A. Lee Martinez's Blog, page 8

Lost and Found in the Mire

Jen drove into the swamp on a cool wet night. The roads were muddy, but her four wheel drive could handle it. She drove through the dark, an unopened beer in her hand. She thought about taking a drink because–fuck it– it was only one beer and anyone wandering through the swamp at this time of night deserved to get run over. But if it happened by some one-in-a-million chance, she’d feel shitty about it. She didn’t need that. Though killing someone would be the perfect finish to her night.

She drove through the mist, afraid she’d miss her turn. It’d been years since she’d been to the cabin.

The turn came. It was farther than she remembered. When the cabin finally came into view, she barely recognize it.

The place was a broken down shack. It still stood, but she expected it’d fall over if she slammed the jeep door too forcefully.… Read the rest “Lost and Found in the Mire”

Q&A: Losing Interest

From the ol’ Action Force mailbag:

Ok, got an interesting question. I asked you recently about Duke and Earl (of Gil’s All Fright Diner). I also noticed, on Facebook, someone else did, too. I’m suspecting it’s a question you get a lot and one you’re getting maybe a little irritated answering. That said, I’m curious about what made you lose interest in these characters?

 

Great question, and the answer is complicated enough that I thought I’d answer it here publicly.

First of all, I don’t find the question irritating. It’s never insulting to be asked this sort of thing because it means I did a good job. Writing is a lonely profession without a lot of direct feedback, so stuff like this is always flattering and rewarding.

Gil’s All Fright Diner was my first published novel. It was not, however, my first novel.… Read the rest “Q&A: Losing Interest”

Inside Dog

INSIDE DOG

Bill tapped his white cane against the floor in a steady rhythm, counting the seconds, the minutes, the just over an hour that he’d been sitting in this interrogation room.

The doors creaky hinges squeaked. Chestnut raised her head and gave a soft growl. He patted her on the head. “Easy, girl.”

Connie set a folder down on the table. “Hello, Mr. Velasco. My name is Constance Verity, and I’m here to help you.”

Chestnut slinked behind Bill’s chair.

Connie’s voice sounded vaguely familiar to Bill, like a not-quite-obscure-character actor he couldn’t quite place..

“Are you my lawyer?” he asked.

“You don’t need one,” said Connie. “Would you like something to drink? I have a water bottle I’m putting directly in front of you.” She set it down and gave him the courtesy of allowing him to reach for it.… Read the rest “Inside Dog”

The Indifferent Stars

Geneva Cthulhu

Most of the time, freelancing for the Unknowables was a simple gig. Track something down. Bring something back. Fix this. Break that. Keep your head down. Don’t ask too many questions because the answers are never going to satisfy you.

But sometimes things got complicated. Sometimes, you ended up surrounded by cultists worshipping ancient gods. Most of the gods didn’t give a damn about who or who didn’t worship them. We were beneath their notice. Tiny crawling things screaming to the void in hopes it might hear us, never pondering it might be better to be ignored. We looked to the stars with dreams of greatness when all along it was waiting to devour us for wanting more than we had.

There was nothing wrong with wanting more. I had dreams. Dreams of living with Mom under the sea, dwelling in the shadow of an indifferent god.… Read the rest “The Indifferent Stars”

Gloop

Lickity Spit

Someone as a joke had painted out the second L in The Lickety Split. Everybody just rolled with it.

The thing was there, hidden in the darkened bowels of the Spit, squeezed behind the pipes. And it was hungry. It reached out with one of its hands, wriggling its clawed fingers. Its two yellow eyes gleamed in the shadows.

“Pass me my sandwich, would you?”

Adam handed the peanut butter and anchovy on rye to the blutarian mechanic, who shoved it whole into his maw without bothering to unwrap it. It swallowed, plastic and all, in one gulp, and went back to work.

