She waves it away. “Just bring ’em by from time to time for me to love on. That’ll be enough.”
* * *
After work, I go back and forth with myself on the way to the shelter located just inside Nassau proper. I don’t need a dog, but it makes sense to have one at home for protection. Before I moved around too much for it to be practical, but now I can afford to lay down some roots. It’s a small step, but an important one.
“Afternoon!” a bright voice greets me. “How can I help you today?”
The voice belongs to a cheerful but disheveled-looking blonde woman in her late twenties who is hefting an oversized bag of dog chow onto a counter. Her dark blue shirt is covered with dog and cat hair of every imaginable color, and her tattered jeans are spattered with indistinguishable stains.
“Hey, yes actually. I’m looking to adopt a dog.” A quick glance around the room tells me it’s a neatly kept place, probably as clean as it can be considering the occupants. The scent of antiseptic, animals, and dirt is strong, but the place isn’t dirty.
“My favorite kind of customer.” She smiles at me and reaches a hand across the cluttered countertop for me to shake. “I’m Jillian.”
I take her hand in mine. “Sienna, nice to meet you.”
“Why don’t you follow me on back, and we’ll go meet your new best friend.”
She pushes through a door to a room behind the counter, and we are immediately assaulted by the excited barks and yips from its inhabitants.
Jillian moves to the closest kennel and puts her fingers to the wire mesh. “Yes, hi, precious boy. I know you missed me.” The large terrier mix jumps up and bathes her fingers in slobbery kisses. “Feel free to look around and meet them. If you spot one in particular you’d like to get acquainted with, just let me know. They’re all fixed and house trained.”
Nodding, I take another step inside and turn toward the closest kennel. Inside is a sweet-looking long-haired dachshund with warm chocolate eyes. Even though every cell inside me is screaming to drop to my knees and give it a cuddle, I have to move on. If I’m going to get a dog, I need something big enough to train and protect me. The next few kennels prove to be an excitable Chihuahua, a smash-nosed Boston Terrier, and a Pomeranian, all of which are incredibly adorable, but I keep moving.
Then my eyes fall to the last of the kennels on the row. It’s inhabitant, unlike the rest of the animals, doesn’t make a peep. Curious, I draw near with careful footsteps so I don’t spook it. When I peer through the front of the crate, a pair of soft, honey-colored eyes meet mine, and I fall ass over tea-kettle in love with the mangiest, most pungent ball of fur I’ve ever met.
Without thought, I straighten and turn back to Jillian, who is already crossing the room to join me. “We have some others out back in the exercise kennels—”
“I want this one.” I jerk my thumb back at the matted mass of brown fur.
The look on her face can only be described as abject horror. “O-oh,” she stutters, “I don’t know. Rocky there hasn’t been fully treated. His owner beat him up pretty bad, and he was found wandering the highway just yesterday.” Noting the determined look I send her, Jillian rocks back on her heels. “Since he’s new, he’ll still need to come back in a week or so for a checkup and to receive another round of shots and schedule an appointment to get him fixed.”
As she speaks, I crouch down again and scoot closer to his cage. “Hey, there,” I say in a soft voice. “Hey there, Rocky.”
He whimpers and beneath the tangled mess of his fur, and his whole frame shakes as he shrinks against the back wall of the crate.
“Are you sure you’re up for this? He’s going to be a lot of work. He’ll need to be supervised for a couple days at least, and he howls something terrible when he’s left alone.”
I nod. “I understand. I work right next to my house, and I have a very understanding employer. I’ll take good care of him.”
“Why don’t you two get acquainted while I round up the paperwork?”
I hunker back down next to his cage as she pushes back through the door to the receptionist area. Even though there are dozens of other dogs, I only have eyes for this one. I won’t know what breed he is for sure until I can give him a proper bath and probably a good cut as well, but he looks to be some sort of Lab / Shephard mix.
