Suckers - J.A. Konrath

“Only one way to find out.”
I picked up the phone.
* * *
“Ms. Cummings? I have your dog.”
“I know. I watched you steal him an hour ago.”
For someone who looked like a mime, she was sure full of comments.
“If you’d like your dog back, we can make a deal.”
“Is my little Poopsie okay? Are you taking care of her?”
“She’s fine. I can see why you call her Poopsie.”
“Does Miss Julia still have the trots? Poor thing.”
I stared at the land mines dotting my floor. “Yeah. I’m all broken up about it.”
“Make sure she eats well. Only braised liver and the leanest pork.”
Julia was currently snacking on a tuna sandwich I’d dropped under the desk sometime last
week.
“I’ll do that. Look, I want to make a trade.”
I had to play it cool here, if she knew I knew about Marcus, she’d know Thorpe was the one
who hired me.
“What kind of trade?”
“I don’t want a female dog. I want a male.”
“Did Vincent Thorpe hire you?”
Dammit.
“Uh, never heard of him.”
“Mr. Thorpe claims I have his dog, Marcus. But the last time I saw Marcus was at an AKC
show last April. I have no idea where his dog is.”
“That’s not how he tells it.”
Nice, Harry. I tried to regroup.
“Look, Cummings, you have twelve hours to come up with a male dog. I also want sixty
dollars, cash.”
Thorpe nudged me and mouthed, “Sixty dollars?”
I put my hand over the mouthpiece. “Carpet cleaning.”
“I don’t know if I can find a male dog in just 12 hours, Mr. Dognapper.”
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