Chet The Dog

And by the way – Sunday: Elvis Gospel

Hands up high? Had nothing to do with me. And maybe not Bernie either, even though he has hands, for sure. But he didn’t raise them.

“Chet!” he said, and at the same time dove under the wreckage of the old biplane. I crawled in with him, just in time. Crack! Zing! I knew those sounds. We were getting shot at. It happens sometimes in our job. Is it time to mention what we do, me and Bernie? We run the Little Detective Agency. Bernie’s name is Bernie Little. I’m Chet, pure and simple. We specialize in missing persons cases, missing kids most of all, but what with our finances being a mess we take just about anything, including divorce work, which we hate. In this particular case, we had a missing client, Kelo Printz, Hollywood guy. 

Crack! Zing!

“Don’t like getting shot at,” Bernie said. Then neither did I. Bernie reached into his belt. Hey! The .38 Special. I’d forgotten all about it. Good things usually happened when the .38 Special came out.

Tags: .38 Special, Kelo Printz, Little Detective Agency

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