NOSES IN MY MIDST
By Jess the Dog
Lady
DO NOT REPRODUCE THIS BEFORE ASKING
ME!!!
CHAPTER ONE
She watched him walk away from the two-story brownstone, as usual, on his way to the
gym. He’d be gone for an hour; then he’d return home to spend the rest of the evening
watching T.V. He was six feet tall and trying to get into shape, but not very cut yet. He’d
be her largest to date, and she was preparing for it more than usual.
Every day, she worked out for four hours, then ran for two more hours. She knew she
was ready when she’d finally beaten her kick-boxing and street-survival coaches in the
ring. It wasn’t that she’d finally beaten them; it was that it’d taken several club members
to pull her off her instructors when she wouldn’t stop her drive to conquer and kill once
they were down. At a mere six inches above five feet in height, she had become
physically stronger as her mental empowerment increased.
Each previous man had led the way to the next, and this time would be no different.
She watched the man walk away, then walked around the back of his home to the back
door. She took the stolen key out of her pocket, and silently opened the door, just like
she’d done every night this past week. Once inside, with the kitchen door silently shut
and locked behind her, she walked quietly towards the stairs which would lead to the
upper level. She passed the small living room and felt the smooth wood of the banister
under her fingertips. As she hit the third step, it creaked just like it always had. She
reached the landing and headed for his bedroom. In the past, laying on his bed had
made her feel so close to him. She could smell him on the sheets which adorned his
unmade bed. The feel of his thick comforter around her body surrounded her in his
presence, and she wanted to be as close to her target as possible.
She set her small duffle bag on the table, opened it, then glanced at her watch to check
the time. She had plenty of it for what she needed to do. The dental picks, restraints
and drill were light in her hands, and as she reached for the weight of her Glock 9 mm
handgun, it felt like an extension of her own arm. She pulled open a tarp and laid it so
as to cover as much as the carpeting as possible. She wished he didn’t have such light
floor-coverings, but such was life. Only twenty minutes to go by her watch’s estimate,
so she sat on his bed and waited.
Later, as she was cleaning up, she looked at his still form lying on the bed. In her mind,
he appeared at peace. He was missing teeth from his bloodied mouth, and his broken
fingers stood askew to his hands. The last segment of several toes laid dormant on the
carpeting, graying from a lack of blood flow. She pulled him up further into bed and
covered him neatly with the thick comforter, before wiping the bolt sutters carefully with
toilet paper. One final look around the room told her she’d gotten every last detail
squared away, so she flushed the boodied wads of paper down the drain. The
bloodstains were minimal, but she didn’t dare take the time to clean them up. Her work
was done, as she looked in the Ball jar one last time. His scrotum and teeth were just
sticky enough to adhere to the jar’s inner surface. Since he had no family and he
worked from home, she had several days before she needed to worry about being
sought.
The pager went off on the Dog Lady’s night stand. It was the third time in as many
weeks, always in the early morning hours. She checked the number, then cleared her
pager’s memory of the incoming event. In a few moment, her Satellite phone would
ring, so she turned off the ringer. Ten minutes after that, her home phone would begin
to ring as well, so she made sure it was set to not ring, then tried to fall back asleep.
Since her retirement, she’d gotten numerous calls for service, but none had been as
frequent or as determined as these last few contacts had been.
The phone rang downstairs, heard through her light sleep. She could hear her daughter
chattering in her room as she was now also awake. Frustrated, the Dog Lady rolled
from bed and went in to dress her daughter for school. Scout followed her slowly, the
morning’s arthritic symptoms showing themselves. The Dog Lady tried not to notice her
best working dog’s change in gait, but it was futile. The limping was getting worse and
all the supplements and pain killers in the world couldn’t hide the fact that Scout was
getting older. The Dog Lady’s daughter greeted her at her bedroom door, then headed
over to the pile of warm clothes she’d collected for her day’s school attire.
Scout watched every movement and gesture carefully, so the Dog Lady was cautious
about making sudden movements around the dog when her daughter was around.
Scout had increased her protective behaviors ever since the fire, when her owner’s
boarding kennels and home were burned almost to the ground. Scout watched
everything now, never forgiving herself for not catching the arsonist. She’d aged
several years in the last few weeks, and those years would never come off of her. The
Dog Lady dressed the child slowly, then let her lead the way out the bedroom door
towards the kitchen. With a grunt, Scout pressed herself between the child and the Dog
Lady, then watched the child from a mere six inches away as she descended the steps.
