Dickey shoved Carla behind him, gun in hand, he opened the door. The man in the yard, turned, dropped the shovel he was holding, and started for the gate. Dickie was down the stairs and on the guy in seconds.
"Call for backup," Dickie said to Mona, who was already on the phone.
A few minutes later she said, "Jimi's on his way."
"This should be interesting," muttered Carla.
Dickie had the guy's hands zipped tied behind his back and his face on the ground. The man's clothes were dirty, as if he'd been sleeping and working in them. He was disheveled and looked like someone who had been pushed far beyond his limits.
"Who are you?"
The man laughed.
"I asked you a question," said Dickie, his voice threatening. "WHO, are you?"
"I'm nobody, man. Nobody at all."
Mona believed him. She walked down the stairs and went to stand next to Dickie, who told her to go inside.
She sat down, next to the man. "Who's doing this to you? What do they have on you?"
The man smiled. "Do you really think I'm going to tell you anything?"
"I'd like to help you."
"No one can help me," he said.
"Is someone holding your family, or someone you care about?"
"Do you think I'd tell you if they were?"
"What's going to happen now?" she asked. "At least if you tell us what's going on, you may have a chance..."
He started laughing, one of those laughs that was part funny and part out of control, just as Jimi walked into the yard.
Mona went back to the stairs, while Dickie and Jimi talked. Jimi looked at Carla now and then, but otherwise, kept his mind on the job. The perp was standing and Jimi had his hand at the back of the guy's neck.
"How long since you've seen him?" asked Mona.
"About six months," said Carla.
"You broke his heart."
"It happens."
"It does," agreed Mona.
"I think Dickie is right. People should move on and not stay in the same neighborhood. I don't think we're meant to know everyone for their whole lives."
"Maybe, but I wouldn't want you to move away."
Carla nodded. "I have no answers for anything."
"No one does."
"We're leaving," said Dickie. "Go inside and lock the doors and windows. A car will be in front."
"Nothing is happening IN FRONT, Dickie," said Carla, standing up. "The car should be in the BACK, WHERE THE DEAD GUYS END UP."
"Fine. A car will be in the back," he said, and followed Jimi through the gate, passing Charlie, who had a stick in his mouth.
Charlie brought the stick to Mona, dropped it, and let Mona rub his face and give him kisses. Then he moved to Carla for more of the same.
"Where did you meet Joyce Ricee, with two ee's, the first 'e' being silent?"
"Book club."
"You were in a book club?"
"Yeah. Is that so strange to you?"
Mona thought for a second and then said, "Yes. Yes, it is."
"There was wine and pizza."
"Ah. Not so strange then."
"Sci-fi and magic books, so it was cool. Joyce was there and seemed very talented. She had a good rep and loved animals with a passion. We had coffee a few times and she told me the things some of the animals said to her. A dog didn't like the new dog in the family at all. He stopped eating, he was so unhappy, since no one paid any attention to him any longer. One dog hated it when the man in the house sang to the records he played. Another was upset because the cat kept sleeping in his bed and eating his food. Stories like that."
"I'm happy she can help them."
"She can't always help them because the humans involved don't always believer her, or take her advice, so the animals suffer."
"That has to be hard."
Carla nodded. "You want me to stay here tonight, or should I go home?"
"I'm fine. I doubt they'll be another dead guy, so go. I'll see you in the morning."
"Lock the door after me," said Carla, "If you need me call, I'll come right over."
"Thanks."
"Sweet dreams."
"You too," said Mona.
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