“Right,” Savannah said, running her hand over Rosemary’s hair. “Hey, what’s Craig doing?” she asked, staring into the distance behind Colbi.

  Colbi turned. “I don’t know. Is he arresting that woman?”

  “Sheesh, I wonder what she did now,” Savannah muttered.

  “Do you know her?”

  “No, but she keeps sort of hanging around where I can see her. She was just over here when she noticed Arthur wasn’t at his station and she went sort of berserk.”

  “Arthur?” Colbi said. “I wonder why?” She looked around. “Where is Arthur?”

  “He drove some people to the clinic. Their dog needs emergency surgery and Bud’s meeting them there.”

  “Surgery?”

  “Yes.” She chuckled. “From what I hear, Rags diagnosed the dog with a throat problem.”

  Colbi raised her eyebrows. “Oh?”

  “Yeah. The people were ready to put her down. But Michael…” she grinned. “…and Rags believe she can be saved, and he sent them to the clinic for surgery.”

  “Wow! Exciting day.”

  Savannah nodded in the direction the woman had gone, saying, “And she seems to have a fixation with Arthur.” She giggled. “She dumped a plate of food on the ground earlier.”

  Colbi looked in Craig’s direction again. “Oh, she’s the one? I heard about that. And some dogs cleaned it up?”

  “Yes.” Savannah’s face changed. “Uh-oh, here she comes again.”

  Savannah and Colbi watched as she stormed toward them.

  “Will he be coming back here?” the woman demanded.

  “Who?” Savannah asked, playing dumb.

  “That Spence kid.” When she sensed that Savannah wasn’t eager to respond, she said, “Hey, lady, I’m a Spence too, and I’d better get what’s rightfully mine, and soon, ’cause I sure need it.”

  When Savannah heard Teddy crying, she turned and saw a bigger boy pulling at the truck he’d been playing with. She started to head that way to defuse the situation, when Colbi said, “I’ll take care of it.”

  “So will he be coming back here?” the woman asked again.

  Savannah started to give her the brush-off, when something clicked. She asked, “Wait, are you Missie Spence?”

  The woman stood up straight. “Oh, so you know me, do you? From the lounge in Frisco? I did a couple of gigs there. Did you hear me sing?”

  “Uh—no. You’re a singer?”

  “When the opportunity strikes, I am.”

  “So you’re Arthur’s—what, cousin?” Savannah asked quietly.

  “Yes I am, and I probably wouldn’t even have remembered that or cared, except for the publicity all over the newspapers a few years ago when his dear mother—my aunt by marriage, you know—and her new husband were raked over the coals on the front pages of all the newspapers. I even saw them on TV. Oh yes, they were getting all the publicity I’d always hoped to get, but not for the same reason. I wanted stardom—you know, for my singing and acting. But no, I ran out of money and could no longer pursue a career, and Arthur, the poor, abused boy—he gets all of our grandfather’s inheritance.”

  Savannah glanced at the playground. When she was sure that all was going smoothly at the moment, she turned back to face Missie. “So the money Arthur’s mother inherited when his father died was family money, not Arthur’s father’s money to disperse?”

  “Right,” Missie said, exaggerating a nod.

  “What’s going on?” Craig asked, walking up to the two women.

  “What do you want?” Missie snapped. “I’m not bothering anyone.”

  “Did you enjoy your meal?” Craig asked.

  “Yeah, I guess. I’ve had better.”

  Craig smirked for Savannah’s benefit. “So is she…” he started.

  “She’s fine. Craig, you might want to hear what she’s telling me. Did you know this is Missie Spence?”

  “Yeah, that’s what she said,” Craig acknowledged.

  “She’s Arthur’s cousin,” Savannah said.

  “Oh!” Craig stared intently at the woman. “Missie Spence. Now I get it. Hey, we’ve been looking for you.”

  “Yeah, what for?” she asked.

  “Craig,” Savannah interrupted, “Arthur might want to hear what she has to say.”

  “Why?” he asked suspiciously.

  “Well, maybe he got all that money by some sort of illegal means—I mean, not that Arthur did anything wrong, but it sounds like maybe Missie’s father should have received something from that estate.”

