Jan Burke - Kidnapped

I began to wonder if I should call home.

“She also used the crate for transport,” Anna went on. “Or for search situations when there were a lot of other dogs around.”

“In any case,” I said, “a robber wouldn’t know that Altair was in a crate until after he was in the house, right? Most wouldn’t take that chance.”

“No…”

“Look, Anna, do you know if Sheila had any enemies here in town?”

“Other than Ben?”

“Not being her blind follower doesn’t make him her enemy,” I said tightly.

“No, of course not. For God’s sake, I’m not suggesting he would have harmed her. That’s not even in Ben’s nature. She saw him as an enemy, though, I think.”

“Maybe so. Anyone else?”

“No, and even though I spent quite a bit of time around her, she never complained to me that anyone was mad at her.”

I found myself wondering if Sheila was capable of perceiving that someone was angry with her. She had always seemed self-absorbed. Even Altair was a way to get attention for herself.

“You said you spent a lot of time around her?”

“Well…not blaming him for it, but Ben has been gone a lot lately. Sheila was good company.”

I couldn’t imagine it. “What did you talk about?”

She hesitated. “I guess a lot of it was made up. Based in truth to some degree. Your story has made me face that today. She hadn’t been married, so it was her mom who was the battered woman, not her. And what she told me about losing her house in a fire-that was about her mom’s death, too. I don’t think she ever had a child who got lost-although maybe she felt as if she was the lost child.” She paused. “I guess the autopsy will show whether or not she had cancer.”

“Let me guess. She told stories, and you listened in amazement.”

“It’s true-she misled all of us.”

It occurred to me that I might not have been the first person to figure out that Sheila was a liar. Maybe Sheila had cheated someone out of money, or scammed someone in a more serious way. “Okay, let’s look at this another way-who were her friends?”

“She didn’t have that many. I think all her friends were in the SAR group. I never heard her talk about anyone else.” She frowned. “In retrospect, we kind of adopted her, and she seemed to have been very dependent on us, if you know what I mean. She wasn’t someone who liked to be alone. She got people in the group to help her with things all the time. One of our team members all but gave her that place to live. People invited her over for supper.”

“People became her neighbors.”

She dropped her gaze, but said, “Yes. And even knowing what I know now, I’ll miss her.” She took a shaky breath. “I…I don’t think it’s really hit me yet. I can’t really believe this has happened to her, that she’s gone.”

I didn’t say anything.

“She wasn’t a totally lost cause, you know. I think she was experimenting, trying to find her way. Maybe if she had been allowed to live out her life, she would have changed, become a better person.”

“Maybe,” I said, sincerely doubting it. On the other hand, I was certain nobody had the right to use a gun to end Sheila Dolson’s great experiment.

“It’s confusing to me,” Anna went on, “because she did have abilities, and she loved Altair, and I’ll never believe that someone who was that good to a dog was a total write-off!”

I declined to bring up historical examples. What the hell could I say? “She was lucky to have a friend like you.” There, that was honest.

She brooded in silence for a time. I was just about to make noises about getting back to the office when she said, “I understand you have Altair.”

“Yes,” I said warily.

“I’d be happy to take him.”

“You and any number of other handlers, from all I can tell.”

“You’ve been contacted?”

“No, just heard rumors from Illinois.”

She ran a finger along the edge of her saucer. “Did Ben ask?”

“Not that it’s any of your business, but-no.”

She nodded once, as if she had just won a bet with herself. “So I’m offering to care for him until things are settled. Work with him.”

“Bond with him?”

“He knows me. I’ve already worked with him.”

“Sorry, Anna. No can do.”

“Why not?” I could hear a little anger, just held back.

“It’s not up to me.”

She made a face.

“I promised to take care of him until her family or heirs are located. Do you know if Sheila had a will or an attorney?”

“No. No, I don’t.”

We parted company not long after that. I knew she had parked near the Wrigley Building, but she didn’t walk back toward the paper with me. She said she wanted to do a little window-shopping while she was downtown.

I wasn’t sorry that I made the walk back alone.

Not sorry that Altair wasn’t going to be walking with her anytime soon, either. It wasn’t unreasonable for a top trainer to want a dog that had performed so well, a dog she knew. Yet her petulance when I refused had surprised me, shown me a side of her personality I hadn’t noticed before.

The truth was, I probably didn’t know her as well as she knew Altair. All my previous contact with her had been in situations when Ben was with us, and often their dogs joined us as well. I had always found her easy to get along with, but I couldn’t say that she had revealed a lot about herself. And her friendship with Sheila truly puzzled me.

I sighed and told myself to let it go. In all likelihood, I’d never see her again.

Tuesday, April 25

1:35 P.M.

NEWSROOM OF THE

LAS PIERNAS NEWS EXPRESS

BACK in the office, I continued calling phone numbers from Sheila’s notepad. I got lucky on the second call.

“Thank you for calling Big Smile Dental,” the voice on the other end of the line said. “This is Bobby.”

“Uh, hi, Bobby…I’m sorry, I’ve misplaced the name of the dentist I was supposed to ask for.”

“We have four dentists in our office,” he said.

Before he could name them, I said, “This is the one who specializes in children’s dentistry.”

“Well, that would probably be Dr. Arnold Fletcher.”

There are Fletchers all over Las Piernas, but I suppose my reading of so many stories on Caleb’s history the day before made me dumbly repeat, “Dr. Fletcher?”

“Dr. Arnold Fletcher. We have two other Dr. Fletchers here.”

“Oh, are they related to-” I stopped myself from saying Caleb’s name.

“To one another? Yes. Dr. Arnold Fletcher is the father of Dr. Diane Fletcher and Dr. Kent Fletcher. Would you like to make an appointment for your child?”

“Is Dr. Arnold Fletcher in?”

“Not at the moment. Is this an emergency?”

“No. When do you expect him back?”

“Tomorrow,” he said. “But I can’t give you an appointment then-he’s booked up through June. What is the child’s name and age?”

“I don’t think I’ll make an appointment just now. Thanks.”

I ended the call, perhaps a little abruptly. I spent a little time doing Internet searches on Dr. Arnold Fletcher, came up with a rather blah Web site for his practice and the kind of information just about any dentist might have on any site, but clearly he was devoted to children’s dentistry.

Why would Sheila, new in town, without children of her own, call a children’s dentist? If this dentist was the source of those teeth Altair “discovered,” why had Sheila chosen him as her supplier?

I had a lot of work to do on my missing children story, which wouldn’t run until later in the week, but it was a major project.

My curiosity about the dentist would have to wait.