Page 27 of Sean's Sunshine
Right.
And God. If nothing else, Sean could use more people in his life to keep reminding him that the Jesses in this world didn’t need a Sean in their lives.
“Now dinner’s settled,” Billy said with satisfaction, “Randy told me about your convo with Dude’s owner.”
Sean blinked. “Bob?”
“The guy with the Chiweenie that looks like an alligator. You know. Dude the Chiweenie?”
“Yeah.” Sean could concede the dog was hard to forget. “Bob is the Chiweenie’s owner. I didn’t know the dog’s name is Dude.”
“You didn’t know the name of the dog?” Billy asked, looking surprised. “You pet him every day at the park.”
“I knew Bob’s name!” Sean retorted.
For a moment they stared at each other, and then Billy scowled. “You,” he said succinctly, “are a police detective. You don’t think you can learn the name of both the dogs and the people?”
Sean grimaced and studied a thread on his couch. “I, uhm, think of the people as suspects. ‘Bob, white male, six feet tall, one-seventy, seventy-five years old.’ I, uh, don’t really think about dog stats.”
Billy blinked at him. “You mean like ‘Dude, blond Chiweenie, twelve inches tall, twenty-two inches long, twenty-four pounds, six years old?’”
Sean couldn’t help it. The laugh started at the bottom of his toes. “That poor dog,” he said, his voice barely working. “His little legs go flailing, and he keeps trying to catch up!”
Billy held his hand in front of his mouth and turned his head as he laughed like he was trying to hide his mirth. “Man, I feel bad laughing at him! Dude’s daddy keeps feeding the poor thing green beans, and his wife is loving him with bacon treats!” His cackle faded to a manageable level. “It’s okay, though. The dog has alotof love.” He took a breath like he was getting his shit together. “Anyway. So Dude’s dad, Bob, is sort of the pulse of the dog walkers around there. He lives in the neighborhood, right?”
Sean nodded. “Yeah, I know. I’m the one who remembered his name.”
Billy rolled his eyes. “So today he starts to talk to Randy—and my God, how Randy can talk more than either of us.”
Sean smiled a little. “Lord yes. I remember. I was petting the ladies.”
“Isabel and Allison?” Billy checked.
“The golden retrievers.” Sean really loved those dogs. Big and graceful, with gracious smiles for anybody with a petting hand, the ladies, as they called them, got along with all the dogs in the park, even the yappy little ones.
“Yeah, well, apparently while you were getting your jollies with the two blonds, Randy was talking to Bob, and he got an earful. I guess there’s been some epic criming in the area.”
Sean frowned. “What sort of ‘epic criming’ are we talking about?”
“Well, you know how the park’s sort of the neighborhood epicenter, right? So it’s this big rectangle and there’s a main road running along either side, with cul-de-sacs attached?”
“The cul-de-sacs all have thruways to the park,” Sean said, suddenly very, very curious.
“Well, there’s been, like, a rash of thefts in the cul-de-sacs. Apparently Bob told Randy that everything from bicycles to vacuum cleaners has gone missing.”
Sean frowned. “Have the homeowners reported break-ins?”
Billy rolled his eyes, holding his hands palm up in the classic “I should know?” position. “See, this is why you need to talk to the people instead of doing a threat assessment. Randy and Bob apparently were playing supersleuth while anactual police detectivewas sitting right there.”
Sean frowned, thinking about it. “You think we should look into this?”
Billy rolled his eyes again. “You doing anything else?”
Sean humphed. “I can barely walk around the park. Do you really see me running down a guy stealing a bicycle?”
“Well, you won’t be alone, genius. I’ll be your legs. I mean, I got a lot of pent-up irritation—I bet I could tackle an asshole on a bicycle, and it would be no big thing.”
Sean laughed softly, as much as his lungs would allow. “What’s this about?” he asked. “Seriously. I’m not Ms. Marple or any of the other heroines in a cozy mystery. I have no intention of hanging out my shingle and being a PI. What are you trying to get me to do?”
