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“Cassidy Werner,” she said, not bothering to stick her hand out.
Well, apparentl
y she'd heard him. He'd need to apologize, if the look on her face was any indication. He dropped his hand and said, “My office is this way.”
She gave him a look that screamed 'You're on thin ice, buddy' but moved toward the open office door that Mike had gestured to. He followed her, once again appreciating the hourglass waist and full hips. Damn.
He moved behind his desk and gestured to one of the worn chairs. When she had settled in, he asked, “So I understand your dog has been kidnapped?”
He tried desperately to keep his tone neutral, but he clearly failed because she said, “Well, come on. Let's get this out of the way now. I've had this conversation with every member of law enforcement I've encountered thus far.”
Mike wouldn't touch that topic with a ten foot pole. “Not sure what you mean.” He lied smoothly.
“I heard you when I was in the bathroom, you jerk. You think I'm a wacko just like the cops did. Some crazy dog person freaked out when her dog ran away.”
“Crazy dog lady,” he clarified, impressed she was willing to call him out on it. “In my mind you were a crazy dog lady. I had a rough night last night. Not enough sleep. I'm sorry.”
“Boozing until all hours. Womanizing, Mr. Diamond,” she asked smugly.
“It's Mike, and no.” He automatically fired back. “Driving a runaway teen back to her family in Bracebridge.”
“Gee. If only I'd asked instead of assuming,” she said sarcastically.
She had him there. He'd certainly made some assumptions. This time, with more sincerity in his voice, he said, “I'm sorry. You're absolutely right. I'm going to blame my shitty behavior on my lack of sleep. In any case, Ms. Werner, I'd be interested in hearing about your case if you'd like to tell me.”
“Cassidy,” she said, correcting him. “No one gets it. You're just the unlucky one that got to hear me spout off about it.” A moment later she confided, “Those of us that can't have children sometimes get pets instead. He's like my furry little son.”
“I'm sorry,” he said when he saw the lost look on her face. He frowned at the small twinge he felt in his chest, and added, “Let's see what we can do to get him back. Okay?”
Chapter Two
After she had delivered that little bombshell, Cassidy dug into her bag. Pulling out a photo, she handed it to Mike and said, “This is Sir Roderick Von Liechtenstein.”
“Pardon,” Mike asked her after he took the picture. Then his eyes wide, he said, “Holy shit. That's not a dog. That looks like a lion!”
Cassidy laughed and corrected him. “Tibetan Mastiff.”
“And the name,” he asked.
“When you show a dog, they have to have a completely unique name registered. We bought him from a special breeder in Liechtenstein. She had already named him Roddy and he wouldn't answer to anything else.”
“He's a cute little guy,” Mike admitted. “So he's been stolen?”
“My ex and I split recently. According to the divorce settlement, Roddy is mine. I think he may have taken him in retribution.”
“Why?”
“Roddy is a purebred Tibetan Mastiff. He's one of the best examples of his breed in the world. Last year he made over a hundred thousand in prize money.”
“Whoa,” Mike said, obviously shocked. Most people were, though.
“We donated most of it. Or, I thought we had. That was part of what caused the whole divorce in the first place. I caught him funneling Roddy's winnings into a personal account. From there, things got really nasty. Restraining order nasty.”
“It's possible, then. He obviously has a motive to steal the dog. Several, actually.” After a quick pause and some scribbling on the notepad in front of him, Mike asked, “What did the cops say about that?”
She frowned and said, “I reported it. They sent someone over to do a cursory check, but found he'd left the place where he lived. Obviously, there was no dog on the premises. I don't know where the bastard is keeping him, but he's the only one that had access to him besides his handler, Marla.”
“When did he go missing?”
