Chapter 2
"No, Cole. Put the badge away. These people are my friends. They'll tell us what you want to know," Mel assured him as they walked across the stadium's Astroturf.
Cole nodded faintly and tucked the badge out of sight. "These creatures are all dogs, Mel?" he asked, staring around the crowded arena with undisguised curiosity.
"Yeah. That's a German Shepard," she told him, pointing. "And an Old English there. And that one over there's an Australian Shepard. That's a Doberman," she added, nodding towards it as they moved on to the Toy area.
"And they are all the same species?" he asked, staring curiously at the tiny replica of a dog they had just passed. "Is this an infant Doberman, Mel?"
She smiled and shook her head. "That's a Manchester Terrier, Cole."
"What is the difference?" he asked, glancing uncertainly from one to the other.
Mel could tell by his close scrutiny and obvious confusion that he was looking for some difference in the markings and composition of the two. "The size, Cole," she explained, smiling reassuringly up at the befuddled man. "The Doberman will probably grow a few more inches. That's as big as the terrier's ever going to get."
"Amazing," the Cirronian murmured, tearing his eyes away from the Manchester Terrier and glancing at a Papillion. He gave a wide smile, staring around in wonder. "They are all the same species?" he asked again. "So many different forms but just one species?"
"Yup." Mel nodded faintly. "These dogs represent like the best five percent of their breed. There are hundreds of different breeds out there. And those aren't even counting the mutts."
"Mutts?" he repeated, frowning and shaking his head. "I don't know that word, Mel."
"Oh, sorry. Those are mixed-breed dogs. Dogs with parents from different breeds."
"Oh." He nodded his understanding. "Why no mutts here?"
She grinned and shook her head. "They're only interested in purebreds."
"Why?"
"They just are." Mel shrugged. "I don't pretend to understand it." She paused, catching his arm. "Which reminds me, Cole... these people, dog breeders... they can be a little... off the beaten track." At his confused look, she gave up trying to be polite about it. "They're very strange people, Cole. Just so you know... And whatever you do, do not say anything about David's dog that isn't a compliment."
"Why, Mel?"
"Because he loves his dogs the way most men love their kids. He's proud of them and he doesn't like to hear them insulted."
"Then I will not insult his dog, Mel." He frowned as two people walked by, deep in conversation, turning and staring after them. "Mel, that woman just used a word you say is not acceptable in public..." he murmured.
Mel frowned, then grinned. "She said 'bitch', didn't she, Cole?"
He nodded, frowning after them. "You said it is a very rude term to apply to a person, Mel, and that woman just said that the other woman was a bitch. But... the other woman did not seem insulted."
"Cole, she didn't call the other woman a bitch. She called the other woman's dog one." Mel chuckled and shook her head. "That's what a bitch is, Cole, a female dog. That's why it's rude to call a person one, because of what it really means."
"But if humans cherish their dogs, why should this word be an insult?"
"Uh..." Mel shrugged. "No clue, Cole. It just kind of is. Come on." Grabbing his arm, she tugged until he started walking again. "Just forget that you heard her say it and don't try to use it yourself," she suggested, wincing to think of Cole inadvertently using it out of context. He did that sometimes, especially with colloquialisms.
"Okay, Mel," he agreed, shrugging and following.
"David!" Mel called as they approached a man sitting and brushing a Pomeranian.
"Mel! There you are." He rose instantly, carefully putting the dog down before catching Mel in a gentle hug. "Good to see you again."
"You, too. How's Chris?"
"He's good. Showing in New York this week."
"Still doing Poms?"
"No, actually." David shook his head. "He's into Wolfhounds now."
Mel's eyes widened. "Big change."
"Very big. I have to fight for a place on the couch these days," he chuckled, shaking his head. "But they've got a great temperament. Almost as good as Poms." He glanced over at Cole, crouching next to the sleeping Pomeranian and just staring at it, his back to the humans. "Ooh, would you look at that view?" he breathed, nudging Mel.
She grinned. "I've seen it, thanks. But you have fun."
"Oh, I will, sweetie. Once you've introduced us..." David winked at her.
Mel chuckled and shook her head. "Go easy on him, David, please?"
