More Harry Hogan stories!
Bertie Blackett pulled her little SUV to a stop beside Harry Hogan’s truck, got out and walked up to the door of the office that had once been a garage. He had spent Christmas with his daughter and her family but Bertie could have sworn he wasn’t due back until the following week. She stamped her feet to get rid of most of the snow on her boots and opened the door.
Harry, seated at his desk, grinned as she entered. “No need to announce your arrival. I heard you drive up.”
“I was stomping the snow off my boots,” she said. “Though I’ll never understand how some people can tell the sound of one vehicle from another.” She removed her boots and hung up her jacket. “Did I get the dates mixed up or are you home early?”
“You had it right,” he said, with a chuckle. “Mo and her husband were taking the boys skiing so I came home early.”
“Couldn’t you have gone with them?”
“And do what? I don’t ski and sitting around a ski lodge didn’t appeal to me. I figured I could find more to keep me occupied around here.”
Bertie nodded, sat down and turned on her computer. “So what are you doing, working on your novel?”
He shrugged. “Just organizing some notes, nothing…” He stopped as the door opened and a man walked in.
His jeans had more holes than denim and the hood of his grey hoodie was tied tightly under his chin. “Are you open for business?”
“We are.” Harry nodded towards the chairs facing his desk. “Have a seat.”
As the man sat down and pushed back his hood, Bertie came over with a tray containing coffee, cream and sugar. “This will help you warm up.”
He raised the cup to take a sip and looked up at her. “Much appreciated.”
She tipped her head to one side. “Aren’t you the guy they call Yelpy.”
He grinned and nodded. “Guilty as charged.”
“Yelpy?” Harry repeated. “That’s an unusual name.”
The young man laughed. “Elroy Lester Pardy Junior, to be exact. As a boy I was known as young Elroy Pardy, which somehow got shortened to ‘young El-P.’ By the time I hit high school, it somehow got twisted into Yelpy.”
“I read ‘Yelpy’s Nature Column’ every week,” Bertie said.
He nodded. “That’s how everyone I’m acquainted with knows me and, for those who don’t… it’s a great ‘nom de plume.’ Thankfully, the column is widely syndicated and my internet nature blog is pretty successful. I also do contract work under my real name, such as travel brochures, especially anything dealing with parks and nature trails.”
“Sounds interesting,” Harry said. “So, what can we do for you, Mr. Pardy?”
“I have a problem… nothing serious… but annoying… and, for the life of me, I can’t figure out what’s going on. I hope you can help.”
“That’s what we’re here for.”
“I live in an old two-story house just outside town… really old! It was actually abandoned, but something about the place appealed to me. City officials said no one had claimed ownership of the place in years. The Municipal Government had discussed demolishing it but it wasn’t a priority and they just hadn’t got around to it.”
