Whiskey on the Rocks by Nina Wright

And it consisted of an art-history student and a child.

    “And Officer Roscoe,” Jenx reminded me.

    “Officer Roscoe’s in love.”

    Jenx bristled. “He’s a neutered professional.”

    The door swung open. Brady and Chester shook their heads at us.

    “Roscoe’s still on the case,” said Brady. “But Abra’s too fast. No way I was going to crawl after her through those brambles on Schuyler Street.”

    “What do we do now?” I asked.

    “Wait for Roscoe.”

    “And if he can’t find her?”

    Brady patted my shoulder. “Roscoe always gets his man.”

    “This is no man, Brady. This is an Afghan hound.”

    Chester suggested we go home. “Maybe she’s waiting for us.”

    Jenx whispered in my ear, “Take no chances: double up on poop patrol.”

     

    When we pulled into the driveway at Vestige, it was nearly dark.

    Furious as I was with her, I had hoped to see Abra dancing in my headlights. Instead, I spotted what looked like a large envelope duct-taped to my garage door. Chester didn’t wait for the vehicle to come to a complete stop. He leapt out and ripped open the envelope.

    “What is it?” I reached for what he was holding.

    “Not so fast! You’ll smudge any prints that are on it,” he said.

    I noticed then that Chester wore surgical gloves.

    “Where did those come from?”

    “I asked Brady for a pair before we left. Just in case.”

    He waved the note at me.

    “This is bad news, Whiskey. Somebody kidnapped our dog.”

 

Chapter Twelve

    I don’t know which impressed me more—that Chester loved Abra enough to claim joint custody, or that someone would go to the trouble of kidnapping her.

    “Technically, she hasn’t been kidnapped,” I told Chester after he’d held the note up so that I could read it.

    “Dognapped, then,” he said.

    “No. This says she went willingly.”

    “Abra would never do that!” Chester cried.

    But I knew better. I just wondered what they’d used as bait.

    “Technically, this isn’t a ransom note because they’re not demanding money,” I explained.

    “They’ve got Abra, and they want something from us! That’s ransom!”

    Any minute now, Chester would start jumping up and down.

    “Read it again!” he shouted.

    Aloud I read, “‘We have your dog. No force was used. She came willingly—’”

    Chester made a rude noise.

    “‘—and is unhurt. For now. We assume you want to keep her that way.’”

    Chester said, “Call Jenx! Or, better yet, get back in the car and drive to Police Headquarters. They need this note as evidence!”

    “Evidence of what? We already know Abra’s missing. This doesn’t tell us anything. It doesn’t even mention the purse or—you know.”

    “These people want something!” Chester insisted. “Why else would they duct-tape a note to your door? Why else wouldn’t Abra come home?”

    I could think of several reasons Abra wouldn’t come home. Leo wasn’t here anymore, for starters. Although I fed and cared for her, our primary bond was gone. And then there were her criminal tendencies. The only difference this time was that she hadn’t had to find a purse worth stealing; the cops had conveniently provided one. They had even helped her polish her skills.

    Chester said, “You’ve got to report this so Brady can put Officer Roscoe on the case!”

    I reminded Chester that Officer Roscoe had punched out for the night and was probably snoring under Brady’s desk by now. I, too, was troubled by the note, but if someone wanted something in exchange for Abra, they’d have to be more specific.

    Frustrated, Chester started hopping from one foot to the other. “For the love of Abra, call Jenx now!”

    Even though his mother was back at The Castle, I knew I couldn’t just send Chester home. He was part of this now. I led the way into my kitchen. Already the house seemed ominously quiet without Abra, or the threat of her.

    I assumed that Jenx would have switched the phone to Magnet