“Hey, Rocky,” I say again, cooing at him in the gentlest voice I can muster. “Hey, boy. Do you wanna come home with me?” His ears twitch at my voice, but he doesn’t move. “We’ll get you a bath and some treats. I’ll even let you sleep on the bed with me. I bet you’re a good cuddler, huh?”
Jillian enters, her hands full of papers. “I’ll just need you to fill out the adoption information and there’s a thirty-dollar application fee. Since he’s still looking a little rough, I can throw in a bath before you leave and a quick grooming. He’s not injured as far as the vet can tell, but he is a little skittish and malnourished, so you’ll need to be very patient with him.”
“Thank you, I appreciate your help.” I take the offered clipboard and application and settle on a nearby table to fill out the paperwork. After a year of signing my new name to things, I don’t even bat a lash anymore. I fill in the bungalow address, my place of work, and the landlord information. Since I don’t have any other pets, I hand the clipboard back to Jillian.
She beams at me. “Let’s get you some treats and let the big guy out so you two can officially meet. Then we’ll give him that bath.” She heads to a line of cabinets and pulls out a handful of treats, which she then hands to me.
While she unlocks his cage, I get down to my knees so I’m on his level and hold out a hand. “Hey, Rocky,” I say again, but this time he lifts his head and sniffs. “C’mon, boy, do you want a treat?”
I place a treat near the entrance to his kennel, and he inches closer. Not wanting to spook him, I slowly ease back to give him some room. With a careful, guarded look at me, he lifts onto his haunches and delicately takes the treat between his teeth.
When he is done munching, he scoots a bit forward, and I hold out another treat on my palm. His body trembles, but he takes a step out of the cage in my direction, scenting the air for the treat I hold in my open palm.
“It’s okay. I’m not gonna hurt you, baby.” As much as I want to inch closer, I hold the same position until Rocky takes a tentative step forward. Then another and another until his wet nose sniffs at the treat in my hand. He glances up at me, then nips the treat with a swipe of his tongue. He doesn’t retreat back into his cage, so I offer him another. “Good boy, Rocky. Good boy.”
“That’s the closest he’s gotten to another person aside from me.” I grin up at Jillian and she crouches down to pet him. “Looks like you made a friend.”
When I offer him another treat, he abandons all traces of restraint and launches himself at me. I bury my face in his fur, ignoring the dirt and grime because he’s not the only one who needs a friend.
Logan
Sofie meets me at the department to interview the assault victim, Faith Gallagher, the next day. She’d been put through the humiliating misery of the evidence collection and documentation and now she’d have to relive the worst night of her life in front of an audience. Sometimes my job sucked, and now is admittedly one of those times, but not as much as it sucks to see the vacant expression in Ms. Gallagher’s face as she walks in the station.
“Has she said anything yet?” I ask Sofie.
“She’s responsive. Seems a little steadier today.”
Glancing down at her, I’m struck by how small she seems. She’s wearing a sweater and a pair of jeans tucked into dark boots. She may be tall for a woman, but at six-two, I still tower over her.
I look away. “I hate bringing you here.”
Two uniformed officers guide Hayley to a secluded conference room. She keeps her eyes on her shoes to avoid the inevitable stares the entire way.
Sofie puts a reassuring hand on my shoulder. “Don’t be,” she s
ays. “The way I look at it is that I get to help people the way I wish I’d been helped.”
When Sofie was younger, just a teenager, she was attacked and raped by someone she considered a friend. She never told anyone—not even her boyfriend, who happens to be her now husband, Jack. For ten years, she could barely stand to come back to Nassau, let alone confront what happened to her. When her mother died, leaving her two brothers, Donnie and Rafe orphaned, she moved back to take care of them. In doing so, she also had to face the man who brutalized her.
I kiss her hair. “You’re one of the strongest people I know, you know that, right?”
She smiles up at me. A couple years ago, I would have been hard pressed to think she could be so happy when she’d always been so haunted. “Quite the compliment coming from you.”