Adam hated sewage duty. He wasn’t built for crawling around in these cramped spaces. Not like Nickles, who had the advantage of a skeleton made almost entirely of cartilage and only three vital internal organs had their advantages.… Read the rest “Gloop”

Stains

He met the old woman by the river. She knelt by the water, beating bloody clothes against the rocks. She’d wring out the fabric, dripping streams of bright blood into the water.

He’d seen her before. Many times. But he’d never had the nerve to approach her. As dusk settled, he came closer.

The old woman kept her back to him as she hunched over the water. Her long black hair kept him from seeing her face, but her dirty gown clung to her bones and her hands were withered and claw-like.

“So you finally come to talk,” she said. “I didn’t know if you ever would.”

“My mother’s dying,” he said.

The woman laughed coldly. “I know.”

“They say the old woman of the river–you–know the secrets of life and death.”

“They are not secrets you want to know, boy.” She turned her head in his direction.… Read the rest “Stains”

The Truth About Magic

“There is something you need to know about magic,” said Sean.

“I know,” replied Gary. “It always has a price.”

“What? No. Who told you that?”

“Everybody,” said Gary.

“Well, everybody is wrong.”

“But what about the laws of thermodynamics?”

“If magic followed the rules of thermodynamics, it wouldn’t be magic, would it?”

“But surely there must be some grounding in physics,” said Gary. “Maybe quantum physics?”

“Quantum physics only works on a tiny scale. If you were going to conjure a teacup the size of an atom, then maybe quantum physics would apply. But who the hell would want to do that?”

“All right,” said Gary. “So throw thermodynamics, physics, all that out the window. Got it. What’s it going to cost me? Do I have to sell my soul? Do I have to give up part of my life force?… Read the rest “The Truth About Magic”

Curses

Life in Rockwood

 

The Weeping Woman had haunted Jack since he was a boy as she had haunted all the men of the Banfield family. Sometimes, when alone, the phone would ring, and he’d answer to the sounds of gentle weeping. Or when flicking through the channels of the TV, he’d come across a static-filled outline of the gaunt pale woman, her face hidden behind the her burial shroud. Once, he’d seen her under the flickering streetlight beside the Gas N Guzzle. Mostly shadow, though she grimaced with her pointed yellow teeth and wrung a bloodied cloth with her claw-like fingers. He’d almost confronted her then, but a car horn distracted him. When he turned back, she was gone.

Although she was never really gone.

The Woman had followed the Banfields long before they’d come to Rockwood. Jack’s ma said that one of the Banfield ancestors had killed his wife in a jealous rage, and that this was God’s punishment for the crime.… Read the rest “Curses”

Sleepover (short fiction)

Constance Verity

Silhouetted by the dozens of shimmering lights of a flying saucer hovering over the street, Connie held up her knapsack. “I’m here for the sleepover.”

Zoey and Theodore Durodoye shielded their eyes from the brilliant alien spacecraft, and Connie stood on the threshold, waiting to be invited in.

Tia came bounding down the steps, taking them two at a time. “You made it! Gretchen said you wouldn’t, but I told her you would.” She slipped past her parents and took Connie by the hand. Connie resisted Tia’s pull long enough to signal the saucer. It flashed its lights and sounded off a series of musical pings before zooming into the night sky.

“We’ll be in my room!” said Tia, dragging Connie inside and up the stairs before her parents could recover their senses. She shut the door, sealing them within the sanctuary of her room.

Gretchen sat on Tia’s bed. She raised her eyes from Cheetah Rhythm magazine and glanced at Connie just long enough to remark, “She’s not wearing pajamas.”

“I didn’t have time to change,” said Connie. “I was saving the moon.”

Gretchen snorted. She had few friends, and it wasn’t only because she snorted a lot or that she was a tattletale or that she always knew better than everyone or that when she breathed through her nose, her nostrils whistled. It wasn’t just because of those things, but they didn’t help.

She shrugged. “Whatever.”

