Even I can’t handle much more today, though. Why does life have to happen all at once? Can’t the universe spread things out just a little?
“You never got a penny for the bar?”
She rolls her eyes. “No. In fact, we had to pay a bunch of bills long after they shut it down.” She casts her eyes down and plucks at a stray, dry leaf that’s attached to her t-shirt. “Don’t tell Brian I told you, but we had to declare bankruptcy.”
Now it’s my heart that seizes.
“I’m so sorry, Elaine.” My tears pour down, slow and fat. The sorrow inside me is quiet. Steady. I’m not anxious or freaking out. It’s a more mature feeling, one that is deep inside me.
“Oh, honey, you’ve done nothing wrong.” She reaches out and squints up at the sun. “Joe didn’t do anything wrong, either. That damn Landau, though…” A puff of air streams out of her, both fast and slow. “Watch out for him. He’s devious.”
I think of Claudia earlier today, kissing Mark but going off with Eric.
So’s his daughter.
“Did you and Brian have any interactions with him?” I feel weird asking Elaine questions like this. I feel like hugging her and just crying together. Asking questions is important, though. I came back with a purpose. I came back home for justice.
And justice means seeking answers.
“No. Not a word. But he set up Joe and because of that, we lost damn near everything. Brian, Dan and Mikey spent that summer fixing up the cabins and by the skin of our teeth we got enough rental income to make it that first year before the bankruptcy went through. You know how expensive lawyers are?” Her tone of voice goes dark. “We paid for a lot of lawyers to make sure Brian didn’t get dragged into Joe’s mess.”
Joe’s mess.
“And the police wouldn’t even let us set foot in the bar. Not once. All that inventory, all our paperwork, all the business equipment. Brian couldn’t even take the pictures of Mikey and Danny he had at his desk! Just poof. Gone. Erased.”
Erased. Like my dad.
My phone buzzes in my pocket and I bounce up. She gives me a half-grin. “You kids and your phones.” Elaine gives me a shooing gesture, like I should read the text.
Heard you’re in town. Amy gave me your number. Need some puppy love?
The text is from Minnie, the woman who runs the local no-kill animal shelter. Minnie also happens to be Amy’s mother, so I was expecting this text to come some day.
I smile and wave the phone at Elaine. “It’s Minnie.”
“Oh,” Elaine coos, her face softening. “You going down there to hug all the puppies?”
I pause. I started volunteering at the animal shelter when I was eleven. For the past three years the closest I’ve been to a dog is the strays on the streets of OKC I’d sometimes give half a sandwich to. Spending time surrounded by wagging tails and puppy kisses sounds perfect.
“I guess I am,” I tell Elaine, clearing my throat twice to get the words out. With a few taps I tell Minnie I’ll be there after I change out of my work clothes. She replies back with a smiley face.
Elaine stands and gives me a complex look. I see sadness in her eyes. I also see fear. “Make sure you really are careful, Carrie.”
“With the puppies?” I know she doesn’t mean that, but my nerves make me say it anyway.
“With Landau.” She’s dead serious. “There is something close to evil in that man. Stay close to Mark.”
“Mark?” I choke out. Talk about an abrupt change of topic.
Her face goes contemplative. “Yes, Mark. He loves you, and—”
“I caught Mark kissing Claudia at my office today, Elaine.” The words are out before I can stop myself.
“Son of a….” Her voice drops. “What was that man thinking?”
I shrug. Elaine frowns and puts her arm around my shoulders. We both look up as a plane flies by, the kind that carries a banner off its tail. The banner says something about a big festival coming this weekend.
“Really, Carrie? You’re sure he was kissing Claudia Landau?”
All I can do is nod.
“Damn. Danny won’t be happy.”
“Danny? Danny Danny?”
She gives me a rueful smile. “Yep. My Danny. He’s been dying to ask her out forever. If she’s with Mark now…”
“I don’t think she is.”
