Dog Whisperer (13 page)

Zack enjoyed riding in any car, and he stood up on the backseat, pressing his nose against the thick wire barricade separating them from the front seat. It was funny to imagine him as a criminal who had just been arrested.

When the police car pulled up in front of her house, her parents came rushing out, looking alarmed.

“What happened?” her mother asked. “Are you all right?”

Emily nodded. “We got a ride home, that's all.” She turned towards Officer McBride. “Don't worry, I promise I won't shoplift anymore.”

Officer McBride looked very stern. “Well, consider this your last warning. If it happens again, you'll be serving time.”

Emily nodded solemnly, and then held up her hands. “Will baby oil take care of the rest of the fingerprint ink?”

Officer Rowland nodded. “It's worth trying. Although we usually recommend lemon juice.”

Her mother had a wry smile on her face, but her father looked as though he was about to have a severe anxiety attack. He was probably already calculating how much damage an arrest record might do to her chances of getting in to a good college.

“Kurt fell off his bike,” she said, so that her father would relax already. “So, I called 911.”

Her father looked even more worried. “Did you and Zack do anything dangerous?”

“Well,” Emily said, and pretended to think. “I pushed three numbers into my phone, and if you're not really careful, I think you can get carpal tunnel syndrome from that.”

Her parents exchanged glances.

“If this is what you're like at twelve,” her mother said, “I can't tell you how much I am dreading your teen years.”

Emily laughed the most wicked laugh she knew how to laugh.

“I'm beginning to think that we just shouldn't let you two go outside anymore,” her father said wryly.

Sometimes, these days, Emily felt that way herself!

 

13

Even though Emily knew he yearned for a heaping dish of meat, Zack seemed quite happy with his kibble and two small cubes of cheddar cheese. Emily always liked to put a couple of little treats into his food, and Zack always seemed to be delighted and surprised when he found them in his dish.

After dinner, Emily took him out to the backyard. Zack ambled around, sniffing at trees and bushes and rocks. She was pretty sure that he liked to look around for possible wildlife—squirrels, raccoons, rabbits, whatever—but, that he would be stunned and confused, if he actually found any.

It was fun to lie out on one of their wooden lawn chairs, and stare up at the sky. Since the weather was getting so much cooler, there weren't many mosquitos or black flies around anymore, which made it even more pleasant. Zack came over every so often, to rest his head on her arm, and look at her intensely. Then, he would wander away again.

After a while, her mother came out and sat on the chair next to hers.

“It's getting a little late,” she said. “Maybe it's time to take a shower and start getting ready for bed?”

Probably, yeah, but, it was so nice out, that she was in no rush to go inside. “Okay,” Emily said. “But, can I stay out here just a little longer?”

“You
may
,” her mother said. “That is, if your homework is in good shape.”

Emily nodded, since she had finished all of it earlier. Sometimes, she procrastinated, and ended up with a bunch of work to do after dinner. Whenever that happened, the assignments seemed harder than usual, because she would be tired. On the days when she started working on it as soon as she got home from school, she was always relieved later on that she had done it that way.

“I think you're already growing out of some of your new school clothes,” her mother said. “We may need to do some shopping soon.”

Emily nodded. She wasn't very particular about clothes—but, pants that were too short looked
really
goofy.

The moon had risen, and was casting beautiful, reflective light across the ocean channel. There wasn't much wind tonight, but the sound of small waves washing across the rocks was very calming.

“You seem very quiet lately,” her mother said.

She did? One of the many bad things about not having a brother or sister was that she thought it made her naturally inclined to be quiet. Well, to be more accurate, not having siblings she was allowed to
know
, or even meet.

“Is everything okay at school?” her mother asked.

“Mostly, sure,” Emily said. “It's a lot of new people and teachers and everything, but it feels more familiar now, and they almost all seem nice.”

“
Almost
?” her mother said.

Emily shrugged. “It's a pretty big school. I
want
to like everyone, but a few of them are kind of annoying. But, I figure that some of them aren't all that crazy about me, either, so it's okay.”

“Anyone in particular?” her mother asked.

When her mother sounded too casual, it was always obvious that she was probing for answers. “A couple of guys who act like they're five years old,” Emily said. “And a few girls who care way too much about being popular.”

Her mother nodded. “I'm afraid that's true of just about every school on the planet.”

Probably. Maybe it was just human nature. “Sometimes, I wouldn't mind if there were more, you know, people of color there,” Emily said. “Then, maybe, I wouldn't stick out quite as much.” Which always made her feel self-conscious.

Her mother looked very alert. “Is anyone behaving badly towards you?”

Emily shook her head. If anything, they were
extra-
friendly, to show that it totally didn't matter. But, them acting like that made it seem as though it
did
matter.

“You've had a lot of changes all at once,” her mother said. “And I guess I want to make sure that it doesn't all start to feel as though it's too much.”

That was definitely true. It was October, and back in July, she never would have thought that she would have a dog, and that he would be able to communicate with her and read her mind, and that she would find out just enough about her birth mother to feel frustrated—and hurt.

And, yeah, she never would have predicted that she would start being able to see ghosts, too.

For starters.

“You're quiet again,” her mother said.

Probably because she spent so much time thinking these days.

“In some ways, it feels as though absolutely everything has changed since you found Zack,” her mother said.

Hearing his name, Zack lifted his head, wagged his tail twice, and then settled down on the grass again.

Emily sometimes forgot that she had only had Zack for a few months, since it felt as though he had always lived with them. But, her mother seemed to be trying to work her way towards a specific question, and Emily hoped that it wasn't going to be anything she didn't want to answer. “Everything's a lot better, since I got him,” Emily said. “Having him really makes me happy.”

