Chatham.” As soon as I could figure out how to set Chief Cobb on her trail.
She slammed the door behind us, clattered down the front steps.
She was almost running to reach her car, a shabby green coupe.
I was glad that she didn’t take time to realize there wasn’t a police car parked on the street and that Officer Loy was no longer behind her, but sitting beside her as the car lurched around the corner.
Irene drove too fast, lurching across Main as the light turned red.
She ran another red light and careened around corners. On the outskirts of town, she pushed even harder on the gas pedal. The car swooped up and down hills, squealed around curves. We’d gone perhaps ten miles from Adelaide when a billboard on the right announced:
Buckaroo Casino
Fun and Money
Money, Money, Money for Every Honey
The billboard sparkled with gold coins spewing from a slot machine, piling into a glistening mound.
G h o s t at Wo r k
Irene slammed out of the car and hurried in stumbling eager steps up the broad cement walk with images of green shamrocks and dia-mond rings. She pushed through the door, turned immediately to her right. She stood in a short line, pushed over the money for a bag full of change.
The huge crowded room was dimly lit except for the flash of neon.
Music blared loud enough to hurt my ears. An electric guitar echoed, drums thumped, and a hoarse-voiced man shouted lyrics. Clouds of cigarette smoke turned the dim air dusky.
Irene dashed to a line of slot machines, began to feed quarters.
She yanked the lever, watched, stuffed in another coin. One quarter after another. Squeals of excitement sounded from a buxom blonde at a nearby slot machine. A croupier’s call rose above the mutter of voices.
I’d obviously returned to an Oklahoma quite different from the one I’d departed. If anyone had told me, a lifetime ago, that there would be a gambling casino right outside Adelaide, I would have said, “When little green men arrive from Mars.” Perhaps that had happened, too.
Now I understood why Irene Chatham was a thief. All I needed to know was whether she was a murderer, too.
“Told you I’d come back, boy.” I untied the rope from the railing, gave a tug. He obediently trotted alongside. We were almost to the
Ca ro ly n H a rt
street when a woman’s voice cried out, “Shelly, look at that dog. Look at his rope. It’s up in the air as if someone’s holding it.” Behind a well-kept white picket fence, a woman bent toward the ground. A silver-haired woman with bright eyes pointed toward Jack.
“That dog’s rope is straight out like a comet’s tail.” I dropped the rope.
A young woman, balancing a baby on one hip, rose from picking up a pacifier. The baby wailed. “Every time he spits it out, he wants it back. That rope’s on the ground, Mama.”
“It was in the air.” Her voice was insistent.
I darted behind an oak, appeared, then strolled out. I picked up the rope and smiled at the neighbors. “Good morning.” The older woman continued to look puzzled.
The young mother spoke over the baby’s cry. “Are you taking that dog? Thank Heaven.”
The young mother’s response was more appropriate than she would ever realize.
She patted the baby’s back. “I’ve called the city a bunch of times to complain about how the Dickersons treat him. He’s a stray and they kept him, but half the time they don’t put any food out. I’ve been giving him kibble and water. You can’t talk to the Dickersons.” Her nose wrinkled as if she smelled rotten fish. “Mostly they’re drunk, both of them, and yelling so much in the middle of the night it wakes Tommy up.” She gave the baby a swift kiss. Then she looked distressed. “Are you taking the dog to the pound? They put them to sleep after three days.”
Jack gave a little yip.
“Absolutely not. He’s on his way to a new home.” I hoped Kathleen was up to a new family member. “Though”—I was realizing I had some challenges facing me—“I wonder if you could help out.
We have volunteers who take care of dogs while we find a new home.
It’s a new program. But I don’t have time to get any dog food. I’m on
G h o s t at Wo r k
duty.” Much as I wanted to help Jack, I had no time to shop. “Could you possibly give me enough kibble to take care of him for a couple of days?”
The older woman nodded. “Of course. I’ll dash in and get some.”
The young mother jounced the wailing baby on her hip. “Did you leave them a notice?”
My rescue mission was getting ever more complicated. I tried to appear chagrined, which wasn’t difficult. “I
