by Amy Shojai
“Promise me? Not just Thor. There’s three need to stay.” She had to push to get any sound past her damaged throat. “The black shepherd and pup, they’re together in the same kennel.” Karma and Shadow shouldn’t be separated. Not like this.
He turned back to her, brow furrowing. “That torn up black dog? He’s yours, too? And that fierce little ankle-biter?”
“Grandfather, please. Help me. You won’t be sorry.” Lia never begged. But she’d do it now, pride be damned. She asked for more than a pass on the dogs, and he knew it.
He stared at her a long moment. “You trained that pup, did you? She attacked on command, a young one like that?”
She nodded, and then winced with pain.
“You’ve got the touch, all right. Kaylia had it with horses, that’s how she met your father.” He didn’t hide his bitterness. “Now you’ve got the touch with dogs.” He scrubbed his eyes. “Never could say no to your mother. Promised I wouldn’t make the same mistake with you.” His palm cupped her cheek. “You look so much like her, Lia. Sound the same, act the same. So beautiful.” His words, identical to Derek’s, held wistful longing. “But I lost her long ago to that damn cowboy. And tonight, I almost lost you.” He cleared his throat.
“Who is he? My father, I mean. Grandfather, I have a right to know.” Her face burned. “Derek said that he and my mom—”
His lips tightened and he took back his hand. “Your father’s an ocean away and dead, for all I care. He gave up his rights to you and your mother when he walked away.”
For a moment, Lia felt overwhelming relief that Derek had lied. But that raised even more questions.
Before she could ask any of them the EMTs bustled into the room and Grandfather stood aside to make room for them. Lia yelped when they moved her to the gurney. The beating had sensitized her entire body so that even untouched areas radiated heat.
Grandfather took her good hand and walked beside the gurney to the waiting ambulance. She saw the county panel truck from Animal Control arrive, and she squeezed Grandfather’s hand.
“Please, my dogs. Grandfather, don’t let them take my dogs!” A lonely howl arose from the kennel area, tickling that mind’s-eye magical place. A familiar puppy-girl’s falsetto tones joined in. Both pleaded the cause. Or simply serenaded the moon’s rain-washed glow.
Grandfather squeezed her hand without answering, and watched them load her into the ambulance.
Chapter 24
September crossed her arms and winced as she lowered herself into the hospital chair. She wore the clothes her mother had brought, more suited to a business meeting than comfortable recovery. Her bruises would take time to heal, but that time didn’t need to be spent in the hospital. She had to get out of here. September signed herself out over the protests of the doctors, Combs and her parents.
Mom would arrive any minute. Combs hadn’t offered an update on the search for Shadow, and she’d been afraid to ask. Better to find out the truth face to face, when she could read his expression. She scrubbed her cheeks with a sodden tissue and settled herself when she heard footsteps approach.
A big white-haired man clutching a cowboy hat rapped on the doorframe before he stuck his head inside. “Excuse me, ma’am. Are you September Day, the dog trainer?”
She nodded with a wary frown. Notoriety followed her like stink on a skunk, and she had little patience to play nice with strangers today. “I’m expecting someone.” She hoped he’d take the hint.
“I won’t take much of your time. The name’s Corazon, William Corazon. Most folks just call me Dub.” He ducked into the room, adding, “Sorry to hear about your troubles. Don’t get up, sit easy.”
Everyone knew her troubles. She didn’t want to shake his hand, but couldn’t avoid it. “What can I do for you, Mr. Corazon?”
“I’m here visiting my granddaughter, Lia.” He nodded toward the door. “She’s laid up from the storm and, well, she’s got some injuries.” His eyes shifted away, and September wondered what he chose not to mention. “She’s crazy about dogs, wants to train them for the police.”
“Sorry to hear about her injuries. I could stop in and say hello before I leave, I suppose.” September strained to see around him. “My ride should be here soon.”