“But you just said…”
“I walked in on them kissing, but then an old friend of mine, Eric, came in and suddenly Mark said he and I were supposed to play Euchre with you and Brian, and Eric asked Claudia to go into the city and go dancing, and I left.” All my words came out in a jumbled rush.
Elaine halts.
“That’s a lot to take in,” she says dryly.
“No kidding.”
“Bottom line: Mark’s not dating Claudia?”
I throw my hands up in the air. “Heck if I know. He just insisted Eric couldn’t ask me out because I was already…” My turn for my voice to drop off.
“Taken?” Elaine’s clearly amused.
“Busy,” I answer firmly. “But I’m not.”
“You’re not playing cards with us on Friday?” She seems offended. Oh, great.
“No, no, I am,” I assure her. I curse Mark silently for putting me in this position. He thinks he can control my life and kiss Claudia? What? I need Amy. Now. My mind is buzzing with too many thoughts. My heart is crying from too many emotions. Someone has to talk me down.
Elaine gives me a quick hug and walks into her house, whistling lightly.
Hold on.
Have I just been played?
As Elaine’s front door shuts I stare at the door knocker, banging twice, like a ghost trying to get in.
Chapter Eighteen
“Who needs men when God gave us Golden Retriever puppies?” Minnie declares as I sit on the grass outside in the fenced area behind the no-kill shelter. I’m being pelted by eager little blonde puff balls of sweetness.
“Not me,” I say firmly. “I need Amy. I need pizza and ice cream. I need unlimited viewing of Charlie Hunnam’s ass. And I need doggy love, but I do not need men in real life.”
Minnie gives me a strange look. “I think I learned a little too much about you in that sentence, Carrie. And I don’t even want to think about Amy staring at Charlie Hunnam’s ass.”
I laugh through my nose. I have to. My lips are pressed shut because of the puppies licking my face.
“Speaking of Amy,” Minnie says with a frown, “I haven’t seen her in a day and a half. She’s not answering my texts. Any idea where she is?”
“Huh. A day and a half?” Amy and Minnie are super close. “That’s not like her at all.”
“I know.” Minnie’s eyebrows almost touch. “She does have a big work deadline…” Her voice trails off as she looks at me. It’s like she wants reassurance.
“I’ll text her,” I say, doing it right in front of Minnie. “Have you checked her apartment?”
Now Minnie looks sheepish. “I don’t want her to accuse me of being a hovermother.”
We laugh, but something in me clenches a little. I would love to have a hovermother. Heck, I would love to have a mother, period.
“I can’t believe,” I say, struggling to talk, “I haven’t been here in three years.”
“We were sorry to see you go,’ Minnie says quietly. She’s a tall, thin woman with ropy muscles and the long face of someone from the early 1900s. Whenever I see old black and white photos from the turn of the century I think of Minnie. It’s like someone plucked her from the 1910s and put her in the 2010s.
She dresses like a lumberjack, too, which is just weird enough in southern California to make her stand out. The fact that she’s six feet tall doesn’t help her, either. Amy’s adopted and looks nothing like her mom.
“Well, I’m back,” I say, answering the unasked question in her voice. I’m playing with three little goldens right outside, near the long hallway where the cages for the new dogs are. This is th
e adoption space, where people first get to touch their possible pets. First, the people look. Then, they tentatively ask if they can see one of the dogs. We take the dogs out and let them play together, supervised.
I’m giving the puppies some attention. According to Minnie, two days ago someone dropped four of them off on the front stoop in a box with a blanket and no note. She found them, the box taped shut, one of the dogs dead. They’re about ten weeks old and I know within the next two days they’ll be scooped up. People love sweet puppies.
My favorite are the old, wise animals with sadness in their eyes. They know loss. They’ve seen grief. Most of them are here because their owners died and the owners’ kids don’t want the dog. The place is full of sweet, loyal animals whose crime was nothing other than being there when their owner passed away. The children of the owners bring them here, offering donations and shaky smiles. They’re almost always women, and generally apologetic.
We try not to judge.
