“Who would you call first in a difficult situation?”

“I'm used to relying on myself, but if the situation is very difficult... to Dog.”

(from Rina's interview to “The World Of Show Business” magazine)

As soon as Rina turned on her smartphone, it burst into a series of trills. Forty-nine messages and sixty-three missed calls. Despite the fact that only a few people knew her personal number. Rina hesitated whether to open the messages, but then, without reading any, resolutely pulled out and broke the SIM card in half. That's all. With a dry crunch of the sim card, her life also seemed to crack. As it turns out, just in one second, everything that has been built over the years - career, love, friendship - collapses. Now she has no past, no future, only the present. And her present - tears welling up in her eyes and two tiny fragments of a SIM card in the palm of her hand. Rina clenched her fist, and then, swinging, threw the remains of the plastic into the raspberry bushes.

Don't go limp! The situation is a stalemate, but this is not the final.

She pulled out another phone from her jacket pocket - a simple one that she can't access the Internet from, and inserted another SIM card with a single number into it. And then, without giving herself time to doubt, she pressed the call. And when she was answered, she said decisively:

“I did.”

This time was answered with silence. But Rina didn’t expect any praise or comments, and a second before the phone rings, she dropped the call herself. That's all. She did.

She shoved a smartphone that had become useless into her backpack, lifted a pot with a cracked lump of earth standing on the dirty windowsill and saw the promised key. The lock, seemingly flimsy and unreliable, yielded reluctantly. The door swung open with a plaintive creak, complaining, like an old woman, about a hard life. The house smelled of dust and dampness. Rina winced, but immediately mentally cheered herself up: it's not scary, she will restore order and comfort, throw out everything old, moldy and rotten, and wash the room to sterile cleanliness. There's nothing else she can do anyway.

She dropped her backpack on the floor and carefully stepped inside. A small hallway, in which there was only a floor hanger from the ‘furniture’, led to a large room adjacent to a small bedroom. There was a bathroom on the right side of the hallway, and a spacious kitchen on the left. In the kitchen, Rina immediately liked it: she imagined how she would arrange pots of flowers on the wide window sill, how she would hang elegant curtains, pull them apart in the morning and admire the apple tree drowning in bloom from the window. But the window still had to be washed, because through the dirty, as if sooty, glass, the silhouette of the apple tree seemed to be a blurred shadow. And the apple tree itself is overgrown with weeds to the lower branches. Rina hastily examined the drawers and cabinets of the kitchen and made sure that they were empty and not as spoiled by dampness as she feared. Whoever lived here before her kept the house tidy and clean.

The fact that the lockers were empty seemed to be both a plus and a minus. On the one hand, she doesn’t have to disassemble someone else's utensils. On the other hand, she doesn't even have anything to boil tea in. However, she didn't have any tea or groceries either. But there was a pot-bellied refrigerator with her height, which, despite its small size, promised happiness. And happiness was also promised by a water supply system with a heater, a stove and an oven connected to a gas cylinder. Fine! Rina, already in a different mood, explored the rooms and the bathroom and was satisfied. The former owners took out their belongings, leaving only the necessary furniture: a quite tolerable bed with a new mattress, a wardrobe and a bedside table in the bedroom, a round table with two chairs, a sofa, a folding chair and an empty bookcase in the living room. In the bathroom, instead of the expected shower, to her joy, Rina found a deep bath. It will clean it to a snow-white shine and will enjoy nightly bathing with foam! Life suddenly turned the other way and even smiled with a gap-toothed smile. The house turned out to be more than habitable. So, the fact that in the nearest village you can buy everything you need - from groceries to clothes and kitchen utensils - the former owner didn’t deceive.

Rina hid her backpack in the closet, took a small amount of cash with her and carefully locked the house.

The sun, as if mocking all the troubles, splashed in the face with dazzling glare. The warm wind kissed her cheeks, wiping the remnants of tears from them. And Rina, smiling at the sun and the wind, came down from the wooden porch.

The trail is overgrown with wet grass, saturated with juicy greenery after recent rains. Her feet in soft sneakers immediately got wet, and Rina added rubber boots to her mental shopping list. And she also decided to buy a shopping cart so as not to carry purchases in her hands, and, perhaps, a bicycle, because the village was more than a kilometer away, and this was also a plus in buying this house. Rina needed a secluded place, but in relative proximity to the settlement.