At the bottom of the stairs, Scout allowed herself to be seperated from the child long
enough to go outside and potty, which gave the Dog Lady time to get her daughter fed
and ready for school.
The school had accomodated the Dog Lady on allowing the dog to follow the child
everywhere during the day, and of that she was appreciative. To be honest, she felt
better knowing her child was being watched that closely. After her daughter was fed
breakfast, she heard the dogs outside beginning to bark wildly, even before she heard
the electric gate buzzer begin to sound. Sending her daughter into the secret
wall-based vault, a room lined with titanium plates that could be used as a sanctuary in
times of need, she heard her daughter throw the bolt. As soon as that bolt was thrown,
all the dogs from the yard had gained a quick entry into the vault to keep the child
company.
The Dog Lady grabbed her trusty S&W .357 before walking outside to greet a black
Lincoln Continental. Agents Marcus and MacConnell alit as she walked up to them,
holstering her weapon.
“We’ve been trying to reach you. Can we come inside?” Marcus asked her. Tall and
lean, he didn’t appear formidable but the Dog Lady knew better.
“Sure. Coffee?” She replied, as she triggered the automatic release to the vault’s doors.
“Wait here,” She commanded the gentlemen as she entered the home alone to gain
control of the dogs and place then back outside. As soon as they were secured away
from the agents, the Dog Lady welcomed them coldly into her home.
“”We’ve been trying to reach you. There’s a case you need to come out and work.”
Marcus informed her as he accepted the proffered mug of steaming hot coffee.
“I’m retired. I’m raising Hell on her P.T.A. now.” She replied, pointing to the child
wearing “Teletubbies” shoes.
“We know. We’re here because we know you’ll change your mind.” Marcus
replied.
“Change my mind? Why? I’m living the quiet life now” She responded.
“Ahhhhh..... you’re just bored. You’ll take this case. The perp is probably a woman and
the last man killed was once a friend of yours. Remember Doyle? Put up for a drug
conviction in a Federal facility? He’s dead.” Marcus informed the Dog Lady.
She sat down quickly and took a deep breath. “Was it drug related? His being dead, I
mean?” She queried.
“It doesn’t appear so. It looks like he just fit her profile. We need a dog who can work a
murder trailing case, and also one who can work decomp/ cadaver. You’ll need to get
that fat dog out of your yard and put her back to work.” He informed her.
“She isn’t fat,” The Dog Lady replied absent-mindedly. “She’s big-boned. She’s also
retired. Look, I’m sorry he’s dead, but you’re going to need another handler to take this
case.” She said as she headed over to a Rolodex to start flipping through cards. “Look,
get a pen and paper. Here’re some names of handlers who need to try out their dogs
on a real case, plus some handlers who’ve already proven their worth. Give them a call
and they’ll help you out.”.
”No, you already worked one call-out regarding Doyle, so these cases are yours. Also,
the Attorney General and Secretary of Defense have already requested you and your
dog specifically. You can’t refuse a court order of this magnitude, and you know it.”
Marcus replied, as he handed over a sheaf of documents pertaining to the court order.
The Dog Lady read through them briefly, then picked up the phone.
“Mom, I need you to watch the baby. I have to go to work.” I informed her. While my
explosives detection dog, Colonel, wouldn’t be joining me on this case, although he’d
been the dog I’d actually used to search Doyle’s plane, it was my case and I had to
follow through with it. As I talked to her briefly over the phone, I looked out the window
at the two dogs in my yard.
“I need you to do me a favor, Mom.” The Dog Lady outlined her situation. “Also, can
Scout stay with the baby? I think we’ll be gone a week.” It broke her heart to leave
Scout at home, but she had no choice. Scout was joined at the hip to her child, and
Scout’s arthritis was getting serious enough to let the Dog Lady know when it was time
to say, ‘When.’
After she hung up, she turned to the agents, “I can be ready in one hour, after I drop my
daughter off at school. Where do you want us to meet you?” She asked them. “I’m
bringing a new dog.” She added as an after-thought.
“Can she do what we need?” MacConnell queried.
“I guess we’ll find out, now won’t we?” The Dog Lady replied as she helped her child
into her coat and back-pack.
