Girl's Best Friend Page 16

  “Basically,” I said. “Through Boutique Breeds by Brenda. A phony dog-breeding business, as far as I’m concerned. She listed pretty much every missing dog in the neighborhood when she told me what was available for sale.”

  “Kermit, too?” asked Lucy.

  “Well, no,” I admitted. “But I have a feeling she’s got him, too.”

  “We snuck out of the house because you have a feeling?” asked Finn.

  “It’s a strong feeling,” I told him. “And no one forced you to come.”

  “Aren’t you worried that Dr. Reese might really try to perform surgery on Preston?” asked Lucy.

  I bent down and scratched Preston behind his ears. “No, I’d never put Preston in that kind of danger. I’m not going to leave her alone with him for a second. And anyway, she’s not going to have the time. As soon as she takes me and Preston back to an exam room, you guys need to sneak inside and track down the missing dogs.”

  “But what if we can’t find them?” asked Finn.

  “You’ll hear them,” I said. “I did when we went in for the exam. That was Dr. Reese’s first mistake. She complained that she had no business and her waiting room was deserted, yet I heard a bunch of dogs barking from somewhere inside the building.”

  “But what if those aren’t the right ones?” asked Lucy.

  “If not, we’re in trouble. But I’m pretty sure I know what I’m doing.”

  “I hope so,” said Finn.

  I stopped when we hit Sixth Avenue. “We’ll soon find out. You guys hang back here, okay? Wait about three minutes, then sneak in after me.”

  “Okay. Good luck,” Lucy whispered.

  “Thanks!” I replied, hoping I wouldn’t need it.

  As soon as Preston and I turned the corner, I saw Dr. Reese waiting in front of her office, wearing a white lab coat over her dark suit.

  “Thanks for meeting me here,” I said, hurrying over. “I’m so worried about Preston.”

  “You did the right thing,” said Dr. Reese. She unlocked her door and walked inside. Preston and I followed, and luckily she didn’t try to lock the door behind us.

  So far so good.

  We went into the same exam room as last time. “Is this where you operate?” I asked.

  Dr. Reese ignored the question. “Preston looks even sicker than before. It was dangerous, waiting this long.”

  “I know. I’m so sorry. Isabel feels terrible. She wanted to get a second opinion and … ” Suddenly I stopped talking.

  Dr. Reese was looking up at me. “Did she get that second opinion?”

  “I don’t think so,” I bluffed, shaking my head. “We trust you.” It was hard to say it, but I knew I had to keep talking. Keep Dr. Reese distracted while Finn and Lucy snuck in.

  Just then I heard the squeak of the door.

  Unfortunately, Dr. Reese did, too. She looked up.

  “Windy out, huh?” I asked.

  Dr. Reese blinked at me behind her glasses.

  “So what’s involved in this surgery, exactly?” I wondered.

  “Well, I cut him open and repair his heart.”

  “Uh-huh. And what’s your success rate?”

  “Well, this surgery is rare,” said Dr. Reese. “But I haven’t lost any patients yet.”

  I guess that statement could have been true, depending on her definition of “lost.”

  Just then I heard a bark. Then another, until soon it sounded like we were in the middle of a dog kennel.

  “Excuse me,” said Dr. Reese.

  “Wait.” I grabbed the sleeve of her lab coat. “I have some more questions. Please don’t go.”

  Dr. Reese pulled her arm free. “I really need to go check on my other patients.”

  “How long will it take for Preston to recover?” I asked, trying to stall her.

  “Just a few weeks,” said Dr. Reese, her hand on the doorknob. “You’ll want to keep Preston quiet. He shouldn’t run around until his stitches heal.”

  “He’ll have stitches?”

  “Of course he’ll have stitches.”

  “I had stitches once,” I said, thinking if I just kept talking I could distract her. “On my elbow. I fell off my bike into a pile of broken glass. It hurt. A lot. Will Preston be in pain?”

  Dr. Reese smiled and walked over to me. “Don’t worry so much.”

  Just then, Finn sneezed. Which would’ve been bad enough even if Lucy hadn’t said, “Bless you.”