A meadow immediately began behind her plot, and Rina stopped, admiring the natural beauty of the grassy sea. The immaculate greenery was broken by bright splashes of yellow, red and blue flowers. And this picture involuntarily brought her back to her childhood memories - to those few glimpses of happiness in the prolonged haze of everyday life. Rina remembered how once she went for a walk with an elderly Korean woman which she called Nuliya, who treated her like her own granddaughter. Nuliya that day begged eight-year-old Rina from the teachers and took her to her place to treat her to a sweet pie with berry filling and lemonade. The road also led through a meadow, and Nuliya told Rina, and then Vita Naumova, something about each flower.

For a second it seemed to Rina that she was squeezing the warm and hard hand of her benefactress. Tears welled up in her eyes, but not because of the memories, but because she couldn’t write or call Nuliya. And an elderly woman will worry, read the announcements about the cancellation of concerts in the press and wonder what happened to her ‘sa’ - bird. Rina regretted that she had not secretly sent her at least a short warning. But then she remembered that she would put not only Nuliya, but also close friends at risk: Dog, Violet, Elvira and Valery.

She took a slow breath in and out to get rid of unnecessary regrets, and resolutely headed across the meadow to a lone tree that spread its thick crown to the sun like open palms. The former owner said that she needed to walk to this tree, and then turn right and, guided by the old water tower, go straight to the road. And that will lead to a village shop where she can buy basic necessities. And if she needs furniture, clothes or gardening tools, then a bus runs from the village to the city, which will bring her to the market. Rina saw a leaning tower with a rusted barrel at the top as soon as she turned right. Leaving behind a tree, the breed of which she could not determine, she walked briskly in the direction of this barrel and went out onto the road.

To Rina's delight, there were no other customers in the village market. The gloomy saleswoman measured the unfamiliar customer with a curious look, but she let go of the right one in silence.

At home, Rina first put the kettle on and made a big sandwich from a thick slice of bread and ham, and after lunch she started cleaning. By the time the crimson twilight descended on the meadow, the house was washed to a shine. A blooming apple tree peered into the window, which was clean to transparency, the aroma of freshness filled the room, expelling the musty smells of dampness from it. Rina closed the windows, took a bath and got into a clean bed. She fell into a dream as if into an abyss, and despite her worries, she slept soundly and without dreams. She was woken up long before the alarm clock by a playful ray of sunlight sliding down her cheek. Rina had a quick breakfast, changed into comfortable pants and a hoodie, braided her long hair into a thick braid and left the house. The first bus to the city left in forty minutes. Rina checked in her pocket the list of what she was going to buy, and walked to the already familiar tree on the grass crushed the day before.

But two-thirds of the way through, she saw a wide crack in the ground, which ran in an uneven zigzag to the tree. Rina squatted down and spread the meadow grass with her palms. The crack seemed as deep as a rift. There was an earthquake at night, but she, tired after the road and cleaning, didn’t feel the tremors? Looking down at her feet, Rina reached the tree and discovered another frightening oddity: green the day before, now it turned out to be only on one side. The other part of the crown had dried up, and the grass under it was covered with a thick carpet of brown-brown foliage, like in fall.

  

 

 

“Stop here,” Yura commanded, following the numbering through the window. There was a sign with the number ‘77’ on the high gate, they needed another house, but Yura liked a tall tree with a wide crown, in the shade of which it was possible to hide a car. Manya obediently turned to the curb and parked.

“Yura, I think this is a bad idea.”

“It's a great idea!” he objected and rubbed his palms in anticipation. Then he craned his neck to see if anyone was walking down the street. It wasn't that he didn't want to attract other people's attention, but it was easier to take photos and shoot videos on a deserted street.

He once again mentally thanked fate for such luck: the right address was indicated by the owners on their website. It was more difficult to find out who Dog whom Rina once mentioned in an interview was. Yura rummaged through a bunch of publications, researched all the official and personal pages of the singer, joined all kinds of fan clubs and assembled the necessary mosaic from tiny puzzles. He even found one photo taken after some concert. Judging by Rina's short haircut, it was one of her first performances. The singer was hugging a tanned girl, and a tall man was standing next to them, smiling. Yura was stubborn when it came to investigations, he didn’t give up before difficult tasks, otherwise there would not have been so many interviews with ‘stars’ in his track record. Therefore, he found out not only the name of that mysterious Dog - Vsevolod Volkov, but also his profession and address.

“Yura,” Manya tried to reason with him, but out of habit, because she lost even at the moment when she agreed to take her brother out of town.

“Everything will be fine!” he answered cheerfully and opened the door. “Wait for me here! I'll walk.”

