The More the Terrier (25 page)

“It sounds great to me!” Davie turned back to me and rushed forward, giving me a hug. “I don’t see a lot of stray animals in the park, but the ones that are . . . well, I worry about them.”

It wasn’t exactly an admission, but it was close enough. “We all do,” I said. “That’s one reason we need to follow the rules. Even if they don’t have a collar or chip, they might have worried owners who won’t know where to look for them if they’re not in the official system. That’s why it’s usually best to take them to Animal Services . . . and then we’ll take them in if they’re not found or rehomed from there. If not us, I’ve got a lot of friends and acquaintances who are rescuers that I can get in touch with.” Even members of Pet Shelters Together.

We went back inside. It was nearly time. I walked them onto the back property, where the crowd had gathered. I stayed on the ground this time, although I figured I could have given the SmART members competition if I’d decided to do my own zip run down their lines again . . . not.

My zipping days were over.

Matt was already there. He stood with Dante and his girlfriend, Kendra Ballantyne, a lawyer and pet-sitter who had been involved in some dangerous situations of her own. She had brought her dog, Lexie, a tricolor Cavalier King Charles spaniel. The three of them hurried over.

“Glad to see you’re okay, Lauren,” Kendra said. Lexie sat down and panted a tongue-hanging smile.

“Same here.” Dante took my hand and squeezed it before letting go. “But next time you want to encourage a crowd to show up at one of our fund-raisers, how about finding a safer way?”

We all laughed, and Matt again put an arm around me.

Carlie arrived with a camera crew. I went to greet them near the gate to the new property and gave her my version of what had happened here the night before.

“Are you okay?” she asked, studying me. I assured her I was. “Can I interview you on camera?” My baleful look was my answer. “Okay, another time. Right now, I’ve got the SmART demo to film.”

I used that as my excuse to return to Dante. “So what’s our estimated take?” I asked him. Each person here was to donate at least a few dollars to get in, and judging by the crowd around us, we’d gotten a bundle.

“A lot,” he said. “And I intend to triple it—in addition to what’s needed to finish up this new area.” He waved toward the building and the areas around us where new enclosures would be set up for rescued pets. “Some will go to SmART for more equipment, including a replacement rope. As we already discussed, you can help me figure out what other good causes the rest will go for. Mostly, I just wanted to make certain that the community sees HotRescues and all the good you do here.”

“Like zipping down buildings in the interest of saving animals,” I said with a smile.

“Like that,” he agreed.

But it wasn’t me who zipped just then. Renz was the first SmART team member to come down the line to rescue MARTE, their stuffed animal.

“That’s amazing,” said a high voice behind me. I turned. Mamie stood there, her red curls looking freshly washed and her black shirtwaist dress immaculate. I hadn’t seen her arrive.

“It sure is,” Dante said. “Welcome, Mamie.”

I introduced her to Kendra, Matt, and the other HotRescues folks who stood around us.

“I walked through the shelter to get back here, Lauren,” she said. “It really is wonderful. I even saw Herman in one of the enclosures. I reached in and petted him but wanted to hug him. I miss him so much. I . . . I’m really sorry for what I did. I know I said I’d come here more, but I’ve been so sad . . . Can I start volunteering here now?”

I knew she wanted to reclaim Herman, too, but I’d get Mona’s psychological take on it first, and Matt’s official one, too.

I glanced toward Dante. This was something we’d discussed. He knew how concerned I was about her living alone—especially in the place where she’d started hoarding before. She seemed to have improved, but without counseling, who knew if it was permanent?

Besides, I might have saved her from a murder rap, but I still felt responsible for her. I’d hated to acknowledge it to myself, but after all that had gone on around here, I’d let myself recognize it. A little. Not that I’d ever admit it to anyone else. But sometime after Mamie drew me into the situation, I’d started feeling a touch guilty for being part of the event that was the last straw in her difficult and lonely life, the thing that had plunged her into hoarding along with her marital woes. Not that she should have been chosen to run HotRescues. But now, I didn’t want to just turn my back on her again, no matter what.

“If you’re willing to move to an apartment complex for seniors near here,” I said, “I think volunteering often at HotRescues will work out well.” I’d checked out the assisted living complex. It was one where pets were restricted to one per person, and the residents were supervised. Plus, social workers were on call.

Dante and his employees would help Mamie sell her property, if she wanted, and the funds would go toward her living expenses. Dante would pick up the rest.

“Leave my home?” she squeaked.

“If you’re not living there,” Matt said, “but at the place Lauren has in mind, there’s more of a possibility that we can get the okay for you to take Herman back—someday.”

My former mentor threw herself into Matt’s arms. Good thing she was small, since she nearly knocked him off balance. “Oh, that’s so wonderful!” she exclaimed. “When can I move?”

“We’ll get you a place right away,” Dante said. Even if there wasn’t space, I knew that he’d find a way to do it. His degree of wealth convinced anyone of anything . . . fast.

“We’re having a class for volunteers here starting on Saturday.” If Mamie was to volunteer here, she’d need to participate in a class. Our insurance required it.

“Of course.” She hesitated. “Maybe someday I can even teach some of your classes.”

“You’ve certainly got the pet rescue background for it,” I agreed. As long as she didn’t suggest taking in more animals than could be safely handled and fed. And of course I’d be sure she didn’t. I would monitor everything she did.

Another SmART team member traversed the line from top to bottom, and we all watched. I reveled in the way the crowd oohed and aahed. I even saw, at the other side, that Detective Greshlam had in fact made it back for the demonstration—even though I doubted it was as unusual an event for a member of the police department. Maybe she had something to tell me about the saga of Lan’s arrest or Darya’s incarceration for Bethany’s murder. I’d ask her later.

For now, I drew closer to Matt, put my arm around him, and watched as one of the teams that reported to him continued to awe the visitors to HotRescues, and me, too—even as my mind veered off toward the additional animals we were about to take in.

We’d soon have room. I’d make certain it all worked out.

I smiled and looked on at the happy scene surrounding me.

Click here for more books by this author

Berkley Prime Crime titles by Linda O. Johnston

Kendra Ballantyne, Pet-Sitter Mysteries

SIT, STAY, SLAY
NOTHING TO FEAR BUT FERRETS
FINE-FEATHERED DEATH
MEOW IS FOR MURDER
THE FRIGHT OF THE IGUANA
DOUBLE DOG DARE
NEVER SAY STY
HOWL DEADLY
FELINE FATALE

Pet Rescue Mysteries

BEAGLEMANIA
THE MORE THE TERRIER