“You can borrow some of mine,” said Tia, trying to keep the peace. Her sleepover had been foiled by a competing sleepover at Susan Gilroy’s, who had a big screen television and whose mom let the girls watch PG13 movies. Also, she had a pool.

She dug out some pajamas from a drawer and handed them to Connie, who she then pushed out the hall to the upstairs bathroom before her parents could say anything.

“I don’t think your mom likes me,” said Connie.

“You’re my best friend,” said Tia. “Of course she likes you.” She shut the bathroom door and stood guard in case either mom or dad came upstairs to check on them.

Connie emerged from the bathroom a few moments later. Tia had hit her growth spurt a few months ahead of Connie, and Connie had yet to catch up. The pajamas hung loosely on her, her hands mostly disappearing up the sleeves.

“Perfect!” Tia dragged Connie, past the watchful eyes of her mother at the bottom of the stairs, back to the bedroom. “We’ll take pizza rolls now, Mom. Please, thank you.”

Mom frowned, but she shuffled back to the living room.

“Why do you have this?” asked Gretchen, pulling a pair of nightvision binoculars from Connie’s knapsack.

“You never know when you might need them.”

“Oh, I don’t think you’re supposed to have this.” Gretchen pulled out a long blade of shimmering golden metal.“I’m telling your mom that Connie has a knife.”

“It’s not a knife,” said Connie. “It’s a traditional Martian kurkai, carried by the royal guard of the House of Thro-Zak. And this one’s not really dangerous. It’s more ornamental.” Connie snatched the kurkai away. “And I’m going to tell Tia’s mom you keep going through other people’s stuff without asking.”

“I bet’cha she won’t care once she finds out you have a knife.”

“I bet’cha she will. And it’s a kurkai.”

The two girls squared off, and whichever side won, it would mean the end of the party. Tia stepped between them. “Gretchen, you said you’d be cool.”

Gretchen shrugged. “Whatever.”

Connie smiled, but Tia turned on her. “And you really shouldn’t being bringing kurkais into my house. My mom and dad would totally go nuts if they found out.”

Connie shrugged. “I didn’t mean to bring it. I just didn’t have time to go home before coming over. I’ll just put it back in the knapsack, and they’ll never know.”

Tia glanced at Gretchen. “And they’ll never know, right?”

Gretchen grumbled into her magazine, flipping the pages of agreeably handsome boys without looking at them.

“My mom’s making pizza rolls,” said Tia in an effort to change the subject.

“I hate pizza rolls,” said Gretchen.

“Why did you invite her again?” asked Connie.

Gretchen didn’t look up from her magazine. “At least I go to the same school with her.”

“I go to the same school as both of you.”

“Then how come I don’t see you there?”

“Because I’m doing important stuff like saving the moon and foiling kidnappings and stuff.”

Gretchen snorted. “Must be nice to not have to go to school every day.”

“It is.”

“I bet it is.”

“It totally is. I even have a special dispensation from the president that I can skip as much school as I want.” Connie beamed.

“Your grades must be terrible.”

“B’s and C’s aren’t terrible,” said Connie.

It was Gretchen’s turn to beam. “I’m on the honor roll.”

“Good for you. I found the Loch Ness monster.”

“Good for you. I’m first chair flute on orchestra.”

“Good for you. I know how to play four musical instruments, including one that only exists in the future.”

“Good for you. I kissed Bobby Kim behind the bleachers on Tuesday.”

“Well . . . well . . . good for you!” shouted Connie.

Gretchen grinned smugly, having won the contest.

Tia’s mom knocked on the door and brought in the pizza rolls, along with some cola.

“RC?” said Gretchen. “I bet Susan has Coke.”

Tia’s mom glared, but Tia pushed her out of the room. “Thanks, Mom.” She resisted the urge to slam the door and closed it gently while grinning widely.

“I don’t like pizza rolls.” Gretchen poked at a roll with the eraser tip of a pencil.

