I had been willing to let him go.”

“You're kidding.”

“Nope. I deprived her of the love of her life.”

Bailey sputtered, “
Luthor
?”

“Yep.”

“What was she, twenty-one or twenty-two when that happened?”

“What has that got to do with it?”

“She's still pretty young. She probably believed everything he told her.”

“Bully for her.”

“You should consider cutting her a little slack. I know I was pretty stupid about men when I was her age.”

“She slapped me first.”

“I bet she doesn't know anything about endorphins. I bet she's confusing oxytocin with true love. She's probably convinced Luthor was her soul-mate. I'd hate thinking I had to wait until I died to see my soul-mate again.”

Lia rolled her eyes. “Cry me a river.”

“This video could get you some attention. You never know. You could get famous. She might have done you a favor.”

“I'll be sure to thank her when the Whitney Museum comes calling.”

“Do you know who posted the video?”

“Bailey, I haven't even seen the video. And I don't want to.”

Bailey pulled her phone out of its belt holster and tapped the Video Tube icon. She hummed the Jeopardy theme while searching, bobbing her head in time with the tune. Lia wondered if she was doing this deliberately to annoy her.

“Here it is, ‘Cat Fight at the Dog Park . . .' Hmm . . . this was posted by someone named The Watcher—oooh, spooky.” Bailey faked a shudder.

“Cut it out,” Lia said, giving Bailey's shoulder a light shove.

“He only has the one video up . . . That's weird. No picture and nothing in his profile. Wow. Look at all the comments.”

“Put it away, Bailey.”

“Don't you want to figure out who posted this?”

“No.”

“Now you're just being stubborn. I'm going to watch, even if you aren't.” Bailey turned to face Lia on their picnic table, so that Lia could only see the back of the little phone.

“Is that the soundtrack to
300
?” Lia asked.

“Fun movie. Great music.”

“Give me that.” Lia reached for the phone.

Bailey turned away, putting the phone out of reach. “You didn't want to watch, remember? Ooooh! She cracked you a
good
one.”

“Hand it over.”

“Wow, she does have amazing breasts. This guy has a very effective use of zoom.”

“Bailey . . . . Wait a minute, how do you know it's a guy?”

“A woman would never focus in on her chest like that. Whoa! You must have knocked her ten feet! Right in the water. Great aim, Lia! . . . And there you go, walking off into the sunrise . . . wait a minute, there's Desiree again . . . Beloved Goddess, would you look at that!”

“What?”

Bailey shook her head. “Desiree is sure ballsy. The guys must have been staring at her, because she hauls herself out of the tub and proceeds to remove her torn shirt and toss it in Charlie's face before she picks up a tennis ball and wings it at you. Then she stomps off, with nothing but her jeans and bra on. . . . Oh, it's over. I guess you didn't know about that because you'd already left.”

Lia sighed. “May I please see it?”

“All you had to do was ask nice.” Bailey extended a graceful hand, offering the phone for Lia's perusal.

Lia hesitated. “Maybe I don't want to see it after all.”

“It won't bite. You know you're going to watch it eventually. You might as well get it over with and save yourself the agonizing.”

Lia picked up the little phone and examined the still at the beginning of the video. It showed her hugging a weeping Desiree. “Something's wrong with this.”

“What do you mean?”

"Someone was recording us
before
the fight started.” She hit play, watched the emotional moment turn into a brawl. Paused it. Pointed at the little screen. “See? You can just barely see a slice of Charlie's back on the edge of the frame, and I bet Jose's standing on his other side.”

“So?”

“Whoever shot this was well behind Charlie.” She looked up, scanning the far side of the park. “You said he used zoom?”

“Uh huh. Start it up again, you'll see.”

Lia watched as the video closed in on Desiree's very expensive brassiere. She hit pause again and looked up, squinting as she struggled to remember which way Desiree had been facing. She hardly remembered any of it, it had happened so fast.

“He was in the woods. With the slope on that side, he had to be up a tree to get that shot. I don't think it was anyone we know. I bet The Watcher is Desiree's Foil-man. Can you download and save YouTube videos?”

“I think so. You can use ClipGrab, but you need to be at your computer. You didn't even want to look at it. Why do you want to save it?”

“He might decide to delete it. She needs to be warned.” Lia pulled out her phone and tapped out Desiree's number.

“Yesterday you gave her a black eye, now you want to protect her?”

“This is serious. If this guy is willing to climb trees just to look at her, who knows what he'll do next.”

“Maybe it was you he was looking at.”

“It wasn't
my
boobs he zoomed in on.”

“You think she'll listen to you? Why don't you let Peter handle it? I mean, it
is
his job.”

“Peter,” Lia gritted out, “is out of the picture.”

Bailey widened her eyes. She made an ‘O' with her lips and said nothing.

The call went to voicemail. Lia left the information about the video along with a plea that Desiree talk to someone at District Five.

“Think that's enough?” Bailey asked when Lia put the phone away.

“Who knows. But it's the best I can do if she won't talk to me.”