The Big Chihuahua by Waverly Curtis Page A

mirthless laugh. “Took off the other night around midnight. Scratched at the door until I let her out. Haven’t seen her since.”
    “A brave perro ,” said Pepe. “No doubt going to the rescue of her companion.”
    “Did you report her missing?” I asked. “Call the shelter?”
    “Geri, focus,” said Jimmy G. “There’s much more going on here than a missing dog. The man’s wife is dead.” He turned to Mark. “What have the police told you?” He patted the seat beside him, and when I sat down, he leaned over and said in what he thought was a sotto voce voice, “Always put the client at ease. Make conversation.”
    I hardly thought that talking about his wife’s death would put Mark at ease, but to my surprise it worked. Mark was eager to talk. He stood in front of the fireplace, his elbow on the mantel, facing Jimmy G.
    “They told me they think she wandered into the woods at night and was killed by a wild animal, possibly a bear!”
    “Aha!” said Pepe.
    “That sucks, pal,” said Jimmy G. “Did they tell you anything more?”
    Mark frowned. “No, they were very cagey. Insisted I should drive over there to talk to them. I was just leaving.”
    “Are you sure you’re in shape to go?” I asked. “Don’t you have anyone to drive you?”
    “No,” said Mark, waving away my concern. “As you recall”—his tone was bitter—“my wife was already dead to me. All that’s changed is that she’s really dead now.” He paused and looked at me suspiciously. “Did you ever deliver my message?”
    “Of course we did,” I said.
    “And?” Mark looked eager for the first time.
    “She said she really missed you.”
    “And Fuzzy! Don’t forget Fuzzy!” said Pepe.
    “She wanted to come home, but she believed she had to go through another level of training before it would be safe for her to return. And in order to do that, she had to make another payment.”
    “I knew it!” said Mark, turning away, teeth clenched. “They were just after our money!”
    “She looked good. She looked happy,” I said. Mark was facing away, so I couldn’t see his reaction.
    “So you see,” said Jimmy G, getting up and going over to Mark. Although not tall, Jimmy G had at least two inches on Mark. “We’ve come to collect our fee.”

Chapter 16
    “You’ve got a lot of nerve!” said Mark, whirling around, his fists clenched. “My wife is dead and you’re asking me for money.”
    “Hey!” said our boss, putting out his hands in a placating gesture. “My operatives”—Jimmy G gestured at me and Pepe—“they are just trainees and so they neglected to collect the deposit on the first visit. According to our standard terms, you must pay half of our fee in advance and the other half upon completion. Seems to Jimmy G you owe us one thousand smackeroos.”
    “How do I know they actually completed the task?” asked Mark.
    I wondered about his anger. Easier to get mad than sad. My sister Terry had always been angry after our parents died. “And what do you mean trainees ? I wanted licensed PIs. I need them to testify in court.”
    “What do you mean testify in court?” I asked. The idea both thrilled and terrified me.
    “Geri, did I ever tell you about my day in court?” asked Pepe. “I was the expert witness in a case of dog-food tampering.”
    “Hush, Pepe,” I said.
    “I’ve filed a suit against Crystal Star,” Mark said. “For alienation of affection and fraud. And now I’m going to add wrongful death. I don’t know how, but I know they were responsible.”
    “All the more reason to pay our fee,” said Jimmy G, taking a step closer to Mark. “You can keep us on retainer for an additional five hundred dollars.”
    “Look!” said Mark. He pushed his hands toward Jimmy G but without actually touching him. “I’m suing for a half a million. My lawyer thinks we have a good case. I’ll pay your agency a commission. Ten percent of whatever I get. After legal costs, of course. As long as