"Spoken for, is he?" David asked, giving Mel an approving smile. "You always did have great taste in the opposite sex, sweetie."
Mel rolled her eyes and shook her head. "No, David, we are not involved. Cole's just..." She shrugged. "He doesn't always understand things on the same level as the rest of us do."
"With a body like that, who cares?"
"You're starting to sound like Jess."
"Another lovely lady with great taste in men." David winked at her. "You said he's a cop?"
"Sort of."
"Sort of? Ooh, and the plot thickens. A Fed?"
"Maybe." Mel grinned.
"Okay, okay. I won't ask." Fixed with a firm stare from Mel, he added, "And I won't hit on your boyfriend."
"I'm not her boyfriend," Cole provided helpfully as he joined them. "Mel is dating Detective Bruno. But I do appreciate your promise not to strike me," he added, looking a little confused.
David chuckled and shook his head. Mel had been right. Hot the man may have been, but he was definitely not all there.
"So, Mel tells me you need some info on Poms?" he asked, getting down to business. "Show, breed, or pet?"
Cole's face became a mask of confusion as he tried to make sense of the question. Or had it been a request of some sort?
Mel smiled and rescued him. "Uh, Cole's not interested in breeding or showing, David, and I don't think he wants a pet, either. He's interested in Poms for this case he's working."
Cole nodded faintly, deciding to let Mel take the lead since she seemed to have a firmer grip on the dialect of this particular subculture.
"One was... stolen from a train-yard a few months ago," she explained, seeing that Cole still seemed a little lost.
"Stolen?" David asked, stooping to pick up his dog. "Mel, you remember Betty, don't you?"
"This is... Oh, I didn't even recognize her, David! She was just this tiny little ball of fluff last time I saw her..."
"Yeah, and now she's looking to be a possible contender for best in show at Eukenuba," he told her, smiling proudly.
"Oh, that's great, David. I know she'll at least make best in Group unless the judge is blind..."
"She really is a very lovely creature," Cole contributed, smiling down at the furry creature. "May we pet her?"
"Sure." David nodded and handed Betty to Cole.
Cole stared down at the dog with wide eyes for a moment before cradling it gently against his chest the way Mel's friend had been. Smiling, Mel buried her fingers in Betty's coat, giving her a good scratch. Cole tentatively followed suit, receiving a smile and a faint nod from Mel as confirmation that he was doing it right. The dog seemed to be enjoying herself, he noted with a smile. When it looked up at him, he bent slightly to give it a better look at him. The dog promptly started licking the shocked Cirronian's face.
"Mel?" he whispered, his eyes wide. "Why is it tasting me?"
Chuckling, Mel rescued Cole, handing Betty back to David and searching her purse for a tissue. "She's just being friendly, Cole," she explained.
"Licking a person's body qualifies as friendly?" Cole asked, frowning and wondering why Mel had never mentioned this particular custom before.
"Never mind, Cole," Mel suggested in a tight voice, handing him a tissue and glaring at David, who was laughing loudly. "And not a word out of you, either, smart-ass," she ordered firmly.
"Oh, come on!" David protested, still laughing. "He gives me a opening like that and I'm not allowed to take it? You are a cruel woman, Melanie Porter..."
"I do not want Cole exposed to your version of humor, thanks. He's not ready for it. Hell, half the human race isn't ready for your brand of humor, David..." She chuckled and shook her head. "Pomeranians," she reminded him.
"Right." He nodded, doing his best to compose himself. He was going to have to take Mel out drinking some time very soon and get the full story on her charming if clueless friend. Starting with whether or not he was involved and, if not, was he receptive to men getting 'friendly' with him. "What about them?" he asked, filing all those questions and jokes away for later and settling down to business. "You said one was stolen?"
Cole nodded. "Yes. He was being shipped from the kennel where he was born to the person who had just bought him."
David nodded. "What kennel?"
Cole leafed through the police-report he had brought. "Daisy Cutter's," he provided.
David's eyes widened. "They breed some of the best Poms in the world. Bet came from Daisy Cutter's."
"Did she?" Cole asked.
He nodded. "Daisy Cutter's Bouncing Betty. I don't think she's ever failed to at least place in a show we've been in. Their dogs are the best."