“Bring your passport. You’ll be flying first class, as usual. There are two extra seats
reserved for the dog.”
She watched him walk away from the two-story brownstone, as usual, on his way to the
gym. He’d be gone for an hour; then he’d return home to spend the rest of the evening
watching T.V. He was six feet tall and trying to get into shape, but not very cut yet. He’d
be her largest to date, and she was preparing for it more than usual.
Every day, she worked out for four hours, then ran for two more hours. She knew she
was ready when she’d finally beaten her kick-boxing and street-survival coaches in the
ring. It wasn’t that she’d finally beaten them; it was that it’d taken several club members
to pull her off her instructors when she wouldn’t stop her drive to conquer and kill once
they were down. At a mere six inches above five feet in height, she had become
physically stronger as her mental empowerment increased.
Each previous man had led the way to the next, and this time would be no different.
She watched the man walk away, then walked around the back of his home to the back
door. She took the stolen key out of her pocket, and silently opened the door, just like
she’d done every night this past week. Once inside, with the kitchen door silently shut
and locked behind her, she walked quietly towards the stairs which would lead to the
upper level. She passed the small living room and felt the smooth wood of the banister
under her fingertips. As she hit the third step, it creaked just like it always had. She
reached the landing and headed for his bedroom. In the past, laying on his bed had
made her feel so close to him. She could smell him on the sheets which adorned his
unmade bed. The feel of his thick comforter around her body surrounded her in his
presence, and she wanted to be as close to her target as possible.
She set her small duffle bag on the table, opened it, then glanced at her watch to check
the time. She had plenty of it for what she needed to do. The dental picks, restraints
and drill were light in her hands, and as she reached for the weight of her Glock 9 mm
handgun, it felt like an extension of her own arm. She pulled open a tarp and laid it so
as to cover as much as the carpeting as possible. She wished he didn’t have such light
floor-coverings, but such was life. Only twenty minutes to go by her watch’s estimate,
so she sat on his bed and waited.
Later, as she was cleaning up, she looked at his still form lying on the bed. In her mind,
he appeared at peace. He was missing teeth from his bloodied mouth, and his broken
fingers stood askew to his hands. The last segment of several toes laid dormant on the
carpeting, graying from a lack of blood flow. She pulled him up further into bed and
covered him neatly with the thick comforter, before wiping the bolt sutters carefully with
toilet paper. One final look around the room told her she’d gotten every last detail
squared away, so she flushed the boodied wads of paper down the drain. The
bloodstains were minimal, but she didn’t dare take the time to clean them up. Her work
was done, as she looked in the Ball jar one last time. His scrotum and teeth were just
sticky enough to adhere to the jar’s inner surface. Since he had no family and he
worked from home, she had several days before she needed to worry about being
sought.
The pager went off on the Dog Lady’s night stand. It was the third time in as many
weeks, always in the early morning hours. She checked the number, then cleared her
pager’s memory of the incoming event. In a few moment, her Satellite phone would
ring, so she turned off the ringer. Ten minutes after that, her home phone would begin
to ring as well, so she made sure it was set to not ring, then tried to fall back asleep.
Since her retirement, she’d gotten numerous calls for service, but none had been as
frequent or as determined as these last few contacts had been.
The phone rang downstairs, heard through her light sleep. She could hear her daughter
chattering in her room as she was now also awake. Frustrated, the Dog Lady rolled
from bed and went in to dress her daughter for school. Scout followed her slowly, the
morning’s arthritic symptoms showing themselves. The Dog Lady tried not to notice her
best working dog’s change in gait, but it was futile. The limping was getting worse and
all the supplements and pain killers in the world couldn’t hide the fact that Scout was
getting older. The Dog Lady’s daughter greeted her at her bedroom door, then headed
over to the pile of warm clothes she’d collected for her day’s school attire.
Scout watched every movement and gesture carefully, so the Dog Lady was cautious
about making sudden movements around the dog when her daughter was around.
Scout had increased her protective behaviors ever since the fire, when her owner’s
boarding kennels and home were burned almost to the ground. Scout watched
everything now, never forgiving herself for not catching the arsonist. She’d aged
several years in the last few weeks, and those years would never come off of her. The
Dog Lady dressed the child slowly, then let her lead the way out the bedroom door
towards the kitchen. With a grunt, Scout pressed herself between the child and the Dog
Lady, then watched the child from a mere six inches away as she descended the steps.
