"Dog Days of Dallas" PART THREE
Trent was a bit reluctant as he turned and watched Molly from a distance, leading Remington out of Walker's barn and over to the pasture fence where Trent had been resting and admiring the beautiful land before him with his foot propped on the bottom tier. The feeling of not belonging suddenly played him somewhat subtly. He had been around horses a lot. He even liked riding. But somehow he couldn't quite wrap his mind around the fact that Molly trusted his opinion about whatever the problem was with Remington.
Molly had mounted the steed before Trent had fully gathered his thoughts and galloped gently across the short way to the fence opening where she entered the broad pasture, taking the horse for a couple of laps around the big yard.
"He seems just fine to me!" Trent called to Molly a few seconds later after studying both horse and ride, returning to his relaxed position on the fence and folding his hands atop the wooden structure.
"I know!" Molly was breathing harder as she pulled up the reins to bring the horse to a stop near Trent. "It's the funniest thing. He seems fine now. I thought I'd ride him to see if he would do what he was doing the other day. Hey, maybe if you ride him you might could get a feel of him a bit better." Molly beamed a smile and dismounted rather quickly, extending the reins to Trent.
Trent backed off of the fence with a chuckle on his breath. "Molly, I shouldn't."
"Oh, come on. Just a few laps won't kill you."
"If Kath or Carlos were here…"
"But they're not! It's just you and me and Remington. Trent," Molly sighed, looking away briefly. "You've got to get back going sometime. I think you've been babied so much the past week that you're getting comfortable in it."
"I am not," Trent argued, his voice edging a sharp tone he suddenly didn't like. "I just agree with the majority that I shouldn't push myself until I'm fully healed."
Molly was tempted to mount up and ride away for a while but held her ground, turning instead to look at Ranger Walker's ranch house and admire its beauty. Anything to keep her from saying something she'd regret. She had nearly done that already. And Trent meant more to her than to risk anger between them. Yet it was her indignation that was the drive behind the fact that she cared. Molly would rue the day Trent ever slacked in what he was called to do. His father's legacy meant the world to him. Death had not won him. So surely these steps to recovery couldn't claim him as defeated either.
"Look," Trent exhaled, glancing down and back to gaze over the pasture again. "I'm sorry. You're right. I should do more. But tricking me into coming to look at a perfectly healthy horse isn't going to help matters much."
Molly looked up to see Trent's gentle smile as she realized he had found her out. "Was it that obvious?"
"I'm afraid so. You see, you wouldn't have ridden Remington that hard just a second ago if you were really concerned about him. You would have had me look at him first." Trent's scoff mingled with another smile. "Besides, you're much too smart for that."
"I should have known I wouldn't fool a private investigator."
Molly was still busy processing Trent's slightly endearing words when a cell phone suddenly sounded from the seat of Trent's Stingray nearby. It rang for another moment before Trent hurried towards it, flipping open the device and putting it to his ear.
"Trent Malloy."
Molly watched as Trent listened in, secretly trying to determine the nature of the call while she stroked Remington's mane.
"Alright," Trent nodded and paced slowly back towards Molly. "Yeah. I'll be right there." Trent closed the phone and held it by his side. "That was Kath. Walker's asked us to find a girl that went missing. Her father was murdered this morning, and she's the only suspect so far."
"That's awful." Molly's eyes narrowed under the thought of such an atrocity. "Just be careful, Trent. Please." She turned pleading eyes to Trent this time as he looked at her solemnly.
"I always am," Trent promised. "Here. I'll help you get Remington back to the barn."
##
Katheryn looked to the door of Uppercuts for the fifth time as she absentmindedly listened to the sound of a rain shower mingled with that of a rock and roll tune. She turned a sigh from her lips as she went back to cradling a tall glass of sweet tea while being secretly wary of why Trent had not yet arrived to their scheduled meeting place. Butch was busy tending a customer on the other side of the bar when he caught a glimpse of Katheryn from the corner of his eye and made his way over to her. He stood silent for a couple of seconds waiting for Katheryn to even know he was there.
"Why the long face?"
Katheryn shook off her reverie and raised a smile before inhaling deeply. "Oh, I'm just worried about Trent. He's late. Walker wants us to find a missing girl, and we planned to meet up here."
Butch furrowed his eyebrows in thought as he circled the bar, taking a seat on the barstool next to Katheryn. "Correct me if I'm wrong. But that doesn't seem like something to be so dismal about."
"Oh, I'm not dismal really. Just—just concerned I guess."
"About?"
"Trent." Katheryn paused for a quick sip of tea. She then remembered her conversation with Walker that afternoon, turning up a smile as she swallowed her beverage. "Walker put me in my place this afternoon when I doubted if Trent should be back on a case so soon. Yet I still worry that he may try pushing himself too hard before he's ready."
"What makes you think he isn't ready?" Butch held back a keen smile, knowing the answer to his rather rhetorical question.