“Are you sure you won’t leave Jack and run away with me?”
Laughter dances in her eyes. “You’d better be glad he’s deployed or you’d have to take that up with him.”
“How is he doing?”
“Happiest he’s ever been, I think. You’ve talked to him. He missed it.”
I think back to my time in the Marines as a sniper. Most of my job involved waiting, lots of it, and the rest was choosing whether or not the target on the other end of my scope was going to die on that particular day. Unlike Jack, when my second tour was up and my marriage crashed and burned, I was ready to get out. Ready for a change. Being a cop is the best thing to ever happen to me. I get to help save lives instead of taking them.
One of the officers comes out to greet us. Sofie shakes his hand and then looks to me. “Ready?”
The conference room isn’t cozy, but we do what we can to make Ms. Gallagher feel comfortable. Sofie takes a seat next to her and I offer her a cup of water.
“Thank you for coming in today,” I tell her as I take a seat in front of her.
She nods and the smile she sends my way is wobbly and doesn’t reach her eyes.
“I’m going to keep this as to the point as possible. I know Sofie has explained the process to you. Do you have any questions?”
Ms. Gallagher nods after a quick glance at Sofie for reassurance. “N-no, thank you. She was very clear. I just want to get this over with.”
“I won’t take up much of your time. Why don’t you start with what you were doing yesterday evening?”
She takes a sip from the paper cup and wipes her lips with trembling fingers. “Uh, it was a Tuesday, so I had an evening class—bio. I didn’t get out until eight or so.”
“At the community college?” At her nod, I note it down on my pad and look back up at her. I don’t want to pester her with questions and I’ve found it best to let them retell the events in their own words. It helps with recall and allows for greater detail than a question by question interview.
“My car was parked on the other side of campus, and it’s easier to cut through the park. Faster. So I was walking through the main sidewalk there when this guy comes up to me.”
“Was there anyone around?”
She bites her lip, looks down at her hands. “Um, maybe? A lot of people choose to take that shortcut, so there should have been. I wasn’t paying much attention. I have a Spanish exam Friday and I was studying flash cards on my phone. I should have been paying attention. It was so stupid.”
Sofie places a hand on Ms. Gallagher’s. “It wasn’t your fault.”
“He came at me from behind, surprised me. At first he—I mean, he was nice. He was cute.” She buries her face in her hands. “I was flattered. I can’t remember what he said because he hit me.” Her fingers probe the bandaged area on her head. “Then I was in the woods and I couldn’t see anyone.”
I make another note to contact her class and others who may have been walking on the same trail. She may not have seen them, but there could have been a witness.
As I write, she continues, “I know I should have fought, should have called out for help, but I was just so scared.”
“I know this is hard, but every detail may help catch the man who did this to you.”
She nods and wipes her eyes. “The more scared I got, the more he . . . liked it. Jesus.” Sofie makes a sound of encouragement. “There was a sound, there must have been something that spooked him because he turned back like he heard something. I didn’t even think about it, I just pushed him and he lost his balance. I got away. I just ran. I could barely see, couldn’t even recognize where I was.”
“I know it’s not easy to remember these things, but do you remember if you hit him? Scratched him, maybe?”
While she thinks, she digs her knuckles into her eyes. “I don’t, I don’t know. Maybe?”
“You’re doing just fine,” Sofie says next to her.
“Were you able to get a good look at him? Was there anything about him that was familiar?” Most victims know their attacker. In a high number of date rape and sexual assault cases, the offender is someone they knew. Like in Sofie’s case. The thought makes me gnash my teeth, but I focus on Ms. Gallagher’s response.
She shakes her head. “It was dark, but he didn’t have his face covered. I’m sorry, I didn’t recognize him, though. I just remember that he was attractive, like I said.”
“Would you be up for sitting with one of our sketch artists?
A shrug, then a sign. “Sure. I don’t know how much help I’ll be, but I’ll try.”
