Hounds Abound (7 page)

Soon it was time to move on. I introduced Bella to other dogs, most of whom were fairly new since we were fortunate enough to find homes quickly for a lot of our residents. I took her into the building on the right, at the center of this row of kennels, to show her the new kitchen and the upstairs had been converted into an apartment for the security person who slept here overnight. “Hint, hint,” I told her. “You should have someone like that.”

“I do,” she said dryly. “Only, it’s me.”

I shook my head and led Zoey and her back down the stairway. I gave her a tour of the rest of this kennel area, pointed out our storage building at the rear, which held our laundry facilities, then around the back pathway onto the new property. I showed her the newest kennels and the large building that now contained upstairs offices for Dr. Mona and our part-time dog trainer, Gavin Mamo. Downstairs was a second kitchen and areas to house small animals like rabbits and guinea pigs, although we didn’t have any right now. One part was designed to hold puppies and some of our tiniest dogs. Plus, this was where our groom room was—the area where our new on-staff groomer Margoworked.

As we walked around, I introduced Bella to our staff and volunteers. Quite a few were around that day, caring for and socializing our residents. We passed Nina as she hurried back toward the greeting area, and she seemed delighted to meet Bella.

I also pointed out to Bella our new cat house as well as the latest quarantine building on the new property. We kept all animals there for at least a couple of weeks when they first arrived at HotRescues, as well as any ill creatures who needed to get well before going back into the general population.

“It’s wonderful!” Bella kept exclaiming, which I thought was sweet. Of course it
was
wonderful. I had helped in the original design, as well as the current one. It all worked well.

But Save’Em was wonderful, too.

Our tour ended when Nina came to get me. “Our first prospective adopters of the day are here,” she said.

I hurried toward the welcome area with Bella and Zoey, greeted the people who waited for me, and told them I’d be right with them. Then I walked Bella to her car. “I’m just so happy that I got a chance to see HotRescues,” she said as she slipped inside. “Of course you know I’m jealous.”

“Why?” I blurted. “Save’Em is state-of-the art, too. It’s fantastic.”

“But more of your residents are likely to find great forever homes,” she reminded me. “I’ll make my residents’ lives as happy as possible even if they stay with us, but still—”

Her cell phone rang, and she pulled it out of her pocket—and frowned. “Damn him,” she whispered. I immediately knew who it was.

“You don’t have to answer,” I said. “Let it go into your voice mail.”

“He’ll only call again. And again.” But she did as I suggested.

“And remember that you can’t talk on your cell while driving,” I told her.

“Yes, Mom.” She laughed despite the strained expression on her pretty face. “See you soon, I hope.”

“Definitely.”

But if I’d known at the time the circumstances under which I’d next see Bella, I might not have spoken so quickly.

That afternoon, I checked my e-mail while grabbing a quick sandwich that Nina had brought in for me—trying not to give Zoey pieces despite her adorable begging stare.

A message from Carlie was there, and I opened it first. She had attached a link to a promo she had filmed for her upcoming TV show that would feature Save’Em. I immediately clicked on it.

Her clip was fantastic! It made clear that, on her show, Carlie would counter the nonsense from Dr. Drammon’s interview about how older or disabled pets shouldn’t be allowed to live, that all of them should be assumed to be suffering. Since segments of that interview were still being aired on TV, this promotion was even more necessary.

“As with everything else,” Carlie said to the camera, “every situation should be judged individually—and my opinion about Save Them All Sanctuary, and how it treats its special-needs residents, is all good. Tune in to my upcoming show, ‘Hug’Em at Save’Em.’”

I called her, and she answered right away. “What a great way of contradicting that nasty S.O.B who’d have closed Save’Em’s doors and killed all its residents,” I said. “When will this spot air? Everyone who loves animals and doesn’t want to see them die will watch your show.”

“I always like to jump in and use any advance publicity,” Carlie said. “I decided to take advantage of Drammon’s ridiculous interview by shoving it back into his face even before people can watch my show. This spot should start airing soon—and frequently, at least on the Longevity Vision Channel and some of its affiliates.”

“Well, hugs to
Pet Fitness
and to you, too.” I smiled as I hung up.

Later, I smiled again. The other set of eager adopters visited HotRescues—two African American parents with
their son, age ten, and daughter, age fifteen. They were interested in a year-old standard Schnauzer mix.

I was always careful when a family with young kids wanted a puppy. I sometimes didn’t approve the placement. Too much attention might be required by both—and they might even hurt one another. But both these kids, and the dog, were old enough to constitute a potential good fit.

We sat outside in the park area with the Schnauzer, whom we called Gervis. Of course they would be able to change the name if the adoption worked. I hadn’t yet visited their home, although they had brought pictures. It appeared to be large and well decorated, with a substantial backyard.

One of the photos of the yard showed a doghouse, which waved a proverbial red flag at me.

I checked their application again. “So you did have a dog before?” I asked the mother. “Another medium-sized one?”

“That’s right,” she said. “We lost poor Roselle a few months ago. Old age.”

“Did Roselle sleep outside?”

The teenage daughter was the one to answer, her tone accusatory, which I didn’t like. “I know why you asked that. It’s because of your rules. You won’t let anyone take a dog if it’ll be outside a lot by itself.”

“That’s one reason, yes.” I regarded her calmly, and her belligerent expression softened.

“We’ll keep Gervis inside always, I promise, except when he needs to go potty. Or when we’re walking him. Or when he just wants to play there. That’s the way things
were with Roselle, honest.” She sounded almost ready to cry.

I aimed my gaze first at her, and then at the rest of her family. All except her brother, who was on the ground roughhousing gently—yes, an oxymoron—with Gervis. The pup was clearly loving it. “That sounds good,” I said noncommittally.

