Page 3 of Pied Sniper

“You can grow a beard if you like,” I said, stroking his jaw. He had a fine layer of stubble, which was unlike him. Usually, he kept his hair very short and his face clean- shaven.

Solomon stopped chewing. “Would you like that?”

“I like this stubble. It’s very appealing. Also you smell very sexy today.” I leaned in to smoosh my nose against his neck. “You smell like mint and something earthy.”

“I’m not having sex with you in the car.”

I pulled back. “Jeez, John! I was only complimenting your choice of shower gel!”

He gave me a suspicious look. “Really? Why are you doing that pouty thing and fluttering your eyelashes?”

“Absolutely no reason.” I batted my eyelashes again and licked my lips. Sometimes Solomon reminded me of a chocolate bar: thoroughly edible, and undeniably delicious, but having more than one would probably knock me out from pleasure overload. No, scrap that. Icaneat a lot of chocolate. More than one Solomon however? I would definitely faint after that scenario.

“Stop it. It’s four PM.”

“I can read a clock.”

“We’re on a public street.”

“I’m not sure where you’re going with this. Are you announcing your case notes aloud? Should I write any of this down?” I teased.

Solomon fixed me with a smoldering look that usually resulted in my eager consent to anything he asked. “I’ll take you to bed later. Or maybe to the stairs if we don’t make it that far,” he said.

I sucked in a breath as all the oxygen seemed to rush out of the car. My heart pounded and my palms got clammy. Then I uttered the words no husband wants to hear in response to his sexy suggestion. “I’m hanging out with Lily later. We’re watching an eminent lifestyle vlogger do a livestream video,” I said.

“I have no idea what any of that means.”

“Well, Lily is my best friend and also my sister-in-law,” I started.

“I know that bit.”

I pulled in a deep breath and prepared myself. “It means, I’m not available for you to put the moves on me.” I clasped my palm to my mouth, immediately regretting my words.

“I’ll save my moves for later. Heads up. Movement.” Solomon grabbed his camera, his face turning serious as the door to the pet salon opened and a woman strolled out with a dog so enormous and furry, it might have been a bear. The two dogs I could see through the plate glass windows looked like hamsters in comparison.

“What is that?” I asked. “It’s a bear, isn’t it? She only thinks it’s a dog.”

“A St. Bernard,” said Solomon. “Not the one I’m looking for. The markings are wrong.”

“Tell me again what we’re doing here.”

“I’ve been tracking the movements of several pedigree dogs that were reported missing and the one commonality they share is all of them are clients of the Pampered Pooch Parlor. Either the parlor is behind the dog thefts, or they’re passing on information, perhaps unwittingly, to the responsible party,” he explained. “I’m staking them out for a few days so I can decide which of the employees could be in on it, or any tradespeople doing business with the parlor who might be linked to the thefts.”

“That’s an awful lot of work to steal dogs. Why not just grab them from their yards?”

“That would require knowing where their yards were. Most people don’t let their prize dogs roam their front yards. Someone must know which homes to target. Designer puppies sell for thousands of dollars. Tens of thousands for the offspring of champions. It’s a relatively new crime that is fast rivaling drugs in some countries, with less severe penalties.”

“Wow.”

“So far we have five missing pooches. Three bitches and two dogs. They’re all young and none of them were neutered so they’ve probably been stolen for breeding purposes. The thieves can’t show them, but they stand to make a lot of money off their litters on the semi-black market. Someone must be aware of that information. You can’t just flip the animal over and check.”

“Why don’t they just ransom them?” I wondered. “Surely, the owners are prepared to pay.”

“I wondered about that too,” said Solomon as he lifted his camera and fired off a round of snaps when a young man in a blue PPP polo shirt with a little paw logo left the building and headed down the street. “Sure, there’s money in the ransom but if the bitches have several litters, each consisting of several puppies, and the dogs sire who knows how many puppies… That’s a goldmine! They can breed the animals until the dogs can’t sustain it anymore before they discard them for new ones.”

“Those poor animals!”

“The owners are desperate to get them all home and safe so they collaborated and hired us. They said they would pay any ransom., but paying the dognappers means all pedigreed dogs will continue to be at threat. It’s a smart move.”

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