A Little Christmas Jingle (6 page)

Jack shifted uncomfortably. “No. I …”

“Hey guys.” This time Anthony poked his head in. “Sorry to interrupt. Busy schedule today.”

“No problem. We are finished,” Kat said. She willed her anger not to show as all the ease of lunch disappeared.

She and Jack went out into the waiting area, where the cameraman had everything set up. She put the mic on, this time by herself.

“So Dr. Saunders,” Anthony asked. “How's Jingle?”

Kat went through the basics, including telling him that the front desk had already fielded calls from people wanting to adopt him. “We're keeping a list while trying to refer them to our other animals and other shelters,” Kat said.

“People only want what they see on TV.” Jack's cynicism came through loud and clear.

“You aren't going to run that, are you?” Kat asked.

“Not miked, and Anthony wouldn't do that,” Jack replied.

Anthony shook his head. “Nah, people want a feel-good story. Like, Kat, my research showed you found homes for about two hundred animals over the last twelve months.”

A sinking feeling formed in Kat's stomach. Jack listened avidly. “Yes. I screen every adopter myself.”

Anthony tilted his head. “That's great. Two hundred animals?”

“Yes.” She was proud of this accomplishment. “It's our best year yet and we still have our upcoming December adopt-a-thon. The holidays are such a great time for pet adoptions.”

She saw Jack's frown. “What? You don't like those either?”

“I'm not a big fan of the over-commercialized Christmas industry, no. And I worry about people who give pets at Christmas. Do you know how many pet-store pets end up in shelters?”

Anthony's head pivoted back and forth.

“Well, I am much more successful. And surely you love Christmas. It's the best time of the year. The caroling. The parties. The visiting with old friends.”

He didn't speak for a minute. “I don't hate it.”

“Guys, we need to get back on track. I have a deadline.”

Kat couldn't understand how anyone could have so little Christmas spirit. “Did you have a bad childhood experience? My cousin's husband's parents were divorced, so he got passed around from family to family, so until he had his own kids he wasn't a fan.”

“My mom and stepdad have been married almost twenty years. Christmas Day we eat brunch at twelve thirty like we always do, although now we do a Rob Your Neighbor game. As for my dad, he's living in Tampa and has been for years. So, really it's nothing like what you mentioned.”

“This has nothing to do with Jingle,” Anthony interjected hopefully.

“Sorry,” Kat replied, glad her waiting room was currently empty. “I just want to know the answer.”

“It's complicated,” Jack replied. “And really—”

“Try me,” she suggested.

“Please,” Anthony begged. “I'm on deadline.”

“That man needs his story,” Jack replied, evading Kat's need to know.

She shoved her hands into her pockets, obviously irritated. “Fine.”

Jack watched as Kat began the interview, glad he'd been given a reprieve from explaining feelings that—to any lover of Christmas—made him seem freakish. He had good reasons, but like a chocolate-lover not understanding how anyone could choose vanilla, his choices were beyond a Christmas lover's comprehension.

“So could you tell us how rescuing Jingle might impact your legal troubles?” Anthony suddenly asked. “Do you think you'll lose the fight?”

As Kat sputtered, Jack winced. Since yesterday, he'd researched her legal issues thoroughly. Since no abuse had been cited in the original complaint, he hadn't been called in—the city saw this as first and foremost a zoning issue. The letter addressed directly to him had changed things.

“You're running a rescue shelter without the necessary occupancy permits,” Anthony continued. “Can you comment on this?”

Kat fought to remain calm. “The clinic where Jingle is being treated has all the required licensure and permits. Jingle is getting the best care and at no cost to the city, as I am underwriting all expenses as part of my partnership with the Animal Cruelty Task Force. I consider it an honor to be Jingle's vet.”

“But what about the neighbors who've complained? And some say they've seen your shelter and you have dogs covered in their own feces.”

Anthony had clearly been reading the comments following the news article. Family members of the neighbors who'd filed the complaints had written most of the vitriol.