"He just isn't," Katheryn insisted but could hear the wrong in her words as they came out of her mouth. She scoffed amid a smile and turned her gaze back to her tea. "I get it."
"Trent's lucky to have good friends like you in his corner. Don't be ashamed about being worried about your friends. That makes you just that much more valuable to them. I'd rue the day I didn't have at least one person worry about me. I just hope they'd keep the fact to themselves."
Katheryn finally smiled and had almost worked her tea glass to empty when the rain shower suddenly became louder before it dissipated and was replaced by the sound of a shutting door as Trent entered, brushing the fresh rain drops off of his leather coat.
"Well then, looked what the cat drug in." Butch beamed a smile as he stood and made his way back to the bar, pausing once to give Trent a handshake.
"Hey, Butch," Trent smiled and turned to Kath. "Sorry I'm late."
Katheryn's smile faded, her eyes darting from Trent to her watch as she sighed. "Where have you been? I've been waiting almost twenty minutes."
"Sorry," Trent echoed. "I was out at Walker's ranch for a few minutes."
"What for?"
"Molly asked me to take a look at Remington for her."
"Trent," Katheryn pleaded and almost gave him a slight tongue-lashing but held it back as she felt Butch's eyes on her to remind her of what they had just briefly discussed. "Well, I hope you both had fun."
"On the contrary," Trent confessed. "I think Molly tricked me."
"What do you mean?"
Trent smiled, clearly more pleased about the happenstance excursion than Kath had at first assumed. "She used Remington as an excuse to get me out of the house."
"I guess it worked?" Katheryn held back a grin.
Trent nodded just before a slight chuckle preceded his sigh. "I must admit it felt rather good to get out to Walker's ranch. Makes me think Mom's right. We should plan a camping trip soon."
"I agree. And it's good to hear you being perky again. Now, what do you say we get going?"
"I just got here," Trent scoffed, sitting up a bit straighter as he pleaded his case.
Katheryn was quickly on her feet and slipping off her sling briefly to put her arms into her leather jacket as she smiled and patted Trent on the back. "I've been waiting already. Now let's get going." She then replaced her arm in the sling and ambled forward, pausing by the door once and looking back at Trent with eyebrows raised. "You coming?!"
Trent held back a chuckle as he looked over to Butch with his mouth gapping open slightly. "Can you believe this? One minute she didn't even want me lifting a pinky finger. Now she's cracking the whip."
Butch only grinned and issued his goodbyes before watching the two young PIs slip out of the door and into the now lightly-falling raindrops.
"So where should we start?" Katheryn was the first to speak up as she closed the passenger door of the Corvette behind her against the cold, wet drops. She shivered just a bit as she settled into the warmth of the familiar interior.
Trent shut his door at about almost the same time, cranking the engine and accelerating away from Uppercuts before he answered. "I think we should start with the neighbors. If Isabella left home at any point before the murder took place, maybe someone saw her leave."
"Good thinking." Katheryn processed Trent's words before she cocked a glance back to him. "So you don't think she did it?"
"I don't know," Trent admitted with a sigh. "I can't imagine a twelve year old girl doing something like that. I guess I'm kind of hoping she didn't do it."
"Yeah, I know what you mean." Katheryn turned to watch downtown Dallas flash by as she refocused her attention on the task at hand.
"You got the address?"
"Yup!" Katheryn drew out the piece of paper Trivette had given her. She called out the address to Trent and relaxed into the comfortable leather to prepare herself as they drew closer to finding out just what this was all about.
##
"Young man! Young man! Stop, young man!"
Tommy Malloy ceased his step on the neighborhood sidewalk that paralleled Providence Way and lifted up an unheard sigh before he lethargically turned around to face the voice that called after him from a nearby porch. He had almost made it home. Ten more yards and he would have been in the clear. "Yes, ma'am?"
"Young man," Mrs. Williams echoed as she hurried down the steps, stopping at the edge of her yard. "Come here right now, young man."
Ambling over to Mrs. Williams, Tommy tried to smile. "Yes, Mrs. Williams?"
The middle-aged woman breathed hard and feigned a level of shaken emotion as she pointed back towards her own house. "My little Yorkie Fifi has been under the weather all day! Can you believe that?"
"Yes, I can," Tommy muttered under his breath.
"Fifi won't eat his food and hardly says a word! He's emotionally unstable now! No thanks to that menacing golden retriever of yours!"
"Now, you hold it right there, lady! Moses wouldn't harm a flea!"
"Oh, is that right?" She propped a hand on her hip. "Then explain why my Fifi is ruined for life!"
"I can't!" Tommy outstretched his hands, almost begging for mercy. "You see, ma'am. Moses ran away from home. He disappeared."
"You mean you let that devil out?!"
"Not on purpose!"
"Well, I will see to it that the authorities find out!"