  “Oh, he got something, all right,” Missie complained. “He got booted out of the house. We both did. I was just a kid, but I remember the day Grandpa and Arthur’s father ordered us out—you know, to fend for ourselves.” She began to cry. “No servants, no cooks, nothing. We were allowed to take only what we could carry.”

  “Why, Missie?” Craig asked, his tone mellow. “Why would they do that?”

  “Oh, my uncle was Grandpa’s favorite. It was so obvious. Dad was an artist and he died on the streets with a bottle in one hand and a paintbrush in the other. His art’s selling now. Not as well as Peter Whitcomb’s, but I’ve put all of it that I could find in a gallery and it is selling, little by little.”

  “So your grandfather didn’t approve of your father’s lifestyle? Is that it?” Savannah asked.

  “Not at all. He was old-fashioned, Dad said. He expected his sons to work in the family businesses. Dad didn’t want that. My uncle did, and somehow his wife ended up with the family fortune when he died. Dad was never of a mind to fight it, but I swore that when I came of age I would, and I’ve been scheming how to do that ever since.”

  “How old are you, Missie?” Craig asked.

  “Thirty.”

  “And you’ve been on the streets since you were a kid?”

  “Not all that time,” she insisted. “Dad put me with other families sometimes, but it never worked out very good. I got some education. Not much. But the big screen—even street acting—intrigues me and that’s what I’ve always wanted to do.” She looked down at her shoes. “Still do.”

  Craig looked into the woman’s face. “Are you behind the harassment and threats against Arthur, Missie?”

  “Huh? Threats?”

  Craig nodded.

  “Well, I didn’t exactly tell anyone to hurt him—just to scare him a little. All I wanted was for him to sign a note saying the money was rightfully mine.”

  Craig looked at her for a moment. “You know, young lady, you may be street-smart and you may have some education, but you know absolutely nothing about how to handle a business transaction.”

  “Business transaction?” she screeched. “He stole from me—well, his father did, and his mother. He has what’s mine. What business transaction? He comes from a pack of thieves.”

  Savannah and Craig exchanged looks, and he continued, “You’re also not a very good judge of character.”

  “What’s character have to do with anything?” Missie spat.

  “It may have everything to do with it, actually,” Craig said. “Here’s a rule of thumb: know something about the people you want to scam.”

  “Me scam?” she shouted. “You’ve got it all wrong, mister.”

  “No, you do, madam. The man you’re accusing and harassing and threatening is probably one of the…”

  “I know who he is. He’s a Spence, isn’t he? I know about the Spences.”

  Craig gave her a disgusted look and shook his head.

  “What does that mean?” Missie asked sarcastically. She looked beyond Craig and said, “There he is, that slimy thief. Let me at him.”

  “Just hold it right there,” Craig said blocking her.

  “You can’t keep me here unless you arrest me, and I ain’t done nothin’ wrong. Let me go. I have business to take care of.”

  “I’d say you do. And I want to help you with that, if you’ll just settle down and relax.”

  She faced him and cocked her head. “What do you mean you’ll help me? You’ll help me get what’s mine?”

  “No,” Craig said, “but I’ll introduce you to your cousin. Maybe you can see for yourself how out of line you are with your thinking and your actions.”

  “You’re out of your mind!” she shouted.

  “If you don’t settle down,” Craig said slowly and deliberately, “I’ll haul you off to jail, I swear I will.”

  “You’re a damn cop?” she screeched.

  Feeling even more exasperated, he said quietly, “Missie, settle down. Now, if you can behave yourself I’ll take you over right now to talk to Mr. Spence.”

  “No!” she shouted. “I want to know if you’re a cop.”

  “A detective. Now will you relax and let me help you with this?”

  Missie huffed a few times, then said, “Okay. We’ll do it your way, unless…”

  “No unless,” Craig insisted. “You’ll do it my way, period.” He waited for her response. Finally she nodded and he took her by the arm. “Let’s go.”

  “Arthur?” Craig called as he caught up to him and Koko.

  “Oh, Detective, hi,” Arthur greeted.

