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“Avoid if possible. Convinced the shit had come out of her neighbor’s Pomeranian—that’s Gigi—Ms. Vincent scooped up the poop and proceeded to deposit it on her neighbor’s front steps. As witnessed by said neighbor’s eight-year-old son. That’s Charlie Potter.”
“Don’t know him either.”
“Charlie informed his mother—that would be Kate Potter.”
Miles took a seat at the counter, sipped his beer. “Still don’t know them.”
“The ensuing altercation, which involved shouts, hard language, some shoves, alarmed young Charlie enough to have him call the police.”
“That’s where you came in.”
“I was heading home. It’s on the way.” Since Miles was there, Jake started on a second patty. “Both women were—I’m going to reach back for the old-fashioned—het up. I can’t say I feared for my life, but I did fear I’d have to haul a couple of women in.”
“Not to mention the kid and the dog.”
“Not to mention. The one’s claiming Gigi doesn’t leave the yard unleashed since theonetime last fall the dog slipped through and dug in the neighbor’s chrysanthemums. And the other’s going off about barking and pooping when out comes Charlie, holding the suspect.
“Grab the buns and that bag of chips.”
He gestured to the sliders and the deck before carrying the plate of patties outside to the already smoking grill.
“Now, while I do consider myself well versed in bullshit—you can’t rise to chief of police otherwise—I don’t claim to be an expert on dog shit. But it only takes one look at the size of that dog and the size of the shit to conclude Gigi’s innocence.”
The patties hit the grill and sizzled.
“Did you point this out?”
“I did, in more civilized and professional language. Further investigation—Charlie assists with some insight—reveals there are several larger dogs in the neighborhood, including, Charlie states, a big golden retriever named Stu just down the way who often escapes his yard and enjoys pooping elsewhere.”
Jake flipped the burgers.
“In conclusion I tell Anne Vincent I’ll remove the poop if she agrees to pay for the cost of having the evidence analyzed to identify the breed of the dog it came from. Which is, of course, bullshit. Otherwise, she’ll remove it and clean the step, and Kate Potter will agree not to press charges. I advise her against taking similar action anytime in the future.
“She squawks—a lot—then says she’s going to shoot the next dog that comes on her property.”
“Jesus Christ.”
“Yeah, avoid if possible. I tell her if she does that, she’ll land in one of my cells in a half a quick minute. I put my hard-ass face on for that because I felt like one, and she backed right off.”
He flipped the burgers back on the plate.
Since he knew his friend, Miles had already gotten the condiments and paper plates from the cabinet under the grill.
They sat at the table Jake had built in high school woodshop, doctored their burgers, opened the chips.
“So how was your day?”
“Not as gripping as yours.”
“How’s Morgan doing?”
“Handling it. The day you came in to tell me about Rozwell I walked into Grand’s office, and she’s in there. Crying.”
“Well, it’s a lot.”
“It’s a lot. Then I decide to go into the fitness center for a workout, and I see her on one of the treadmills. Strolling. What’s the point of getting on one if you’re going to stroll?”
He shrugged, ate.