  When we heard Finn say, “Thank you,” with crystal clear clarity—even through the door—I knew we were toast.

  Dr. Reese flew out of the exam room.

  Preston and I followed her down a long, narrow hall and through an open door.

  We soon found ourselves in a brightly lit room with Finn and Lucy and seven dogs—Kermit included.

  “We’ve got her!” I yelled.

  “What’s going on here?” asked Dr. Reese.

  “We should ask you the same question!” I said.

  “This is a clear case of breaking and entering,” said Dr. Reese, pulling her cell phone out of her pocket. “If you kids don’t get out of here now, I’m calling the police.”

  “Don’t bother,” said Finn. “We already did.”

  Chapter 29

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  “So, can you explain things one more time?” asked Lucy, once Dr. Reese had been arrested and the police had finished questioning us. We were finally on our way to Ivy’s with both Preston and Kermit in tow.

  “Yeah, my head is still spinning,” said Finn.

  “That’s because of your allergies,” I said. “Which I warned you about before you came!”

  “Oh, get over it,” said Finn. “You should be thanking me, since I’m the one who called the police.”

  “That was a good move,” I said.

  “Hello?” said Lucy. “Still waiting for answers!”

  “Right. Sorry.” I took a deep breath and repeated what I’d already told the police (since they’d insisted on questioning us separately to make sure our stories matched, not believing at first that Lucy and Finn didn’t actually know that much). “Dr. Reese is a pretend veterinarian and her whole practice is a total front. She used it in order to get to know local dogs and their owners—essentially to lure in victims. When she examines a valuable purebred dog, she recommends surgery. She later claims that these poor dogs died during surgery, when really she’s just pretending to kill them off. Those same ‘dead dogs’ are later resold through Boutique Breeds by Brenda. Just as I suspected.”

  “I can’t believe that worked,” said Lucy.

  “But how does Kermit fit into this?” asked Finn. “He’s a mutt.”

  “Right,” I said. “Good question. People pay top dollar for purebred dogs and many of them look alike, so it’s easy to pull off. But as for mutts? They’re too distinct to steal and resell, especially in the same neighborhood. That’s why they get kidnapped and held for ransom or stolen for the reward money. Whichever Dr. Reese thinks will work best. On a case-by-case basis.”

  “Evil twin dog stealers,” Lucy marveled. “That’s crazy.”

  “Do you think you’ll be able to track down Brenda?” asked Finn.

  “I don’t need to, because Brenda and ‘Dr.’ Reese aren’t actually twins.”

  “You told me they looked exactly alike,” said Lucy.

  “They do, because they’re the same person.”

  “Wait, you’re saying she’s a fake twin?” asked Finn.

  I nodded. “Yup. It’s her cover—and a pretty brilliant one, too. A veterinarian who also sells dogs sounds way too suspicious. But a veterinarian whose twin is a dog breeder? That makes perfect sense. Identical twins who both love dogs decide to work with animals for a living—that’s an acceptable backstory. But actually the opposite is true. Obviously this woman doesn’t care about dogs at all. People either, or she’d never commit such awful crimes.”

  “How’d you figure it out?” asked Finn.

  I pause
d before answering because my actual reason sounded silly. Or at least unscientific. In truth, I’d been suspicious ever since I noticed Dr. Reese wore the same shoes as her sister, Brenda. Twins going into similar lines of work made sense. But grown-up twins dressing alike? Forget it! It was too weird.

  Of course, there were other red flags I was perfectly willing to talk about. “When I took Preston in to have his nails clipped, I just got this weird vibe from Dr. Reese and the whole office. She worked all alone and told me her receptionist had just quit, but she also said she’d talked to Isabel days before. Most vets don’t answer their own phones or make their own appointments. I know because I called around to check. And she was so insistent that Preston needed surgery, when all she did was listen to his heart. It made no sense. At first I took her word for it and panicked, but the more I thought about it, well, Preston seemed so healthy. And after Isabel took him to a different vet, who determined he was perfectly fine? Well, then I knew something was up.”

  “I wonder how many dogs she pretended to kill,” said Finn.

