Page 24 of Evil Bones
Why?
“Some bastard shot this good boy.”
Balodis’s voice brought me back.
“Is Joye capable of doing this?” I gestured at the headless corpse on the table.
Balodis’s shoulders rose, dropped.
“Who knows?”
The Archdale address was in Montclaire, a residential neighborhood behind the Park Road Shopping Center. The house, like most lining the street, was a flat-roofed, single-story affair. Its brick exterior, once red, was painted white. Probably built on the cheap back in the sixties, the place would now be marketed by realtors as midcentury modern.
I pulled to the curb. Balodis and I got out and followed a walkway bisecting a browned-out lawn. On the small porch, two Adirondack chairs flanked a smokeless bonfire pit, the kind you buy at Costco to make s’mores when camping.
Three steps connected the walk to a concrete stoop. The off-centerfront door was gray and had six small square windows stacked on the right. A sticker affixed to the uppermost saidNo Soliciting.
We mounted the stairs. Balodis waited as I thumbed the bell.
A singlebongsounded deep inside.
No one spoke up. No one appeared.
I rang again.
“Yes, yes, yes. I’m here.” Though muted, the voice was obviously male, its owner obviously annoyed.
Locks clicked, then the door cracked open a few inches. A manicured finger jabbed at the sticker.
“Do you not see that sign? Are you unable to read English?”
“Am I speaking to Crawford Joye?” I asked, flashing what I hoped was an engaging smile.
“No solicitors!”
“I’m not a salesman.”
“Good. Go away.”
“We’ve—”
“Get lost.”
Screw engaging. I cut to the chase.
“Do you own a spaniel named Bear?”
“What?” Sharp with surprise.
“We think we’ve found your dog, sir.”
A beat, then the door swung inward a few more inches.
A man stood in the widened gap, fingers gripping the outer edge of the wood. I guessed his height at six feet, his weight at maybe one-forty.
The man’s eyes were a startling cornflower blue that eclipsed every other feature on his pallid face. Thin lips and nose. Weak jaw ending in a pointy chin. Wispy blond hair in swift retreat from an unnaturally smooth forehead.
“You have Bear?”
