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Authors: Amanda Cross

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BOOK: The Puzzled Heart
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And so, the next day, after her class, Kate picked up the car from the garage and Banny from the apartment. She had called and been told she would be welcomed by the owner herself, Dorothy Hedge, daughter of the right-wing mother, sister of the son. “A Saint Bernard!” the owner had exclaimed. “What a brave woman you are. I raise Norwich terriers.
They love big dogs; I suspect they think they’re big themselves. So come right along.”

Kate parked Banny in the backseat, but it soon became clear that Banny had no intention of staying there. She squeezed through the space between the two front seats and plopped herself in Kate’s lap. Kate pushed her onto the other front seat when they stopped for a light, and Banny tried putting just her head on Kate’s thigh, but that interfered with the gearshift. So she went back to Kate’s lap and flattened herself, more or less, under the steering wheel. It was far from a safe arrangement, but it had its comforts. Kate found herself talking to the dog, and checking the directions out with her.

Rather to her surprise, Kate found the right turn off the parkway, and after that it was just a matter of counting lights and then mailboxes. They pulled into Dorothy Hedge’s driveway, clearly marked with a sign (
HEDGE KENNELS
), to a cacophony of barks punctuated by a cheerful female voice shouting “Quiet, quiet, you beasts,” to no effect whatever.

As the owner of the voice approached them, Kate had the impression of someone enjoying herself in a ritual that had meaning only for the participants and was never meant to change immediate circumstances. Dorothy Hedge was a large, hearty woman, her booming voice natural, Kate felt, one that would be so even in a job that did not require it. She welcomed Kate with a vigorous handshake and Banny
with some mild roughhouse. “Aren’t you adorable,” she said.

“I supposed that owners of dog kennels were rather restrained in their enthusiasm,” Kate said, smiling. “How nice to see someone so frankly happy about dogs.”

If Dorothy Hedge thought this a somewhat odd remark, she did not show it. “It’s easy to be boisterous around dogs,” she said. “They don’t have principles, only affections and canine opinions about sensible things. Did you want to see the boarding facilities? Not,” she added, “that I recommend boarding a dog this young, but doubtless you have your reasons. Around this way.”

Kate found the boarding arrangements quite impressive, and had no trouble saying so. Each boarding dog had a large outdoor cage, attached to a much smaller sheltered area, a sort of lean- to doghouse.

“Once they’re at home here, and unless they’re particularly unfriendly types, I let my dogs run together in that big fenced-in area there. But not this little girl, I think; she’s too likely to be bullied, or to feel frightened even if not bullied. Have you had her long?”

“No,” Kate said. “And I don’t plan to board her in the near future. But since I’m often called away suddenly, it seemed sensible to have all the arrangements in place for such an eventuality.”

“Very wise. Too many people think they can dump dogs as though they were furniture or a package. The
poor things get off their feed and mope. Now this little girl will have been here before, and she’ll know you and I have met and talked. That matters. Would you like a cup of tea?”

“I’d love one, thank you,” Kate said, happy to have been offered a chance for further conversation. Though how she was to get from dogs to this woman’s bigoted mother she could not imagine. She followed Dorothy Hedge around to the door, but hesitated, with Banny at her heels.

“Oh, bring the baby girl,” Dorothy said. “I just saw her do a wee-wee, so maybe we’re in luck. Anyway, if I had a dollar for every time I’d wiped up dog pee, I’d be a wealthy woman, I assure you. Let’s go into the kitchen and I’ll make the tea.”

It was a large, country kind of kitchen, and Kate sat at the table, taking Banny onto her lap after the puppy kept jumping up against her. “I know it’s silly,” Kate said, “but I wonder, if she sits in my lap now, will she expect to when she weighs over a hundred and fifty pounds?”

“Take her to training class, my dear, as soon as possible. She’s got to learn to do what you say, and soon, before she’s bigger than you are.”

“We are enrolled in a training class,” Kate said, feeling as though, like Alice, she had become quite a different person altogether, discussing dogs this way, “but so far we’ve mainly been doing standing-up things.”

“Well, the command
down
will soon come into it.
Enjoy her, my dear. There are few more utterly satisfying things than a puppy. And she’ll add a dozen years to your life.”