  “I wonder how many she stole,” said Lucy.

  I shuddered. “Let’s just be glad she won’t be able to do any of it again,” I said. And since we were almost at Ivy’s, I asked to borrow Lucy’s cell phone so I could give her a call.

  “Tick tock. You’re almost out of time,” Ivy said. “You didn’t find him, did you?”

  “Just meet me outside of your apartment,” I said.

  “When?”

  “Now.” I hung up before she could argue with me.

  “You should go alone,” Finn said. “Lucy and I will hang out here.”

  “Are you sure?” I asked.

  “Yeah, we’ll be fine,” said Lucy.

  “Go ahead.” Finn sat on the sidewalk and pulled Lucy down next to him—into his lap, practically.

  She giggled.

  “Okay,” I said, and I walked another half block with Kermit before I saw Ivy’s front door open. Then Ivy herself stepped outside into the night. She wore a long purple coat over blue flannel pajamas. Fluffy pink bunny slippers, too.

  When Kermit noticed her he whipped his tail back and forth. Then he started barking, so I dropped his leash and he tore down the sidewalk.

  “Kermit!” Ivy cried and crouched down to meet him. Kermit jumped on Ivy and licked her face, a frantic and hyper reunion. “I was afraid I’d never see you again!”

  “He missed you,” I said, once I caught up.

  “Not half as much as I missed him!” Ivy wiped the tears from her eyes. “I’ll never let him out of my sight again,” she promised as she stood up and gave me an awkward hug. “Thanks, Maggie.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  She let go and took a step back. “So how did you find him?”

  “It’s kind of a long story.” I told her what I could as quickly as possible, since I didn’t want to keep Finn and Lucy waiting.

  “I can’t believe you rescued so many dogs,” said Ivy. “That’s crazy!”

  “Yeah, well, the police are dealing with the others, but I convinced them to let me deliver Kermit to you personally.”

  “Wow, I’m impressed,” said Ivy. “And I’m so glad he’s safe.”

  “Just in time,” I said.

  “I know. And now my parents will never know a thing!”

  “And you can stop torturing me about Milo,” I added.

  “Huh?” Ivy looked at me, surprised. “You know I was totally joking about that, right?”

  “No you weren’t.”

  “I was.” Ivy nodded, wide-eyed and innocent. “I’d never do that to you. Not when you’ve been working so hard. And, um, sorry for everything else, too.”

  I couldn’t tell if she was apologizing for the past two weeks or for the past two years, but strangely, it didn’t really matter. It’s just who she was. Who she’d become, anyway …

  “Don’t worry about it,” I said, and I meant it. I was done worrying.

  “Well, you just did me the hugest favor ever, Maggie. And I’m eternally grateful. If there’s anything you—”

  “Seriously, forget about it.” I didn’t want to hear it and I didn’t need to. So I gave Kermit a final pat good-bye and walked back up the street to Finn and Lucy.

  As we headed home I realized something. There are lots of mysteries out there. Some of them I can solve, like tracking down Isabel’s cash and finding Kermit and the other neighborhood dogs. And some still left me perplexed:

  Why do friendships end?

  Will I ever be able to act normal in front of Milo?

  And how come my brother and Lucy were acting so weird around each other?

  I figured some answers would come to me, eventually. And some I’d never understand. In the meantime, I’d just keep walking dogs, knowing that things are always changing—sometimes for the better and sometimes not.

  Chapter 30

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  A few days later I ran into Milo at the Pizza Den. He was leaning against the wall and listening to his iPod, as usual. Of course, by now I knew better than to try to talk to him when he had earbuds in.

  He noticed me come in, though, and nodded.

  I raised my eyebrows at him and gave a half wave. Which was much cooler than actually waving. Or at least it took less effort, and therefore showed less commitment, which translated into nonchalance, which was cool. I think.

  When I made it to the front of the line, I ordered my pizza to go.

  Once outside, I took a couple of bites, then felt someone tap me on the shoulder. I spun around to find Milo with his earbuds around his neck, both ears free. “Hey, where are you going?” he asked.

  “Work. I’ve got four dogs to walk.”

