Sneak Thief (A Dog Park Mystery) (4 page)

They headed for the front gate, a recalcitrant Julia in tow. Honey, Chewy and Kita trotted along with smug looks on their faces.

“I bet
your
dogs never do stuff like that,” Desiree said.

“Does she often take things?” Lia asked.

“Underwear, TV remotes, phones, kitchen utensils, you name it, she'll steal it. She likes to hide stuff, too.”

“You ever try distracting her with toys?” Bailey asked.

“She had a squeaky toy, but it drove me crazy. I threw it out when she chewed it up. She still wants Mommy's stuff. It tastes better than dog food, doesn't it, Julia?”

“Try hiding her kibble around the apartment instead of feeding it to her in a bowl. Finding her food will keep her Beagle instincts too busy to get into your stuff," Lia said.

“Won't the kibble leave crumbs everywhere?”

Lia shrugged, holding her hands out with the palms up. She lifted her left hand. “Kibble crumbs.” Her right hand. “Hundred dollar electronic key fob and your sanity. You choose. Besides, I bet she won't leave any crumbs.”

“Truth,” Bailey said.

As they were loading their dogs into their respective cars, Lia glanced over at the windshield of Desiree's Honda. “What's that?” She pointed to a small silver figure propped up by the driver's side wiper, leaning on the glass. It was peering into the car with its tiny hands shielding its eyes.

The women gathered around the offering.

“How did that get here?” Desiree asked. “Did either of you see anyone around the car?”

Lia and Bailey shook their heads.

“I didn't notice any strange cars, but I wasn't paying attention to the parking lot,” Lia said. “Maybe Charlie or Jose saw something. I'll go back up and ask around.”

“Oh, don't bother,” Desiree said. She plucked the figure off her car and held it up to look at it closer. “He is kind of cute.” She tossed it onto the passenger seat.

“How many of these have you gotten?” Lia asked.

“This is the third one that's just by itself. Then there was that box scene—what do you call those?”

“Diorama,” Bailey and Lia said automatically.

“That's it. Just one of those,” Desiree said. “Whoever he is, I wish he'd show himself. This is starting to get weird. I mean, I was right here. Why didn't he just give it to me?”

“He's shy; he's unattractive or otherwise inappropriate and thinks you'll reject him; or he's a deranged serial killer who wants to drive you bonkers before he finishes you off by carving his initials into your heart with an ice pick.” Bailey ticked these options off on her fingers.

“Gee, thanks for putting that in my head,” Desiree said.

“Why don't you talk to Peter?” Bailey asked Lia. “Maybe he could get fingerprints off this stuff.”

“Unlikely,” Lia said. “He says "CSI" has given everyone unrealistic expectations about what can be done with forensic science and police budgets. And they'd never do it for a case where there is no obvious threat.

“Desiree,” she continued, “have you noticed anything out of place at your house, anything strange? If this guy's a stalker, he may be breaking into your apartment. Check your underwear drawer, see if anyone's been in it. Pay attention to your laundry basket. He could be stealing your dirty undies.”

“Eeeewww.” Desiree grimaced. “You think he's snorting my panties? I'd rather he was a deranged serial killer.”

“I don't know about that,” Lia said, thinking about the deranged serial killer she'd confronted not so long ago. She let Honey and Chewy back out of her Volvo. “But I'm going back up to ask around about strange cars. I'll call you if I find out anything.”

T
he Watcher sat
in his car in McFarlan Woods, mesmerized by the blinking light on his smart phone as he monitored the GPS device on Desiree's car. He toyed with the lock of hair he'd painstakingly collected from her brush, flicking the ends across his lips as he considered his next move.

McFarlan Woods sat next to the dog park. He'd stashed his car there and followed one of the trails to the dog park. The Watcher originally planned a quick dash to her car to plant the doll, then back into the woods where he could see her reaction to the little offering. Once he got there, he realized there was a chance a loose dog in the parking lot would smell him in the woods and expose him. So he sat in his car to see where she was going. Probably home, since she had Julia with her.

The Watcher felt a gaping hole in his chest as her car pulled further and further away from him, a plunge from the heady excitement of leaving his offering on her car.

He'd taken a huge risk this time. Anyone at the park could have seen him, had they chosen to look down at the lot from the ridge where dogs and their owners gathered. His heart pounded in his ears when a meandering Schnauzer yipped at him from behind the fence. Now the capricious organ dropped into his stomach, resuming the familiar dull ache that kept him listless and depressed unless she was around. He could barely eat and was losing weight.

His only relief came when he reviewed his surveillance videos, or when he broke into her apartment to swap out SD cards. He found himself spending more and more time at her place during these excursions. He knew it was dangerous, but it was such pleasure being where she spent her nights, touching the towels she dried her creamy skin with, inhaling the essence of her lingering on the sheets.

