hand was a conductor. Who knew?
“Jeremy?” I tried again.
“Apparently, he’s Jeremy.”
I scowled at Billy Gardiner. “Where were you when this was going on?” I flapped my wrist to indicate all parties concerned, then grimaced at the annoying rustle. I wished Deb had used smaller plastic bags.
Billy lifted a roll of yellow crime scene tape. Figured.
“What about you?” I glared at Owen. “You released your dog on Jeremy?”
“He isn’t…” Owen began, then frowned. “He just took off.”
“He do that a lot?”
“Never.”
Reggie continued to glare at Jeremy like he wanted to bite a lot more than his pants.
Owen picked up the dog’s trailing lead. “What got into you?”
Reggie snuffed as if he’d smelled something he didn’t like. The hair on his back was still ruffled.
Splode.
I had no idea what that meant. And I couldn’t exactly ask with all these people around. I’d never had the imaginary thoughts of animals not make sense—probably because they were my thoughts not the animal’s. But, as they said, there was a first time for everything.
Jeremy continued to sit on the ground. That he hadn’t gotten up or spoken was becoming worrisome.
“What’s going on here?” Chief Deb didn’t appear any happier about this situation than I was.
“I planned to ask him the same question,” Owen said.
“Before or after you smacked him into the wall, then tried to strangle him?” I asked.
“If I’d been trying to strangle him, he’d be strangled.”
“It was so cool,” Joaquin said.
Where had he come from?
“Shouldn’t you be in school?”
He shrugged.
I frowned. “Go to school!”
Joaquin walked off mumbling. I heard madre in the middle of a whole lot of español and decided not to try and translate. I probably didn’t want to know.
“Who are you?” Deb asked.
Jeremy tried to talk and started coughing.
“Jesus,” Owen muttered.
“No,” Billy said. “It’s Jer-e-my.”
“Ha.” Owen’s gaze flicked to me. “I barely touched him.”
“Why did you touch him?”
He held up the ski mask again.
“Where did you get that?” Deb demanded.
“It was on the ground next to this guy.”
“Who is this guy?” Deb repeated.
“You wanted a forensic veterinarian.” I swept my hand out like a magician. “You got one. Meet Dr. Jeremy Reitman.”
“Right man,” Billy repeated. “That’s funny.”
“Hysterical.” Owen’s gaze remained on Jeremy.
Jeremy got to his feet, hand extended toward Deb. The sudden movement made Reggie growl, and Jeremy backed up to the wall.
“You’re scared of a dog?” Owen asked. “What kind of a vet are you?”
To be fair, most of Jeremy’s patients were dead, or in very bad shape, and Reggie wasn’t just any dog, he was a weapon.
“He attacked me.”
“And why is that?” Owen asked.
“I don’t know!”
“He doesn’t like masks. I don’t blame him. Anyone in Afghanistan who’s covering their face is up to no good. Or expecting a sandstorm.” Owen lifted his gaze to the clear blue sky. “No sign of one.” His eyes lowered. “What’s your excuse?”
“I wasn’t wearing that mask. I didn’t even see it until you picked it up.”
“I didn’t see it there either,” Deb said.
Neither had I, but I hadn’t been looking.
My dad poked his head out the back door. I was surprised it had taken him this long. “What’s going on down here?” His gaze lit on Jeremy and he smiled, stepping outside. “Doctor! Hey! Great to see you.”
“Jesus,” Owen muttered again.
Billy cast him a wry glance and returned to crowd control.
“Dale!” Jeremy and my dad clasped hands and chest-bumped like old pals.
They’d met once when my father had stopped in Madison on the way to Milwaukee with my brothers’ entries for the Wisconsin State Fair holstein competition in a trailer. He hadn’t been able to stay long—cows in a trailer in August—but Jeremy had come by to loan me a textbook, and I’d introduced them. From the way they were behaving, they’d bonded like long-lost relatives.
I’d taken a single class from Jeremy in my first year of veterinary school. He was well read, interesting, a good teacher. We’d stayed in touch. I didn’t have many friends, and I wasn’t certain I’d even consider Jeremy one of them—more a colleague—but he’d been helpful in the past, and he had rushed over personally just on the basis of my call.
My father caught sight of Owen, and his smile faded. “What are you doing here?”
“I told you Owen was in town, Dad.”
“In town is one thing, here is another.”
“It isn’t that big of a town.”
“Don’t be a smartass,” he said, but he was staring at Owen.
There was something going on I didn’t understand. My dad and Owen had always gotten along fine. Even that last