A howl shatters my thoughts and I look up. A second howl splits the air, and then a basset hound joins in. Soon, the entire shelter is doing a good impression of the scene from the movie 101 Dalmatians where the dog network spreads the news of the kidnapped puppies.
What news are these dogs spreading?
“Oh, you hush,” Minnie says down the hallway. Her voice is filled with affection. “It’s just Mark coming.”
Mark?
She gives me a warm look. “They love him. He fills his pockets with treats and they can’t stay away.”
Can’t stay away.
Minnie’s eyes are filled with mischief and suddenly it clicks.
“You and Elaine set this up, didn’t you?” I ask. My voice fills with exasperation.
“Who, me?” she asks sweetly, pretending to be innocent. The act doesn’t fool me.
“Minnie,” I groan as I stand and walk toward the door to go in. Mark appears at the threshold. I can see him through the window. The dogs begin to howl in earnest. They’re whipping themselves into a frenzy. As my eyes take him in, I can’t say I blame them.
He’s out of uniform now, dressed in khaki shorts, tennis shoes, and a raggedy t-shirt made for playing with dogs. There’s a casual looseness in his legs and arms. His shoulders aren’t tense. He’s smiling and touching the dogs through the cages. Mark leans in and lets a half pit bull, half black lab give him a wet kiss on the mouth.
I can’t be jealous of a dog, can I? Have I sunk so low? So far I’ve watched Mark kiss two beings today, and neither of them were me.
Mark slips a half a dog treat out of his pocket and tucks it through a small hole in the cage. He does this over and over, going down the line until all twelve dogs on one side get their treats. He comes back down the other side of the hallway, gently tossing two treats in with two different dogs who have warnings about biting behavior.
I go back to the grass. Mark’ll see me in a second. One of the puppies starts shoving its nose in my crotch and I scooch back, laughing.
Mark turns and sees the puppy, then me. He walks outside, propping open the door with a wooden wedge.
“Lucky dog,” he jokes.
I turn a furious shade of red.
Minnie gives Mark a quick hug and he says, “Any word from Amy? I mentioned her to the chief.”
What I thought was just a little thing now has me worried.
“You did?” Minnie looks relieved. “So I’m not being paranoid?”
Mark’s eyes flit over to me, then back to Minnie. “No one’s too paranoid right now.” All three of us know he means the abductions. The twentysomething women who are disappearing.
“I’m sure she’s fine,” I say. “I’ll check out her apartment tonight.”
“I’ll go with you,” Mark says in a voice that makes it clear there’s no room to argue.
“Don’t you have more dogs to kiss?” I reply. “You started with one at my office.”
His face goes blank, and then he turns red. Mark’s eyebrows shoot up in disbelief, like he can’t believe I just said that.
I can’t believe I did, either. But it’s true.
“That—I—Carrie, let me—”
A big old St. Bernard starts howling like a banshee crawled in his cage and cornered him. He sets off all the other dogs until the sound is so bad you can’t hear anyone speak. Minnie scoops up the three little golden retriever puppies and puts them in their tiny, shared space.
“You two have some unfinished business to discuss,” she says with a quiet determination. “How about you do it away from the animals? They can sense your tension. Frankly, so can I.”
“Really?” I squeak.
Minnie doesn’t answer me. She plucks two leashes off a hook next to the outdoor dog run and puts the big old St. Bernard and a German Shepard on the leads, taking them out for a spirited jolt that turns into a run.
I confront him head on. “What are you doing here?”
Mark pulls out one pocket, brushing off crumbs. “Same thing you’re doing. Volunteering. Like we used to.” His tone is carefully neutral.
“That’s not what I mean!” I hiss. “You’re following me!”
“How can I be following you when you just moved back home this week? I’ve been volunteering here at the animal shelter for more than three years.”
“You have?” I am thunderstruck. When we started volunteering here as a couple, I had to drag him along. He swore he was allergic to cats and hated dogs. All this time I’ve been gone, and it turns out he stayed and helped. I feel kind of stupid now. I don’t know why.
