Page 59 of Danny Hall Gets a Lawyer
“I dunno.” I tried to think of pug names. “Pugsly? Pickle?”
“Not even close,” Wilder said. “Alexander Hamilton.”
I laughed so hard I choked on my beer, and Wilder had to slap me on the back so I could breathe again. I was still laughing when Chase walked in the front door. He leaned around the frame of the living room door, brow creased, and said, “Hey guys, did Harlan get a dog or something?”
Wilder leaned forward, head tilted. “Not that he’s said. Is he still out there with his flashlight?”
Chase nodded. “Yeah, but this time he’s wandering around and calling for Scooter, so I figured he must have a puppy or something.”
Wilder and I exchanged a look, and I got a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. “Ah, shit,” I said. Just when I’d thought this week couldn’t get any shittier, here was the universe sayinghold my beer. I heaved my ass off the couch with a sigh and stood. “Someone had better go see what the deal is. Wilder, you coming?”
Chase’s brow creased. “What’s the problem?”
Of course, I realized. Chase didn’t know. It would have been before he and Cash moved in. But yeah, there was one hell of a problem.
“Scooter was Harlan’s old bloodhound, and he’s been dead for well over two years.”
Chase threw me a “what the fuck” expression, and we trooped out to the front porch to see what the deal was.
Harlan was a pain in my ass. He’d cut down my grandma’s tree, and he shouted at us any chance he got. But all of that stopped mattering when I saw the state of him. He was wandering around in his robe, his flashlight reflecting off the leaves of the low bushes in his front yard. Harlan’s hair was sticking out from his head in a wild halo, his robe was undone, and he was barefoot. It was a far cry from his normally put-together self, and clearly whatever was going on, it wasn’t good.
My unease grew as he called, “Scooter? Where are you, boy?”
I flicked on the porch light and it buzzed and came to life, and the next thing I knew the flashlight was shining right in my face. “Have you boys seen my dog?” Harlan asked. His voice shook, and he was nothing like his normal cranky self. If anything, he sounded scared.
I stepped off the porch with Wilder and Chase following. “Hey, Mr. Whittaker.”
“I can’t find Scooter!” he said, moving into our yard and swinging the flashlight from side to side. He crouched down and shone the light under my truck, like the dog might be hiding there.
The rattle and roar of Cash’s dirt bike cut through the night air, and a minute later he pulled up into the driveway behind my truck. He dismounted, pulled off his helmet, and ran a hand through his hair. Harlan stood and directed the beam of light right at his face. Cash blinked and put a hand up to shade his eyes, his expression very clearly saying,what the fuck?
Harlan squinted at Cash, then turned to the rest of us and trained his flashlight on Chase. “What… what? How are there two of you? Is this some kind of trick?” He pointed accusingly between the twins, the flashlight shaking.
“Chase and Cash are twins, sir,” I said. “You’ve met them before.”
Harlan was definitely out of it. I didn’t know if he’d been drinking or maybe lighting up, but he was obviously confused, so I figured it was best to mind my manners in case he flew into the kind of rage that had led to him cutting down our tree.
Harlan looked between Cash and Chase again like the concept of twins was a brand-new one. “I’m sure there was only one of them before,” he said, but there was a thread of doubt in his voice.
“Chase and Cash have always both lived here, I promise,” I said.
Cash bit his lip and his brow furrowed. He hurried to stand next to Chase and whispered something in his ear, nodding at the flashlight.
“Harlan’s looking for his dog,” Chase said.
The crease between Cash’s brow got deeper and he whispered something else.
“Yeah, we know,” Chase said quietly. “It’s whack.”
“What are you whispering about? What’s going on? Where’s mydog?” Harlan demanded. His voice cracked, and his bottom lip trembled dangerously.
Ah, shit. How was I meant to tell him his dog had passed? I didn't want to upset him further. I glanced over at the tree stump, and inspiration struck. “Hey, I bet your dog’s just off chasing squirrels.” It was a bullshit line and I didn’t think for one minute he’d fall for it, but I was desperate, okay?
But Harlan blinked and then slowly nodded, a shaky smile appearing. “He does love those darn squirrels.”
Wilder spoke up then. “How about I take you home to wait for him?” He stepped forward and looped his arm in Harlan’s elbow.
Harlan took a step but then paused. “I can’t leave Scooter out all night.”