“Then don’t eat them,” said Connie, grabbing a handful and shoving them in her mouth.

“I won’t.”

“Good,” replied Connie. Although maybe she said something else. It was hard to tell with all those rolls jammed in her cheeks.

The party did not go well after that. Gretchen sat on Tia’s bed, thumbing through her magazines. Every so often she’d take a sip of the cola and screw up her face and stick out her tongue.

Tia lay on a sleeping bag, playing Tetris on her Gameboy, ignoring Gretchen’s faces and the steady whistle of her nose.

Connie sat at the window, using her binoculars to stare out at the street.

Nobody had said anything for the last hour. Gretchen had sneezed once, and neither Tia nor Connie felt like responding with a courtesy bless you.

Tia rolled over and covered her eyes with her arms. “I should’ve gone to Susan’s sleepover.”

“Don’t blame me. Connie’s the weirdo who brings knives to parties.” Gretchen narrowed her eyes. “Are you sure she’s not in a gang?” Her stage whisper was meant to be about Connie without talking to her.

“Connie, you said you’d stop worrying about stuff and just have fun,” said Tia.

Connie set down her binoculars. “I think your neighbors are jewel thieves.”

Some days, having Connie as her best friend was difficult. And sometimes having Connie as her best friend was a lot of fun. Tia, in desperate need of fun, seized on this opportunity.

“Oh, jewel thieves.” She ran by Connie’s side and peered sternly at the dark house across the street.

“That’s stupid,” said Gretchen.

They ignored her.

Connie said, “I noticed it a week ago. Remember when the Jewel of Ophir was stolen from the Natural History Museum?”

“No,” said Tia and Gretchen in unison.

“And two weeks before that, I remember that nobody was home when the Guinness Emerald Crystal went missing from the Bank of Republic of Colombia.”

“You sure know a lot about jewels,” said Gretchen.

“I don’t think that proves anything,” said Tia. “Lots of people are doing stuff when jewels get stolen.”

“I think we should investigate,” said Connie.

“Or we could just call the police,” said Tia.

Gretchen laughed. “That’s stupid. Why would they care what one dumb girl says?”

Connie said, “It’s better to investigate ourselves. If I’m wrong, then nobody gets hurt. I don’t want to call the cops on innocent people.”

She opened the window and started climbing the tree growing just beside it. It was, Tia knew, a perfect sneaking away tree. Easy to climb, but with no branches that might accidentally brush the house. It didn’t have many leaves to rustle, and Mom and Dad always kept the TV turned up too loud anyway. Tia had never used it to sneak out because the opportunity had never presented itself before. Connie was already on the ground, waving Tia down.

“Your friend is crazy,” said Gretchen.

Tia reached for the tree branch.

“You aren’t going with her? You’re going to get in trouble.”

“Come on. It’ll be fun. We’ll sneak around the house and come right back.”

Gretchen held her magazine in front of her face. “No way.”

“You promised you’d be cool,” said Tia in a sing-songy voice.

Gretchen dropped her magazine. Her own tattletale reflexes struggled against her desire for approval.

“I bet if you were cooler Susan would’ve invited you to her sleepover,” said Tia.

The climb went smoothly, and Connie didn’t say anything when Gretchen joined them. She led them across the street and even though it was only 9 and there were plenty of streetlights, it all felt very clandestine to Tia. She’d done actual clandestine stuff with Connie before. Like that time they’d infiltrated that old haunted castle but discovered that the ghostly queen was all a ploy to cover up a smuggling operation. This wasn’t as exciting as that, but she was just happy they were doing something together finally.

“We’re going to get in trouble,” said Gretchen once again, though a glare from Tia and Connie silenced her. They circled the neighbor’s house once, and then Connie found a loose window leading into the basement. She squeezed through, and Tia knew better than to try to talk her out of it. But she was surprised when Gretchen was the second one through.

