Read Sneak Thief (A Dog Park Mystery) Online
Authors: C. A. Newsome
Sneak Thief (A Dog Park Mystery) (33 page)
“The guys from The Comet? Is this about Desiree?”
“Dave figures Julia saved his life. The band is writing “The Ballad of Julia”, which will end with her single-pawed rescue of two dozen hostages. Ed wants her for the band mascot.”
“
W
hat's in the bag
?” Lia asked Peter when she met him at the door.
“Mysterious things,” he answered, leaning over and giving her a friendly peck on the lips.
“No, really.” She reached for the bag, but he held it out of reach.
“Uh-uh-uh,” he admonished.
“Peterrr,” she whined.
“It's a cootie kit.”
“Uh huh.” She gave him a skeptical look.
“I consulted an expert.”
“And just who is this expert.”
“Why, your favorite New Age juju guru. Bailey, of course.”
“I see.” Lia stuck her tongue in her cheek.
“We're going to do a cootie clearing. This is very serious. We need the right atmosphere.” He removed a CD from the bag. “Special cootie-clearing music. If you would be so kind.”
Lia took the CD and popped it into her stereo.
“Ooooooooommmmmmm,” the stereo intoned. “Oooooooooommmm.” Lia raised her eyebrows as the chanting continued. Peter pulled the coffee table into the center of the living room and dropped a pair of Lia's new throw pillows on the floor. “You sit on that side.”
He reached into the bag and withdrew what looked like a miniature pair of cymbals bearing Hindu lettering around the edge and connected by a leather thong.
“And this is?”
“They're a kind of cymbal, called tingshas. You can use sound for purification. He held the thong in both hands with the bells hanging level, a few inches apart. A tug on the thong, and the bells swung together and tapped, chiming in a high, clear note that provided a counterpoint to the Oms on the stereo. Peter remained motionless as the final, faint vibrations faded away.
Lia was charmed.
“Would you like to try?” Peter handed her the bells. “Let the sound die out before you tap them again. You can do that while I set up the rest.”
Lia straightened her back and assumed a meditation posture, legs crossed. She tapped the bells together as Peter pulled a square plastic container out of his bag.
“Tupperware? That doesn't seem very juju to me.”
“Oh, ye of little faith,” he sighed, popping the top off of the container to reveal a multi-colored silk bundle. Peter set the bundle in the middle of the table and gently peeled back the cloth to reveal a pressed glass bowl containing rose petals in the center of a silk scarf printed with an intricate mandala.
Lia was fascinated despite herself. “What's with the bowl of rose petals?”
“The rose petals are for purification purposes. The bowl was my grandmother's.”
“Oh, really?”
“And the bowl has been wrapped in silk to absorb negative energy.”
“Uh huh.”
He withdrew a feather from his bag and laid it on the table.
“What's that?”
“It's an eagle feather.”
“It is not. It's a duck feather.”
“Shhhh. Don't let it hear you. You don't want to damage its self-esteem. Tap your bells. Don't speak.”
“Yes, sir.” She ducked her head to hide a grin as she tapped the bells.
Peter withdrew an abalone shell the size of an ash-tray and set it beside the âeagle' feather. Next he pulled out a cigar-shaped bundle of dried herbs tied together with criss-crossed string, and a lighter. Peter lit the end of the bundle, tilting the tip of the down so the flame fed on the herbs. He blew out the flame and set the smoldering smudge stick in the abalone shell. Smoke curled up in sinuous arabesques. Lia could smell sage, lavender and cedar.
Peter smiled at Lia, mischief in his eyes, as he dipped his fingers into the bowl of rose petals and lifted a delicate chain up until Lia's opal emerged from its flowery bed. The opal dangled and swayed, flashing colors. He held it over the abalone shell and the smoldering smudge-stick, using the feather to wave smoke over the necklace and chain while Lia continued tapping the bells together. When he was satisfied, he set the feather down.
“Is it pure yet?” Lia asked, as serious as a neurosurgeon removing a brain tumor.
“One last step.”
Peter withdrew a five-inch long rod that looked like a small, steel microphone with holes in the bulbous end.