I hand her my card. “If there’s anything else you remember, anything at all, or if you feel like you’re in danger, please don’t hesitate to give me a call.”
“Thank you, Detective Blackwell.” She stands and rounds the table, coming to a stop in front of me. “Thank you,” she says again. For a second it looks as if she wants to give me a hug, but then she turns and leaves.
“Doesn’t get any easier,” Sofie says, once the door closes behind her.
I glance back at my notes, the file with the crime scene information. If she hadn’t got away, I can’t even imagine what would have happened to her. Even though she got away, I know the man who did this to her is still out there.
“No, it doesn’t.”
* * *
Hours later, I stagger to my truck, my feet dragging and my brain a throbbing mass of images I can’t seem to forget. I toss the folder with the Gallagher case information onto the passenger seat and chug a can of soda I got from the vending machine. Then, without looking back at the station, I start my truck and back out of the parking lot.
I should go straight home, take a shower, eat some real food, and park myself in front of the television for a couple hours. I should get a good night’s sleep so I’ll be ready for a long day of interviewing the college students I managed to track down who where in the park around the same time Faith was.
I know if I go home to that empty house, the only thing I’ll think about is turning right back around and heading to the first open liquor store. For a while, I just drive aimlessly, but before long, I end up pulling into my driveway, my focus turning to my neighbor’s house.
Tonight, she has the front window open, which is different, but all the lights are on again. What is it with that woman and turning every light in the joint on?
I tell myself to just go inside my own damn house, but a sound from inside distracts me.
I slip from the cab of my truck and shut to door quietly. Making sure not to walk on the gravel, I make my way to her front porch.
“What am I going to do with you?” she’s saying. “Look at this mess! First you jump all over me and then you get me all wet. No, don’t kiss me anymore!”
My brows damn near into my hairline, I bang on the screen door. “Sienna?”
She doesn’t answer me, but I hear her say, “You stay right here or I’m not going to give you a surprise later.”
Anger, irritation, and plain male stupidity burns away every trace of exhaustion. Now I know I don’t have any claim to this woman, but I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t entertained the idea of seeing if she tastes
as good as she looks. The thought of her with another man plain makes me want to hit something—or someone. When she appears in the hallway with her hair askew and clothes rumpled as if she just threw them on, I scowl at her.
The angry look stops her in her tracks a few steps away from the door. She frowns, those lips I’d been daydreaming about only make me even more irritated. “What did I do now?”
“Not a damn thing.”
Her brows furrow. “Then why are you looking at me like that?”
“Uh—nothing. Sorry. Long day..”
“Are you okay?”
Before I can answer, a brown, furry mass darts down the hall and heads straight for Sienna. “What is—”
She shrieks, throwing up her hands to block the wet dog barreling at her. “Rocky! You were supposed to wait in the bathroom so I could dry you off, silly boy.”
Struck dumb, I can only stare as she crouches down to run her hands over the dog’s soaking wet fur. “You have a dog?”
She glances up at me, one hand still stroking over him. “I do now. I adopted him from the shelter today.”
“I’m an idiot.”
“Most men are,” she says offhandedly. “Did your aunt need something?”
“No, she uh—” I pull my gaze away from the dog and catch her curious look. “I wasn’t going to come here,” I say, still standing on the other side of the screen.
“Then why did you?”
I rub a hand over my closely cropped hair and then over my neck and roll my shoulders impatiently. “I wanted a beer.”
She opens her mouth. Closes it. Shakes her head with a confused laugh. “You wanted a beer?”
I take a step closer. “Do I have to stand on the porch talking through the door? This is becoming a bad habit of yours.”
“What?”
“Making people talk to you through a door.”
She takes a step back. I wonder if it is intentional or instinctual. All I know is that it makes me want to follow. “It’s the smart thing to do,” she says, and she’s probably right.
Savior (First to Fight Book 4) Page 9