The Dog Chapter

Vanshika was the key. If she was the killer, the deal with Arabesque winery fell apart. Jay hoped she was just an accomplice. He posited Kadesh could sweep something like that under the rug. Either way, he had to know, and that was why he was driving to her address in Osoyoos with a tactical flashlight and a pair of black gloves resting on the passenger seat. If she wasn’t there, he intended to stray beyond the confines of the law. He needed to discover any information her home could provide. 

The wind had waned with the sunset, meaning wildfire smoke had stopped blowing in and rendering the ground-level air breathable again. Jay had a good view of the moon, stuck in a band of high-altitude smog like a marble in a pound cake. Vanshika’s house was part of a quiet residential neighbourhood. He parked down the block and sat there in the dark watching for activity. It was after ten, and half the houses on the block were showing no lights, including the one he was interested in. The sidewalks and driveways were empty of people. After watching for five minutes, a cat with a cocky gait sauntered across the road. Jay took that as his cue.

He put the gloves on and got out of the truck, shoving the flashlight into his waistband at the small of his back. Making sure his dark-coloured coat concealed the torch, he crossed the street and walked up to Vanshika’s front door. The entranceway of the modest white bungalow was sheltered by a small portico, casting a pool of shadow. He knocked loudly. There was no response. Just in case, he tried the door handle. It was locked. The only reaction he got was barking, from a dog in the house next door. He stood still until it stopped, then turned his attention to the narrow sidewalk that led around the side of the house.

  The moonlight let him see well enough to follow the path. A wooden gate blocked access to the rear of the property, but it was only latched, not locked. Jay entered a rectangular back yard, with fences on two sides and a tall hedge marking the other boundary. There was a shed taking up one corner and a low deck at the back of the house, running in front of both the back door and a set of patio doors.

The bungalow’s rear door was secured and seemed robust. Jay did a search for hidden keys under the door mat and the nearby potted plants but found none. He turned his attention to the patio door. It was a sliding door capable of opening on either side. He could see there was no security bar in the track. Grasping the door by the frame, he pushed up, hoping to lift one of the sliding panels out of its track. It moved, but not enough. He changed his grip and pushed again. The edge away from the hand-pull lifted up, and with a pop, the flimsy handle lock broke free. Settling the door back in its track, he slid it open and stepped inside. 

He was greeted by the musty smell of uncirculated air. Pulling out the flashlight, he aimed its light around the space. Had the place been tossed? Clothes were scattered around the living room, draped over chairs and couches. A maroon sweater lay across the top of the kitchen island. A scattering of papers and small boxes was strewn across a coffee table like a drift of fallen leaves. In spite of this, there was nothing on the floor. She left in a hurry, he concluded.

Her laptop was missing from the home office. The papers on her desk held no clues, varying from old utility bills to a Post-it note saying, ‘Buy bread’. He found a tax assessment letter from the previous year in a drawer full of files, stating that Vanshika’s financial situation was disappointingly ordinary.

A quick search of the rest of the house turned up nothing unusual. Jay returned to the living room, sat on the couch, and took a closer look at the items on the coffee table. There was a contract for a new phone, along with the usual terms, privacy notice, warranty information and a receipt. An empty box for the latest iPhone completed the collection.

Nothing incriminating. Couldn’t she at least be a sloppy criminal if she was involved? It was hard enough trying to save his crop of grapes from smoke taint. Losing the contract for those grapes because he couldn’t clear the bloody winery’s name, even if they could save the vineyard’s crop, was doubly frustrating. He grimaced, and crumpled a page of iPhone safety instructions in his fist, revealing an older model iPhone that had been lying on the table underneath it.

The phone was powered off. He turned it on, wondering if he would see a list of missed messages from the authorities. A message popped up: "No SIM Card Installed". He turned the phone off again and shoved it in a pocket.

Abruptly, he shut down the flashlight and tucked it back into his waistband. Jay went to the patio door and slid it open. He could see an outside light in the neighbour’s back yard that wasn’t there before, encouraging stealth. Turning, he tugged on the handle to slide the door closed. The panel moved easily, faster than he thought it would, picking up speed and stopping with a loud clunk when the broken lock hit the frame. A deep, bass barking started up from the neighbour’s yard.

The sound of thrashing branches came from the hedge, where it was closest to the deck, emanating from a black, rearing, canine silhouette on the other side, clearly outlined by the sulfurous radiance of the neighbour’s outside light. Jay considered running past the animal to the side gate, as it shoved at the branches. The hedge didn’t look thick enough. A breakthrough seemed imminent.

Jay ran for the other side of the yard, the one bordered by a high fence. He heard a branch snap, then the galloping of a snarling beast crossing the lawn. The fence was smooth and featureless, too tall to climb easily. Jay veered sideways into a small gap between the garden shed and the fence, a space about two and a half feet wide. A pile of logs and pruned branches was stacked at the end of the narrow gap, blocking access to the rear fence, which was equally high. Jay snatched a big, untrimmed branch off the top, about six feet long, and swung it over his head to use as a shield. He got it in front of him just in time, as the dog skidded around the corner of the shed and plunged into the opening.

A thrust, and the spread of smaller branches on the end of Jay’s makeshift spear halted the dog, a large Rottweiler. The canine behemoth took up a stance just beyond reach, barking furiously. In the distance, he could hear a voice calling.

“Caesar! Get back here!”

Jay slapped the branch against the side of the metal shed. The noise caused the dog to retreat a step, then surge forward in a renewed effort. Edging back towards the pile, Jay fumbled behind his back with one hand, finding a log he could heft. He swung the branch side to side with his other hand. Caesar dodged left and right, looking for an opening. With a yell, Jay thrust forward with his impromptu pike, while throwing the log. It flew near the dog, clanging into the shed and making the beast turn and retreat a few steps. He tossed the branch in its direction and started scrambling up the woodpile.

Desperation made for a frenzied climb, as Jay clambered over the haphazardly-stacked collection of wood. It kept shifting beneath his feet. Growling from behind, growing in volume, galvanized his efforts. He slapped his hands onto the top edge of the rear fence just as a clatter of logs announced the arrival of the feral Caesar on the wood pile. With a Herculean heave, Jay pulled himself high and threw a leg over the fence. As he teetered there on the top, he caught a glimpse of gaping teeth, before throwing himself over the edge. The fence reverberated as the dog hit it. Jay whumped into the ground and lay there, the breath knocked out of him. The barking mixed with a ringing in his ears. A shooting pain lanced through his back where he’d landed on the flashlight.

“Caesar, come here!” snapped a male voice on the other side of the fence. Jay forced himself upright and swayed a bit as he stood in the lane behind the house. The lights came on in another neighbour’s yard. He limped off down the alley as rapidly as he could.

They should have called him Brutus, Jay thought.