“I’m cool,” she said indignantly.

Tia considered playing lookout, but that was the boring job. And what was she looking out for anyway. Connie was wrong about the neighbors, and once they did a little more snooping she’d figure it out. Then they’d all go home and hang out and have a good time.

She followed them in. Connie swept the room with a pocket flashlight.

“Where’d you find that?” asked Gretchen.

“What? You didn’t bring one?” replied Connie, shining the light directly in Gretchen’s eyes.

“Cut it out.” Gretchen batted at the flashlight, stumbling back and bumping into something.

It was a casket, sitting on the floor.

Connie clamped her hand over Gretchen’s mouth, who pulled away with a huff.

“I thought you were going to scream,” said Connie. “Sorry.” She added without really meaning it.

“It’s a casket,” whispered Gretchen.

“No, it’s a coffin,” said Connie. “Caskets are square.”

“Whatever. It’s where they put dead people.”

Connie passed her flashlight over the basement. There was another coffin and not much else down here.

“They’re not jewel thieves,” said Gretchen breathlessly. “They’re murderers, serial killers. And they’re going to kill us.”

Connie clamped her hand over Gretchen’s mouth, who pushed her away again. “Stop doing that!”

“I thought you were going to scream,” said Connie. This time, she didn’t bother with the sorry.

Connie knelt down and opened the coffin. The lid creaked as she did so, and both Tia and Gretchen eyed the basement door. The coffin didn’t hold a body. Only dirt.

“Oh,” said Connie. “You were right. They aren’t jewel thieves. They’re vampires.”

And then the basement door opened.

Mr. and Mrs. Kowalski were actually very nice, although it was weird hearing vampires with Polish accents, thought Tia.

“Jewel thieves?” Mrs. Kowalski, a willowy woman, chuckled as she poured some tea for the girls. “Oh my, can you imagine this, Szymon? Us? Prowling around at night like the Ratman?”

Mr. Kowalski smiled, and he had no fangs. “The Batman. And he’s not a thief, dear.”

“Are you going to kill us?” asked Gretchen. “I don’t want to be a vampire.”

“Why not?” he asked. “It’s really quite nice. Not much fun sleeping in dirt, but you get to meet the most interesting people and live forever.”

Gretchen’s lip quivered.

“Oh, Szymon, don’t give the girl trouble. No, we don’t do that.”

“So you’re good vampires?” asked Gretchen, suppressing a sniffle.

“That’s racist,” said Connie.

“No, it isn’t.” Gretchen stuck her tongue out.

“Girls, friends shouldn’t fight,” said Mrs. Kowalski.

“We’re not friends,” said Gretchen. “She’s weird.”

“You’re weird,” said Connie.

“Yeah, well, when we get home, I’m going to tell Tia’s mom all about everything, and you’re going to get in trouble.”

“So will you.”

“I don’t care. Anyway, not as much trouble as you.”

“I give up,” said Tia. “All you two do is argue.”

“She started it,” they said at once.

Mr. Kowalski held his hand over their faces. Gretchen shut up instantly, but Connie struggled to say a few more words before finally succumbing to his hypnotic thrall.

“Your friend has a strong will.”

“Tell me about it,” said Tia. “Look, sir, I’m really sorry about this. And none of this would’ve happened if Connie knew you were only vampires and not jewel thieves.”

“Tut tut.” Mrs. Kowalski waved her hand in the air. “Youngsters should never apologize for enthusiasm. We will send you on your way with a cup of tea and a story to tell. While we trust you and your friend Connie, we think Gretchen might have to be influenced. We do hope that isn’t going to be a problem?”

“No, I understand. You’re just going to make her forget about vampires?”

“For our own protection, dear.”

Tia leaned in. “Can I ask a favor?”

 

They made it back to Tia’s room with her parents none the wiser. It was a great sneaking out tree, and Tia looked forward to another chance to use it.