“I don't think they'll want to talk to you,” flew after him. But Yura had already slammed the door, pulled out his phone and took a few pictures of the street, then turned on the video and, dictating on the go, walked to the right house. However, he hesitated at the door and put his mobile phone in his pocket. This family was engaged in training dogs, including those that their owners could not cope with. Yura immediately imagined how a pack of pit bulls and bull terriers would be brought to the gate at the bell, and his resolve cracked for the first time that morning. But he immediately reminded himself that giving up was not his style. He will talk toVsevolod, even if he has to leave his loin in the pit bull's teeth. Many colleagues report from hot spots and risk their own lives for sensational material. Here just dogs! And Yura resolutely pressed the bell button.

To his surprise, there was no barking or other noise, giving away the presence of dogs behind the fence. Yura even thought that he had made a mistake and took a step back to make sure that the address was correct, but at that moment the door next to the gate swung open.

The owner himself opened it for him, and it seemed like a good sign.

“Hello!” Yura greeted cheerfully and smiled as affably as possible, wanting to immediately win over someone whom Rina considered a close friend. In reality, Volkov wasn’t as tall as in the photo, and Vsevolod now wore a short haircut and a stylish beard. But Yura would have recognized him anyway, even if he had accidentally met him on the street.

“Hello,” the owner greeted calmly, glanced at Yura and lowered his eyes, as if hoping to see someone else. A dog or someone else. They probably come here right away with dogs. Yura suddenly felt uncomfortable. And not only because he appeared in another case, but also because Volkov was a whole head taller than him, and this ‘automatically’ gave him an advantage.

“Um…” Yura began, because the owner of the house continued to wait patiently, while blocking the guest's view and still not inviting him to pass.

“You were recommended to me,” Yura blurted out, not at all what he was going to say. But Volkov's gaze suddenly warmed up, a smile even appeared on his lips. Vsevolod stepped aside and invited the guest with a gesture.

“What breed?”

“What?” Yura didn’t understand, following the owner across the yard to a small gazebo.

“What breed is your dog?” Volkov explained patiently, looking over his shoulder at him.

Yura hesitated and mentally scolded himself for such a blunder. It was necessary to at least read something about dog breeds on the Internet before going to visit a dog handler! It was a mistake to tune in only to talk about the singer and not work out the ‘dog’ topic.

“Poodle!” Yura gave out the first thing that came to mind. “Such, you know… cute. Dancing on its hind legs like this…”

He folded his arms in front of his chest like paws, stuck out his tongue and imitated something like a dog dance. It looks like the improvisation was a success, because Volkov smiled again. And this dog handler is nothing, pleasant, kind and, it seems, open! A person who loves dogs cannot be angry and angry. Yura cheered up completely, deciding that the conversation would go like clockwork, and stole a glance around the yard: spacious, clean and bright. Not far from the porch there was a children's swing, which gave away the presence of children in the family. Two pink scooters were lying next to the playhouse. And behind the house, next to the flower bed, Yura saw a small sandbox. On the other side, not far from the gazebo to which his owner led him, there were a couple of long tables and benches on a neatly trimmed lawn and, a little further away, a barbecue. It seems that large companies often gather in this house. Everything was arranged for a pleasant pastime, but Yura didn’t notice anything hinting at the occupation indicated on the website.

“The training ground is not here,” Vsevolod explained, catching his gaze. And, deciding that it was better to show the guest its location, he led past the gazebo to the mesh fence separating the living area from the large lawn. There were some buildings near the fence, and in the distance Yura noticed something similar to an ‘obstacle course’ - logs, shields, cones.

“There's a playground. And there will be a nursery next to the house. We've already set it up.”

“And... and I think, why is it so quiet?” Yura laughed, returning with the owner to the gazebo. He sat down on a bench, which Volkov hospitably pointed out to him, and drummed his fingers on his knee, thinking how to turn the conversation to the right topic.

“Classes will start in less than an hour, and the dogs are brought to another entrance,” explained Vsevolod, sitting down opposite Yura. “So tell me about your dog. What age, what is its name, where and at what age did you take it, how did the adaptation go? But it's better to start with the problem.”

“With a problem?”

Out of the corner of his eye, Yura noticed that the door in the house opened slightly and a girl of about four years old in a white blouse and a denim skirt came out on the porch. Her hair was braided into two disheveled pigtails, the strands that had escaped from her hairstyle curled finely, forming a dark cloud over her head. The girl was holding a gray cat under her front paws, whose hind paws were hanging limply, like a rag doll. The poor animal either had already resigned itself to its fate, or was half-dead after playing with a young mistress, or simply turned out to be so lazy that it didn't care what was being done to it. But before the girl could sit down on a bench near the orphanage, the door opened again with a loud bang and another girl, dressed in an orange jumpsuit, flew down the steps like a fiery sun. Yura's eyes were already filled with such a riot of red.

