Last But Not Leashed, page 15
Or perhaps Posey was already dead.
In the morning, I felt my lack of sleep. I walked and fed the dogs, showered, and dressed in a sort of stupor. Figuring coffee would jolt me awake, I headed for the employee lounge and the luscious smell of vanilla almond mocha.
“Hey, Kate.” Mari greeted me while pouring a cup of coffee. “Can I get you one?”
“Definitely.” I sank into one of our lounge chairs, desperately wanting to go back to sleep. The worn corduroy upholstery welcomed me into its folds.
When I looked up and gratefully took my coffee from Mari’s hand, she commented, “Rough night?”
The coffee tasted bitter and hot and perfect. I took another sip before answering her question. “I got to sleep fine. But then every hour I woke up from this nightmare I couldn’t shake.”
“I’m sorry. Maybe you can sneak in a nap at lunch.”
Mari often took catnaps, sometimes as short as ten or fifteen minutes. Napping simply made me more tired.
Another sip and the caffeine began to work. “Just keep it coming. Did you happen to look at the appointment schedule for today?”
She glanced down at her phone. “It’s not too bad. I think we’re done by five-ish.”
The clicking of heels along the hallway signaled Cindy was about to join us.
With a quick gulp I finished my first cup and made a beeline to our coffee station.
“Good morning, everyone,” Cindy said in her cheerleader voice. “How are you this morning?”
“Tired,” I said. An individually wrapped biscotti on the countertop by the side of the coffee machine caught my eye. “Can I have this?”
“Sure,” Mari said. “A client dropped a bunch of them off for us yesterday.”
Cindy watched me go back to my chair. Her sympathetic look assumed, I think, my exhaustion had something to do with my love life.
“Well, I started my day cleaning up puppy poo,” Mari volunteered. “Can’t wait until I can house-train those little beasties.”
“Sounds like everyone has been busy.” Our receptionist smiled at us like a kindergarten teacher does at her pupils. “Kate, Lucky Heally dropped in to schedule an interview. Do you have time now?”
At the moment I didn’t even want to talk to myself.
“Please? That would be one less item on my to-do list,” her voice pleaded.
With effort I pulled myself out of the chair, hoisted my coffee, and replied, “Okay. Give me five minutes to prepare and then escort him to my office.”
“Will do. Mari, let’s go over the house calls for today so you can inventory the truck.” Cindy didn’t wait for an answer but instead hurried out the door and down the hallway.
“And so it begins.” Mari tossed me a smile and shook her curls into place.
Precisely five minutes later, Cindy knocked on my office door. I’d tried to jot down a list of questions but hadn’t gotten past writing the number one. Trailing behind was the boy I’d seen hiding in his mother’s car.
“Dr. Kate, this is Lucky Heally. He just graduated from high school and is entering community college this semester. Can you speak to him about volunteering and the vet assistant position?”
“Nice to officially meet you, Lucky.” Today the tips of his hair were a subdued shade of purple.
“Dr. Kate. Pleasure to meet you.”
Lucky’s voice wobbled a bit on the word “pleasure.” He’d suddenly become very formal, perhaps courtesy of his mother’s coaching.
“Why don’t you sit down and tell me about yourself?” I gestured to the chair in front of my desk.
Once sitting, Lucky stared at me, physically growing more nervous by the second. A tiny twitch contracted over his eyebrow. The poor kid seemed intimidated. I took pity on him and started the conversation myself.
“So, have you always lived here in Oak Falls?”
“Yes. I mean no. Uh, we moved here from New Jersey when I was a kid. When I was ten.”
After that jumbled response, he seemed to relax a bit.
“You graduated from…”
“High school.”
Boy, this was like trying to pull teeth from a shark. I jumped to the main topic. “Why do you want to work at an animal hospital, Lucky?”
His blue eyes rose up to look into mine. “I love animals. All animals. And to help them when they are sick, or hurt, seems like the best job in the world.” His shy smile betrayed a caring heart.
