In Your Arms: A Small Town Love Story (Safe Haven Book 1) (2 page)

M
arlo’s night on an airbed
, in the kennel with Justice, had been futile. He remained a lump in the corner, never once seeking any connection with her.

Unable to sleep, she had moved Justice from her mind and Adam slid right in. Adam the distraction…if she’d asked him to spend the night in the kennel with Justice, he might have accepted her offer to find him a different group of dogs to work with. She’d missed her chance, so now she had two males causing trouble.

At dawn she crouched near Justice, speaking gently. She encouraged him to stand, but he just stared at a space over her right shoulder. “You need to pee, Justice.” The blank stare never wavered.

“Around here we have a routine. In the morning, you go outside for your toilet then you come back in for breakfast. Let me show you.” She bent down, ran her hands along his body then slid them beneath him to help him up, but he either wouldn’t or couldn’t support himself. When she released him, he simply crumpled back to the bedding. Except now he added full body trembling to the picture of misery.

“Oh, hell, buddy.” Marlo reached under and picked him up again to carry him to the grass area. His loose skin slid over his bones, and he was way too light, but that wasn’t her immediate concern. Justice became stiff when she’d lifted him. She stood, cradling him, speaking softly, waiting for him to relax and nestle against her body the way the dogs usually did. Instead he faced away with his eyes closed, and somehow managed to angle himself off her body, so that they had as little physical contact as possible.

“Dude, you need to relax,” she whispered as she carried him to the grass and lowered him to the ground. Justice didn’t sniff or cock his leg; he simply squatted and peed where she had placed him. When he’d finished, he crouched low and crawled a few feet away, to lie on the grass. And stare at nothing.

Marlo’s teeth clenched and she closed her eyes for a couple of beats to damp down the despair that was starting to build. They’d delivered her a dog, but his spirit had been lost in transit.

T
he sunrise had begun
to illuminate Halo Peak as she headed up the path to her house. The walk only took a few minutes, but it would stretch her limbs, which were stiff from the night spent in the kennel. Even in the fresh morning light, Adam hovered like meadow mist in the forefront of her mind.

Fala, her elderly dog, greeted her at the door. “You’ve just got up, you lucky old thing,” she murmured, giving Fala’s head and neck a good scratch. “Did you miss me through the night? Did you even wake?”

They had met as runaways when they’d both needed rescuing nine years ago and their bond remained unbreakable. She crouched and gave the old girl a kiss on the top of her head. “I know you’re supposed to be retired, but I’m hoping you’re up for one more job. We’ve a sad boy down in quarantine, and I think he needs your help.”

Fala wagged her tail and made an arthritic lunge for Marlo’s chin to cover it with kisses.

“That, I take it, would be a yes?”

After feeding Fala, she collected a bowl of food and returned to Justice’s enclosure. He was still out on the grass in a patch of sunlight where she had carried him earlier. After placing the bowl of food by his head, she sank down beside him. Marlo couldn’t name one dog at the Sanctuary that was able to resist roast chicken, but when she held a piece near Justice’s nose, he continued to stare vacantly beyond her.

Her eyes burned. Usually she was a master at holding things together, hiding her emotions, but this closed-off dog was getting to her. She reached to rub his face, noticing the thick scarring of old injuries and the puckered pink of fresh wounds. As her fingers touched him, he trembled. “If you won’t eat in front of me, I’ll leave the food in your kennel. When you’re hungry, you can go back inside and eat it.”

Back in her office, she phoned Mae. If anyone in the CRAR organization could help her, her former guardian would be top of the list.

“How’s your new boarder?”

“He’s a mess. The worst I’ve had through the Sanctuary. He has the animation of a pancake. A really sad pancake, if that’s possible.”

Mae seemed to consider this before continuing. “He was scheduled to be euthanized. What do you think?”

Marlo pictured the scrap of a dog with the vacant stare and knew in her heart that he deserved some joy on this earth. Somebody had to make it up to him. “I think they were wrong. Maybe they believe he’s too far gone, but there’s always a way in. It’s up to me to locate the key.”

“Well, you’ll be the one to find it, girl.”

“I hope so.” Marlo paused. “Something else I’d like to ask you.”

“Go on.”

“Justice had an escort last night.”

“So, you’ve met the Kiwi? Isn’t he divine?”