“Those claims are groundless and have no basis in fact,” Kat bit out, willing her voice to remain neutral.

“So …” Anthony probed.

“My lawyer has told me not to comment.”

“Maybe you should,” Jack said, stepping forward.

She shot him an angry glance.

“Here you have Anthony, who always tells a fair story, giving you the chance to set the record straight. And I'm here, and after the letter I received, I wanted to see your shelter for myself.” He held out a piece of paper.

She'd let her guard down. Her impulsivity had cost her again. “You want to close me down,” she accused.

“No. I have not reached a conclusion. I'm a fair man.”

“He is.” Anthony reached for the paper, but Jack put it in his pocket. “If you have nothing to hide—”

“Fine,” Kat cut in, desperate to regain control of a situation fast spiraling out from under her.

“So we can have a tour?” Anthony prodded.

“Might get people in the door to adopt,” Jack added. “And put this complaint to rest.” He waved the paper again.

“I have nothing to be ashamed of.” Cornered, she glanced at her watch. “But I only have twenty minutes before my next patient.”

Anthony, now that he had his exclusive, went to speak with his cameraman.

“I can't believe this.” Kat turned her anger on Jack. “You set me up.” She snatched the letter from his hand.

“I meant to ask you last night, but it was late. The only reason I didn't insist yesterday is that Jeff approved you and I trust him. Kat, you have the most high-profile dog in the city. And if dogs are standing in their own waste, then I want to see it for myself.”

That hurt. “Do you really believe that of me?”

He shook his head. “No. But put my mind at ease anyway.”

Which meant he doubted.
So much for their earlier connection.

“We ready?” Anthony nudged, returning.

Kat led them to another part of the clinic. “We have a series of luxury boarding suites.” She pointed to a series of mini rooms. “Here people can board their dogs or cats and choose the level of playtime, amount of grooming, and whether they want remote video access via the web.” They crossed into another portion of the building. “This area is for our stray guests.”

Immediately behind the door, the noise of barking dogs became extremely loud. Kat had twenty indoor kennels, each separated by chain link. The facility looked like most other pet shelters, and Jack noted the floors and kennels were extremely clean. “This door leads outside and we let them run in the yard. We also do leash training and take them on walks.” Kat opened the door to a side yard, which was more than adequate space. “The dogs are always supervised.”

She led them back inside and downstairs to a basement with ten-foot-high ceilings. “This is our cat facility.” A few cats lounged by themselves in large cages with plenty of space; others lived together in a community room. The lighting and ventilation were more than adequate.

“Jack?” Anthony asked. He shoved a handheld mic under Jack's nose.

“I don't see any animal abuse or any unhealthy animals or an unsanitary environment,” Jack answered honestly.

“As the detective who's cited several puppy mills for their poor conditions, you'd know bad facilities when you saw them.”

“Yes, I would. At this time, Dr. Saunders's facility exceeds the requirements for a shelter. As for her occupancy permits, that's not my department and I can't address it.”

“But do you think she should be able to keep her shelter?”

“I am always an advocate of animal adoptions,” Jack replied, skirting the question with diplomatic aplomb. He handed the mic back.

“Well, I appreciate this,” Anthony said. “I'll let you know if I have questions.”

Kat tossed the letter on her desk and dropped into her chair the moment the news crew left. Jack remained standing, and Crystal came to weave herself between his legs. She trembled. “What a mess. A complete mess.”

“I didn't lie,” Jack told her. “I never lie. If you'd had any animal in distress, I'd be back in five minutes to take them away and shut you down.”

“I know.” She glanced at her watch. Six minutes before her next client. She prided herself on being on time. “I screwed up and it's biting me. I forgot to get the permits. It started out as one stray dog that my vet tech found. Then once I remodeled the clinic, I had more space and someone else brought me another. Then another. Next thing you know, I'm running an unofficial shelter and I'm in violation of zoning, and now I'm embroiled in a mess and headed to court. You forcing that tour put me in an awkward spot.”

