I carried Emmett in his kennel upstairs to my parents' house and left him in the utility room. Though I intended to be back before anyone found him, I left a note on the kennel explaining I'd killed a spider in my kitchen and had set off a bug bomb in case it had any little friends. I was spending the night with a friend and couldn't take Emmett along.
It was a brilliant lie. One of my best.
I arrived at Below the Belt when I said I would and sat in the parking lot watching for Pace and the little Scotsman.
They arrived one at a time, entering the establishment and disappearing into the depths of the eatery.
I followed a moment later, my phone in my pocket, set to record, the audio file being sent to the cloud as it "listened." Maybe if my career as a reporter doesn't work out, I could
