Drool Baby (A Dog Park Mystery) (Lia Anderson Dog Park Mysteries) by Carol Ann Newsome, C.A. Newsome

yard where he'd built a tree house shortly after he moved
    in. At one time he used it for rappelling practice. Due to his infirmity, he hadn't climbed it in almost two decades.
    He accumulated things, as people do. He tended to the tiny and his small house was crammed floor to ceiling with miniature objects. His most recent hobby
    was legos. He spent hours erecting structures on his dining room table while his five cats looked on, often batting at the pieces while he tried to place
    them.
    He housed many books about paranormal subjects. Small crystals perched on all available surfaces, including on top of his computer. Many were arranged
    together in bowls of sand placed in specific locations around the house. He had a statue of Buddha, sitting on top of a box. He put things in the box that
    required divine assistance. The last inhabitant of the box was a fried hard drive a company of Mac specialists had been unable to recover. John had saved
    all the information on the drive and credited a week with Buddha for this miracle. He performed this miracle for free. The next day he found over one
    hundred dollars during a walk in the park and he considered himself compensated.
    John suspected he might need Buddha's assistance now, or at least in the near future, and he had no idea why. Usually he could tell when the people around
    him were in trouble. John could see auras and knew the storm-cloud gray of stress, and the muddy colors of rage and depression. No one around him was
    emitting worrisome colors. That meant it had to be someone he knew online.
    John's physical movements were limited, but he had a wide acquaintance over the
    internet. Some friends of many years he had never met. Some had travelled to Knoxville to see him. He could not travel because sitting in a car, or sitting
    anywhere, for an extended period caused him excruciating pain.
    He could not see his internet friends, but there were ways. His preferred position for meditation was the lotus position, but that had been denied him for
    many years. He apologized to Miko, a Siamese, and Mr. Ray, a tuxedo cat, and removed them from the sofa cushions. He left Diggy and Bear on their perch
    atop the back of the sofa. He lay down, closing his eyes and going through his ritual meditation exercises with the intent of opening himself up to the
    knowledge which would clarify his feeling of unease.
    His breathing slowed as he went deeper into the meditation. Colors appeared to his mind's eye. A dark, dangerous red. A blackish green he associated with
    chemical toxicity, some kind of drug. Muddy grays and browns he associated with depression. Depression settled in his chest like lead, anxiety made his
    heart race. Mixed in were a fogginess of the mind and a warm, healing glow. He allowed himself to experience this cacophony of colors and emotions. There
    was trouble, but also help, support of some kind. Whoever it was, they were not alone. He stepped back from the emotions and waited patiently for some hint
    of identity. He saw flower beds, and smelled roses and rich earth and mulch. He saw hands, tending.
    GreenThumb. The name floated into his consciousness. Bailey, the landscaper. He ended the meditation, thanked Buddha and booted his computer. He logged in
    to the Crystal Bridge forum, where he'd met Bailey several years earlier. He went to his messages and opened an old one from Bailey, then clicked on her
    name to open up her profile. According to the dates on her most recent posts, she hadn't been on since early July. He checked out her last posts. Half of
    the thread was deleted. It was hard to follow, but it looked like Bailey was having a conversation with someone about a fringe theory of reincarnation.
    John was of the opinion that it was never acceptable to commit harmful acts, no matter your motivation. He wished he could see the other side of the
    conversation. From Bailey's responses, the other poster's arguments must have been compelling. Bailey, Bailey, Bailey,