  “How’s the dog?” Craig asked. “I hear you delivered a dog to the clinic for emergency surgery.”

  “Doing okay.” He nodded toward the temporary clinic. “I was just on my way to report to Dr. Mike.” He put Koko down and held fast to her leash, saying, “Yeah, I waited with the folks; they were kind of shaken and worried. I made sure they ate their dinner and all. Dr. Bud came out after just a few minutes with a piece of blue plastic. It was stuck in the little dog’s throat. He said they can take little April home later today.”

  “Good to hear,” Craig said. “Say, Arthur, this young woman here would like to talk to you. Do you have a few minutes?”

  Arthur looked at her. “I guess so. Just let me check in with Dr. Mike first, okay?”

  Craig nodded. He glanced across the grassy area and pointed. “We’ll be out at that picnic table under the shade trees.”

  When Arthur entered the clinic, he saw Michael on the floor with two other men, who all seemed to be trying to control a large dog. “Need help?” he asked, quickly putting Koko into Rags’s pen with him.

  “Yes,” Michael said, trying to catch his breath. “Ever give a shot?”

  “Uh-huh,” Arthur said cautiously. “Why?”

  “I want to sedate this guy so I can draw blood, but I’m concerned about letting go of him now that we have him under control.” Michael nodded toward a counter. “Grab that syringe. It’s loaded and ready to go.” Suddenly, one of the men yelped, “I’m losing my grip!”

  “Hang on,” Michael urged. “Take the cap off, Arthur,” he instructed, “and you’ll administer the whole thing. It’s a low dose.”

  “Here?” Arthur asked, touching the dog.

  “Just left a little—yes,” Michael said, “that’s the spot.” Before Arthur could act, however, the dog bolted and the three men fell backward. “Oh no,” Michael groaned. “Grab him!”

  Two men and a woman darted out the door after the dog, one of them shouting, “Head him away from the street!”

  Michael and Arthur followed and watched as the leggy dog took his owner and a couple of friends on a merry chase.

  “What’s wrong with the dog?” Arthur asked. “Why do you need to sedate him?”

  “I want to draw blood, but he also has what I think is an abscess that needs to be tended to.”

  Arthur started to respond, when he felt something against his leg. He glanced down and saw Rags scooting past with Koko running after him, her leash dragging behind her. When Arthur realized what was happening, he attempted to step on the leash, but missed it by inches. “Darn it,” he said under his breath.

  Michael let out a deep sigh. “Yup, there they go.” He elbowed Arthur. “We’d better catch up with the juvenile delinquents before they cause too much chaos.”

  “What’s going on?” Savannah asked when Michael and Arthur approached her at a run.

  “Oh, you have Rags,” Michael noticed.

  “Yes, I saw him running amuck. I was on my way to make plates for some of the kids. Had to chase him down, but I caught him.” She snuggled with him. “Where was he headed?”

  Michael pointed. “Probably out there.”

  “Where those people are manhandling that big dog?” she asked. “Why?”

  “Just trying to do his job, I guess.”

  At the same time, Arthur moaned, “Oh no, I’d better go rescue Koko.”

  “Where’s Koko?” Savannah asked, watching Arthur sprint away.

  Michael pointed again. “Probably out there.”

  “With that big dog?” she asked, disbelieving. “He looks out of control.”

  “Yeah, we were trying to give him a sedative, but he apparently doesn’t want to go to sleep.”

  “How about a dart gun?” she joked. “You use a dart gun for livestock sometimes, don’t you?”

  “Rarely,” he said. “I didn’t bring it today. Didn’t expect to be dealing with elephant-size dogs—especially one that hates veterinarians.” He looked off into the distance again and muttered, “Well, I’ll be.”

  “What?” Savannah asked. “Oh!” She said when she gazed in the direction he stared. “Is that Koko?”

  He shook his head in disbelief. “It sure is. I’d better make my shot while I can.” He took long strides toward the clinic, emerged with the syringe, and trotted to where the large dog lay on the grass on his back while Koko crawled around on him. His owners and Arthur stood by, stunned.

  Michael slowed his pace as he neared, walked cautiously up to the dog, and administered the sedative without incident.