“He’s a New Zealander? Okay. Yes, he’s all right, I suppose. I didn’t take much notice of him, really.” How easily that little lie slipped out
.
She couldn’t recall ever noticing
a man the way she’d noticed Adam. “He’s coming back again today.”

“Is that a problem?”

Marlo sighed. “It’s a distraction.”

“I can imagine.” Mae laughed. “It’s not how this was planned, but planning went into flames with the accidental euthanasia of all those Richmond dogs. Adam is investigating the feasibility of setting up a specialized unit to combat dog fighting in the Asia/Pacific region. An organization called APAW, Asia Pacific Animal Welfare, contracted him to come over and study what we do in the U.S. He’ll be shadowing a few groups, looking at everything from initial intelligence gathering to raids, rehabilitation for the dogs, prosecution—the entire process.

“He can tell you more about it. You can imagine the thirty-two dogs rescued from Richmond were shaping to be the ideal project for him. Now there’s only one dog, and you on the rehab side of things, so you get Adam to yourself!”

Marlo sighed. “You know I like to work alone, Mae.”

“Well, unfortunately, the dog and Adam are a package. We have no say in the matter. If you’re not comfortable, I can move Assassin to another facility.”

“No. No, he stays with me. I renamed him Justice, and I’ve made him a promise. It’s okay; I’ll handle working with Adam.” She knew the despair of broken promises, and she wouldn’t make a promise herself unless she was confident she could keep it.

“So you’ve renamed him; that’s my girl! Justice is a fine name. I’m sure we’ll get him the justice he deserves.”

Marlo could hear the warmth in Mae’s voice. In a sense, she was Mae’s girl. Mae had no kids of her own and had taken her in nine years earlier. Marlo’s own mother had been close to useless when she was alive. She had brought home a collection of faceless, deadbeat men—and Marlo still had no clue about the identity of her real father. Mae had picked her up as a runaway, ensured she finished her schooling, and helped her through her Applied Animal Behavior degree. Now, she basked a little in the blanket of care that the love in Mae’s voice wrapped around her, allowing herself to relax and release the increasing worry for a moment.

Digging deep, she could find that inner child aged four or five, sitting on the kitchen counter while her mother made them dinner. In those days, singing show tunes with a four-year-old was the only thing her mother needed to get high. That was before the slide.

A couple of years later she had watched her mom wrestle with her love for her daughter while keeping the interest of her current bad-boyfriend choice. Begging for attention when a boyfriend was around was asking for trouble, and Marlo was a quick learner. In no time, she’d mastered the art of quiet existence.

She pulled herself back to the moment. She might not have wanted the details of Justice’s past but Adam was a whole different issue. “I was wondering…what’s Adam’s background?”

Mae paused before answering. “Adam’s with the police.”

“Oh.”

“He’s on sabbatical, here doing research. Marlo, listen to me?”

Unease made a cold creep through her veins. “Listening.”

“He’s okay. I wouldn’t have let Adam near you if he hadn’t checked out. You’ll be fine.”

Marlo said goodbye and hung up. Maybe Justice could give up some space in his kennel, and they could be pancakes together.

T
hrough the windows
, she saw Lulah coming up the drive on her bike.

A friend and assistant trainer, Lulah was a riot of color that went way beyond high-viz cycling gear as she carried the be-safe-be-seen theme right through to this weeks purple streaks in her hair, the rainbow socks, and an alarmingly bright yellow pair of vintage running shoes. Lulah left the gravel driveway and rode hard to build some speed before she jumped off a small bank and went through an irrigation ditch. Gathering speed again, she jumped a small log and landed in the parking area, all while singing, “Yes, sir, I can boogie” at the top of her voice. She parked her bike and bounced into the office.

“Hey there, boss,” she shouted at Marlo. “How’s the new boy? Is he handsome? Can I see him?”

For a moment, Marlo had forgotten about Justice and wondered how Lulah already knew about Adam. “He’s a…oh, you mean the new dog?”

“Uh, yuh!”

“Sure, we can see him in a bit. He’s having quiet time right now.”

“Shut down?”

“Completely shut down.”

“Angry?”

“Quiet.”

“Oh, the strong and silent type.”

She could have been talking about Adam or Justice.
But Adam was hardly silent.

Both women looked up as they heard a car turn up the driveway, creating a trail of dust in its wake.