Desiree was an indifferent housekeeper and left her bed unmade. This made it easy for him to lay on her bed, share her pillow. He liked to close his eyes and imagine her lying next to him.

The blinking dot stopped moving, pulling him out of his revery. She wasn't home. The dot was miles away, in the parking lot behind Ludlow Avenue. What would she be doing there? It occurred to him that patrons often took dogs into Om Cafe, the metaphysical restaurant above the lot. If he hurried, he could bump into her there. He could do that, couldn't he? It would be an accident. At least, she would think it was.

“
I
'm worried about Desiree
,” Lia told Peter.

They sat in her kitchen, sharing an Edgar Allen Poe pizza from Dewey's while the dogs watched and drooled. Peter ripped a crust into three pieces and tossed them to the dogs. Honey snatched hers out of the air, Chewy snapped at his and missed, then snuffled around the floor looking for it, and Viola sat with a look of disbelief on her face that he would assault her with flying food.

Peter picked up the offending bit of crust and offered it to Viola on his open palm. “Here you go, your highness.” Viola sniffed at the crust, then delicately nibbled it out of his palm. She laid it on the floor and licked it twice, then ate it in one gulp.

Lia shook her head. “When are you going to stop trying to get her to act like a regular dog? It's beneath her.”

“I keep hoping. Why are you worried about Desiree?”

“Someone's been leaving her these little dolls made out of foil, and she has no idea who's doing it.”

“How do you make a doll out of foil?”

“I'm not sure, but it looks like one piece of foil crunched up so that it holds its shape. I bet it's easy if you figure out how. I thought it was cute at first. Now it's getting creepy.”

“What is it that's disturbing you?”

“The dolls are cute and they look harmless. It's just that one popped up while we were at the park today. Someone knew she was at the park or went to the trouble of following her there, and they chose to leave something on her car instead of saying something to her. Why doesn't he just ask her out on a date?”

“I seem to recall leaving plants outside your studio door,” Peter rubbed the back of his neck and gave Lia a wry twist of his mouth.

“That's different. I knew it was you. And it was very sweet. Desiree doesn't have a clue who's doing this.”

“Has anything else happened to make her feel like she's being stalked? Hang up calls, harassing emails, anyone following her?”

“Not that she's said.”

“Anyone showing interest in her lately, someone who may be more into her than she realizes?”

Lia laughed. “That could be anyone. She dates a lot. Strange men are always looking at her.”

“That could be the problem. Some guy probably thinks she's out of his league and doesn't have the stones to approach her. Could be a case of erotomania.”

“Eroto-what?”

“Erotomania. Usually erotomaniacs are convinced that the person they're in love with secretly loves them back but for some reason, has to deny it publicly. They feed off unrequited love.”

“That's crazy.”

“It is, it's a mental disorder. Erotomaniacs usually aren't dangerous. There are lots of reasons for stalking. If she doesn't have an angry ex, or if she doesn't feel threatened by the behavior, it could be someone who's fixated on her but for some reason, doesn't know how to have a relationship. In most of those cases, he doesn't mean her any harm. It could just be a case of terminal shyness and poor judgement.”

“How do you know so much?”

“Part of the job. Stalking can be hard to define. We have to be able to assess whether or not an actual threat is involved.”

“So, in Desiree's case, it may be weird but harmless?”

“I can't say. I don't want to make light of it. She should definitely pay attention to the people around her and write down anything strange, document when and where these dolls pop up. What you've told me is not a lot to go on.”

“I guess I shouldn't worry about her too much. She threatened to taser Charlie today.”

Peter barked a laugh that made all the dogs jump. “I bet he deserved it.”

“He did.”

“You can give her Brent's number. If she's worried, he'll be happy to talk to her.”

“Why not give her your number?”

“Unsolicited attention from the opposite sex is more his territory than it is mine.”

Lia snorted.

“
C
laude left
town and it can't be Al, he's married,” Desiree said as she dipped a plastic spoon into her tub of artichoke hummus. She made a face. “I've got to start bringing my own silverware. I hate the idea of wasting resources. Does anyone realize how much garbage this country creates
every day
?”

“Focus, Desiree. Maybe that's why he can't say anything. Maybe he's pining away for you. What's his wife like?”

“I've only met her a few times, but she always gives me the evil eye.”

“You, the evil eye? What could be the cause of such a phenomenom?” Terry eased down into the chair next to Lia and gingerly tugged his bag of popcorn open, letting out the steam before he offered it to the two women. Tonight he wore “Subduction Leads to Orogeny” splashed across his tee shirt.

“Popcorn, ladies?”