"Mrs. Williams, my brother is a private investigator. I'm sure we'll be able to find him. Besides, if it was Moses, don't you think we would have seen him around here lately?!"
Mrs. Williams crossed her arms at her chest and puffed a sigh. "I suppose. That still doesn't mean he's innocent!" She shook her finger in Tommy's face.
"Okay, look." Tommy took a deep breath, relaxing his weight on one foot while running a hand through his hair. "All I can promise is that we will let you know the minute we find Moses. Until then, I politely ask that you quit throwing accusations where they don't belong." With that, Tommy marched away, aiming straight for his house without another word spoken.
##
Nighttime came again far too soon for the young girl who was oblivious to anything other than the idea of her assumed successful escape from hell itself. It was well-nigh nine o'clock she figured as she listened to the distant roar of the downtown Dallas train and watched a couple of restaurant owners flip around their closed signs and lock up for the night. Her head hung low still as she saw this, realizing for the first time in her life that she was homeless. The thought tore into her sharply, triggering a wayward tear that she brushed away quickly while pressing on across the sparse back alley streets of the city. She continued to feel the weight of her knapsack pulling her downward, but she fought against the urge to rest. She had to keep moving. Besides, she wouldn't admit that she was lost. And losing the piece of paper that had her mother's address on it didn't help matters much. It was rather stupid, she scoffed as she remembered how a burly man tumbled out of that roadhouse just past two in the morning and slammed into her. She had caught her weight with her hands on the pavement in time only to see that slip of paper fall to the ground, swept away by the wind, and carried off into a nearby drainage pipe. The big man only laughed and bellowed his way onto his motorcycle before revving the engine and hurrying away from the teary-eyed girl. Since then, she had wandered the city and suburbs with no idea where she was or who she could trust. And now another day of her life had been wasted.
Isabella walked about another tiresome mile before she came to a secluded park just behind a cluster of stores and restaurants. It was too dark for her liking with little streetlight and more shadows than she dared count. But as she watched a couple laugh and carry on while pecking a few kisses, she breathed a silent prayer of thanks as they finally left the bench they shared. For it meant a moment of rest for Isabella.
Waiting until the twosome were out of view, the young girl darted from behind a bush and hurried to the bench, nearly collapsing her weight onto the hard surface. She never knew such a compromising condition could mean such relief at a time like this. Isabella then slipped out of her backpack and set it beside her, running a hand against her tired face as she concluded her backpack would be as good of a pillow as any she supposed. She had just made her mind up to accept what she couldn't change when a rustling in the nearby bushes stole her attention. She could feel her heart rate accelerate as she held on to the edge of the bench seat with all her might, hoping that she was just hearing things. But the sound didn't stop.
"Hello?" Isabella's voice was a bit hoarse as she called softly at first, hoping it would do some good. "Is—is anyone out there?"
No one answered. But the young woman could have sworn she heard a grunt of some kind. With a furrowed brow, she cocked her head, examining the scene with a crooked smile.
"Hello? Show yourself. Whoever you are."
A few more seconds passed before a parting in the bushes finally revealed a four-legged creature with a twig balanced on its head as it bounded forward and towards Isabella. It scared her almost senseless but made her happy at the same time.
"Why, you!" The girl rubbed on the dog's head for a few seconds, the affection being freely reciprocated by panting and licks on her face. Isabella giggled as she felt the slobber before she tried defending herself, setting her hand on the dog's back in hopes he would relax some. "Okay! Okay! Settle down now."
The dog did as he was bid, letting Isabella get a better look at him. "Where's your master, boy?" She rubbed at his neck, lifting his chin to look in his eyes. "Are you all alone like me? Or did you run away from home…like I did?" Isabella frowned on that last note only to feel the friendly golden retriever tuck his chin against her leg. She tried smiling some more at the affectionate notion, giving the dog a pat on the head before she noticed his collar.
"Hmm…" Isabella ran her finger against the item as she glanced over the metal tag. "Malloy. 118 Providence Way." She looked the dog in the eyes again. "Is that your home, boy?"
The canine whimpered a bit before he nosed up against Isabella again.
"You want to go home?" Isabella smiled as she scratched the dog on his head. "I know. I do to. But I can't. Say, you and me may have been destined to find each other. We both left home. We probably did so for very good reasons. So maybe we can keep each other company."
The dog barked out loud.
"Shh!" Isabella brought her finger to her lips. "Do you want someone to find us? Now, we'll be home soon you and me. I'm going to find my momma. I just know it. I don't need an address. Besides, I know she's been looking for me too. It's only a matter of time before we find that diner. And we can't ask anyone for directions just in case papa has reported me as missing. Because I'm not lost. I'm not missing." She sniffed away a tear. "I don't ever want to go home again."
With that, Isabella leaned her head down against her backpack and willed herself to rest, ending up crying herself to sleep as she was lulled by Moses' sweet panting by her side on the grasses below.
