Lover Man: An Artie Deemer Mystery - Plot & Excerpts
I took Jellyroll for his evening walk down by the Hudson River, where the mist had turned to genuine sea fog. Jellyroll chased a soggy squirrel, which when treed, chattered angrily down at him, and I felt guilty for letting him do it. We were alone on the promenade that edged the river. I could hear evening commuter traffic, bumper to bumper on the West Side Highway, but I couldn't see any cars. New Jersey was gone. It seemed as if I were standing on the edge of a flat, sullen sea. Suddenly I felt isolated and anxious. Where was Jellyroll? I'd heard him ranging ahead only moments ago, but I couldn't see or hear him now. I whistled. He didn't respond. I whistled again. "Hey, buddy," called a voice from the murk. "The dog's right up here." I walked toward the voice until I saw a man leaning over Jellyroll. Something was wrong. Though in the fog it looked as if the man were petting him, Jellyroll was not happy. His tail was down, ears back. That's not how he responds when strangers fuss over him.
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