“Incoming,” remarked Lulah.

They watched Adam park his car, get out and go to the back seat to delve about.

“Who’s that?”

“I was about to tell you; the new dog came with a personal escort.”

“The new dog’s escort has a nice ass.” Lulah whistled.

“Lulah!”

“What? The guy has a nice ass. Appreciating beauty in physical bodies isn’t the sole domain of construction workers, you know.”

Marlo laughed. “Don’t let him hear you.”

Lulah nudged her. “Like you weren’t looking, boss.”

Adam made his way towards them, covering the ground smoothly with effortless strides. Lulah was right. That man was capable of rattling anything not tied down. Simply looking at him had set off a surge in her chest that never quite settled. She coughed lightly and prepared to introduce him to Lulah.

“Lulah, this is Adam.” She turned to face him. “Ah, I don’t know your last name, and I’m not certain who you work for.” Not entirely true, but she wanted to hear the details from him.

Adam flicked her a quizzical look then turned to Lulah, offering her his hand and startling smile. “Lulah, hi. I’m Adam Guildford, and I’m doing research with a number of agencies regarding dog fighting.”

Lulah grabbed his hand, holding on just a bit too long. “Hi, Adam, I’m Lulah, and I’m weak at the knees. Nice to meet you…and you really rock that accent.”

“And you rock that purple stripe in your hair,” Adam replied, laughing.

Lulah patted her head around the area where the stripe ran. “Oh, this old thing.”

“Lulah takes a couple of dogs for visits to the local old folks’ homes. She thinks a colored stripe through her hair gives her some empathy with the blue-rinse ladies.” Marlo nudged Lulah. “I reckon they think she’s a punk.”

“They think I’m hot. Yesterday, two of the elderly gents asked me on a date.” Lulah nudged her back. “Now, the punk needs to get to work. See you around, big boy,” she called out to Adam as she headed to the barn.

Not for the first time Marlo marveled at the ease and confidence Lulah had around men.

“Cute.” Adam smiled as he turned toward Marlo, indicating with an outstretched arm that they should head to the office.

How did he do that? Take charge on her turf? Such a cop thing. She watched as he settled into the same chair he’d occupied the night before. Marlo took the seat at her desk.

“I think it would be helpful to talk through exactly what it is I’m here to achieve and our expectations of each other.”

Marlo nodded.

“I’m contracted to the Asia Pacific Animal Welfare group to investigate ways to combat dog fighting. APAW has little experience with this, so CRAR has offered a guiding hand.”

“Unfortunately, this is something we have a lot of experience with.”

“It’s fortunate for me.”

Marlo smiled.

Adam continued. “The Asia-Pacific region is massive, peppered with many different cultures. The thinking is to establish a small, specialized unit, like a Flying Squad. When a dog-fighting organization is suspected, the unit assembles and goes in to help the local welfare and law enforcement groups who invariably have no experience with this sort of thing at all.”

“Sort of like a global FBI for dog fighting.”

“Wouldn’t that be cool?” Adam laughed. “This unit would stay with the process right up to prosecution of the dogmen and the rehabilitation of the dogs.”

“Wow, that’s pretty ambitious. Good luck with that,” Marlo offered.

“Thanks, we’re going to need it in buckets.” Adam smiled.

“It’ll be a tough job getting so many different agencies to work together. It’s going to be a battle of the egos. Under whose jurisdiction will your group fall?”

“That will depend who, if anyone, picks up the ongoing funding. The costs of this study are being met by APAW and a government grant, but there’s no commitment for more funds. I’m on sabbatical right now while I work on this. I need to understand the entire process. It may be that someone with your type of expertise is necessary much earlier in the game.”

Marlo straightened. “That would be a paradigm shift.”

“Is that because the authorities involved don’t believe the dogs used for fighting can be rehabilitated?”

A delicate flame of hope ignited inside her. “Exactly. We have to go in and fight for them at the end. It’s so much easier and cheaper to shoot the dog.”

“It’s the same everywhere. I thought the Richmond Thirty-Two was the perfect test situation, but by the time I touched down in the U.S., the euthanasia cock-up had occurred. All we have managed to do is highlight why a coordinating group in our region is necessary. As far as the rehab is concerned, now it’s you and Justice I have to learn from. Tell me where you begin when a dog like Justice arrives.”