“I read the
Post-Dispatch
article. You need to clear the air and the minds of the city. You need good PR. The story can do that. It will stop this,” he said holding up the letter.

She chewed her lower lip. “What if Anthony's story makes everything worse? My lawyer said—”

“My brother's a lawyer. They're always saying something.”

“Yes but—”

“Worse would be that we have to relocate Jingle to another vet.” He let that hang out there and then said gently, “Kat, your heart was in the right place when you started your shelter. You do everything in your power to save animals, including sleeping at your clinic. Those animals looked well cared for. I said that on camera, and it's the truth. But know that I will not let anything blemish the task force.”

“Then you might have made the wrong choice with me. Especially depending on the comments that get posted after the news broadcast.”

He shrugged. “You never know. Could be nothing.”

She put her head in her hands. “I wish you hadn't put me on the spot. If this ruins my chances for my adoption event, I don't know what I'll do. What if the city shuts that down, too? How will I find my animals homes then?”

“Christmas adoptions are never a good idea. Just look at Jingle.”

Her head shot up and her chest heaved. “You're wrong. Many loving families adopt animals at Christmas, and my animals deserve that chance. Pet Rescue is full, as are most no-kill shelters. I will not have my animals end up in a kill shelter. If this gets screwed up, you'll need to help me fix it.” Her watch beeped. She could not keep her patients waiting. “I have to go.”

“I'll stop by after closing. See how Jingle's doing. We can talk then. Discuss any fallout.”

Overwhelmed, she rose to her feet. “I don't know if that's a good idea. I can keep you up-to-date over the phone. You've already done more than enough, and I probably shouldn't speak to you again without talking to my lawyer.” She remembered her manners. “Thank you for lunch.”

Jack towered over her. He cupped her chin, and awareness burned through her. Determined and slightly irritated blue eyes locked onto hers. “We're not finished, Kat. Not by a long shot. I will see you after work.”

That afternoon, Kat kept busy with back-to-back patients. She performed several routine physicals, saw one dog who'd chewed up a sneaker, and treated a cat that had an infection and needed an antibiotic shot and a special diet. During her appointments she'd fought to keep her mind from churning. Worry frayed her nerves, and her lawyer's $250 phone call hadn't helped either. She'd just reiterated that Kat needed to keep a low profile.

Kat changed Jingle's dressings, checked his wounds for infection, and monitored his vitals. “So how was lunch with Mr. December?” Angela asked.

“Jack,” Kat corrected. She and Angela had worked together for three years now, and Angela's brows lifted at the correction.

“That sounds pretty friendly.”

Kat ran her fingers through her hair, a nervous habit. “We aren't friendly. He showed up here with a complaint letter. He came to investigate me, and the interview probably ruined my chances with the city.”

“So, make him fix it. Have Jack help you with the adoption event. He said he's a fair guy. Make him prove it.”

“What are you suggesting?”

Angela shrugged. “Louise and I talked. He's a local celebrity. A press magnet. People will come here just to meet him, and after they do, maybe they'll go home with a new pet.”

“Doesn't that prove his point?” Kat asked. “That people are fickle?”

“Ignore his Scrooge tendencies. Demand he help. He can sign some autographs or whatever. We get more people here, then we get more animals adopted. Claire will have the photos ready Monday, and we can start the heavy-duty PR.”

Kat's clinic posted cute pictures of adoptable animals on its web site, which always helped with finding pets new homes. They'd hang up flyers on the public supermarket boards and advertise via Facebook and Petfinder.com. “Even with all that we do, we need press. We need to capitalize on Jingle and Jack,” Angela insisted.

“I'm not sure involving either of them is a good idea. Probably a conflict of interest. Jack's not really thrilled with his fame.”

Although a few years younger than Kat, Angela suddenly sounded far wiser. “Who cares? He allowed Anthony to come in here, which put you in a bind. So he should help you out. What can it hurt to ask him?”

“He hates Christmastime adoptions. He's going to say no. And the city can and perhaps will shut down my event saying it's also unsanctioned.”