Shred of Evidence

Wishbone Lane was a dead-end road, the last property a restored farmhouse used to rehabilitate kennel dogs. I wasn’t here for the dogs. I was here to determine if Sheridan also distributed the heroin that killed my client’s daughter.

I stopped my car.

Along the right of the drive was a fenced-in paddock containing a scaled-down obstacle course. There were jumps and moats, ramps and see-saws, all manner and size of open tubing.

A middle-aged man watched me from the center, a black lab by his side.

Walking over to the fence, I called out, “Sheridan?”

“That’s me. And this is Mule. He’s the most stubborn dog I’ve ever seen.” Sheridan scooped up the dog in both arms and set him down astride a moat.

The dog stiffened.

Shaking his head, Sheridan came to meet me. “I think I could leave the dog there overnight and find him in the same exact position tomorrow morning.”

“Perhaps he has vampire in his blood and he can’t cross moving water.”

Sheridan huffed. “Just plain stubborn. He doesn’t even come when I call the dogs to dinner, just takes his own sweet time. So what can I do for you?”

“What’s with the miniature jumps?”

“Agility training. I teach the dogs to run the course. It’s excellent exercise, builds their confidence and trust, gets their brain working again after the kennel and whatever came before.”

“What’s Mule’s story?”

Sheridan turned to look at the dog. “I don’t know. Animal Control picked him up as a stray. No signs of abuse but he’d been on his own for a while.”

“How did he end up here?”

“After ten days in the kennel without being claimed by the current owner, the Animal Control Officer brings them to me. I’m the local dog psychologist slash physical therapist. Dogs that have been here to the ranch have a one hundred percent adoption rate.”

“What about straight kennel dogs?”

“You don’t want to know.” Sheridan held my gaze. “So, you represent some charitable foundation looking to spread the wealth?”

“I heard about this place, thought I’d check it out.”

“You a reporter?”

“The name’s Harold Brodsky.”

Sheridan smiled. “That still doesn’t tell me what you do.”

I glanced around. “Nice piece of land you have here.”

“If you’re in real estate, I’m not interested in selling.”

“You’d be crazy to give up this location.”

“You aren’t a cop.”

“We should all be so lucky to have a union contract with guaranteed pay increases.”

Sheridan grinned. “So you’re private.”

“That’s what my friends tell me.”

Nodding, Sheridan turned to face the street. “I wonder which of them complained.” He turned back. “See here. I’m fully licensed through the Town Clerk’s Office. I’ve got Health Department approval and a letter from the Zoning Board.”

“You also have a file on the second floor of the police station.”

“Empty.”

I shook my head. “Thin. There’s a difference.”

“First I bump heads with Mule. Then you show up.”

“I’m investigating allegations.”

“People can’t wait to smear someone doing good.”

My nod took in the property. “You have an expensive hobby.”

“People make donations, the occasional charitable foundation. It’s tough to compete with the big guys but I get by. You’re speaking to the President and Chair of NO BAD DOGS, a charitable non-profit corporation.”

“You sound like a very important man. I apologize for not calling ahead to make an appointment. Do you get many visitors?”

“Tom Rice, you probably passed him sitting on his porch, he’ll remember you as my first company all week. Tom isn’t nosy, just likes to sit outside.”

“How do you adopt out the dogs if no one comes here?”

“I don’t. That’s handled at the kennel. Every two weeks the Animal Control Officer brings out a load of new dogs, picks up the rehabilitated ones.” Sheridan paused. “Just what are you trying to get at with your questions? You’re digging a lot of holes but I don’t see it amounting to much.”

“Six weeks ago, a college student died from an overdose.”

“I read about that, very sad.”

“Some people say you supply the dealer on campus.”

Sheridan laughed. “You might have noticed I’m in the dog business. Honestly, do I look like a drug dealer? You see any porn stars draped on my arms, goons hanging from the trees? I have a four-year-old pickup truck in the garage and half the time I smell like dog.”

“Someone will talk. They always do.”

Sheridan turned back towards Mule. The dog was still standing in the same exact spot. “Maybe you need a little grounding to clear your head of all the crazy talk you’ve been hearing. How about once Mule is back in shape, I have the kennel hold him for you.”

“Are you offering me a dog?”

“You’d still have to pay the kennel fees, reimburse them for any medical expenses. In Mule’s case, that wouldn’t amount to much more than shots.”

“You think the company of a good dog would help set me straight.”

His eyes twinkled. “It couldn’t hurt.”

“Thanks but I’ll pass.”

“If you’re worried about the cost, I buy food in bulk at a deep discount. I could pass along the savings. Or if you want to buy your own, I could give you the money instead.”

And Bingo was his name-o. The courts didn’t recognize attempted bribery as a confession but it was near enough for me. “How much are we talking about?”

“Depends on how many dogs you want to adopt.”

“Say I adopted six.”

“Then you’d need a kennel license. It’s a town by-law.”

