Robin thumped his notebook down hard on the seat cushions. “What did you call her for? Now she’s going make a fat fuss. Their poor old dog died, and they’re burying her. It’s not a federal offense!” “Sorry to correct you, but I think it may well be,” I said, my eyes still fixed on Mr. Johnson next door. He was patting down the earth on top of the grave. “It’s definitely illegal. That dog could have died from the plague — it could have infected them. Heck, it could have infected us!” “You are so your mother’s daughter!” Robin’s look was scathing. “And what is that supposed to mean?” Mom came running in, looking totally freaked out. She freaked out easily. I pointed out the window, ignoring the stink-eye Robin was giving me, and explained what was happening. “I can’t believe some people! When they know full well what could happen.” Mom immediately snatched up Robin’s phone and called the hotline to report the death. “Which is what they should have done themselves,”
