Carol Clark: Hitched

“But it’s my fault,” she kept repeating.

Jack had rejoined Regan and was standing at her side.

“What do we do now, Regan?” Tracy called out.

“More of the same, Tracy. There might be someone out there who is just waking up and coming out of their apartment for the first time today. We’ve got to go back out and talk to more people. We have to stress to everyone that they should report anything unusual, no matter how insignificant it seems.”

The image of smiling Joyce holding the black-and-white puppy flashed on the television screen behind Regan.

Outside the club, Jay Stone was walking past. The pharmacy closed early on Sundays. He stopped at the door of the club, paused, then resumed walking. It’s silly, he thought. It’s not enough to go on…

Joyce’s life was passing before her eyes. Her left leg was about to give way. She couldn’t kneel down and she couldn’t put any weight on her right foot.

And the dog wasn’t giving up. He was barking incessantly, and seemed more determined than ever to get himself up on the counter. Joyce glanced down at the pot of stew on the stove. If I could just push that over and hit him with it…

Jay walked a couple more blocks, then turned around. I’ll just do it, he thought. It might be crazy, but that girl, Tracy, who came into his pharmacy kept stressing to him the importance of reporting anything unusual.

Joyce tried to scream but her voice was paralyzed. She took a deep breath, held onto the cabinet, crouched down, grabbed the handle of the enormous metal pot, and flung it toward the dog. Lukewarm liquid spewed all over the counter and all over the dog. The pot bounced off Mugsy and landed upside down on the floor.

The pot could now serve as a launching pad for the crazed animal to hop up on to reach her. Except it was slippery.

“Let’s all go back out,” Regan said. “We’ll meet back here at-”

“Excuse me!” a male voice called from the doorway. Everyone fell silent as he made his way over to Regan. She looked at him and waited.

“My name is Jay Stone and I own the pharmacy a couple blocks from here. This girl here with the clipboard,” he said, pointing at Tracy, “came into my pharmacy today. She kept asking if anything at all had struck me as odd lately, anything at all that had happened around the neighborhood. I said no. But since she came back three times, I thought I should come in and mention something that happened this morning. It probably means nothing-”

“What is it?” Regan asked quickly.

“One of my customers is an eccentric older woman who has five dogs, including a dog she inherited from her friend who died recently. Her friend’s dog is very dangerous. Anyway, today she came in and bought an Ace bandage and then looked over a pair of crutches. She obviously doesn’t need crutches so it got me to wondering. She’s a little eccentric to start with, but today she really seemed different. When Tracy showed me the picture of Joyce holding the dalmatian, it made me think of this woman again. She has a dalmatian. Then this afternoon I saw her go up the block with her four dogs. On Sundays, she brings them to Central Park but she always leaves her friend’s dog home because he is so hard to handle. It occurred to me that if Joyce is in some way injured and ended up in her apartment alone, that dog could be dangerous.”

“Regan!” Wally called out.

Regan turned. “Yes?”

“A young girl just called here with an anonymous tip. Said she was with a group who found a purse last night belonging to a woman named Joyce. One of her friends took the money and ditched it on the street. She’s not sure if it’s the same Joyce.”

“Where did she find it?” Regan asked quickly.

“Around the corner from here. On Maple, the little tree-lined street. She said they found it halfway down the block on the sidewalk. Next to a set of stairs.”

Jay grabbed Regan’s arm. “My customer lives on Maple.”

As Cindy screamed, Regan tried to remain calm. “If she’s trapped in there with the dog, we’re going to need something to distract him.”

“I’ll grab a couple of steaks from the kitchen,” Wally yelled. “I’ll be right behind you.”

Regan, Jack, Tom, and Jay raced out the door.

Followed by the entire search party.

“It’s around the corner to the right,” Jay instructed.

They all ran to the corner, turned right, ran down the block to Maple, and turned right again.

“She lives at number 10!” Jay shouted.

“Here it is,” Regan cried. She and Jack raced up the steps of the building, Jay beside them. Jay quickly scanned the names next to the doorbells. “She’s in the basement apartment.” He started buzzing while Regan and Jack raced down the steps, turned, and hurried down more steps to Hattie’s apartment.

Inside, when Joyce heard the buzzer, she was finally able to scream.

“Help me!” she sobbed. “I’m going to die!”

Joyce’s left shoe was drenched, and she felt herself starting to slip. Mugsy was baring his fangs as he kept trying to jump on the slippery pot and hoist himself onto the counter. But Joyce had no strength left. Her left leg was giving way under her.

“She’s in there!” Cindy screamed. “Break down the door!”

The sound of the dog’s frenzied barking and growling was terrifying.

Jack, Regan, Tom, and Jay started to kick the warped wooden door. Finally, the wood started to snap. Jack and Tom threw their weight against it, and the door broke open.

Regan’s heart stopped when she saw Joyce starting to slip off the counter.

Jack fired a shot in the air.

The dog turned toward them.

Jack fired again as Regan grabbed one of the steaks from Wally and threw it toward the bathroom. It landed inside the door. The dog turned his head in the direction of the steak.

“Oh my God!” Regan cried as Joyce started to fall.

Jack flung the other steak into the bathroom. It landed in the tub. The dog dove after it. With his gun drawn, Jack rushed over and slammed the bathroom door shut, as Joyce fell into Tom Belfiore’s arms.

After Joyce stopped crying, she refused to go to the hospital. She insisted on going back to Club Zee to be with everyone who had searched for her.

“And I left there last night without saying good-bye,” she said. “It’s only right that I explain what happened.”

“Allow me to carry you back,” Tom said gently.

Joyce smiled up at him and nodded. He was so attentive and kind, she could barely speak. And good-looking, too! He scooped her up once again, and with his dog accompanying them, they sauntered back to Club Zee.

The television cameras were rolling.

At the club, Wally broke out the champagne. “Joyce, I don’t want you to ever again leave my place unhappy.”

They all raised their glasses to toast Joyce’s safe return.

“Thank you, everyone,” she said. “I never thought I’d make it out of there alive. I owe a debt of gratitude to each and every one of you.”

Tom hovered over her protectively.

On the television behind the bar, a live shot of Victoria Beardsley coming out of her apartment building filled the screen.

“The missing April Bride!” Regan said, surprise in her voice. “No one’s heard from her today.”

A reporter called out to Victoria. “We’d like to ask you a few questions.”

Victoria looked at the camera with a deer-caught-in-the-head-lights expression. She started gesturing nervously.

The man who had followed her out of the building scurried out of camera range.

“That’s Jeffrey!” Tracy screamed as something in Jack’s eyes registered recognition and then disbelief.