“I vow I’ll find Kodi and Shiloh and bring them home safe,” Gavin told the trio. He hoped he wouldn’t fail them. Sometimes, pets ended up in lab experiments or were sold to breeders or puppy mills. Sometimes, the criminals who stole them were looking to return them for a reward.
Soon after he left the family’s home with pictures of the pups and their favorite fetch toys, he had discovered that a white van had been sighted at the owner’s house and also in the vicinity of four other dognappings. One of the neighbors had captured a photograph of the Alaska license plate on the same van parked in a friend’s driveway when the friend wasn’t home.
Then Gavin had gotten a lead that the dogs had been flown to Alaska.
Now, he was trying to settle his stomach and pretend he wasn’t flying high above the world on his way to see London Lanier, a retired police detective in Big Lake. Gavin’s fear of crashing wasn’t just a figment of his imagination. Six months earlier, while he was still a Seattle cop, he’d survived a plane crash after jewelry-store robbers had taken him hostage.
The Alaska-bound plane hit more turbulence, and his stomach dropped. He closed his eyes, telling himself he wasn’t going to crash. Not this time. That wasn’t the only reason he hated to fly. He liked to be in control, and flying left him with no control over anything.
At least he had a lead on the pups. He wanted more than anything to return them to the family, safe and sound. The Samoyeds’ pictures reminded him of the dogs his family had raised when he was growing up. Their German shepherds had been as much family to him as his human family had been.
As soon as Gavin’s plane landed, he picked up a rental car and drove to the town where his contact was located.
London Lanier was an animal rights activist, primarily concerned with the illegal hunting of wildlife in Alaska. Gavin had called to tell him the pups had been flown to his neck of the woods, and London had begun to check into it.
When Gavin met London at his Big Lake home, he thought the retiree looked like Santa Claus, with the white beard and hair, though he was a trim version of jolly old Saint Nick. He was tall, fit, and eager to take on hunters with his bare hands.
“You look like a cop,” London said, shaking Gavin’s hand.
Gavin took the remark as a compliment. Now that he was a PI, his hair wasn’t as short as when he was on the force. Today, he looked more like a SWAT team member, with a black T-shirt, black cargo pants, and heavy-duty black boots. He was in a no-nonsense mood and ready to take the bastards down.
London served them both cups of coffee, and then he got down to business. “From what I’ve learned, a home near here has lots of dogs barking all day long, and then a few days later, most of them are gone. Shortly after that, they have a new batch of dogs. Some of their neighbors are suspicious. Since I don’t work on the police force anymore, you’ll need to do some canvassing. If you learn anything that proves they really are involved in trafficking pets, let me know, and I’ll call the police. I’m still friends with several on the force.”
London handed Gavin a hand-drawn map, saying, “I talked to the locals, but everyone knows who I am. Maybe a new guy, just looking for his pups, could convince someone to share something they didn’t tell me. Or maybe they’ve seen something new or remembered something they hadn’t thought of before. Good luck.”
“Thanks, London. I’ll let you know what happens. And I owe you.”
London smiled. “Never know when I might need a PI. Besides, if you can help us take these bastards down, you’ve done me a favor.”
Afterward, Gavin headed over to the Big Lake housing area with its high-income homes, lakefront property, trees all around, and large yards for hiding a slew of runs for stolen pets.
He pulled into the driveway of the home three doors down from the suspect’s house, parked, and went to the door. When he knocked, a gray-haired woman with bright-blue eyes greeted him with a smile.
“Ma’am, I’m a private investigator, searching for these two missing pups. They were stolen from the backyard while they were outside playing. Have you seen them? Or know anyone who might have them?”
“Oh yes, of course.” Her eyes were rounded, and she licked her lips. “She’s my next-door neighbor.”
He frowned and glanced at his map. That wasn’t the correct house. At least, not according to London. “Are you sure?”
“Yes. She has dogs all the time. Not the same ones though. I see her out walking them along the road in the late spring, summer, early fall. Even in the winter when we’re buried in snow. Always different dogs. I figured she fostered them or something. I saw her with two of the cutest little Samoyed pups earlier, maybe six months old? Not sure. They look exactly like yours.”
“Do you know her name?”
“Amelia White. She lives alone. Well, except for the revolving door of dogs. I never considered that any of the dogs could have been stolen.”
“What about the people at this place?” Gavin pointed to the house on the map that London had targeted.
“Oh yeah, sure. Did London send you? He already asked me.”
“You didn’t mention Amelia to him?”
“No. She’s so sweet. I really didn’t think she could be involved in anything so nefarious. But she does have two Samoyed puppies. And that’s what you’re looking for, right? I hadn’t seen them with her before yesterday morning.”
“And the other people?”
“Oh, the Michaelses? Asher and Mindy? Yes, I wouldn’t be surprised at all about them. Not sure what he does. They don’t seem to have a regular occupation, just…money and lots of dogs. They don’t walk them. The dogs just bark most of the time, and I’ve seen all of them rushing to the chain-link fence when I’ve taken strolls past the place. Different dogs all the time.”
“What does Miss White do?”
“She’s a seaplane pilot. Her family owns the business.”
“Thanks.” It would be easy to move stolen pets around as a pilot, wouldn’t it? No paperwork hassle. Just fly them where they needed to go. What were the chances that both people were involved in the illegal trade of pets? Maybe Amelia took care of the overflow and the transportation. It would be convenient, with her living so close to the Michaelses.
Gavin drove to Amelia’s house first, since she apparently had dogs like the ones he was looking for. He’d start surveillance on the Michaelses after that.
He parked and headed for the large, blue-vinyl-sided home, where he climbed the porch stairs. No dogs barked as he approached, and the front door was slightly ajar. That’s when two curious little Samoyed pups poked their noses out, probably hearing his footsteps.