Page 35 of Don't Cross Mo Ellery

Okay, he’s working the enemies angle pretty hard.

Claudia puts a hand on his shoulder. “Easy there, Benny, I made her take the dogs, remember?”

“Right. About that,” I say. “I would like to return them.”

“Oh, that’s not an option,” Claudia says.

“Maybe it should be,” Benny says, stepping up to me.

“Yeah,” I say, giving it right back.

“Okay, kids,” Claudia says with a sigh. “Let’s walk.”

So Claudia, who previously wouldn’t let me or my stop sign anywhere near her—who would in facthide behind a treeto evade me—makes me walk out into the street and pretend to cross her and Benny, who takes the leashes for the dogs. She tells us we’re going to go all the way around the intersection, until we’ve walked in a full circle.

“Just to be clear, I’m not a crossing guard at the moment. I don’t have my vest or my stop sign,” I say. “And school isn’t in session.”

“Well,” she says, “you wouldn’t come to my house, so here I am, doing this on your turf. If you have complaints, then next time, make different choices.”

I sigh as I step into the intersection. Next to me, she makes Benny hold her arm while she fake-hobbles at an unbearably slow pace, and next to him, the dogs form a unified front.

After a few steps in silence, Claudia whispers, “Benny, this is Mo,” and—wait. How does she know my name? I don’t remember telling her my name.

Benny, she says, continuing with the introductions, is Buffalo Park’s most sought-after dog trainer. “Tons of experience,” the old woman adds. “Used to work for Cran, as a matter of fact. The poodles love Benny.”

Unlike you, Pepperoni Pockets.It’s like she’s rubbing it in my face.You’ll only ever be able to bribe someone to love you.

“Great,” I say to Benny. “Then you take the dogs.”

“No can do,” Benny says.

“Maybe Mo would feel closer to them if you told her their names,” Claudia prompts.

Benny points at the pepperoni lover. “That’s GCH CH Bellevie Qu’ils Mangent de la Brioche CGC.”

I blink. “That’s a name?”

“He goes by Jean Valjean for short.”

“Oh, does he?”

Finally, Benny looks chagrined. “Well, Jean for short.”

“Right.”

Next, he points at the sneezer. “GCH CH Bellevie Liberté Égalité Fraternité CGC.” He pauses. “AKA, Louis XIV.”

As if on cue, Louis sneezes.

“Sure, why not,” I say.

“And finally,” Benny continues, “GCH CH Bellevie Après Moi Le Deluge CGC. But you can call him Jacques Cousteau.”

“Wow, enchanté, obviously,” I say. “And why, again, doIhave to keep them? Why aren’t we giving them back to someone,anyone else?”

“If Cran was murdered, the dogs will know who did it,” Benny says, looking around cautiously, like someone might be listening to us. Out here. In the middle of the wide-open street. “They were always with him, they would have sensed something dangerous.”

“You just said ‘if’ he was murdered,” I point out.