“I like the abandoned dogs. They’re good company. No one likes to be left behind without an explanation. It sucks to be rejected,” he says with a shrug.
Ouch.
I sigh. “You don’t have to use the dogs to get in your little insults with me.”
He just gives me an unreadable look.
“Besides, you’ve clearly recovered,” I say with an arched tone. “If you can hoover on Claudia like that, I don’t think you’re pining away over being abandoned by anyone.” Much less me, I think.
I’m letting my anger dictate what I say. If I say how I really feel, I’ll turn into a blubbering mess.
“Hoover?”
I make a sound with my mouth. “You know. Suck.”
He bursts out laughing, then immediately turns serious. “It’s not what you think. Claudia and I—”
I snort. “‘It’s not what you think.’ Is that some line they teach guys somewhere? Because it’s always what we think. You’re wasting your breath trying to tell me otherwise.”
His eyes narrow. They’re so amber and so intense. I feel like I’m pinned in place. It’s like he’s staked me into the ground. I can’t move.
“I don’t care about wasting my breath. Or my time. I’ll decide what’s worth saying and doing,” he declares.
Oh, my.
Mark takes a step toward me. I can’t stop looking at him. The hallway is well lit. The sound of dogs barking and howling surrounds us. The comforting scent of puppies and dogs and dander and fur fills my senses. I love the heat of an animal snuggled up against me.
I love the heat of Mark snuggled up against me even more.
He’s suddenly primal. Almost feral. Mark’s the most dangerous animal in this room.
And I can’t stop staring at him.
My chest fills with a warm kind of pressure, like my heart is trying to climb out and touch his. I want to feel all the good feelings I used to have for him. More than that, I want to feel hope. We used to have so much of it. Mark and I had our whole lives ahead of us. Whether we’d actually have worked out as a couple would never be answered.
Life intervened.
Dean Landau ruined all that hope.
“You’re the decider?” I say, my own voice so foreign. I sound so nasty. One of the dogs stops howling and begins to growl. I glance down and see its fangs.
“I’m not letting you stop me from explaining,” Mark insists.
&nbs
p; Minnie’s voice cuts through the tension. “Hey!” she hisses at us. Her eyes are filled with confusion and irritation. “Whatever’s going on between the two of you, move even further away.” She jerks her thumb toward the back door. “You’re upsetting the dogs.” She storms back to the building and I swear I hear her mutter, “And me,” under her breath.
I hold my hands up in mock surrender at Mark. “By all means! Explain away. I’m sure you have some perfect explanation for why your tongue was so far down Claudia Landau’s throat you could read Braille on her toenails.”
His topaz eyes widen but he says nothing. He looks about as angry as I feel. His eyes are normally round and alert. Smart and deep. Right now they’re narrowed and calculating as he tries to figure out how to get me to do whatever he wants me to do.
I’m so sick of this.
I’m so sick of being told what to feel. Of being lied to. Of being at the mercy of little wenches like Claudia, who think they deserve to get whatever they want. All I came home to do was to clear my father’s name. Getting my degree is an afterthought.
I never came home to fight with Mark.
“I was kissing her because of you,” Mark finally says.
I swallow funny at the shock of his words and start choking. “What?” I gasp, coughing furiously.
A group of middle school kids appears, flooding the back area. Sometimes the shelter invites youth groups to come in and donate, then walk around and touch the puppies. Mark grabs my arm and pulls me toward one of the side doors, opens it, and gently nudges me in.
We’re down the hall from the waiting area where a television blasts the nightly news.
“You were kissing Claudia because of me?” I say when my voice finally clears. I want to kick him in the shins. If Amy were here, she’d do it. “Me? That’s a new low, Mark. C’mon. Blaming me for your tonsil hockey?”
He looks up at the ceiling, runs a hand through his sandy hair, then towers over me, bent like we’re conspirators. “I’m not dating her. We were kissing because she grabbed me.”
Dangerous To Love Page 173