But will she add years to Reed’s life? Kate thought, but did not say. Dorothy, as she had asked Kate to call her, promising to call Kate Kate in exchange, poured the tea from a teapot around which was a knitted tea cozy. I have come to something out of
Country Life
, Kate thought, sipping her tea. Banny slept in her lap.

“What is it you really want from me, my dear?” Dorothy asked, sipping her own tea and savoring one of her own cookies. Kate had not felt up to trying one, afraid she might choke on it.

“What do you mean?”

“My dear Kate, if you have had that adorable puppy for more than a week, I’ll eat my hat. You also don’t know anything at all about boarding dogs; you haven’t asked a single question, intelligent or not.”

“I’m an observer,” Kate said, rather defensively.

“I likewise. I don’t know where you got Banny, but I’m willing to bet this house against your car that she’s on loan. The question about her being in your lap as a big dog was cute, but, my dear, big dogs don’t try to sit in your lap, any more than big people do. Little dogs are a different matter. But even my Norwich terriers have too much dignity to jump into anyone’s lap, and they’re not that enamored of being picked up either. All that might have been explained away, but it’s clear you’re a nervous wreck, and that
you think there’s some way I can help you. What is it? Do you want to leave Banny with me while you straighten out whatever mess landed you with her? I’ll need some sort of contract, but I’m willing. Or is it something else? How did you hear of me anyway?”

Kate sat there, stroking Banny’s soft fur. She had, it seemed to her, only two choices. She could get up and leave, or she could begin some sort of approach to the truth. The woman already knew her name. Perhaps it would be worth trusting her a little. After all, to leave would accomplish nothing.

“Let me help if I can,” Dorothy said. “I looked you up in
Who’s Who
before you came, assuming you’re who you say you are. I find it a useful reference in this business, so don’t look so surprised. You’d be amazed to learn how many people claim to be someone well-known when they arrive with a dog. Their motives are varied, but usually sordid. A few questions soon settle the matter. I’m ready to believe you’re who you say you are, though you’re not here for doggy reasons. What can I do for you?”

“I came about your brother,” Kate said, feeling totally idiotic. She had never felt so powerless and devoid of personality in her life. It was a combination of despair, sorrow, anger, and helplessness, a wicked brew.

“My brother? Kenneth, the college boy? That’s right, he’s still matriculating at the place where you teach. Why didn’t I think of that right off the bat? Kenneth’s a bit late to be a college boy, but then he’s always
been backward about everything, a true mama’s boy. Is he a student of yours?”

“No. I’ve never met him. He wrote a letter to the college newspaper.”

“Ah, I see. Promulgating all the old family values and old-time morals, which mostly add up to supporting the rich, the male, and the white, though that’s probably not the right order. Look, did you agree with his letter?”

“No. I thought it quite mad. But it did cause me a good bit of concern.”

“My dear, of course it did. Ken is fifteen years younger than me, and thirteen years younger than my sister. He was an afterthought, and not a happy one, in my opinion. But he was male. My mother felt like Sarah: God had blessed her at last. My poor sister ended up in one of those cults where they tell you what to do and who to marry and what to think every minute of the day, exactly like home, I would have thought—but at least it wasn’t home. She had got in the habit of being told what to think, I guess, and couldn’t break it; I just got out. Our father died after Ken was born; I suspect he died of syphilis, except that no one seems to die of that anymore. Well, as you may gather, it’s not your basic happy family. Whether it represents true family values, I don’t know, but I suspect it does: general misery all around, unless you can join in the assurance that you are absolutely right about everything, no questions permitted. Tell me something about yourself.”

“You know what’s in the reference book. All I can tell you of any importance that isn’t there is that I’ve acted, from time to time, as a detective. Purely amateur. But,” Kate added, more to herself than to Dorothy, “my skills in that area seem to have gone with my self-confidence.”

“Kate, my dear,” Dorothy said, “you’re obviously in some kind of trouble, and what that trouble is is none of my business. On the other hand, you came out here to see me with a puppy you seem to have acquired in the last twenty-four hours, so I may be allowed to assume that you haven’t come about the dog. If it was primarily a kennel you wanted, there are others nearer the City—not as good, I admit, but adequate. Why did you come to me?”

“I’ve had her a few days, actually,” Kate said, stroking Banny. “And I have to admit I’m hooked, although I don’t think I’m going to be allowed to keep her.” And to Kate’s embarrassment, her eyes filled with tears.