“What are your difficulties with the dog?” Vsevolod returned his attention. The conversation was taking the wrong turn, risking finally slipping into a dog topic. And the time for everything is less than an hour, because then Volkov will leave to study with other people's dogs. But just as Yura was about to admit that he had come upon a completely different matter, a piercing squeal was heard from the side of the house. Yura looked around in fright and saw that the girls were already sharing the cat: one was dragging it by the front paws, the other was pulling it out of her sister's hands by the hind ones. But it wasn't the cat that was screaming at all, the twins were screaming in a duet.

“Marta! Marfa!” Vsevolod reacted instantly. “Leave cat alone! I'm counting to two!”

The girls simultaneously unclenched their hands, and the cat plopped down on its paws in the grass. Yura expected that it would instantly start running away from the tormentors, but the cat remained lying in place. Moreover, it began to slowly lick its paw. And the twins had already switched to a scooter: despite the presence of a second one, they both needed the one that lay closest. Vsevolod quickly resolved the dispute with a shout, and one of the girls, the one in a skirt and blouse, obediently went to the second scooter. Yura watched the twins accelerate along the concrete path leading behind the house, and turned to Vsevolod.

“Actually, I didn't come to talk to you about dogs,” he said decisively. “Although we can talk about dogs too! Another time! I will be happy to write a whole article about you and your pets…”

“So you're a journalist?” Vsevolod asked bluntly and narrowed his eyes. The warm honey hue in his eyes dissolved into cold greenery, and Yura immediately realized that this look of Volkov didn’t bode well. But he didn’t shirk.

“Yes. I came to talk about your friend. Rina. Do you know she's missing?”

“Do you know where it is?” Volkov answered the question with a question, getting up from the bench. He answered sarcastically, without a shadow of curiosity or concern, and crossed his arms over his chest. Yura also jumped up from his seat, but Vsevolod, due to his height, continued to loom over him menacingly.

“No, but… I want to find out where Rina is and what happened to her!”

“Let the police find out, not the journalists.”

“But Rina is your friend! Aren't you afraid for her? Aren’t you interested in where she disappeared and…”

“Exactly! Rina is my friend! That's why I'm not going to discuss her life, her decisions, or herself with anyone!”

“Her decisions?..” Yura seized on the phrase like ice breaking off around him, still trying to get something useful out of the conversation for himself.

“Will you leave or I need to throw you out?” Vsevolod asked quietly and took a step in his direction. Yura understood right away that Volkov would handle him like a puppy, so he obediently nodded and backed away. Twins girls had already rolled on scooters and were now throwing sand in the sandbox with a squeal. The striped cat lay down on the roof of the house, exposing its back to the May sun. A window on the ground floor opened, a young woman leaned out to the waist and shouted something to the girls. Normal life continued around. But Yura's life, judging by the bad squint of the owner of the house and the cold in his eyes, was in danger. What a blessing that this fiery family does not keep bull terriers!

“Hurry up, hurry up. The exit is there,” Vsevolod hurried him, and Yura backed away faster. But, already going out into the street, he managed to shout:

“Rina could have been kidnapped! A misfortune could have happened to her!”

The answer to him was the eloquent roar of the slamming door.

Yura hypnotized the door with his gaze for a moment, but didn’t ring again. They won't open it for him. The conversation he had pinned such hopes on failed miserably. And Yura failed it himself. It was he who managed to bring the most unapproachable ‘stars’ to frankness. Shame!

Yura trampled on the spot, then stepped aside, but didn’t return to the car, but stopped on the side of the road, giving himself time to cool down after the failure and mentally prepare for Manya's exclamation: ‘I told you so!’

But just as he decided to get back into the car, fortune suddenly turned to face him. The door opened again, and a young woman whom Yura had glimpsed a few minutes ago came out into the street. A tall mongrel dog appeared behind the hostess, and behind him, stepping with long paws, a young wolf.

The wolf! Yura grunted in surprise. He was afraid of bull terriers, and it turns out that a predator lives in the family of a dog handler! It was lucky that Volkov didn’t set his... pet on an unwanted ‘guest’.

