He smiled and shook his head. “That’s how you know you’re getting old—when you start looking back with kindness on things you knew for sure were ridiculous at the time.”

“At least they believed in something. Kids I see these days don’t seem to have passions of any kind.”

“That’s the other way you know you’re getting old. When you say crap like that,” he said with a laugh. “Anyway, I didn’t mean to get sidetracked. Do you think the dog’s burial is significant?”

“I don’t know, but I’ll tell you what’s bugging me. That dog’s body was stolen from the veterinarian who put him to sleep. Does that make sense to you?”

“Not much.” He nodded at the house next door. “Before you give up, you might want to talk to Avis.”

“I didn’t say I was giving up. I think the pieces are there. I just don’t understand how they fit.”

I left his house, walking past my car on my way to her place next door. In truth, I was talked out for the day and I would have preferred to head home. I had a lot to absorb and I wanted to make notes while the information was fresh. At the same time, the woman lived no more than fifty yards away and I figured I might as well make contact while I was close. I hadn’t known her name before Felix mentioned it, but I’d put her on my mental list, along with the neighbors in the houses across the street. It had been a while since I’d done an old-fashioned canvass, trotting from door to door, introducing myself. As a PI apprentice, under the tutelage of Ben Byrd and Morley Shine, this was how it was done. You followed a trail of crumbs through the forest and pecked them up one by one. Thus far, I was still lost, but my appetite hadn’t been satisfied so on I went.

Mrs. Jent’s one-story house was plain, a typical 1950s construction that would probably hop off its foundation at the next big earthquake. I hoped her insurance premiums were up to date. While the neighborhood was affluent, there was the occasional house like hers tucked among the more prestigious properties. Once disaster struck, someone would come along and offer her top dollar just to get their hands on the lot.

In the meantime, there wasn’t much to be said for the exterior: rough stucco painted a melon color with a low-pitched roof covered with rocks the size of popcorn embedded in tar. By way of contrast, the lawn was a lush green and the landscaping was well designed, which lent the house more grace than would otherwise have been in evidence.