The mother nodded. “It’s true. Your application says we’d need to allow you to come for visits. You can check our home out first if you’d like, or come anytime.” She aimed a gentle smile at her widely grinning son. “I think Darian has already adopted Gervis. With your okay, of course.”

“The indoor-outdoor question was nearly my final concern.” My turn to smile. “One more, though. Where will Gervis sleep?”

“My room,” Darian said immediately.

“Or mine,” his older sister contradicted. “We’ll let him choose.”

“I will want to visit now and then, at least at first.” I directed this to the parents. “But although I want to go over a few more things with you, I think Gervis has found a new home.”

I was beaming for the rest of the afternoon. When I received a call from Matt asking to join me for dinner, I felt as if I were walking on air.

Two potential adoptions that worked out in one day. Sure, I’ve even had three now and then. But as few as one felt wonderful when I believed I’d helped another pet find love forever. Two made me euphoric.

Even Nina commented on how happy I looked as I watched the family leave together, including Gervis. “Pretty proud of yourself, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” I said simply.

She rose from behind the welcome counter and gave me a hug. “You should be.”

I walked around HotRescues after entering what I needed to about the adoptions into our computer system. Zoey came along. The staff and volunteers I ran into apparently found my smile contagious—much better than when I’d walked around in a snit.

“Another one adopted?” Bev walked up with Dodi on a leash. Dodi, a sheltie mix, had been at HotRescues for a few months now. She was a sweetie, but the right people hadn’t come to look at her yet. Bev was taking her for a final walk of the day on the street outside.

I nodded at the question, and Bev slapped me on the back with as much energy as someone half her age. “You go, girl!”

I laughed.

Our final walk through HotRescues took half an hour. It was past visiting hours—at least for potential adopters—when I returned to my office. Matt was there, though. Nina had let him in before leaving to volunteer at a city shelter that evening.

“Hi,” he said to Zoey first as he stooped to pet her. I knew there was a reason I liked this Animal Services officer. Then he rose and looked down into my eyes with his sparkling brown ones. I stretched up to meet his kiss.

“Have you been running?” I asked. His body had always seemed toned, but, though I might be imagining it, he felt
even more muscular now—and we’d only seen each other a few days ago.

“Sure have. You?”

I nodded.

We decided on a restaurant for dinner that wasn’t far from my home so I could drop Zoey off first. He had left Rex at his place, so it would just be us this evening.

Dinner was good. Conversation was better, at least until we squabbled amiably over the check. I thought I’d won the right to treat until my BlackBerry rang. I checked it. Bella.

It was fairly late by then, and I was curious so I answered.

“I think you were right, Lauren.” She sounded breathless.

“About what?”

“Needing better security. Someone’s here, I think. I hear noises, and Sammy keeps pacing and barking.”

“Have you called the police?” I knew my alarm sounded in my voice. Matt, who had handed his credit card to our server, looked at me in concern.

“Well, no. I might be imagining—”

“Assume you’re not. Better to be safe than—”

“Sorry. Yes, I know. But with the bad publicity Save’Em already had after Vic Drammon was interviewed on TV, I’ll take my chances. I shouldn’t have called you. I was hoping you’d come, but that was stupid. Just in case there is someone here, you’d be in danger, too. I’ll talk to you tomorrow. Sorry.” She ended the call.

I couldn’t believe how frustrated I felt—and how absurd I thought her attitude. I explained the situation to Matt.

“Let’s go there and find out,” he said, making me want to hug him all over again.

L.A. Animal Services officers were sometimes permitted to carry weapons, in case they had to put down a suffering animal. I knew Matt locked a gun in his car, and he had driven us here.

He drove us to Save’Em. I called Bella and told her we were coming. Despite her protestations, she sounded relieved.

I showed Matt where to turn so he could park in the back near Bella’s house.

“Well, hell,” I said as he pulled into the parking lot. A car was already there. A familiar car.

Miles.

I told Matt why I recognized it, including the confrontation I’d had with Bella’s ex yesterday.

“No wonder she heard things. The jerk is stalking her, trying to scare her while he fights her for the money she’s entitled to. I’m ready to scare him right back. Could I hold your gun?”

Matt’s laugh was grim. “Let me,” he said.

I didn’t really anticipate we’d find Miles just sitting there, though. If Bella and Sammy had heard noises, it was likely that he’d sneaked onto the grounds to scare her—or worse. Even so, I slowly approached the car to rule out his presence, leaving Matt to extract his weapon.

The lights in the parking lot were dim, but as I got near the car I saw a figure in the driver’s seat. “He’s here,” I called to Matt, and I stepped up my pace.

When I got to the door, I reached out, ready to pound on
the window since the creep didn’t even look in my direction. He was staring straight ahead, through the windshield, toward the nearest part of the shadowed wooden fence.

Only … he wasn’t moving at all. A chill crept through me. Instead of pounding on the window, I rapped gently.

He still didn’t move.

Trembling, I shifted so I could see him better in the faint illumination—and saw exactly what I’d been afraid of. A dead man.

A knife was sticking out of Miles’s chest, and there was blood all around.

I called 911 right away as Matt nodded his agreement. He used a handkerchief to open the car door and reached in to touch Miles’s throat. Judging by the grim set of Matt’s mouth, I knew he didn’t feel a pulse.

I called Bella next and told her to come out to the parking lot because there was something she needed to see. I didn’t explain why.

Matt’s scowling opinion was a lot iffier about that.

“I need to see her reaction. I am sure she didn’t do this. She couldn’t have,” I told him. We both moved away from Miles’s car. I knew Matt was watching the shadows. Listening. So was I, wishing I shared a dog’s keen sense of hearing.