“Let me put it this way,” Dorothy said. “Either you’re the greatest actress since silent films, or you’re in deep trouble. Don’t tell me if you just need to wail, not that I won’t sympathize, but you’ll just end up hating me and yourself for so uncharacteristic—I’m guessing—a confidence. But if you came here for a purpose, why don’t we discuss what it is?”

“It’s about your brother.”

“Ken? You mean you do know him after all? Don’t
tell me you’re involved in any way with Kenneth, unless he’s blackmailing you or trying to bully you into giving him a passing grade. Otherwise, I shall have misjudged you badly. Very badly.”

There was a honking from outside. “Ah, the Carlisles, come for their bull terrier. And not a moment too soon, I assure you. That dog gives new meaning to the verb
to chew
. You just rest here, and think about what you have to say and if you want to say it. I’ll be back soon.”

Dorothy went out of the kitchen door. Kate could hear voices in greeting, then a moment’s silence, and then human screams of welcome. Kate went to the window and saw a dog with black spots leaping up and down in joy, running to the man and woman who had come to pick him up, then back to Dorothy (quite a tribute that, Kate thought), then back to his owners. Kate saw Dorothy present the man with what was clearly a bill, since the man took out his wallet, extracted a check, and made it out, leaning on the fender of his car. Hands were shaken all around.

When the man opened the front door of his car, the bull terrier leapt in and had to be dragged out and forced into the backseat. “I’ll sit with you, Doc,” the woman said, joining the dog in the backseat. Dorothy waved as the car pulled out.

I am certainly learning something about the dog world I wouldn’t have dreamed of knowing a few days ago, Kate thought. I shall have to tell Reed. And then the panic in her gut returned.

Dorothy came back in, pausing to place the check on a desk in the large kitchen. “Like so many dog owners, they are covered with guilt for undertaking any adventure that doesn’t include Doc. Between those people who acquire dogs and then simply dump them, and those who treat them better than most people treat their children, I don’t know which to condemn more. But at least this puts money in my pocket, and the dog doesn’t suffer. I hate to see dogs suffer. Speaking of suffering—mine—let’s take this little lady out now that she’s woken from her nap. Pees follow sleep in puppies. Remember that, at least as long as you have this one.”

Kate carried Banny outside. The dog immediately confirmed Dorothy’s wisdom by squatting. Kate thought how nice it must be to know absolutely everything there was to know about one subject, even dogs. Literature, somehow, never lent itself to such assurance; detecting even less.

Suddenly, Kate remembered Harriet’s telling her that she might well be followed everywhere. Had she been followed here? There was no sign of anyone, but if she had been seen entering this place, surely Dorothy’s mother and brother would be suspicious that she had picked this particular kennel. Might it not be best to keep the visit as purely doggy as possible? On the other hand, Kate mused, if she was followed and they knew she had met Dorothy Hedge, why not take the opportunity to get Dorothy on her side. After all, if Dorothy were secretly in cahoots
with her family, while denying she had anything to do with them, then she would know what was going on and would hardly need Kate to tell her. The only possible flaw in this reasoning would be if Reed’s kidnappers were not in any way connected with Dorothy’s family, if her family did not know of the kidnapping, and if Dorothy, secretly working with them, were to tell them the story, thus further endangering Reed. Somehow, this seemed too farfetched, even for Kate in her present mode of acute suspicion. She decided—not for the first time, she wryly told herself, but never wholly wrongly either—on trust.

Still, one might ask a question or two. Suppose this woman said, “I’m not a feminist, but I believe in equal pay.” Would one want to trust someone capable of such an answer with help against a violently antifeminist group? No, Kate thought, probably not.

“What do you think of feminism?” Kate asked. If Dorothy thought that question odd, she gave no sign.

“What do I think of it? It saved my life, that’s what I think of it. If I hadn’t run into feminism when I did, I’d still be wondering why I felt my family to be so wrong when everyone else seemed to be on their side. Suddenly, everyone else didn’t seem to be on their side. All that I’d been feeling, it turned out, others had been feeling; it was deliverance. Judging from the bits about you in
Who’s Who
, I gather you’re something of a feminist yourself. Am I wrong?”

BOOK: The Puzzled Heart
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