“And this is?” Lia asked.
“A holy water sprinkler. We are now moving into the exorcism portion of our program.”
Lia fell back on the floor, giggling. The giggles turned into full throated laughter until tears ran down her cheeks. She shook her head, speechless with mirth.
Peter leaned over her, supported by one hand on either side of her head, looking down into her face. “Are you making fun of my holy water sprinkler?”
“Oh, Peter. I love you.”
“You do?”
“Yes, I do.”
“Be my girl again?”
“I thought you'd never ask.”
He kissed her, and she kissed him back. Her opal could wait.
Julia the Beagle
Loved the lovely Desiree
Till a bad man came and shot her,
Desi's young life bled away
At The Comet they were cryin'
Over ashes cold and gray
Former lovers were a sighin,'
Swore to make her killer pay
Orphaned Julia was lyin'
By the urn, and she did bay
For the owner Dave to come
And take her home that day.
Paul the preacher he was preachin'
âBout the circle without end
Desi's papa came a-calling
With his favorite Remington.
“You sinners killed my daughter
with your wicked, evil ways.
I will send you to perdition,
For your trespass you must pay.”
Your life will now be over,
But I give you one more chance
If you give your life to Jesus,
You might see that Pearly Gate.
One by one they came a-prayin'
At the hostage taker's feet.
While his gun it was a-pressin'
On Dave's temple slick with sweat.
Julia, she was a dog
And like a dog, knew mean
She heard the voice she hated
Break through her slumberin'
Every dog knows right from wrong
And this was wrong as it could get
So she girded up her dog loins
Her tiny brain was set
Big-eyed Julia was no dummy,
An orphan needs a home
And that wasn't gonna happen
If they blew to Kingdom Come
She identified her target
As she slit her buggy eyes
And crawled beneath the tables
Desi's papa was not wise
To the loyal dog's devotion
Until the bitter end.
When she peed upon his foot
And sent him into conniptions
Dave saw his chance and took it
He grabbed the loaded gun.
Then a SWAT team blew the doors in
And it all came tumbling down.
T
he Comet
and Blue Jay are Northside fixtures. LaBoiteaux Woods Nature Center is also real, though I simplified the landscape for the sake of the story. Belmont Convalescent Center and A. Vasari are figments of my imagination. Scholastic Scoring Systems is also fictional, though it is patterned after my own experience grading short answers on standardized tests.
I
n no particular order
, Thanks to Paul Ravenscraft, for writing the memorial tribute; Dave Cunningham, for allowing me to use The Comet as a pivotal location in this book; Desiree Willis, for having a sense of humor and egging me on as I stained her reputation; Eric Flynn, for being a good sport; She-Who-Refuses-to-be-Named, for fighting the good fight against my random capitals and vanishing quotation marks; my Beta Readers, for their invaluable feedback. I am also thanking The Comet All Stars in advance for recording “The Ballad of Julia the Beagle,” though I haven't asked them yet.
The following members of my mailing list have dogs who were the original thieves of many items in Julia's treasure trove: Joyce Hoffman, Christine Lowe, Donna, Charlotte Gaal, Sherry Pace, Ruth Peltier, Susan Dierker, Marilyn Calhoun and Jessica Townley. Thanks also to Margaret Moore and John Cunningham for their lentil suggestions.
C
arol Ann “C. A.
” Newsome is an author and painter who lives in Cincinnati. She spends most mornings at the Mount Airy Dog Park with her two rescues.
C
arol loves
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if you would like to be notified about future releases by C. A. Newsome. Members of the C. A.'s News list receive exclusive access to Carol's online file of deleted scenes. Other perks from the dog park: dog tips, recipes from Lia, safety tips from Peter, spiritual musings from Jim, quotes from Terry, and Carol's weekly dog meme.
A Shot in the Bark
Drool Baby
Maximum Security
Sneak Thief
Coming February, 2016
Little Man
T
hank
you for reading
Sneak Thief
. I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.
P
lease consider helping
others find this series by leaving a review where you purchased this book. Every one counts, whether it is three words or three hundred.