“Oh, I know,” her mother said. “I guess I just wish that the two of you would spend a little less time being heroic.”

“We don't do it on purpose,” Emily said defensively.

“No,” her mother agreed. “And you've certainly helped a lot of people. But, I'm very worried that you aren't being careful enough.”

Emily was going to disagree, but in the heat of the moment, her first thought was rarely about being careful. “I don't think you need to worry. Zack won't let me do anything that isn't safe.”

Her mother nodded, although she didn't look convinced. “I hope not.”

They sat there, listening to the waves, and the crickets, and what sounded like an owl some distance away.

“There really isn't anything you can't tell me, or your father,” her mother said. “We're always here to listen, and try to help you in any way we can. So, you never have to worry about that.”

Emily believed that was true, but that didn't necessarily mean that she was ready to share everything. “There are things I feel okay talking about,” she said, “and there are things I would rather try to work through by myself.”

“That sounds sensible enough,” her mother said. “But, I hope you
do
tell us when things are bothering you, and let us help.”

For a second, Emily wondered if this might be the right time to tell her about Zack, and the mind communication—and maybe even the ghost.

But, no, she really wasn't ready yet.

“What?” her mother asked.

Emily sighed. “Is being thirteen going to be even more complicated than being
twelve
seems to be?”

Her mother smiled at her. “Yes. I suspect that it probably is.”

Boy, was
that
hard to imagine.

*   *   *

When she got upstairs, she spent a little time on the Internet, trying to find out more information about the Griswolds. The best source seemed to be the archives of all of the local newspapers, especially the
Bailey's Cove Bugle
.

She didn't know exactly when the car accident had been, but it had happened sometime around the holidays, when she was very small. So, she set up a search for approximately ten years earlier, and entered the word “Griswold.”

A
lot
of references instantly came up. She looked at the first few articles, and they were about boring stuff like bond issues and property taxes. So, she changed her search to “Griswold
+
accident,” and only about twenty articles appeared this time.

The stories were
really
sad. The Griswolds had been at a holiday party, on a snowy December night, and there were lots of photos of the crash. Even though the light wasn't very good, Emily recognized her father—looking a lot younger—in one of the pictures, working with some other people to try and free Mrs. Griswold from the battered car.

The worst part was that Mrs. Griswold had tested positive for alcohol that night! But, the articles all said that the police made statements that her blood alcohol level was way below the legal limit, and that she had probably had a glass of wine or eggnog at the party. So, she hadn't been drunk, but she had definitely had at least one drink. Mr. Griswold's blood alcohol level was a little bit higher—close to the legal limit—so, that might be why she was the one who had been driving.

Some of the quotes from people in the articles about the crash only talked about drinking and driving, which seemed pretty mean. Other quotes were mostly sympathetic, and sad. The rest of the articles included Mr. Griswold's obituary, a funeral notice, and a bunch of stories and editorials about Mrs. Griswold resigning as mayor, after the accident. Most people seemed to think that she should have stayed on as mayor, but in every single article, it said something like “Abigail Griswold could not be reached for a comment.” She was described in one of the reports as being “a recluse,” who was no longer involved in any town activities.

At the end of Mr. Griswold's obituary, it said that he was survived by his wife, Abigail Connolly Griswold, of Bailey's Cove, and his son, Henry Matthew Griswold, from Wiscasset, which was about twenty-five miles away.

Wait, Mrs. Griswold had a
son
? Maybe he came to visit her all the time, but Emily had never noticed. Only, if they were close, wouldn't he have shown up at the hospital when she got hurt during the hurricane? So, maybe they weren't in touch? If that was true, then it would have to be very sad and painful for Mrs. Griswold, and probably for her son, too.

Just to see what would come up, she entered “Henry Griswold” and “Wiscasset” into a couple of search engines, as well as the archives of the town newspaper in Wiscasset. A surprising amount of information immediately popped up, including a couple of websites which listed him as a participant in some local fishing tournaments, and several newspaper articles which said that he coached Little League, and talked about his team's results in various games. She even found a website for “Griswold Hardware” on Surf Street in Wiscasset. The picture of the man smiling in front of the store was the
same
man in a picture with the Little League team.

Wow. Her parents were always saying that she needed to be careful on the Internet, and that nothing was private, even if she thought it was. She got tired of hearing about it, but, maybe they were right, after all. It certainly was easy to find out a lot of information about a person!

“If you don't get some sleep, you are never going to be able to get up tomorrow morning, Emily,” her father said from the doorway.

Emily looked up from the computer. “Oh, okay. Is it late?” She glanced at the clock. It was just past eleven, which meant that it was past time for her to be in bed. So, she logged off the websites she was on, and shut her computer down.

“Were you doing anything unsafe that would make your mother and me gasp and faint?” he asked.

Emily grinned. Her father was very goofy. “Just giving a bunch of strangers my name and address and telephone number, and stuff like that.”

Her father laughed. “Okay. Nothing to worry about, then.”

She had gotten a lot of lectures about Internet safety over the years from her parents
and
her teachers. So, she actually was very careful, and kept her privacy settings high, and only “friended” people whom she
knew
in real life, and that sort of thing.

Her parents still always tucked her in at night, but she had asked them to call it “saying good-night,” since it sounded more grown-up. The fact that her mother turned her pillow for her, and made sure the sheets and blankets were pushed neatly under the mattress and so forth was just a coincidence.

When Emily came back into the room after brushing her teeth, her mother was, indeed, busy straightening the sheets and blankets on the bed. Zachary had already stretched out across the mattress, which was making the job a lot more complicated, of course.