“I’ll tell you a secret,” I replied. “It is the best job in the world.”
Before I could ask him anything else, he said, “How is that gray pit bull doing? Will he be okay?”
Taking a gamble I asked, “Did you leave him out by the dumpster? Tell me the truth. I won’t get mad at you.”
His face flushed red. “Yes.”
I leaned closer. “Can you tell me what happened?”
His story was simple and direct. He’d gone down to New Jersey to meet up with friends to celebrate their graduations. They’d gone out as a group, but somehow Lucky got separated, instead ending up with some friends of friends. These guys were older, edgier, and suggested they go gambling. With one too many beers in him, poor Lucky followed the crowd. Someone pushed him into the passenger seat of his own car and drove it to a warehouse. Two of the boys played craps and the other dragged him into a back room to watch an illegal dogfight. Lucky sobered up quickly when he saw the poor gray pit bull that wouldn’t fight back.
After the fight was over, Lucky snuck into the back to find the bait dog lying still in the ring. He wrapped him up in his jacket, slipped out an unlocked back door, and loaded him into his car. One of the promoters noticed and started yelling. Panicked and scared, Lucky backed his car into a Porsche convertible, before taking off. The poor kid headed for home, driving up the interstate uncertain what to do.
“My mom mentioned how kind you were with our dog, Dr. Kate, so I figured you’d take care of him. That he’d be safe with you. I stayed that morning until I saw you open your door.”
Those shining bright eyes stared at me with total faith.
“You’re right. He’s safe with us,” I told him. “Lucky, you did a very brave thing.” I left out the part about backing into an expensive sports car.
His upper lip quivered. “Yeah, well I might be in trouble. I’m not sure, but I think one of the guys from the dogfight was at Mom’s meeting the other night. I’m afraid they’re looking for me.”
Lucky left with my assurance that I wouldn’t tell his mom, and that I’d keep Mr. Pitt safe from harm. I wasn’t sure how practical the first promise was, but I was rock sure about the second.
After much thought, I texted Mari.
“What’s up?” she said after opening the office door and poking her head through.
“We’ve got a situation,” I began.
“Don’t we always?” she replied with a laugh. “Something to do with unlucky Lucky, I suppose?”
Nodding my head, I leaned back in my office chair and gave her the condensed version of how we ended up with Mr. Pitt.
“Poor kid,” she said. “Do you think those guys have anything to do with dogfights? I thought Cindy said they were bodyguards?”
I’d wondered about that, too, and come up with a tentative conclusion. “I think the best thing is for you to take Mr. Pitt to your place.” Mari owned two gigantic Rottweilers, Lucy and Desi, both schooled in Schutzhund, which includes protection and attack commands. In addition, her home was right around the corner from Chief Garcia and Cindy—not somewhat isolated like the animal hospital.
“No can do,” Mari reminded me. “I’ve got Lucy and the puppies. There is no way she’s allowing a strange male dog into the house. But I’ll be happy to loan you Desi if you like.”
Desi weighed almost a hundred pounds, most of which was muscle. Mari had trained and showed him very successfully, and now the five-year-old routinely accompanied her on hikes and camping trips. The alarm system and his presence in the hospital would give me an additional feeling of security when I was by myself.
“Deal,” I told her. “I need you to tell me something.”
“Sure.”
“What are his on guard and attack commands?”
I wanted to be prepared for the worst.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Morning light streamed in through the gap in my living room curtains. Today, I had the luxury of sleeping in. Our house-call appointments started at ten, so Mari and I didn’t have to rush around to get on the road. I texted Cindy I’d been in soon.
I checked my emails on the office computer, and then Mari and I were on the road again.
Throughout the previous evening, I’d heard the rumble of heavy machinery on the main highway. When I pulled the truck out of our parking lot, I found the roads clear and newly graveled, with dirty snow shoulders piled up higher on both sides. Since the weather hadn’t warmed up much, the nearby fields stayed hidden under snow-covered blankets that stretched up to the National Forest tree line. We were on our way to see another of my favorite clients. Although my patient today was one of her rescue dogs, the animal I hoped to see was her adopted mustang, Lobo.