"Valuable dogs?" Cole asked.
David nodded. "Expensive as hell, yeah."
"Then this would be a good motive to steal one," Cole said, nodding faintly.
"Are you kidding?" David scoffed, shaking his head.
"What?" Mel asked, frowning.
"A dog's worth is in its papers. You steal an A.K.C. registered dog, and... it becomes worthless the minute the theft's reported. You can't can't breed it because the minute you entered it in a show, the A.K.C. would know that it was the stolen dog."
"Could not new papers be forged?" Cole asked. "Or... papers from another dog used?"
"Well, sure you could forge papers." David shrugged. "But that's risky. I mean, forging papers... A.K.C. keeps records of the lines back for over a hundred years. If they were to look too closely, they'd know something was up."
"And papers from another dog?" Mel asked.
He shook his head. "Well, sure, if it places enough at shows, but you'd have to wait quite awhile before you see what kind of pups it throws. With the bloodline, they'd be good, but without a lot of placements, they wouldn't be worth as much."
Cole frowned faintly. All this talk of purebreds and crossbreds and inferior and superior bloodlines was starting to remind him of a political symposium he had once attended on Varda.
"How intelligent are these creatures?" he asked.
David shrugged. "Pretty smart."
Mel jumped in before Cole could detail the specifics of the crime, knowing that it would only raise questions. "What about smart enough to perform a trick like, say... oh, remember a string of numbers and then punch them into a keyboard later?" she asked, trying to sound offhanded.
David frowned at the very odd question. Taking a few minutes to consider, he shook his head. "I don't think so. I mean, I guess anything could happen and with the right training a dog could probably learn a trick like that in a few months..."
"What about a few weeks?" Cole asked.
David frowned. "I thought this was about a stolen dog..."
"It is," Mel assured him quickly. "It's just..." She sighed. "It's complicated, David. Very complicated. You really don't want to know."
He nodded faintly, giving her shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "Well, if I don't want to know, sweetie, I'd best stop asking questions and start answering them."
"Could a dog learn to type a combination on a keypad in a few weeks?" Cole asked again. "Five or six numbers long?"
David considered for a moment, then shrugged. "If you did nothing but train a dog to do a trick like that, day and night... you could maybe get it to be pretty good at it within five or six weeks."
"But not sooner? And not if it were learning to perform other tasks at the same time?"
David shook his head. "I've been working with Poms for twenty years now and I'd have a hard time doing it. It'd have to be a damned bright dog to begin with and the trainer would have to know his stuff..."
Cole nodded, filing this away. "Are they all this friendly and placid?" he asked, nodding towards Betty.
"Pretty much. Good temperament is one of the breed specs. Bet's a calm girl by temperament... I've seen some hyper ones, but never a mean one."
"So they do not bite?"
"All breeds bite sometimes, but I've never known a Pom to bite unprovoked."
"They are small. Can they bite hard enough to cause serious damage? Are they strong enough?"
"To cause serious damage?" David repeated, shaking his head. "They could break the skin, probably, but I'd be surprised if they could even draw much blood."
"Thank you," Cole said, nodding. "May we contact you again if I have more questions?"
"Yeah." David reached into a pocket, pulling out his wallet and extracting a card. Handing it to Cole, he said, "And if I'm not answering because I'm in a show or something, that number there will get you in touch with Chris, who can also answer pretty much any questions you may have. He knows his Poms almost as well as I do."
"Thank you," Cole told him, accepting the card and tucking it into his wallet. "I appreciate that you took the time to help us."
Chris grinned and shrugged. "Hey, anything for Irene's granddaughter." He gave Mel a quick hug. "You take care, sweetie."
"You, too. Give my love to Chris."
"I will." Kissing her cheek, he added, "And call us some time when you don't have a crime to solve. We'd love to have you up to the cabin for a weekend."
"That'd be nice." Mel smiled and nodded. "Thanks again, David."
"No problem." He grinned and shook hands with Cole before returning his attention to brushing the rest of the tangles out of Betty's mane. Glancing after the retreating pair for a moment, he smiled, deciding that Mel's taste in men was definitely improving.
