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

he thought, what have you gotten
    yourself into?
    Something was calling Bailey to his attention. That must mean there was a way he could help. What was it? And how to contact her? He didn't have anything
    but an email address. That was useless. If she was online these days, she'd be posting in the forum.
    He got on his computer and checked telephone listings for Bailey Hughes and came up with a blank. He found a B Hughes and looked up the address on Google
    Maps. The location was near Mount Airy. Hadn't she mentioned Mount Airy to him? That's right, she took Kita there, to the dog park. He dialed the number.
    It was Bailey's voice on the answering machine, but there was no more room for messages. What did that mean? What to do next?
    Miko jumped in his lap and he scratched her head absently while she purred like a Maserati. Pushing wouldn't help. He set the cat down, then went into his
    dining room and surveyed the Lego castle covering the table. It needed some work on the drawbridge. He lost himself in the details of construction and let
    his mind wander as his cats gathered, eyeing the small, colorful pieces.
    The memory emerged slowly, teasing. A project Bailey worked on a few months ago. She built a garden labyrinth with an artist. She'd posted pictures on Facebook. Who was her partner? He went back to his computer, disappointing his menagerie.
    He logged into Facebook and went to Bailey's profile, clicking on her photo albums. The last album she uploaded contained pictures of the labyrinth.
    It was there in the album description. Lia Anderson. He checked Bailey's list of friends to see if Lia had a Facebook page. He saw the photo of the pretty artist
    and felt a jolt of certainty. This was her partner. He clicked on her face. Her profile was public, as he hoped it would be. He was not lucky enough to
    find a cell phone number.
    He could message her, but her posts appeared to be infrequent. She looked like an irregular user. This was a small obstacle to
    someone with his talents. He noted the information she gave about herself, then set to work tracking her down.
    John rubbed his forehead and stared at the information on the screen. Something was nagging him, telling him not to call yet. There was more he needed to
    find out.
    He ran a search on Bailey and came up with two different items. The first was a newspaper article in June which named Bailey as the person who
    discovered a drowned socialite. The second took more time and trouble to obtain. It was a police report from July, charging Bailey with attempted murder in
    an assault on Lia Anderson.
    No wonder he'd felt that warning tingle when he considered calling her. He wasn't likely to get cooperation from her victim. He hacked into the police archives and pulled the file.
    Lia's statement about the attack dovetailed neatly with the posts Bailey had made on the Crystal Bridge forum. Still, he knew there was more to the story than was in the report, or his guides would not be asking him to step in. The arresting officer
    was a Peter Dourson. Also present at the scene was Jim McDonald. He felt a pull as he read this name.

Chapter 20
     
Friday, September 7
     
    Jim was pursuing an all time high score on Angry Birds when the phone rang. "McDonald," he answered.
    "Jim McDonald?" Jim heard a Tennessee twang in the unknown voice.
    "Yes, who is this?"
    "My name is Trees. I'm a friend of Bailey Hughes."
    Jim sighed, mentally. "What can I do for you, Mr. Trees?"
    "I'm sure it must seem strange, calling out of the the blue like this."
    "How do you know Bailey."
    "We've been friends online for years. Mr. McDonald, I found out she's in a jam right now."
    "You can say that." Jim, suspicious, fell back on his taciturn nature. He repeated himself, "What can I do for you?"
    "I'd like to help her."
    "What, exactly do you want to do?"
    "Whatever I can. I'm stuck where I am, but I think there must be something. I'm good with computers. I can do research."
    "How good are you?"
    "I