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in against the
    shoe-width crack in the door. “Do you know the penalty for assaulting a police officer?”
    “What?” She stared at his badge and then slumped against the doorframe, letting the door fall open. “I
    don’t believe this. I just don’t believe this.”
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    “Believe it, lady. Can I come in, or do you want to beat on me some more?”
    She stood back so he could go in, her eyes wide in her woebegone face, and Zack would have felt sorry
    for her if he hadn’t been in so much pain.
    “Thank you.” He limped past her into the vestibule. She closed the door behind him and then opened the
    vestibule door, and the dogs attacked.
    The big sheep dog was the first to reach him. It immediately leaned heavily against his leg, shedding all
    over his jeans and drooling into his shoe. The little skinny brown one draped itself over Zack’s uninjured
    foot and stared off into space at nothing in particular. And the one that looked like a floor mop barked at
    him once and then rolled over onto its back with all four short legs in the air and lay there, motionless.
    “These are vicious attack dogs?”
    “I thought you were a mugger.” She shoved her impossible hair out of her face. “And they sound
    vicious.” They both looked down at the dogs. “Sort of.”
    “What’s wrong with the mop?” Zack asked.
    “He’s not a mop. That’s Heisenburg and... Never mind. Am I under arrest for beating you up?”
    “You did not beat me up, lady. The only reason you hit me at all is that I wasn’t defending myself
    because I didn’t want to hurt you.” Zack looked down at Heisenburg. “Is he sick?”
    “No,” she said. “It’s a dog joke. It’s the only one he knows.”
    “A dog joke.”
    “Yes. You feed him the setup, and then he does the punch line. Like a knock-knock joke.”
    “You taught this dog a joke?”
    “No.” She looked down at the mop with pride. “He thought it up on his own.”
    Zack looked around the spotless vestibule and through the open door. The next room was spacious,
    with high ceilings and hardwood floors covered with worn Oriental rugs. It was Ml of sunlight and
    comfortable, threadbare, overstuffed furniture, and he could hear a fire crackling cheerfully somewhere
    close. He looked at the woebegone brunette gazing down at her three dogs, and at the two dogs gazing
    back adoringly. And finally he looked at the third dog, Heisenburg, waiting patiently on his back for his
    setup line.
    If this woman was a crook, he was Queen of the May. He grinned at her so suddenly that she blinked.
    “You’re not a criminal, are you?” he asked, and she shook her head.
    “Not unless you arrest me for mugging you. I deserve it. I know I deserve it. But you scared me.” She
    frowned. “Why did you drag me into that alley?”
    “We need to talk.” Zack held out his hand. “I’m Detective Zachery Warren.”
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    She took his hand and shook it. “I’m Lucy Savage, and I’m really sorry I beat you up. Your lip looks
    awful.”
    “You didn’t beat me up. Would you feed this dog his line so we can go sit down?”
    “Oh, no!” Lucy said, with so much enthusiasm that Zack looked to see what was wrong. “Dead dog?”
    Heisenburg rolled over and jumped to his feet and barked.
    Zack looked at Lucy. “That’s a dog joke?”
    “What did you expect? ‘That was no lady, that was my wife’?”
    “I don’t know,” Zack said, confused. “Can we go sit down? My foot is killing me.”
    “If you don’t mind, I’d like to ask you a few questions before I explain about the alley,” Zack began
    when he was finally sitting on the rose-colored love seat across from the blazing fireplace in the living
    room. So far, he’d turned down coffee, tea, soft drinks, aspirin, and ice for his foot from Lucy, and
    affectionate approaches from Heisenberg, who