  “How are we going to get him back to the clinic?” Arthur asked.

  “We’re not,” Michael said. “We’ll bring the clinic to him.” When the others appeared confused, he explained, “We won’t be doing major surgery, I just want to draw blood and take a closer look at that abscess. I may have to drain it. Then we’ll reverse the effects of the sedative and these folks can be on their way.”

  “Brilliant,” Arthur said.

  Michael stood back while he waited for the sedative to take effect. “What’s brilliant,” he said, “is the way Koko tamed the shrew.”

  Arthur burst out laughing. “Ralph is a good piece bigger than a shrew.” He shook his head. “Yeah, she loves the big dogs, and they seem to take to her.”

  “I thought that cat was a goner,” one of the men said. “I’ve seen Ralph chase cats for two city blocks.”

  “But did he ever catch one?” Michael asked when he returned with his medical supplies.

  “No, sir,” the man said. “So far cats have been able to outrun him.” He nodded toward Koko. “This one didn’t run. It wanted to be friends, and Ralph is a friendly guy.” He grinned at Michael. “He just doesn’t like needles.”

  “Sorry about that,” Michael said. After lancing and draining the abscess and drawing blood, he gave the dog another shot, saying, “He’ll wake up in a few moments. He’ll be a little woozy, but that won’t last long. Just let him rest as long as he wants to. I gave him an antibiotic shot and here are some pills. I want you to give him two every day for the next week. I’ll have the blood analyzed and give you a call, probably tomorrow.”

  “Thanks, Doctor,” the woman said as Michael walked away. Arthur caught up to him with Koko in his arms.

  “She is a therapy cat, isn’t she?” Michael said, scratching Koko on top of the head. “What a girl.”

  Arthur smiled. “As I said, she likes dogs.”

  When Savannah saw that the men had returned to the clinic, she walked over to meet them with Rags on his leash. “Want him back?” she asked. “Or has he lost his job?”

  Michael tilted his head. “Lost his job?”

  “Yes, it looks like Koko has taken his place.” She petted the Siamese cat as she wriggled in Arthur’s arms to get down. “What a brave girl you are,” she crooned before returning to the playground.

  Arthur gazed across the lawn. “Well things are quiet now, so I guess I’d better go see what the detective and that woman wants.” He cringed. “I hope she doesn’t want to throw food at me again.”

  “She threw food at you?” Michael asked.

  “Well, in a manner of speaking.” He lowered Koko to the ground. “Come on, girl, let’s go see what’s going on.”

  As Arthur approached the picnic table, Craig said, “That was quite a show your cat put on. I thought for sure she would lose one of her nine lives to that monster of a dog.”

  Arthur smiled, then held his hand out to the woman. “Hi, I’m Arthur Spence. You wanted to talk to me?”

  The woman ignored his gesture, set her jaw and quietly said, “Missie Sp… Just Missie.”

  Craig filled the next awkward silence. “Arthur, Missie tells me that she believes you’re related.”

  “Oh?” Arthur said, surprised.

  “I’m your cousin,” she said. “Your dirt-poor cousin thanks to…”

  “Never mind,” Craig growled. He asked, “Arthur, do you remember having a cousin growing up?”

  He stared at Missie, finally saying, “I’m not sure.”

  “Missie, do you remember seeing Arthur when you were kids? I guess, Arthur, you would have been quite young when you still lived with your dad.”

  “Yes.”

  Missie huffed. “I remember one time when we were playing croquet at Grandpa and Grandmother Spences’ and your little sister kept crawling around moving everyone’s balls. You got really mad at me when I suggested we use her in place of a ball.”

  Arthur pointed at her and squinted. “You pushed me out of the tree swing.”

  “Yeah, that was probably me. I didn’t like you then, either. I saw you try to save a baby bird that fell from a nest. That was a stupid thing to do.”

  Arthur stared solemnly at the woman, revealing, “I cried for days when that bird died.” He frowned at her. “Yes, I do remember you. What are you doing here? Do you live here in Hammond?”

  “No, I live mostly in San Francisco. Why?” she asked defensively.

  “Just making conversation,” Arthur said.