Ruff Way to Go Read Online Free PDF Page A

inside. “But...” I waggled my thumb in the direction
of Edith’s house.
    “We need to
secure the scene, miss. Let’s go to my car. You can get into some warm clothes
and give your statement at my office.”
    He ushered
me back out through the gate. There were two white-with-blue-markings Colorado
police cruisers out front, which likely comprised the entire department of our
little bedroom community. Edith’s front door was now wide open, her note to me
no longer visible. Other officers must have been inside, “securing the scene.”
    I yearned
for the safety and familiarity of my own home. I was shivering with the cold
rain, though its intensity was starting to abate. “Can’t we just go to my
house? I can give you my statement mere and make sure my dogs and my mom are
okay.”
    Before the
officer could answer, Edith Cunningham drove up in her black Lexus. She tried
to pull into her driveway, which was blocked by one of the officers’ cruisers.
    She parked
her vehicle at a cockeyed angle and got out as if propelled. “What’s going on?”
she cried to no one in particular, her face pale and her eyes wide. “This is my
house! What’s going on?” She spotted me then and ran toward me, a second
officer stepping forward to intervene.
    “Ma’am,
there’s been an incident at your home,” the officer said solemnly.
    “What do you
mean, ‘an incident’?” She stepped sideways to speak to me over his shoulder. “Allida.
Is it Shogun? Has something happened to him?”
    “No. I
thought he was with you.”
    “He isn’t.
Did somebody kidnap him? Is that why the police are here?”
    I didn’t
know how to answer that, and my head was filled with my own questions. Could
someone have been so intent on stealing the dog that they killed Cassandra when
she happened onto the scene?
    I noticed
then that Edith hadn’t changed clothes since I’d last seen her. Nobody would
have worn white pants while gardening. So who had worn the gardening gloves in
Edith’s kitchen?
    Frustrated
with not getting an answer from me, Edith focused again on the officer. “You
need to ask Cassandra Randon, next door, if she saw Shogun. She called me at
the store an hour or two ago and asked if she could borrow some gardening
supplies. She has a copy of my house keys. I told her to help herself. Maybe
she took Shogun home with her.”
    At Edith’s
mention of Cassandra, it now hit me that Cassandra had changed into jeans and a
sweatshirt. Earlier she’d been wearing a skirt and blouse.
    “I’m afraid
Ms. Randon had an accident, ma’am,” the officer said.
    “Accident?”
    More worried
about the welfare of Cassandra’s daughter than anything else, I asked Edith, “Do
you know where Melanie is?”
    “No. I’ve
been away at my shop. She must be home. With her dad. Someplace.” She was
totally flustered and gesturing wildly as she spoke. Her face was starting to
turn as red as her hair. “I don’t understand anything you people are telling
me! What kind of an accident are you talking about? Why aren’t you letting me
into my own house?”
    The officer
put a hand on her elbow and tried to lead her toward his cruiser. “Come with
me, ma’am, and I’ll—”
    She whipped
her arm free and her eyes flew wide. “Trevor! That bastard! I’ll bet he stole
my dog,” she muttered incongruously.
    The officer
with me gestured at the second officer, who ushered Edith back into the
passenger seat of her own car. He sat behind the wheel and talked with her.
Edith started crying almost immediately and tried to use a cellular phone,
which the officer pulled from her grasp.
    Yet another
officer was on the front porch of the ranch style brick home on the other side
of Edith’s. This housed a couple in their late fifties or early sixties who
were the only remaining people from my childhood in the neighborhood. Harvey
and Betsy Haywood. They had always been so grumpy toward me and my family that
I’d called them Mr. and Mrs. Hatesdogs. Not