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They passed out copies of her sketch, but nobody seemed to recognize anything about the man in it.
On a whim, Meadow stopped by the Yesterday Place on her way home to give Mike Markson a copy to display.
He stared at the sketch, frowning. “Who do you think this is, again?” he asked.
“The man who stole an antique writing desk from Dal Blake,” she explained. “And took a log to my dog. She’s at the vet’s with a head injury,” she added coldly. “I really want this guy. I want him badly. A man who’ll brutalize an animal will do the same thing to a person.”
Mike seemed to go pale as he studied the sketch. “Well, yes, men . . . men like that would probably hit people, indeed.” He lifted his eyes to hers. “Your dog, will it be all right?”
“No thanks to the thief,” she replied. “Snow was unconscious when I found her. It was a very long night until she came out of it. We weren’t sure that she would.”
“Poor animal. I used to have a dog,” he said sadly. “A female Lab. I . . . lost her two years ago,” he added reluctantly.
“I’m sorry. I love animals.”
“So do I,” he replied. “It was such a shock. She’d been running around, laughing, the way they do, you know, always happy. I came home and Gary said she’d run into the road, right into a car. She died instantly. It was a head injury . . .”
“I guess I really got lucky with Snow,” she said. “But I’m sorry for your loss. They’re like people to us.”
“They truly are.” He stared again at the handout. “I’ll post it and see if anyone recognizes who the person is,” he told her. “If so, I’ll call you.”
“Thanks,” she said, and smiled at him.
“Any luck on the organ and the lamp?”
She shook her head. “More dead ends, I’m afraid. Nothing new. But we’re stubborn and persistent. One day, we’ll track them down.”
“I do hope so,” he said.
“Thanks for your help.”
“Any time.”
She started out the door and almost collided with a tall, thin man with unruly hair. It was Gary, Mike’s son. He had a cut on his cheek. She wondered idly if he’d done that shaving. Men were careless with the razor sometimes. Her father had been.
He looked at her uneasily. “Deputy,” he said, with a nod.
“Mr. Markson.” She nodded back. She thought he looked strange, but she didn’t dwell on it. She was eager to get home and see Snow. Dal was going with her. She smiled to herself as she started up her SUV and drove away. So many changes in her life. She couldn’t remember a time when she’d felt happier.
* * *
“Jeff confessed about the pizza,” she told Dal when they were on the way to see Snow. “He said he was sorry.”
He chuckled. “He’s a good guy,” he replied.
“So are you. It was a lovely pizza.” She glanced at him. “How did you know I liked mushrooms and cheese?”
“You’ve forgotten, haven’t you?” he teased. “I had supper with you and your father year before last. You ordered two pizzas. Yours only had mushroom and cheese, and your father said it was because you weren’t carnivorous like he and I were.”
The memory came back. Dal had been sarcastic about her disdain for sausage. He’d been that way about a lot of things she liked.
“I was a fourteen-karat heel, wasn’t I, honey?” he asked softly, glancing her way. “It took me years to understand why I was so rough on you.”
“Why were you?” she asked.
“Oh, that’s not a question you should ask when I’m driving.”
Her eyebrows arched.