“Our turn is coming up soon,” Mari reminded me.
Her voice pulled me out of myself. My thoughts had drifted off to murder, and vengeance, as the tall pine trees slid darkly past.
A sign pointing to Maple Grove Farm came quickly into view, so I slowed down and put my turn signal on. I remembered her steep driveway and shifted into low gear. Sure enough, the tires dug into the semi-frozen soil. As the truck climbed a rise, we spun gravel as we approached the crest.
Suddenly an SUV crested the hill and headed right toward us. I immediately honked my horn, then moved over onto the right shoulder. The driver casually waved as they sped by.
“That was a bit close,” I commented. The farm’s driveway width was comfortable for one and a half vehicles, tight for two.
Mari turned in her seat to watch the SUV disappear down the hill. “I think that was Elaine. A sign on the side of the car said OVERMANN ORGANIZING. Wonder what she’s doing here?”
I drove back onto the road and continued up the hill. The driveway soon opened onto a large clearing with flat grazing fields on both sides. One of the older properties just outside of Oak Falls, the picture-perfect farmhouse featured a wraparound porch. Smoke rose from the chimney and dispersed over the nearby corral and faded red barn.
Originally from New York City, Ashley and her partner bought and ran the farm as an animal refuge, taking in a slew of rescue dogs, cats, horses, and assorted other creatures. We were here today to recheck a shaggy dog that had won my unofficial Oak Falls Animal Hospital award for the stinkiest ears in the Hudson Valley.
A quick glance at the front pastures showed burros, goats, and one horse casually munching hay from a rack, flicking it every which way, some landing on the back of a nearby goat. Large rubber mats covered the ground on both sides of the hay manger, to cut down on mixing the feed with gravel and dirt. There was no sign of the mustang, Lobo.
When we pulled up in front of the farmhouse, Ashley opened the door and a flood of barking dogs poured out to greet us. I immediately spotted Tommy, our patient. His ears hung normally, and I didn’t notice a smell. So far so good, I thought.
A wild chorus of yips and yaps escorted us inside. The farmhouse interior revealed a recent remodel that appeared tasteful and expensive.
“So glad you could stop by,” Ashley said as she lowered herself onto a kitchen chair. “This boot is so cumbersome. I only go out now if I have to.” She leaned down and adjusted the strap on her orthopedic device.
“How’s the ankle doing?” I asked, taking a seat at the table. Tommy came over for a pet and head rub.
“Well,” she sighed, “I’ve got another two weeks to go before my next recheck. Then let’s hope it comes off permanently.”
While she was talking, I had been sniffing my patient’s ears. Mari noticed and dug out the veterinary otoscope. With a little help from my assistant, I examined each ear, careful to change out the plastic cover between ears.
“I’m impressed,” I told Ashley as I palpated the dog’s lymph nodes and listened to his heart. “Mixed ear infections like his, with yeast and bacteria, are difficult to clear up. Getting the ear canal pH back into normal ranges in floppy ears like he has takes dedication.”
A big smile lit her face. “I’ve been stuck inside since I last saw you, so Tommy benefited from that regimen you prescribed.”
On hearing his name, my patient loped over to his owner.
Handing the equipment to Mari, I removed my exam gloves and dumped them into a bag for disposal. A quick soapy hand wash, and we were done.
The aroma of freshly brewed coffee wafting from the coffee maker smelled delicious. “Would you like some?” Ashley asked.
“Don’t get up,” Mari said. “We can help ourselves.”
“I just made it a few minutes ago for Elaine, but she had to run.”
With cup in hand, Mari sat down. “I thought that was her on the driveway. Are you using her services?”
A glance at the kitchen showed a well-ordered space, but I knew, from my many house calls, that different parts of houses present different challenges for people. The kitchen might be clean, but the garage could be a disaster.
