From the way she was carrying on I was expecting this to be about her son. Her husband seemed oddly unaffected though. As she continued discussing his habits, I slowly pieced it together. Morning walk, careful hair brushing, just the right food, not too wet, not too dry... I had to interrupt her.

"You're talking about your dog? I don't do dogs." I said.

At this point, the husband slid an envelope across the desk filled with cash. It was at least twice my daily rate.

"Look," he said, "I need this done, and I need it done discreetly. Find the dog, or bring me its collar." The woman began to object, but a glare from her husband stopped her.

This was more than a missing dog case. It had to be, no one put up that much, in cash, up front just for a dog. You put up posters in the neighborhood, you don't hire a PI. Alarm bells were ringing in my head, but the rent was due, and Aberlour isn't cheap.

I opened my desk drawer and casually slid the envelope into it. "Do you have a picture of..."

"Beaumont. His name is Beaumont," the woman supplied.

...