Don't Sweat the Small Stuff by Don Bruns

Author:Don Bruns
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi, pdf
Publisher: Midpoint Trade Books
Published: 2011-04-23T04:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

We watched her brisk walk as she headed toward the zoo, computer tucked under her arm. She didn’t even wait for me to grab the case. Puffs of dust exploded from her heels as she walked. Turning her head and shouting over her shoulder she yelled, “Skip, get your ass in gear.”

I jogged to catch her while James stood in front of our silver trailer, shaking his head. Emily was going to show him how to run his P.I. firm.

“What are we going to do? It’s still daylight. I mean—” I was gasping. Lack of exercise and too much beer will do that to you.

“You’ve got a very limited timetable to figure this thing out. If we work on James-time this will never get solved.”

I didn’t give it any hope to be solved no matter whose time we worked on. James-time or anyone else’s time.

Em handed me the computer, put one foot on the zoo fence, and with little effort lifted herself over.

“Well, come on.”

I handed her the computer and made the same maneuver. My foot caught in the rung and as I struggled to free it, I almost fell into the ring. Finally, wriggling it free, I stumbled into the animals’ domain.

They were lined up on the far side of the fence, dipping their heads into a long trough. I never would have climbed the fence if Garcia had been watching his flock. But Garcia had broken the law and was on the run, criminal that he was. Thank God.

“Linda. Winston.” Em was shouting as she walked to the trailer.

Winston stuck his head out of the door. “We haven’t seen hide nor hair of Garcia, young lady. I would have called you in a heartbeat.” He ran his hand through the sparse hair that sprouted from his head. “You don’t have to keep pestering me. If I see him, you’ll hear from me.”

“That’s not why we’re here.”

“Oh?”

“No, it’s something else right now.”

He looked relieved. “Ah, got a question for you, missy. I’ve been wondering. What the heck is so important with that pen?”

“First of all,” Em strode up to the little porch as Pugh stepped out, “that pen belonged to my father. It’s very expensive and I know he wants it back.”

“Uh-huh. Looked to me like it was expensive. Very fancy lookin’.”

“It means a lot to him. I really hope we can get it back.”

“Okay. We’re trying.”

Em touched his arm with her free hand. “It’s very important, Winston. I can’t begin to tell you.”

“There something else you wanted?” The short, stout zookeeper scratched his left armpit, glad to change the subject. Tugging on his overalls, he shifted his shoulders, maybe getting ready to square off with me and Em.

“Yes there is.”

“You and the boy there?”

Em held out the computer. “You, Mr. Pugh, seem to be a guy who knows how to run a tight business. Therefore I’m guessing you have a computer that keeps your organization on track.”

The little guy ducked his head. “Well, I do have one but I don’t, you know, it’s not so much—” as if he didn’t want to discuss it.

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