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“But Rufus,” said Ted, as he awkwardly followed along—Rufus is a very big dog, you see, and in fact it’s safe to say that he’s half sheep, half dog, and probably half mule, too, as he can be quite mulish when he wants to be. And his size now compelled Ted to follow us.

“Look at that,” said Brutus with a grin. “The dog is walking the man for a change.”

And indeed it now looked as if Rufus was in charge, and not Ted. People all along the street stood watching the strange scene of five cats and one very large dog, followed by a flustered-looking Ted.

“Maybe Ted can help us find that girl,” said Harriet. “Humans do have their qualities, you know.”

“Impossible,” I said. “Ted doesn’t understand us, and so we have no way of explaining to him what we’re after.”

“Oh, I can make him understand,” said Rufus, and stopped to bark up at a lamppost.

“Really, Rufus?” said Harriet with an eyeroll. “You have to pee already? Talk about being a walking, talking clich?.”

“No, wait a moment, Harriet,” I said. “Look what’s been plastered to the lamppost.”

We all looked up, and saw that someone had put a Missing Persons flyer on that lamppost. It depicted a freckle-faced blond young woman with pleasant demeanor. Not exactly pretty, but not unpretty either, and above it the words,‘Have you seen Angel Church?’

“Angel Church?” asked Dooley. “Is Angel really called that?”

“She is,” said Shanille. “Very appropriate for a rectory housekeeper’s daughter.”

Ted, whose attention had been attracted by Rufus’s frantic barking, now studied the Missing Persons poster for a moment, then said, “You want to find this girl, buddy?”

Rufus actually barked again at this, and so Ted patted his head affectionately.“All right. If that’s what you want, that’s what we’ll do.”

“Amazing,” said Harriet, and I think she spoke for all of us when she said that.

And so now our small company had been expanded with one human, which was a good thing. Humans always come in handy. And even though Ted is a bookkeeper and not a detective, bookkeepers have an innate sleuthing capacity, as they’re always looking through your accounts trying to find what you did wrong, and to look for those loopholes the taxman hasn’t closed up yet. And we hadn’t even reached the end of the block when Marcie also joined us. She’s Ted’s wife, you see, and I assume when Ted was texting moments before, that he was texting his wife, and telling her what was going on.

“So we’re trying to find a missing girl?” said Marcie, confirming my suspicions. “Rufus will find her for us, won’t you, boy?”

“Yes, Marcie,” said Rufus happily, cocking an eyebrow at Harriet as if saying, ‘See?They believe in me.’

And just when we were about to set out on our adventure, suddenly one more addition appeared on the scene in the form of Fifi.“I escaped, you guys,” she said, panting happily. “But don’t tell Kurt, okay?”

“We won’t,” I assured the tiny doggie.

“So what’s going on?”

“We’re looking for a missing girl,” Rufus said, and gestured once more to that poster on the lamppost. “And we could sure use your help, Fifi.”

“You got it, Chief!” said Fifi. “Let’s go!”

6

“So what do you think, Uncle Alec?” asked Odelia.

“I have absolutely no idea,” her uncle grumbled as he dragged a hand across his scalp.

Abe Cornwall, the county coroner, hadn’t arrived yet—they all hoped he would be able to tell them what was going on, and if a crime had been committed here. “What do you think, Chase?” she asked her husband, who stood inspecting the nearby car wreck.

“I think whoever owns this piece of junk should probably get rid of it,” he grunted.

“I can tell you who owns it, but it won’t do you much good,” said the Chief. “Blake Carrington owns the land, and that wreck used to belong to his son Steven, who wrecked it in a street car race one night about ten years ago.”

Chase quirked an eyebrow.“A street car race?”

Uncle Alec nodded.“You’re probably too young to remember, Odelia, but we had a real problem with kids using the streets of Hampton Cove as the scene for their street races. This went on for a couple of summers, until Steven Carrington crashed his car and died on impact. That pretty much ended that particular pastime. His father never got over the death of his son, and decided to leave the wreck as a shrine to his boy.”

“It happened here?”

“It happened right here.”

Odelia’s and Chase’s eyes now traveled to the bones that were spread out on the ground, then to the rags lying next to them. Chase crouched down and inspected what looked like the remnants of a jersey. “There’s letters here,” he said. “Looks like… an insignia of some kind. I can make out anS, an E…”

“What was the name of Carrington’s son?” asked Odelia.

“Um, Steven,” said Uncle Alec, then his eyes widened slightly. “You don’t think…”

“I think these bones just might belong to Steven Carrington.”

“That’s impossible. I was at Steven’s funeral. He’s buried at St. John’s cemetery.”

“So maybe his father had him reinterred here?” Chase suggested.