I was busy thinking about six other things, breathing through my mouth in hopes I could keep my shit together. Meanwhile, Woofer, the yellow mongrel, had roused himself and crossed to Flannagan’s side. He stood there with his chin on Flannagan’s thigh, looking up at him through the mop of hair that hung over his eyes. Flannagan smiled and rubbed behind his ears.

I cleared my throat. “I’ve never owned a dog.”

“Yeah, well, I swore I’d never own another one and here I am. This fellow’s fifteen years old and so far, so good. Maybe I’ll get lucky and go before he does. At any rate, that’s the story of Ulf. You caught me off guard. I never thought I’d hear another word about the dog.”

“I appreciate the information.”

“What about you? You haven’t explained how you ended up with his tag.”

I gave him an abbreviated version of my meeting with Michael Sutton, his encounter with the two guys digging the hole, and his suspicions about Mary Claire Fitzhugh. Flannagan remembered the child’s disappearance. None of the other names I mentioned meant anything to him. He hadn’t known the Kirkendalls, the Suttons, or anyone on Alita Lane.

With a shrug I said, “Maybe there’s no connection. Maybe Ulf being buried there was pure coincidence. It just seems odd. I don’t know anything about the protocol when a dog is put down. The vet might have buried him.”

“I don’t know why he would. He only saw the dog once so it’s not like there was an emotional connection between the two. I know I didn’t bury him so how he ended up in Horton Ravine is anybody’s guess. What else do you want to know?”

“I guess that’s about it. Do you remember the vet’s name?”

“Not offhand. I can sort through my canceled checks. It might take me a while, but I’ll be happy to try.”

“That was a long time ago. I can’t believe you’d have records going back that far.”

“Give me a number where I can reach you and I’ll see what I can find.”

“I’d appreciate it.”

He watched while I jotted down my home number on the back of a business card and when I handed it to him, he said, “You might want to be careful referring to this town as Peephole. People around here can be stiff-necked. We call it Puerto.”

“Thanks for the warning. I’ll watch myself.”