Chapter Sixteen
Fox
By the time we were arriving at our destination, Reggie had smeared green purée all over him. Haze had discovered trying to shovel it into him with a plastic spoon in the back of a car was not a good idea. I figured the odds were he must’ve got at least some of it down him.
I drove slowly down the road the factory was on.
It actually looked quite nice around here in daylight.
There were two commercial buildings on the same road, all a good distance apart.
One was a furniture company and the other a storage facility.
The factory was at the end of the road. It was a starred dump site due to the fact there was never anyone around in the evening, and there was no CCTV outside the factory.
Jenny had looked into it and the owners of the building had no plans to develop the site.
It had lain empty for five years since a variety of health infractions had closed it down.
We were halfway down the road when we saw the flashing lights of a parked fire engine ahead.
I turned to Haze. “What’s our plan?”
“Dog?”
I drove slowly down the road until we were parallel with the fire engine. I stopped and rolled down my window.
A tall fireman spotted us and came over. “You okay?”
“Sorry, I’m sure you’re busy, but we’re looking for our dog. I don’t suppose you’ve seen a small black French bulldog cross-breed? She slipped her collar chasing a rabbit and someone said they saw her running down this road.”
The fireman shook his head. “We’ve only been here an hour and haven’t seen any dogs.”
“What’s going on? The usual teens causing trouble?” I motioned toward the smoking pile of embers just outside the factory.
“Looks like it.”
“You guys here for a while? Our dog is a nervous little thing. She could be scared of all the lights and be hiding until you’ve gone.”
“We’re just waiting to get hold of who owns the building.”
I chuckled. “That place has been abandoned for so long, doubt they’d even notice if damage has been done to it.”
“You locals?”
“It’s a favorite walking route. Are we okay to park up and look for her?”
The fireman shrugged. “No problem.” He walked back to his colleagues. Judging from the ash pile, it hadn’t been that large a fire.
“Kind of overkill, isn’t it?” Haze stared over at the four men walking around the site.
“Must be a quiet afternoon. You stay with Reggie. I’ll go for a walk around.
” I got out of the car and made a big show of calling out “Sausage!” as I traipsed up and down the road, only risking the occasional glance at the factory.
Bibi had chosen the name Sausage. It had been embarrassing at first, shouting it out in the park, but now I was as oblivious to its ridiculousness as I was to her neon-pink diamante collar and lead.
After a suitably dedicated performance of a good five minutes, I returned to the car and got back into the driver’s seat. “It looks like they’re packing up. I think we’re okay.”
“They’re not going round the back?” The water tower was just behind the factory.
“If they haven’t already, I don’t think they will.”
Crisis averted. We could let Jenny know she needed to keep an eye on things, but it seemed we were going to be okay.
Just as I started the engine, the tall fireman came rushing up to our car. “Your dog was lost where, exactly?”
Haze leaned forward. “Just around here somewhere. We’re going to keep driving. We can’t lose her—she’s everything to us.” She clasped a hand to her chest.
“I don’t want to get your hopes up, but I think your dog has been found.”
Sausage was safely tucked up at home with her favorite bone.
“Wow!” That was all I could say. “You’ve found a lost black French bulldog cross? Really?”
“It’s a small black female dog, no collar. The individual who found her wasn’t sure what breed it was. But they’re bringing her here, as it’s on their way to the shelter.”
I checked my watch. “We actually need—”
“Great!” Haze tapped my shoulder. “Would be amazing if it really is her. We’ve been so worried.”
“Just hold tight. She’ll be here soon.” He gave us a smile and crossed his fingers, then walked back to his colleagues.
“We’re going to be late for Bibi!” I looked at Haze.
“We said we’d lost our beloved dog. It would look pretty suspicious if we didn’t bother hanging around to see if it was her.”
She was right. We were cutting it fine, but we had to protect our cover story.
Ten minutes later, there was no sign of the rescued dog.
Twenty minutes later, I told the fireman that our neighbor had called to say they thought they’d found our dog. Happy days! The fireman said we should still wait to check, as wasn’t this where we’d lost the dog? And if she didn’t have a collar, how could our neighbor be sure?
Haze had tried frantically searching her photo gallery for a picture of Sausage not wearing her collar so we could assure him she’d been correctly located.
Thirty-two minutes later, a car arrived with an overexcited black female dog in the back. Adorable, lost, but—surprise, surprise—not our dog. We thanked all the assembled people for their assistance and finally left.
For the first ten minutes of driving, we still had hope we could make it to Bibi’s recital. We’d be okay. Missing-the-beginning-but-creeping-in-at-the-back-type okay.
That was right up until we pulled to a halt behind a truck and a man in a hi-vis vest standing in the road, telling us it was closed and there were diversions in place.
We looked at each other.
We weren’t going to make it.