Gretchen sat on the bed, reading her magazines. Tia lay on the floor, playing her Gameboy. And Connie perched at the window.

“I think your other neighbors are robots.”

“Connie….” implored Tia.

“Okay, okay.” Connie sat beside Tia and watched her play Tetris until mom came in with another round of soda and pizza rolls.

Gretchen popped several rolls into her mouth and drank a big gulp of RC Cola. She caught Tia and Connie looking at her funny.

“What? They’re my favorites.”

Tia and Connie laughed, and with a shrug, Gretchen joined them.

Inside Dog (short fiction)

Constance Verity

 

Bill tapped his white cane against the floor in a steady rhythm, counting the seconds, the minutes, the just over an hour that he’d been sitting in this interrogation room.

The doors creaky hinges squeaked. Chestnut raised her head and gave a soft growl. He patted her on the head. “Easy, girl.”

Connie set a folder down on the table. “Hello, Mr. Velasco. My name is Constance Verity, and I’m here to help you.”

Chestnut slinked behind Bill’s chair.

Connie’s voice sounded vaguely familiar to Bill, like a not-quite-obscure-character actor he couldn’t quite place..

“Are you my lawyer?” he asked.

“You don’t need one,” said Connie. “Would you like something to drink? I have a water bottle I’m putting directly in front of you.” She set it down and gave him the courtesy of allowing him to reach for it.

“Are you an advocate for the blind? Your name is sort of familiar.”

“No, I’m not specifically here for you. And I’m sort of famous. I just want to clear up that you aren’t a suspect in the theft anymore.”

“Anymore?” Bill laughed. “I can’t see.”

“I knew a cat burglar who was blind who operated out of Rome,” said Connie. “Mr. Velasco, how long have you been working at the museum?”

“Are you a detective then?”

“Occasionally,” she said. “Right now, I’m acting as an outside consultant for various interested parties. The Star of Shamash was on loan to the museum, and everyone’s trying to avoid an international incident. Trust me. This’ll go a lot faster if you answer my questions.”

Bill shrugged. “A little over four months,” he said. “But I’m just an office manager. I don’t handle security.”

“And how long have you owned Chestnut?”

“About a year.”

“And in all that time, has Chestnut ever displayed any unusual tendencies?”

The golden retriever turned her back on Connie and put her paws over her face.

“What’s that mean? Unusual?”

“You’d know what I meant if it was happening.”

“So can I go then?” he asked. “You said I wasn’t a suspect anymore.”

“Just a few more questions,” said Connie. “It won’t take much longer. You know, you almost got away with it. But there was a camera you missed.” Connie held up a pair of photos and tapped them with her finger.

“I can’t see that,” said Bill, annoyed.

“I’m not showing it to you.”

Chestnut raised her head and grumbled.

“This is a photo of Chestnut entering the Star of Shamash display,” said Connie to Bill. “And this is a photo of her leaving the display room. She’s not carrying the Star, of course. That’d be too sloppy.”

Bill laughed. “You’re kidding, right?”

“No, I’m afraid Chestnut has been a bad girl.” Connie glanced through some files. “Chestnut, AKA Kit the Wonder Dog, AKA Shiva the Wonder Dog, AKA Jellybean, AKA Lass, AKA . . . well, you get the idea.”

Connie closed the file.

“Two years ago, I helped take down a circus of crime.”

“What is that?”

“Exactly what it sounds like. One of the members of that circus was a larcenous animal trainer. In the chaos of taking down the circus, he released all his animals into the wild, where they went on the lam immediately.”

“This is sounding a bit far fetched.”

“And I didn’t even mention the chimpanzee forger or the tiger car thief they still haven’t caught.”

“How–”

“They’re very well trained,” said Connie. “Anyway, Chestnut, AKA Kit the Wonder Dog, was one of the escapees. Somehow, she infiltrated the rescue animal society and wound up with you.”

