Hounded

Good morning, gentlemen, « I said. » How may I help you? « I kept my hands in plain sight at my sides, doing my best to appear friendly and harmless. I also stepped a bit to the left, so that they would be facing away from the pink grass.
    The cop to my right wore a blue shirt with a striped tie in navy and white. He wore a jacket to conceal his firearm, certainly not to keep warm, and I got the feeling he would rather walk around with his gun in plain view. He was Latino, looked to be in his mid-thirties, and carried a bit of extra gravity in his jowls.
    On the left was the lad assigned to look dumber and meaner. He was going for a Michael Madsen attitude, wearing polarized sunglasses and leaning against my porch railing with his arms crossed. I guessed he wouldn’t be talking much. He was even younger than the other guy and wore a white shirt and skinny black tie, no jacket, like a refugee from a Tarantino film. He was scowling at me because I had stepped out onto the porch before they could ask to come in, which took away one of their primary methods for putting me on the defensive. If they can force you to run around playing the host, then they get a chance to snoop while you serve them.
    The Latino guy answered me, as expected. » Mr. Atticus O’Sullivan? «
    » The same. «
    » I’m Detective Carlos Jimenez from the Phoenix police, and this is Detective Darren Fagles from the Tempe police. May we speak to you inside? «
    Ha! He asked to come inside anyway. Not gonna happen, buddy. » Oh, it’s such a nice morning, let’s just talk out here, « I said. » What brings you to my door today? «
    Jimenez frowned. » Mr. O’Sullivan, this is really best discussed in private. «
    » We’re plenty private right here. « I grinned at him. » Unless you’re planning to shout. You aren’t going to shout at me, are you? «
    » Well, no, « the detective admitted.
    » Great! So why are you here? «
    Resigned, Detective Jimenez finally got to the point. » Do you own an Irish wolfhound, Mr. O’Sullivan? «
    » Nope. «
    » Animal Control says you have one licensed under the name of Oberon. «
    » That’s true, I do; well done, sir. «
    » So then you do own one. «
    » Nope. He ran away last week. I have no idea where he is. «
    » So where is he? «
    » Didn’t I just say I have no idea? «
    Detective Jimenez sighed and pulled out a notebook and a ballpoint pen. » When, precisely, did he run away? «
    » Last Sunday. That would be a week ago, as I said. I came home from work and he was gone. «
    » What time was that? «
    » Five-fifteen p.m. « Time to play the bewildered citizen. » Why are you asking about my dog? «
    Jimenez ignored my question and asked me another one. » When did you leave for work that day? «
    » At half past nine. «
    » And where do you work? «
    » At Third Eye Books on Ash Avenue, just south of University. «
    » Where were you on Friday night? «
    » I was here at home. «
    » Was anyone with you? «
    » Well, that can hardly be any of your business. «
    » It’s precisely my business, Mr. O’Sullivan. «
    » Oh. Are you going to tell me what this is about now? «
    » We are investigating a murder committed Friday night in Papago Park. «
    I frowned and squinted at him. » Am I a suspect? I didn’t do it. «
    » Do you have an alibi? «
    » I wasn’t in Papago Park Friday night. Isn’t it supposed to be closed at night? «
    » Who saw you Friday night? «
    » No one. I was home alone, reading. «
    » With your dog? «
    » No, not with my dog. He ran away last Sunday, remember? You wrote it down in your little book. «
    » Would you mind if we verify that your dog is not at home? «
    » How do you mean? «
    » We’d like to take a look in your backyard and your house to make sure he’s not at home. «
    » Sorry, I’m not entertaining houseguests today. Especially ones who assume I’m lying. «
    » We can come back with a warrant, Mr. O’Sullivan, « Detective Fagles said, speaking up for the first time. I turned my head to glare at him.
    » I’m well aware, Detective. If you’d like to waste your time, go right ahead. My dog is not here, nor will he be here if you come back. Why are you looking for my dog, anyway? What led you to my door? «
    » We’re not at liberty to discuss details of the investigation, « Jimenez said.
    » It sounds like a pretty good one. Colonel Mustard did it in the park with the wolfhound, eh? I can hardly believe you’d be checking every