“No, I’d rather you didn’t visit Lia, not just yet.” He fingered the brim of the hat, staring at it as though the secret of the universe lay within. “A mutual friend told me you’d trained a police dog before. Lia’s heart set on training dogs for the Heartland Police Department. Maybe you could evaluate her dog in a few months, see if her training passes the sniff test? Forgive the intrusion, ma’am, but when I found out you were right next to Lia’s hospital room, I had to take a chance and talk with you.” He looked up, eyes narrowed. “Make no mistake, I don’t support her foolishness. She’s got grand opportunities with my business, and a great future. But young people always want to make their own decisions.” He growled the last words. “They don’t listen and get hurt along the way. This pipe dream landed Lia in the hospital.”
She narrowed her eyes. “You want me to persuade her to give up dog training? How old is this girl?” K9 officer training varied, depending on the animal and what skills were needed. What mutual friend could he mean? She’d told very few people about her days working with the South Bend police. Her heart contracted with remembered hurt at the loss of her first dog. She hadn’t been able to protect him, so even more reason to not give up on Shadow. “Combs sent you to me?”
His face brightened at the name. “She thinks she’s all grown up, just because she’s out of school and on her own.”
“Then she’s an adult, Mr. Corazon. She’d resent me butting in. I sure would.” Life was going to be busy with her established clients and rebuilding the house.
“Just consider the idea, would you? Lia won’t get out of the hospital for a while. I hope she’ll rethink her future all on her own. But if she’s stubborn, having someone with experience could shine a light on reality for her. Money’s no object, I can pay double your usual fee.” He smiled and turned to go.
Combs met him at the door. “What are you doing here?”
September rose from the chair, gritting her teeth with the effort. “Did you find him? Is Shadow okay?” Her heartbeat drummed in her ears. She held her breath, praying for the right answer.
“Just wanted to introduce myself, that’s all.” He shook hands with Combs, and put on his hat. “Thanks for helping my granddaughter, Detective.” Corazon exited the room.
“What did he want? He shouldn’t be bothering you.” Combs hurried to September’s side, and took her arm. “Are you ready to go?”
“You’ve got to tell me. Did you find my dog?” She couldn’t breathe, already knowing the truth. Combs would have shouted good news as soon as he walked in.
“I have to keep looking for him.”
With gentle care, Combs took September into his arms. “I know. I know you do. We can talk about it at home.”
“Mom’s picking me up. I told you that.” She walked away, to stare out the hospital window. After the many dark days, storm clouds had given way to blue sky. Bright sun reflected on the water-filled parking lot that still resembled a lake.
“Why did you send Mr. Corazon to me?” She couldn’t stop the accusatory tone. He’d shared private information about her with a stranger. What else had he shared?
“Wait, what?” Combs’s furrowed brow aged him ten years.
Before he could answer, Mom bustled into the room. “I’ve got your old room straightened, and your father’s waiting in the car—” She saw Combs and her nostrils flared. “Detective. You do seem to spend lots of time away from your responsibilities.”
Combs stuck his hands in his pockets. His jaw flexed but he spoke softly. “Rose, I’m here to—”
“You can call me Mrs. January, Detective. I certainly appreciate the help the police offered September, but her father and I will take care of our daughter.” She spied the empty
overnight bag she’d brought and collected it with a graceful swoop. “Are you ready? We shouldn’t keep your father waiting.”
September refused to meet Combs’s eyes. Mom grasped her arm and led her from the room down the hallway to the elevator. She needed time away from him, time to herself, to figure out next steps. Without Shadow’s steadying presence, her brain wouldn’t focus. Better to be swept along on Mom’s determination and choose her battles later. She understood Mom. If Combs shared her private past with a stranger, maybe she didn’t know him after all.
The elevator opened, revealing a petite blue-eyed blond woman dressed in a matching powder blue suit and blue heels. She startled and her lips drew into a thin, angry line as she stepped into the hall.
Mom’s hand tightened on September’s arm. “Mom, let go, that hurts!” She shrugged free of the grip, and raised her eyebrows at the two women who faced off like cats ready to spit.
