Rachel Alexander 05 - The Wrong Dog

come into the school. People call to speak with people they know, whether it’s business or personal. Or they call because they have a deaf kid and they want information about the school to help them decide if it’s the right place for them. Or they call to sell us stuff, anything from new phone systems to new devices for the kids, ‘hearing gizmos’ Sophie used to call them. No one calls about dogs, period. Only two of the kids use hearing dogs, and neither of them brings the dog to school. They don’t need them there. They need them everywhere but there. And since they come and go by special bus, the dogs aren’t needed for the trip. They can stay home. We signal with lights here. You don’t need a dog to alert you that the bell is ringing. So how could I miss a call like that? Besides, the way Loma told it, it involved my best friend. How would I forget something like that, or forget to tell Sophie about it if the call had come in?”
    “I guess you wouldn’t.”
    She took one last bite of her sandwich and wiped her lips while she was still chewing. I saw her look over at the clock behind the counter.
    “Time to get back?” I asked.
    “I still have five minutes.”
    “I only have one more question I can think of now. Do you think it would be possible for me to talk to the kids in Sophie’s class? She may have told them things about herself, something that might help me locate family. Teachers do that, sometimes to get the kids to open up and talk.“
    “Oh, I doubt it. The school’s very protective of the students. Especially now. Those poor things. They have a counselor talking to them. They’re very upset to have lost their teacher.”
    “I understand.”
    “But, of course, if you were around after school, at three o’clock, let’s say, no one would say anything if one or two of the children approached you, to pet your dog. I could meet you out front one day, to make sure you know which kids were hers.”
    “Thanks, Ruth. I’ll give them another day or two and then try it. What age are her kids?”
    “Third grade. Eight.”
    “And they all lip-read?”
    “They do. You won’t have any trouble talking to them.” I thanked her and paid for lunch. Then Dashiell and I walked home to wait for a message telling me that I could use the keys Mel had given me and move into Sophie’s apartment for a day or two to see what I could learn.

Chapter 10
    Find It, I Told Him

    There were five messages waiting for me at home. The first was from Chip saying he’d be home around nine and would try to reach me then. He said to call his cell phone if I needed him. He left the number, as if I might have forgotten it. The third message was from Mel saying the police had released the apartment and told him he could take the animals back home. He said he and Bianca would be there about four-thirty, after his last walk. He left his cell phone number for me, too, just in case I needed to reach him before he got to Sophie’s.
    The other three messages were markedly less friendly. They were all from Sophie’s number. They were all hangups. Except the last one. On that call, the machine had recorded someone breathing before the call had been disconnected.
    I threw some clothes and my toothbrush into my backpack, put the dogs’ food into shopping bags, picked up the leashes, and headed for West Third Street, hoping I’d get the chance to surprise whoever it was who was leaving me those non-messages. That in itself made me walk as fast as Blanche would let me. But two blocks later, I discovered that the simple task of getting from one place to another by foot with a bull terrier was not as easy as it would have been with, say, a golden retriever. Whenever we passed a low wall, a bench, a compact grouping of trash bags, Blanche would choose the high road, climbing on top of things as if she were a mountain goat, Dashiell, a monkey-see, monkey-do kind of guy, following along behind her. I’d been a dog trainer. I could have asked them both to heel. But I didn’t. I knew that it was a good thing that Blanche, at least for the moment, was acting like herself.
    Even with the delays, we got to Sophie’s in fifteen minutes. I unlocked the door and called out into the apartment.
    “Is anyone here?”
    I was answered only by silence. Whoever had been here was gone. Or they weren’t speaking up.
    I tried again.
    “Is anyone home?”
    I unleashed the dogs. If there was someone waiting inside, Dashiell and Blanche