“Originally I hired Sookie, to redesign my laundry area. We had a meeting, and I put down a deposit. After she passed away, I contacted Elaine. She’s been very helpful, full of fresh ideas. I’m making accommodations in case of another injury since I am super clumsy.”
“That’s prudent.” With my coffee still too hot to drink I said, “Has Elaine taken over Sookie’s business, now?”
“We discussed that. She’s been having a difficult time with Glenn Overmann. Seems he wants to sell the remaining business and whatever assets are left. Elaine is focusing on completing Sookie’s projects, so their customers aren’t left with half-finished jobs, but Glenn is trying to prevent that. Elaine offered to split any profits, but he just keeps screaming and threatening her. The poor girl tries to hide it, but she’s frazzled, trying to please everyone. I think she could use a friend.”
Mari and I looked at each other. “She did a great job the other night at the community center,” I told our client.
“The center appreciated her finishing off the series.” Ashley hesitated. “Maybe you can tell me why Glenn isn’t under arrest?”
Her question was one I’d asked myself. “The police need some solid evidence. Forensics didn’t uncover much, I heard.”
“Weren’t there cameras in the parking lot?” Her voice sounded exasperated.
This time Mari answered. “The only one working was right at the front entrance, and those images came out blurry.”
“Did you know he threatened to kill her before—and kill her cat? I know because Glenn called Sookie while we were working. I heard him. She put him on speakerphone.”
That didn’t surprise me, given his previous violent outbursts. “Has anyone reported this to the police?”
Ashley became visibly upset. “As soon as they found Sookie’s body I called the department. Someone took down my statement, and I haven’t heard anything since.” Worried by the tone of their owner’s voice, the dogs rallied around her.
Mari stretched out her hand and patted Ashley’s arm. “You’ve done all you could. I’m sure law enforcement is doing their part.”
Ashley’s eyes blazed. “Well, they better hurry up. Elaine told me today she’s afraid he’s going to kill her next.”
An uneasy feeling overwhelmed me after we said goodbye to Ashley. Mari sat next to me in the truck, uncharacteristically subdued. The real threat of more violence both disturbed and frustrated me. What steps had the police made to stop it?
“Look.” Mari pointed toward the pasture.
Lobo the mustang stood at the fence accompanied by Sweet Pea, his best horse buddy. I suspected he recognized the sight and sound of our truck. For the formerly aloof gelding to approach on his own was a huge leap of faith.
“I’ll be right back,” I told my assistant, checking to make sure there were some apple treats in my coat pocket.
Speaking softly, I moved toward the fence, apple treat in the palm of my hand. Sweet Pea whinnied a welcome, while Lobo shifted his feet.
I scratched their long noses as the two nibbled the treats from my fingers. Voluntarily waiting at the fence for me showed enormous progress toward trusting humans for the formerly wild mustang. Lobo was settling in.
Progress often felt like one step forward and two steps back, I thought. Maybe it was time to change that choreography.
Daylight was fading when we finished up and Cindy and Mari left the office. Frustrated and not wanting to sit alone in the apartment, I went into town to do some shopping, but mostly to get out of the house. The wind began to blow strong gusts against the truck. With each impact I felt the wheels slip a little. I decided I wasn’t in the mood to fight with Mother Nature. Instead, I turned into an empty parking space near Judy’s Café. An early dinner of soup and some date nut bread sounded perfect. Maybe buy something for tomorrow’s lunch. I hoped the weather would ease up by the time I finished.
As soon as I stepped out of the truck the wind slammed into me. I yanked at my hood, clutching it with one hand, and lowered my head to keep the wind out of my eyes. My destination wasn’t too far away. The snow swirled up against the storefronts as I reached for the café door.
Someone else reached out at the same time, pulling the door open for me.
“Thanks,” I muttered, my hood half over my eyes.
“Kate?” a voice from behind me said. “Is that you?”
Once I got my bearings, I turned toward the familiar voice. “Colin?”