“That’s your daughter?” The blond woman sniffed and looked September up and down. Her lip curled. “She doesn’t look a thing like you, does she? But then, I wouldn’t expect her to.”
“Let’s go, September. Your father’s waiting.” Mom grabbed her arm again, and urged her into the elevator.
“Who is that?” September refused to move. She’d never seen her mother in such a state.
“Nobody you need to know.” Mom looked ready to cry.
“She never told you about me.” The woman smoothed her helmet of blond hair, the gesture at once familiar. At the sudden déjà vu, September looked sharply at Mom.
“I’m not moving until somebody explains to me—”
Mom whirled, back stiff, and stalked onto the elevator by herself. She faced outwards, ignoring the woman to address September. “Don’t keep your father waiting. I’ll see you downstairs.”
“Oh for heaven’s sake.” September hurried onto the elevator, but stared back at the other woman’s face, noting the resemblance. “Who is that?” The elevator door closed.
Mom wilted. “I never wanted to see her again.” She smoothed her hair with the same gesture, the only difference trembling hands. “That’s Cornelia Corazon. My sister.”
Chapter 25
Lia stared at the computer screen, scouring the “lost pet” postings on social media. Nearby, Thor snored on his bed. He spent most of his time sleeping, as if tracking during the storm had drained away the last of his energy. She suspected it wouldn’t be long before Thor joined Abe in the heavenly mist over Hawaii. “Rest well, good boy.”
Lia’s voice still sounded like she’d gargled acid. Grammy said it made her sound sultry and offered to fix her up with someone suitable. Lia told Grammy she didn’t like suits.
Grammy hadn’t been amused.
She sported peacock-hued bruises, her broken wrist was in a cast, and two broken ribs limited her movement. She’d been confined to bed with a concussion for the first twenty-four hours, and hated the stern nurses who had woken her every hour to ensure she didn’t sleep forever. Lia just wished the tinnitus would abate, but the doctors said the ringing in her ears might be permanent. The worst part of the hospital stay, though, was worrying about her dogs.
After two nights in the hospital Lia needed out. She had argued with her grandparents—they wanted her to “come home” to their house—and had returned to her own place, and the remaining dogs. It was where she belonged. At least Grandfather had not let animal control take Thor, Karma or Shadow, and he’d sent someone to care for them.
Shadow whined, and cold-nosed her arm. Lia hadn’t found any listing for the koa, the warrior dog. Truth be told, she hadn’t looked very hard. She kept expecting to feel that whisper-tickle in her mind’s eye, but hadn’t experienced anything since her return from the hospital. Maybe she’d imagined the connection, or the life-and-death emotions enhanced a latent talent now gone dormant. Or perhaps her head injuries destroyed the budding ability.
Her injuries forced her to take it easy, but she could still type one handed for internet searches. She picked up the chewed leather lariat coiled on the desk and fingered the tooled set of initials in the cowhide: W. Tex. She’d always assumed that was a maker’s mark of some sort, and indicated manufacture in West Texas, but learned that most lariats in the state were made from hemp rope. This lasso was old, something passed down in a family. She’d already made arrangements to have it repaired. W. Tex. must be a name, so even if her mother used it, Lia was sure the lariat came from her “cowboy” father.
She fingered bead-letters on the baby bracelet from her mother that spelled out her name, and then turned back to the computer to click on the search icon. She typed in the query:
Cowboy + Hawaii
Her eyes widened at the 800,000+ results. A quick scan confirmed a number of possible established ranches that her mother might have visited and met her paniolo father on that fateful Hawaii vacation nine months before Lia’s birth. The Waimea possibility made Lia miss Abe even more. He could have answered many questions.
She’d made a start.
Her cell phone rang, and Lia wrinkled her nose at the interruption until she recognized the caller. She hadn’t spoken to Grandfather since leaving the hospital.
“How are your dogs?” His inquiry was a pointed reminder that without his intervention, Shadow and Karma would be at the county shelter. He cleared his throat, and added, “And how are you feeling?”
