Play Dead

Richard is going to be free, and Richard is going to be rich.

Karen prints out the agreement, and I sign it. She offers to hand-deliver it to Massengale’s office so I can focus on the mechanics of getting Richard out of jail.

I place a call to Hawpe’s office and am pleased to learn that the process has already begun. Massengale had assumed I would find the terms acceptable, since they were my terms, and had taken the initial necessary steps.

Once I’ve done all I can over the phone, I head down to the prison. It is my opinion, based on very substantial feedback over the years, that I can be even more obnoxious and annoying in person than on the phone.

Even under my relentless prodding, there is a limit to how fast the bureaucracy will move, and it’s not until three o’clock that I get to enjoy the sight of Richard Evans walking through the prison doors to freedom.

He sees me immediately and comes over. We just stare at each other for a few moments.

“It took you long enough,” I say.

He smiles. “Sorry-I was tied up.”

With that we hug. I’m not a big fan of hugs, and man hugs are my least favorite, but this one is okay.

“Come on,” I say. “There’s somebody at my house who wants to see you.”

When we pull up to my house, Karen, Reggie, and Tara are on the porch waiting for us. Richard has the door open even before I bring the car to a full stop, and he heads for the porch. He doesn’t quite get there, because Reggie comes bounding down the steps and leaps on him.

Within moments Richard and Reggie are on the ground, with Richard on his knees, hugging and petting him. Reggie’s tail is wagging a mile a minute, and he seems to be doing his best to lick the skin off Richard’s face.

“You saved me, buddy. You saved me.” Richard says it over and over, punctuated by laughs. Reggie doesn’t comment, so I assume he agrees and is being modest. And Reggie did save Richard’s life, as certainly as Lassie ever saved anyone.

“Is this great, or what?” says Karen, constantly dabbing at her eyes. She comes over to hug Richard, but Reggie doesn’t seem to be in the mood to share.

Yes, it’s definitely great.

Tara stands off to the side, watching the scene, clearly bewildered that she is not receiving any of this affection. She comes over to me, and I pick up the slack and pet her, but she knows she’s getting the short end of the stick.

We go into the house, and I fill Richard in on what I have learned from Pete or figured out on my own.

“Do you have any idea where Reggie was all these years?” he asks.

I nod. “With Stacy. She drugged you on the boat, and when you were unconscious, she left on another boat with one of her partners. She took Reggie with her.”

“Why?”

I shrug. “I think she genuinely loved him. It’s why she had him taken from my house.”

“So how did he get away from her?”

“There was a storm last March, and a tree fell and badly damaged the house she was living in. My guess is that Reggie was home alone and that he took off when that happened.”

“Where did he go?” Richard asks.

“Looking for you. The guy who found him, Warren Shaheen, lived only about six blocks from your old house.”

This causes Richard to hug Reggie once again and call him an “amazing dog.” He’s got that right.

“So Stacy was with me because of my job? So they could work their customs scam?”

“I can’t say that for sure, Richard.” My statement is true; I can’t say it for sure, but I believe he is right. And I believe she found a more willing conspirator in Franklin, which set this whole thing in motion.

“What are you going to do now?” I ask.

“Well, I have to find a place to live, I have to earn a living, and I have to pay your fee. Because if anyone has earned his money, it’s you.”

I look over at Karen and smile. “You didn’t tell him?” she asks.

I have not told Richard about the monetary settlement. “No, I thought I’d leave that pleasure to you.”

“What are you two talking about?” Richard asks.

“Let’s put it this way,” says Karen as she points to Reggie and Tara. “These guys are going to be sleeping in Gucci dog beds.”

About the Author

DAVID ROSENFELT was the marketing president for Tri-Star Pictures before becoming a writer of novels and screenplays. His debut novel, Open and Shut, won Edgar^® and Shamus award nominations. First Degree, his second novel, was a Publishers Weekly selection for one of the top mysteries of the year, and Bury the Lead was chosen as a Today Show Book Club pick. He and his wife established the Tara Foundation, which has rescued over four thousand dogs, mostly golden retrievers. For more information about the author, you can visit his Web site at www.davidrosenfelt.com.

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“ANDY CARPENTER, LAWYER to the Dogs.”