Sheridan was smooth. If Detective Underhill hadn’t pointed me in this direction I never would have suspected the man standing before me. “How many dogs can I have without one?”

“Three.”

“So say I adopted three.”

“Three dogs, food for a year. Visits to the vet, squeaky toys. Be about ten grand.”

“What if I just took Mule?”

“He’s a good eater. He might cost you ten grand all by himself.”

Mule still hadn’t moved a muscle. “I wouldn’t have to worry about spending money on a leash.”

“Don’t kid yourself. The next time you see Mule, you’ll think he’s a different dog.”

Deciding I wasn’t going to get anything else today, I let him know I wasn’t folding. “Don’t kid yourself. The next time I see Mule will probably be tomorrow when I come back to investigate further.”

Sheridan didn’t even blink. “You’ll make Tom Rice’s day.”

I let Sheridan have the last word and returned to my car. He’d make a mistake or he wouldn’t. Meanwhile I’d pressure the alleged dealer on campus.

Lewis lived on the second floor of a house about two blocks from the college. He sold drugs to pay rent and tuition, support his own addiction to betting big on college sports.

The first thing I noticed when Lewis let me in were the dog toys. They were everywhere. Then I saw the largest television I’d ever seen.

“So what was it you wanted to talk to me about?”

“I’m investigating the conditions in off-campus housing. Are you happy here?”

He shrugged. “It suits me.”

“They allow pets?”

“I pay extra every month, had to put down a larger deposit than usual.”

“Any problems with bugs?”

“No, nothing like that.” He dropped into a recliner, nodded towards the couch. “Take a load off.”

“Thanks.” I wished that television was on so I could see what kind of picture he got. “How are the neighbors?”

“More quiet than I’d find in a dorm. The guy in the house next door, he’s got these floodlights he turns on after dark. I swear, some nights it’s so bright in my bedroom I could probably study.”

“Must drive your dog crazy.”

“Actually, I’m between dogs right now.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Oh Rusty didn’t die. He jumped ship, literally. By the time I righted the canoe he had swum to shore and took off into the woods after whatever he saw in the first place. He never came back.”

“That surprises me.”

“I’ve put up flyers, left word with the pound. What else can I do?”

“Is there any other reason you’d choose off-campus versus on-campus housing?”

Lewis took a moment to think. “It’s easier to park, that’s for sure. You have any other questions?”

I stood. “Not right now. There may be some follow-up later.”

Lewis shook my extended hand. “Perhaps the school can pressure the landlords to keep rent down.”

“I’ll pass along your suggestion.”

As Lewis shut the door behind me, I promised myself I’d be back, if only to see that television in action.

I took note of the red Ford Explorer in the driveway. Lewis obviously didn’t believe in a low profile. Perhaps he used gambling to explain his purchases.

Then it was back to Campus Security. There was no drug problem at the school. They regretted the recent tragedy but she must have brought the illegal substance back with her after a visit home.

I left academia behind to re-enter the real world. Then I changed my mind and swung by the station which was its own kind of cloistered environment.

“Well if it isn’t Harold Brodsky.”

“How come whenever I stop by the second floor, day or night, here you are?” I pulled a chair closer to his desk so I could rest my feet on the edge.

Detective Underhill knocked them off. “That’s because I’m a dedicated professional.”

“No, why aren’t you out on the street solving crimes? They could pay a baboon to sit behind your desk.”

“He’s already busy in the Chief’s office.”

I laughed.

“So what brings you in? Hoping I’ll take you to lunch?”

“Why make such a big deal about it? You’ll put it on your expense report, call me an informant—”

He held up his hand. “Improving liaison relations. LR is very big right now.”

“And then you’ll get reimbursed.”

“In six months at the earliest. The Chief got all new furniture, again, and the department floats into the next fiscal year on what they owe me. But you don’t want to hear about my problems.”

“No, I do. My life sounds so much better in comparison.”

Underhill grinned. “Why don’t you take me out to lunch then. You can always bill it to your next client.”

“Speaking of helping me—”

He blinked. “I don’t remember using those words.”

“I was wondering if you’d made any headway.”

“On which of my fourteen open cases?”

“Denise Elkin.”

Underhill tipped his chair back, rested his head against the wall. “As soon as I recommended you to the family, I wrote that one off as solved.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence but I was hoping for something more tangible.”

“There’s nothing new at this end.” He brought his chair back to the floor, leaned on the desk. “When we weren’t even able to catch Sheridan and Lewis together, the investigation was quietly squelched. We aren’t welcome on school property. It upsets the ostriches.”

“Lewis lives on private property.”

Underhill shook his head. “Actually, that house is owned by the school. Most of the off-campus housing is. They bought the two nearest convenience stores not to mention three liquor stores and the four pizza places that deliver. Education is big business. My hands are tied.”

I shrugged as I stood. “In that case, I’ll be too busy solving this on my own to take you to lunch. Maybe next time.”

“Just keep me informed.”

