softly, but very quietly, as though she sensed the older man’s distress.
“How are you, Mr. Schroder?” Jane asked gently while nodding to the redhead she now saw was Mr. Schroder’s age.
The old man shook his head. “You heard?”
“Yes. I’m so very sorry.”
“Astrid is beside herself.”
“That’s understandable,” Jane murmured sympathetically. “Is there anything I can do?”
Mr. Schroder looked to his companion, a question in his cataract-clouded eyes.
“Why don’t you go check on, Astrid?” the woman suggested.
“Yes, yes. Of course.” He shuffled back toward the house.
“We haven’t been introduced.” The woman extended her hand. “I’m Ruby, an old friend of Astrid’s… emphasis on old,” she joked with a twinkle in her eyes.
“Jane. Neighborhood pet sitter.” She was surprised by the strength of the woman’s handshake.
“Oh I know who you are. People speak very highly of you.”
Jane blinked, surprised. “They do?”
“You are the Jane who called 9-1-1 and stayed with Paula Simmons when she took that nasty fall a couple of weeks ago, aren’t you?”
Jane nodded.
Ruby beamed. “Paula said you were so kind.”
“I just did what anyone else would do.”
“And who might you be?” Ruby peered around Jane at the dog hiding behind her.
“This is Calamity. She’s shy.”
Ruby smiled and bent down, holding out her hand for the dog to sniff, wisely making no move to pet her.
The dog didn’t move, but she didn’t growl either, which Jane considered to be progress.
Thankfully, Ruby didn’t force the introduction. She straightened and said, “Walk with me, Jane.”
She marched off at a quick pace. Jane had to hurry to keep up with her.
“Sitting around that house acting like someone’s died instead of some trinkets gone missing is grating on my old nerves.”
“To lose something you love is a terrible thing,” Jane countered. She liked the Schroders and wasn’t about to let this old friend badmouth their loss.
Ruby glanced at her sharply and then threw back her head and laughed. “You’re quite right. I deserved that.” She continued a few more paces before saying, “Milton wants to get Astrid another dog. He thinks having one in the house will help her to feel safe, but what I think is that catching this thief is what will help everyone. What do you think?”
“Both might be helpful. I take it that’s what you want my help with?”
Ruby nodded.
“Do you know what kind of dog they’re looking for? Size? Breed? Sex?”
The older woman clucked her tongue disapprovingly. “I don’t want you to find a dog for them.”
“But… I thought you just said…” Jane trailed off, confused.
“I want you to help catch the thief. Who spends more of their time walking around the neighborhood than you?”
“I’ve already told the police I haven’t seen anything suspicious.”
“What about the private investigator?”
“What private investigator?” Jane asked cluelessly.
Ruby slid her a sly, sideways look. “You haven’t met him yet?”
Jane shook her head.
“Huh.” Reaching a corner, Ruby stopped as if deciding which way to turn. “Do people really shop for dogs like that? With such a rigid set of criteria?”
“Some do.”
Ruby shuddered. “It sounds like one of those awful dating site questionnaires. They make it seem like you’re ordering off a deli menu. Hold this. Extra that. And some of this on the side.”
“But some people,” Jane rushed to assure the other woman, “come into the shelter and sees who grabs their heart.”
“And which are you, Jane? Did you choose Calamity? Was it through some complicated algorithm or did you go with your gut?”
“She’s not mine. I’m just her foster mom. I take the dogs who are hard to place in a home and try to make them more adoptable.”
“Ah, I see. You go for the hard-luck cases, healing broken hearts.” Ruby turned around and headed back in the direction we’d come
Rebecca Hamilton, Conner Kressley