“But Chestnut’s a great dog.”

“I’m sure she is. Very bright. My guess is that she was laying low. She might have remained a law-abiding canine for the rest of her life, but when you ended up with that job at the museum, nature took its course. Or nurture. Not that I’m blaming you. It’s just a terrible coincidence. I can’t say for sure that Chestnut didn’t plan this, but she is only a dog. It’s unlikely that she knew your job prospects.”

Chestnut set her head in Bill’s lap and whined.

“Oh, she’s good,” said Connie. “But we found the Star hidden in the air vent. I don’t know how she unscrewed the vent cover or duct taped the Star to the vent, but, like I said, she’s well trained.”

“Assuming I believe you, I didn’t have anything to do with it.”

“No one thinks you did. This was Chestnut on her own initiative. I don’t think she actually had any plans with what to do with the Star. She just stole it because it was too good an opportunity to not steal it.”

“Why would a dog steal a jewel?”

“It’s all training. You don’t think elephants rob banks because they need the money.”

“Elephants rob banks?”

“Well trained ones do. The thing is, Chestnut almost got away with it. If they hadn’t called me in, and I hadn’t recognized her from our last run in, I think she would’ve.”

Chestnut flattened her ears and growled.

“Sometimes,” said Bill, “I end up with more cash in my wallet than I thought I had.”

Connie nodded. “Thought something like that might happen. Anything else?”

“I found a drawer full of credit cards that belonged to other people once. And a couple of expensive watches hidden in the couch cushions.”

“And that didn’t strike you as unusual?”

“She’s a dog. Nobody suspects the dog of being a criminal mastermind.”

“Mastermind might be taking it a bit far,” said Connie. “And it’s probably unfair to categorize her as a criminal. She’s just a very bright dog that is criminally trained.”

Bill pulled his hand away from Chestnut. “She’s not dangerous, is she?”

“She’s trained to steal, not kill,” said Connie. “Not like that mongoose assassin. Anyway, since you’ve been cleared of any wrongdoing and the Star has been found again, you’re free to go. The question is what do we do with Chestnut?”

“I don’t care. Take her.”

Chestnut lowered her head.

“Mr. Velasco, I think I can curb Chestnut’s instincts so that you can keep her. Now, it’ll probably take a couple of months of deprogramming, but–”

“I can’t own a dog burglar,” said Bill. “I work in a museum.”

“I just assumed that you’d want to keep her.”

“Why would I keep an evil dog?”

Chestnut slinked off to the corner and lay on the floor.

“She’s not evil. Dogs, even really bright dogs, don’t have moral codes. She simply has behaviors.”

“And her behavior is stealing. I can always get another dog.” He stood and used his cane to navigate around the table. He paused at the door. “I just need my job, and it’s a lot of responsibility that I can’t handle right now. I’m not a bad person.”

“No, you’re not,” she agreed. “Do you need help finding your way out of the building?”

“I can manage.” He left, the occasional tap of his cane disappearing down the hall.

Chestnut had somehow slipped free of her service animal harness. It lay in a pile beside her. The retriever gazed up with big gold eyes and wagged her tail twice.

“I can’t keep you.”

Chestnut came over and put her paw on Connie’s hand.

“I travel a lot. You’d be mostly home with Byron, and I don’t know if I can trust you alone with him.”

Chestnut lay down and rolled over on her back. Connie smiled and shook her head.

“Well, Byron does love dogs, but you have to promise me that you’ll cut out the larceny.”

Chestnut barked twice as she spun around.

“Yeah, I don’t believe you, but we’ll work on it.”

A uniformed police detective entered. “Ma’am, they’ve spotted some elephants entering chemical bank.”

Chestnut walked behind Connie. They were turning the corner when she heard the cop ask, “Hey, anybody seen my wallet?”

Connie held out her hand. Chestnut, tail wagging, deposited the wallet in her palm.

“We’ll work on it.”