“What?” she asked.  “Oh, yeah.  I tied him up at around three-thirty and he was gone by a quarter to four.”

“How did you do it?”

“What do you mean?”

“What kind of knot?”

“I don’t know.  Square?  You know I was always bad at knots in Girl Scouts.”  Ivy grinned and I had to smile back.  We’d both dropped out of Girl Scouts in the third grade—right before we got our ropes tying badges—because Ivy claimed it was a fascist organization.  I didn’t know what that meant, at the time, but it sounded cool, so I kept saying it too, and eventually our parents got sick of hearing us complain and signed us up for a pottery class instead.

“Anyway, it was only a few minutes,” Ivy said.

“Before you said fifteen.”

Ivy cringed guiltily.  “Okay, I don’t know exactly how long it was.  I guess I sort of lost track.”

I shook my head.  “I can’t believe you left him on the street.”

“A shopping emergency?”

“Yes,” Ivy screamed.  “I abandoned my dog so I could shop.  I’m a horrible person!  I can’t even walk by Beacon’s Closet without feeling sick.”

“Did you see anything suspicious?  Or anyone?  Do you think someone followed you, maybe?  Can you think of anyone who might do this?”

“Like does Kermit have any enemies?” she asked.  “He’s a dog!”

“I know.  I’m just asking.  Tell me what happened again.  From the beginning this time.”

Ivy took a deep breath and huffed.  “Fine.  So I tied Kermit up to a parking meter directly in front of the store, where I’d be able to see him through the window the whole time.  Then I went inside and—”

“If you could see him the whole time, then how did he get dog-napped?”

Ivy frowned.  “I could see him when I was looking at dresses, but the sunglasses display case is in the back.”

I groaned.

“It’s not my fault,” said Ivy.  “I made one tiny mistake.  In one moment, I had the perfect dress for the fall dance.  And in the next, my dog vanished.”