“I’m so happy for you,” Aruna sighed. “Now we just need Catherine to have one.”
There was coughing, like Catherine swallowed a bug or something, and then the click of disconnect.
Tired and giddy, the rest of us couldn’t stop laughing.
ARUNA AND Liam were gone an hour later, right after Aruna explained that she’d cooked to stock my refrigerator, and I got to hear Chickie’s latest tale of valor. Apparently Aruna was at the park with some other mothers, and a man came asking for money. He had a friend with him, and they inadvertently put themselves between the mothers and the children. Aruna got scared and called Chickie.
Just fuckin’ called him.
He was lying beside the small jungle gym Sajani was climbing on, and when he came… fast… the guys ran even more so. Everyone cheered, and Chickie was the belle of the ball for the rest of the day. None of the other mothers were afraid of him, even those with infants.
“He’s a hero,” Aruna sighed, kissing and hugging the monster dog who had feet as big as a bear’s. I watched the animal that could have eaten her preen under the attention.
The vet thought perhaps he was malamute and mastiff, with maybe some Caucasian Ovcharka thrown in along with some husky, and maybe—he confided in me the last time I was there—even some wolf. But since hybrids were illegal in Chicago and he couldn’t prove it, he was keeping his suspicion on the down low and had not recorded it in any official paperwork.
Whatever Chickie was, he’d been making my two fellow marshals nervous, but once he lay down beside the couch with his head on my lap, making the grunting noises he made when he was happy, even they warmed to him and took turns scratching his ears.
“I guess you never have to worry about burglars,” Kohn offered.
“Yeah, neither do the neighbors on both sides,” I yawned. “That’s one of the reasons this Greystone cost a bit more. We’re in a cluster of four, and all the backyards are gated and butt up against each other.”
“Oh, I thought you had, like, a small park behind you.”
“No, four lots are connected so we can walk from my back door to the neighbor’s and come out one street over.”
“I wondered what made your mortgage payment so high,” Kohn replied.
Kowalski and I both looked at him.
“What? You left your computer screen open last week. I was supposed to not look?”
“Yeah,” Kowalski chided. “You don’t look, ya animal. What the hell? I’ve met your mother; I know you weren’t raised in a barn.”
Kohn made a dismissive noise and tipped his head at Chickie. “So you said the neighbors don’t worry about burglars either?”
“Yeah, no,” I said, snickering. “Some guy came through our neighbors’ backyard across from us, and I hear Mrs. Sasaki yelling at him that ‘that’s not allowed,’ and then out goes Chickie and the guy turned and ran.”
“I’d run too,” Kowalski confessed.
“Yeah, so after the guy gets out the gate, Chickie ran the length of the fence and snarled and barked, and Mrs. Sasaki, who I swear to God has never said two words to me, is smiling and waving before she comes down her back steps and is all over him, telling him what a good boy he is,” I said with an eye roll. “After that, all three neighbors are happy to have Chickie out whenever he wants and they all give him treats when he goes up to their back doors.”
“So he guards the whole place.” Kowalski seemed really interested.
“Yeah, he’s a little too vigilant. That’s why Ian put in the doggie door leading to the backyard, so we don’t have to get up and let him out anymore whenever he hears something weird in the middle of the night.”
“This is still Chicago, though. You’re not worried some guy’ll get in here through the monster dog door?” Kohn sounded concerned.
I arched an eyebrow. “And run the risk of being face-to-face with Chick?”
“No, I mean during the day when he’s not here.”
I snorted. “Ian made the door. When it’s closed, it’s like Fort Knox; no one’s coming in through that.”
“Speaking of, when’s he getting in?” Kowalski chimed in.
“Not until tomorrow around seven.”
“I’ll call the guys, then, we’ll have poker night over here tonight.”
“What? Why?” I just wanted to sleep. Didn’t I look tired?
“Maybe he wants to sleep?” Kohn threw out.
Kowalski scoffed. “Fuck that, he owes us all money from last time.”
I did, it was true.
“Ain’t no rest for the wicked, everybody knows that.”
I flipped him off, and then Kohn as well because he started laughing.
Chapter 4
MY FRIENDS—and I used the word loosely since they had no problem taking my money and not giving me the opportunity to win it back—stayed until the early morning hours. They’d all come, except Sharpe, who had a hot date with an Eastern European ballerina he’d met on a DEA bust. He showed up at nine the following morning, pounding on my front door because I was close to where he was when he woke up and got the hell out of her apartment. Since he’d become single again, the term manwhore could officially be applied.