“Fine, getting better all the time.” Her false bravado didn’t fool him. Hell, it didn’t fool her, either. She still felt like she’d been through the wringer. Lia smiled at Shadow, and the black shepherd thumped his tail. Karma took that as an invitation and threw herself against him.
“You coming home?”
Lia watched the two dogs play, smiling at their antics when the much larger shepherd allowed Karma to attack his tail. They played gentle tug-‘o-war with the stuffed lamb toy she’d given Karma to snuggle, since she no longer had her littermates. The pair were inseparable, and the puppy-girl was smitten. So was she.
She sighed. “If you won’t loan me the money to fix things, I don’t have any choice.” She stared out the taped up window and noticed the broken office door had unlatched itself again. Lia used her foot to scoot a nearby step stool to brace it closed.
With insurance lapsed, and no funds of her own, the kennel dream was blown to hell and gone. Literally. She couldn’t board dogs with the place in shambles, and couldn’t fix things without money from boarders.
The reservations for spring break loomed. She hated the thought of calling Abe’s long-time clients and telling them to find another place.
“Lia-girl, there’s always choices. Just have to be willing to live with the consequences.” His voice softened. “I want you to be happy, but we’ve got different ideas about making that happen. It’s time you stop playing around and join the family business. You’ve got the touch, just like your mother did.”
“Grandfather, I told you—”
“I know, I know, it’s all about the dogs.” His sigh reached clear down to his boots. “No money in it. But your grandmother and I talked for a long time about this. And I realize,” his voice shook, and then steadied, “I can’t force you. I learned that lesson the hard way with Kaylia.”
What she’d long believed to be cold disdain Lia suddenly recognized as bitter self-protection. But before she could say anything, he rushed on.
“You gotta learn for yourself, I understand that. And some mistakes are good for a person. But I’ll be damned if I let you make the same ones she did, so hear me out.” The familiar demanding tone returned. Grandfather always got his way.
She sighed, resigned. “I’m listening.” He’d never been willing to bend before. Maybe he had changed a little bit. But then, she’d never stopped to listen to him, either.
“I still want you to be part of Corazon Stables, Lia. But I’ll give you six months to prove me wrong. Show me your dog training skills in that time, and I’ll rebuild that falling down boarding kennel.
At least you won’t be an embarrassment to the Corazon brand, and can look like a real professional.”
Her jaw dropped open. “You’d do that?” Maybe he had changed. “Wait. What’s the catch?”
He laughed. “Always so suspicious. Yes, I’d do that. You get to pick the dog, and I choose the evaluator. Friend of mine recommended September Day.”
Lia had heard of September and thought that she would be fair. “Any dog?” Her pulse sped up as she watched the shepherd and Karma play-wrestle. “Six months? To train a police dog?” Not enough time for Karma. But the shepherd. . . Shadow already knew so much that it could give her a head start. “And if I fail the test?” She smiled. No way would she mess this up.
He didn’t hesitate. “You put aside that pipe dream about dog training and join the family business. Oh, and one more thing.”
Here it comes. “What else, Grandfather?” She braced herself.
He spat the words. “No more questions about your father. I mean it, Lia. Try to find that cabrón, that bastard, and I’m done with you.”
Chapter 26
Karma jumped again at the black shepherd, play-growling and feinting at Shadow’s big paws. He pulled one paw away, and then the other, and then stood to get out of reach. Shadow growled, but Karma could tell he didn’t mean it by the way his tail moved from side to side and his ears followed her movement.
She looked around, startled when Lia tossed something on the desk, and stood up with an exclamation. “Dammit. Should have known.”
The girl’s frustration and anger made Karma whine. She loped across the room to Lia, and without prompting, grabbed the girl’s pant leg in her teeth and shook her head, hard. As expected, Lia laughed.
She’d figured out all by herself that making Lia laugh made them both feel better. Her short tail quivered and she rolled onto her back to ask for a tummy rub. Karma had become very fond of tummy rubs. The girl obliged, but had to sit in the chair before she could bend over and stroke Karma’s chest.