Since Lewis was the most likely to break as he could cut a deal in exchange for Sheridan, I drove back to his apartment and parked across the street.

I knew Underhill wasn’t as disinterested as he pretended. Being a cop, he was forced to work within a system that didn’t always revolve around justice. He picked the fights he thought he could win and then the department tied one hand behind his back. Sometimes it was both of them.

A young woman wearing a backpack approached the house. When she turned up the walkway to the first floor apartment, I dashed across the street before she finished unlocking the door.

“Excuse me Miss.”

She tensed, spread her keys between her fingers in the classic defense. “Yes?”

I repeated the story I’d told Lewis. “You’re the last person I need to talk to today. Sorry if I startled you but I’m looking forward to getting home.”

“What do you want to know?”

Apparently we were talking on the front steps. At least she hadn’t run or screamed for the police. “I was upstairs earlier. You must find it noisy living under a dog owner.”

“I’ve never known anyone who had such bad luck with pets.”

“What do you mean?”

“Lewis. Every other week he has a new dog.”

“That seems odd.”

“I asked him about it once. He said he can’t bear to use a leash and the dogs keep running off, maybe to search for their previous owner.”

“Previous owner?”

“Lewis adopts dogs from the shelter.” She finally smiled. “You know, typical college student, trying to do the right thing.”

“That’s nice of him.” I directed the conversation back to the supposed purpose of my visit, asked her the same questions I’d posed to Lewis earlier, quickly wrapped it up.

Back in my car, I drove to the nearest parking lot and called Underhill. “Remember how you said you couldn’t prove Sheridan and Lewis ever met? I think I know how Sheridan is passing the drugs.”

“Tell me I can set up a surveillance. Tell me it’s not on school property.”

“Even better. Would you believe town property? Heck, it probably even falls under the jurisdiction of the police department.”

“You just couldn’t give me good news without following it with bad.” He sighed. “Fire away.”

“It’s the dog pound. Sheridan is using the strays that he supposedly rehabilitates at his place. Lewis adopts a new dog on a weekly basis.”

“I don’t suppose there’s any chance that no one from Animal Control is involved.”

“Nobody legit would let the same person adopt that many dogs. Besides, the pound is where money changes hands.” I recalled Sheridan’s description of the process. “Anyone else who happens to be in the office at the time is probably told the large sum is a donation or to cover medical expenses.”

“If there’s any silver lining, we shouldn’t need a search warrant. Heck, they store their old records in our basement.”

“Do you know the Animal Control Officer?”

“Not well enough to vouch for him. He’d certainly have an easier time hiding the inconsistencies than someone on his staff would. The Chief is going to go nuts.”

“How soon can you set up the surveillance? I don’t know how often the transfer happens but Lewis is between dogs.”

“My people would be recognized. We work too closely with the Animal Control folks. Since it’s your case, why don’t you be the one to set up camp? Just let me know when Lewis shows up. If I don’t hear from you by next week, I’ll have a patrol car drop you off some sandwiches.”

“That’s thoughtful of you.”

I spent the next two days parked down the street from the pound. On the morning of the third day I saw a red Ford Explorer approach.

When the vehicle pulled into the lot, I called Underhill.

“Wait for us.”

“It depends how long you take.”

Lewis had been inside for five minutes when I saw him leave the pound with a dog that strained at the leash, a dog that just might have been Mule. Sheridan was right. I almost didn’t recognize him.

The dog certainly wasn’t standing still now.

I pulled in behind the Explorer when Lewis passed.

There was no sign of Underhill.

Lewis drove the speed limit, obeyed all the traffic laws. Apparently he thought he knew the difference between flashy and stupid.

We were getting close to college property and I still didn’t see Underhill in my mirror.

At the next stop light, I tapped Lewis’s rear end.

He came out of the Explorer yelling but stopped when he recognized me. “You.”

I stepped out of my car and closed the distance.

“Glad to see you finally got another dog.”

“What is this? You hit my car.” He turned away to examine his bumper.

I walked up to the window. “Mule.”

Lewis looked up. “What?”

“You adopted Mule. I met him out at Sheridan’s.”

“I don’t know any Sheridan.” He shook his head at whatever damage he saw back there. “I don’t care what the insurance company says. You’re paying my deductible.”

Mule was pacing the backseat frantically. All of a sudden, he squatted. “Your dog is doing his business in the car.”

As Lewis ran around to the door on the other side, I saw the condom of white powder poking out from the dog’s stool.

That’s when Underhill and a cruiser joined us.

I smiled at Lewis through the windows. “Unless you want to spend more time in prison than necessary, I’d suggest you try to remember Sheridan. In detail.”

Though my client of course didn’t get his daughter back, he did get to see some justice. Sheridan, Lewis, and the Animal Control Officer were all sentenced to prison time.

My good friend Detective Underhill was able to close a case and thumb his nose at the political hacks at the same time.

Me, once the check cleared I spent two weeks pricing large screen televisions. I settled on a new printer.