At the bottom of the stairs, Scout allowed herself to be seperated from the child long
enough to go outside and potty, which gave the Dog Lady time to get her daughter fed
and ready for school.
The school had accomodated the Dog Lady on allowing the dog to follow the child
everywhere during the day, and of that she was appreciative. To be honest, she felt
better knowing her child was being watched that closely. After her daughter was fed
breakfast, she heard the dogs outside beginning to bark wildly, even before she heard
the electric gate buzzer begin to sound. Sending her daughter into the secret
wall-based vault, a room lined with titanium plates that could be used as a sanctuary in
times of need, she heard her daughter throw the bolt. As soon as that bolt was thrown,
all the dogs from the yard had gained a quick entry into the vault to keep the child
company.
The Dog Lady grabbed her trusty S&W .357 before walking outside to greet a black
Lincoln Continental. Agents Marcus and MacConnell alit as she walked up to them,
holstering her weapon.
“We’ve been trying to reach you. Can we come inside?” Marcus asked her. Tall and
lean, he didn’t appear formidable but the Dog Lady knew better.
“Sure. Coffee?” She replied, as she triggered the automatic release to the vault’s doors.
“Wait here,” She commanded the gentlemen as she entered the home alone to gain
control of the dogs and place then back outside. As soon as they were secured away
from the agents, the Dog Lady welcomed them coldly into her home.
“”We’ve been trying to reach you. There’s a case you need to come out and work.”
Marcus informed her as he accepted the proffered mug of steaming hot coffee.
“I’m retired. I’m raising Hell on her P.T.A. now.” She replied, pointing to the child
wearing “Teletubbies” shoes.
“We know. We’re here because we know you’ll change your mind.” Marcus
replied.
“Change my mind? Why? I’m living the quiet life now” She responded.
“Ahhhhh..... you’re just bored. You’ll take this case. The perp is probably a woman and
the last man killed was once a friend of yours. Remember Doyle? Put up for a drug
conviction in a Federal facility? He’s dead.” Marcus informed the Dog Lady.
She sat down quickly and took a deep breath. “Was it drug related? His being dead, I
mean?” She queried.
“It doesn’t appear so. It looks like he just fit her profile. We need a dog who can work a
murder trailing case, and also one who can work decomp/ cadaver. You’ll need to get
that fat dog out of your yard and put her back to work.” He informed her.
“She isn’t fat,” The Dog Lady replied absent-mindedly. “She’s big-boned. She’s also
retired. Look, I’m sorry he’s dead, but you’re going to need another handler to take this
case.” She said as she headed over to a Rolodex to start flipping through cards. “Look,
get a pen and paper. Here’re some names of handlers who need to try out their dogs
on a real case, plus some handlers who’ve already proven their worth. Give them a call
and they’ll help you out.”.
”No, you already worked one call-out regarding Doyle, so these cases are yours. Also,
the Attorney General and Secretary of Defense have already requested you and your
dog specifically. You can’t refuse a court order of this magnitude, and you know it.”
Marcus replied, as he handed over a sheaf of documents pertaining to the court order.
The Dog Lady read through them briefly, then picked up the phone.
“Mom, I need you to watch the baby. I have to go to work.” I informed her. While my
explosives detection dog, Colonel, wouldn’t be joining me on this case, although he’d
been the dog I’d actually used to search Doyle’s plane, it was my case and I had to
follow through with it. As I talked to her briefly over the phone, I looked out the window
at the two dogs in my yard.
“I need you to do me a favor, Mom.” The Dog Lady outlined her situation. “Also, can
Scout stay with the baby? I think we’ll be gone a week.” It broke her heart to leave
Scout at home, but she had no choice. Scout was joined at the hip to her child, and
Scout’s arthritis was getting serious enough to let the Dog Lady know when it was time
to say, ‘When.’
After she hung up, she turned to the agents, “I can be ready in one hour, after I drop my
daughter off at school. Where do you want us to meet you?” She asked them. “I’m
bringing a new dog.” She added as an after-thought.
“Can she do what we need?” MacConnell queried.
“I guess we’ll find out, now won’t we?” The Dog Lady replied as she helped her child
into her coat and back-pack.
“Bring your passport. You’ll be flying first class, as usual. There are two extra seats
reserved for the dog.”