Meanwhile, the young woman pulled a wavy dark strand behind her ear and, without looking back, led the dog and wolf on leashes for a walk. The street ended in a wide field, at the end of which was a dark forest landing. That's where this strange trio headed. Yura smiled happily, smoothed his tousled hair and silently followed in the hope that this  ‘red riding hood’, who tamed the wolf, would be much friendlier than her husband and would tell something about Rina. What is the name of Vsevolod's wife? Her name was unusual, foreign and beautiful. She was just as beautiful: her photo was on the website, and Yura, he remembered, lingered on the page, considering the unusual features and rare aquamarine shade of the eyes of Vsevolod’s wife. What is her name? Violet! The name came to mind immediately, as soon as Yura mentally imagined a page with photos.

He followed this Violet, who, because of her short stature and fragile physique, seemed like a girl, especially against the background of a tall dog and a long-legged wolf, and figured out how to start a conversation so as not to cause the hostess to want to unleash toothy bodyguards on him. For how deftly Violet handled both the dog and the wolf, Yura immediately felt both sympathy and respect for her. However, if she has learned to tame juvenile red-haired beasts, then to cope with a wolf for her is a snap.

Meanwhile, the road narrowed to a trail. Violet leaned over to the ‘bodyguards’, who had been pacing peacefully on either side of her, and unhooked the leashes. The adult dog stepped aside sedately, unhurriedly lifted his hind paw and thoughtfully marked a tall blade of grass. And it was as if a firecracker was inserted under the tail of the young wolf: he started off towards the forest at such a speed that only he was seen.

“Dimik!” Violet shouted, and then ordered the mongrel dog who looked back at her: “Iso, bring him back!”

And, to Yura's surprise, the dog obeyed and rushed to the forest. But even more stunned was the fact that the dog managed to stop the cub and make him turn to the owner. Yura, almost betraying his presence, cried out in amazement. But Violet didn't hear anything, because at that time she answered the phone.

“Yes, Elvir. How are you?”

Continuing to talk as she walked, she slowly walked on - to where a wolf and a mongrel dog were frolicking at the edge of the forest. After asking the unknown interlocutor about the baby and other mom's difficulties and joys, Violet said with a heavy sigh:

“No, Elvir. There is no news about Rina. Her phone is still unavailable, she has not sent us any messages. I am restless with worry, and Vsevolod too. We have reported it to the police, but nothing is known yet. She could have been abducted in order to somehow influence or put pressure on Dimitri. You know… With his business, money, turnover, competitors and so on... but Rina paid all the penalties for canceled performances! If she had been kidnapped, would she have had time to do it? And her managers would rather postpone the concerts than decide to incur such losses. Do you also think she was planning her disappearance? But why didn't she call any of us? She would have come to us… I'm afraid she's suddenly revealed something she shouldn't have... I hope you get it. And fell through there. But we can't tell the police this version! Only Vsevolod, you, Valery and I understand…”

She suddenly looked around, and Yura, taken by surprise, smiled confusedly. Violet abruptly ended the conversation, put the phone in her pocket and frowned.

“Uh... is that a wolf you have?! Sorry, I couldn't resist. I saw it, and I followed you to ask.”

“A dog,” Violet replied dryly, clearly not buying this excuse. Her husband couldn't help but warn that a journalist was sneaking around their house. “Czechoslovakian wolfdog.”

“Oh my god. I dream of such a thing! I'm going to Google it,” Yura muttered hurriedly, in order to avoid questions, bowed and, under Violet's stern gaze, turned around. He almost ran, now and then expecting an attack from behind, and he overcame the way to the car in a matter of minutes. And only when he was already next to his sister and caught his breath, he said with feeling:

“Manya! We urgently need a dog! Or rather, you!”

He briefly outlined his plan, but received only an indignant cry from Manya in response:

“Are you insane?!”

“Manya! There is no other way out. These Volkovs know me by sight! And they know that I'm interested in Rina. But they didn't see you. You will come to them under the guise of the owner of the dog and…”

“No!”

“Manya,” Yura whined. “This case is very interesting! Violet said a lot of things on the phone. She knows something, I can smell it!”

“You were fired because of this interesting case!”

“First of all! Fired! So I need to look for a new job! And the case of Rina's disappearance is my chance! If I dig up sensational material, not only will my competitors pay well for it, but they will also order another thing! And I'll also promote a blog! Bloggers, too, do you know how much they get on one ad? Manya, it's all for the cause! You just need to take the dog to class…”

“What kind of dog, dumb asshole?! I don't have a dog!”

“You will have!” Yura promised with an oath.

“Why did it give up on me?! I've never had a dog in my life! And I don't want to have it!”

“Manya,” Yura came in from the other side. “A dog is a company. You're lonely and…”

“It's a shame!” Manya threw angrily and in her heart started off at such a speed that Yura was already pressed into the seat.