  “Four?” asked Milo. “I thought you only had three clients—Preston, Bean, and dog-Milo.”

  I smiled, flattered that he remembered all the dogs in my life. “I also walk one more now—Nofarm.”

  “Someone has a dog named Nofarm?” Milo asked.

  “Not just someone. It’s Beckett. The three-year-old who used to have Bean.”

  Milo knew the entire story. We talked before science now. After, too, and okay, sometimes during class. He’d forgiven me for accusing him of being the dognapper and I’d sort of forgiven him for his habit of dog borrowing, which he said he might give up soon anyway. Finn told him all about the evil Dr. Reese and how I’d rescued Kermit and six other neighborhood dogs, which impressed Milo. And it also made me realize my brother is not so clueless after all.

  “Beckett didn’t want Bean back?” asked Milo.

  “He did, but his mom decided she’d be better off with Cassie. Beckett was really upset about it, until his parents took him to the BARC shelter in Williamsburg and let him pick out a new dog. He got a mutt this time—a beagle-Lab-collie mix, and she’s a total sweetheart. Hasn’t bitten anyone yet.”

  “But why’d he name her Nofarm?”

  I grinned. “He has his reasons.”

  Milo raised his eyebrows as if wanting me to go on, but I didn’t.

  “Want some company?” he asked.

  “I’ve gotta get to work, remember?”

  “I know.” Milo stood there as if waiting for something.

  “Um, you mean you want to come with me?”

  “I could do that,” said Milo with an easy shrug. He wore a new sweater—green and gray striped with no holes, just one snagged thread near his right cuff. “I’ve got nothing else going on right now.”

  “Wow, thanks.”

  “No, that’s not what I meant,” said Milo. “I mean, it would be fun to hang out. If you want to, that is. Or I can call Finn. But maybe he’s still sick?”

  “Ha, very funny!” I punched him on the shoulder, but not hard or anything.

  “Yee-ouch,” Milo said anyway, but I could tell he was just teasing.

  “Okay, you can come on one condition. You’ve got to promise me—no dognapping.”

  “Dog borrowing,” Milo said. “There’s a
difference. And I told you, I’m not doing that anymore.”

  “Okay, cool. Let’s go.”

  Milo followed me up Garfield all the way to Isabel’s.

  After Preston, we walked dog-Milo and Bean. Boy-Milo wanted to meet Nofarm, too. So we went to pick her up.

  A little while later, we crossed the street to get to the Long Meadow. We had to move quickly—dodging cyclists, who got as close to us as possible without actually running us down. Trying to edge us out on purpose, because they want you to know that Prospect Park is for them, not for dogs or walkers and especially not for kid dog walkers. But I didn’t care. Nothing could spoil this day.

  People flew kites. Toddlers ran, screaming—not from anything in particular. Just because toddlers don’t need any excuse to run and scream. They just enjoy it.

  A soccer game was going on, in full swing. Players running so hard and fast, I felt the ground shake as they sped past. Then the ball got kicked out of bounds. Milo went to retrieve it and threw it back to a familiar-looking blond guy.

  “Oh, hey,” I said, once I recognized him.

  “Hi,” he said with a brace-faced smile. “How’s your crazy friend with the Muppet?”

  I laughed. “Not so crazy anymore,” I said, feeling generous. “You just caught her on a bad day. And we found her dog.”

  “Glad to hear it,” he replied before getting back to his game.

  “You know that guy?” asked Milo as we continued down the path.

  “Yeah, kind of,” I said. “It’s a long story.”

  “You seem to have a lot of those.”

  I shrugged. “It’s been that way lately.”

  I could’ve explained but didn’t want to. Milo didn’t need to know everything … So I stayed quiet, heading past the dog beach where two pit bulls and a German shepherd splashed through the murky water.

  “So, dog walking.” Milo looked around. “Who knew? This is kinda fun.”

  “I know,” I said. “I used to walk dogs because it was the next best thing to having my own. But now I think it’s better this way. I mean, I still wish I had my own dog, but I feel pretty lucky, getting to spend time with four of them almost every single day.”