“I like you, Tyler Foster…” Sam thought as his long tongue reached out to lick Tyler’s nervous, shaking hand. “And so does my sweet Amanda…”
16. The Bait Dogs Arrive
Tim Breydan and Ross Taylor lay on their bellies, hidden by the thick covering of underbrush that overlooked the circular grove on the Abbott ranch. They each had their own set of binoculars and watched intently while Abbott’s crew herded thirty small-to-mid-size dogs into an enclosed arena.
Tim and Ross had worked together for three years on cases like the one they were on now; they were both dedicated Animal Protection Inspectors who were part of an undisclosed division within the USDA’s Center for Animal Welfare Department, and had been extremely successful in helping to shut down dozens of dog-fighting rings during that time. Although this department’s primary mission was to collaborate with other animal welfare entities to ensure that federally established standards of care and treatment of animals were enforced, Tim and Ross had been eager to sign up for the special assignment to help shut down dog-fighting rings across the United States. They had both been trained extensively by members of ASPCA’s anti-cruelty team.
Tim stared through his binoculars and pointed. “There’s our contact…the young man squatting next to that last cage on the left…the one with the large, black dog in it…see him?”
Ross nodded. “Yeah, I see him…that’s B.B. Foster’s son…we’re supposed to meet up with him tonight. From what I hear in town, there’s another fight scheduled for next Friday night.”
Tim was quiet for a moment while he continued to watch some of the crewmembers moving about the closed arena where the latest batch of bait dogs had been secured. He winced when one overweight, belligerent ranch hand kicked a small terrier-mix that had come over to him to be petted. “Son-of-a-bitch…” he muttered beneath his breath.
“Easy, Tim…we can’t get to them now…nor will we be able to save them all…but, if everything goes according to plan, we can lock these assholes up soon and throw away the key…at least for a few years…”
The terrier-mix was slow to get up, but it eventually managed to crawl itself into the far corner of the arena. Tim and Ross were both so intent on watching the other bait dogs that neither of them saw Tyler running to the small dog’s rescue. They also did not see the latch on the cage that housed the large, black pit slide open, apparently, all on its own.
“Hey!” Tyler yelled. “You didn’t have to kick him!” He marched up to the overweight crew member who was a younger, flabbier version of Little John Abbott, and quickly felt the crunch of the massive blow to his belly.
The crewmember who had kicked the pup glowered at Tyler. “Don’t tell me how to do my job, Jones…” He didn’t have a chance to say anything else.
Sam approached quickly and attacked the brute before he could turn back around. He growled and jumped on the man’s back and knocked him to the ground. When the crewmember, whose name was Bubba, turned over on his back, Sam was quick to go for his throat. He could easily have ripped open the man’s exposed throat, but Sam knew that the angels…and God…would be disappointed in him if he reacted in that way; instead, he growled and slobbered onto Bubba’s trembling face, got off him, and ambled slowly over to where the terrier-mix lay trembling in the corner. “Don’t worry little one...you are safe with me…I’m going to have to do something to you, but I need you to just go along with me, okay?”
The small dog continued to tremble, and did not respond to Sam’s soothing words.
What happened next was a horrible sight to witness…if you were human. Sam moved quickly and grabbed the small dog by the throat. He shook him violently for several seconds until those humans who were watching in awe, heard the snap of the pup’s neck.
“Damn…did you see that?” Bubba blubbered as he pushed himself up and stumbled to a standing position. He was oblivious to the dog drool that covered his face and shirt.
Nobody answered him; instead, they all backed away nervously when Sam turned and moved toward them. Tyler tried to shake the horrible death scene from his mind and quickly hooked a heavy-duty leader leash around Sam’s neck. “Easy, fella…come on, now…let’s get you back inside your cage.”
Bubba had recovered his wits about him by that time and charged at Tyler. “I’m going to kill that mother right now…I’m going to bash his head in with my bare fists…”
Tyler dropped the leash and turned quickly to administer his own belly-crunching blow to Bubba’s massive gut. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you…this dog is important to Little John, and I doubt he would react favorably to anyone who bashed his head in with their bare fists.” He looked back at the small, lifeless form of the terrier-mix. “And, don’t touch that one…I’ll take care of him myself.”
Bubba clenched his fists but quickly turned away when Sam growled and lunged at him again. “Get that mutt outta here now! How the hell did he get out of his cage, anyway?”
Tyler picked up the leash and led a seemingly subdued Sam back to his cage. He turned to look at the other crewmembers who were laughing at Bubba’s reaction to the attack. He watched while they continue to separate the bait dogs into groups of four; none of them bothered the limp terrier that lay dead in the far corner of the arena. Tyler closed the cage and secured the lock. He knew he had locked it behind him and could not fathom how the dog had managed to escape. He reached through the bars and rubbed the top of Sam’s massive head. “I wish you hadn’t done that, fella…it was just a pup…it didn’t deserve to die that way…”
The crew members all dispersed after the bait dogs had been separated; there were other chores that had to be done before the training commenced later that afternoon. When they had all left, Tyler returned to the arena and went to where the terrier-mix lay on the soft red clay. He stroked its side, noting that the pup could not have weighed more than fifteen pounds. “I’m so sorry, little guy…so very sorry this had to happen to you…” He bowed his head and said a silent prayer for the pup who had probably been someone’s pet at one time. He fell flat on his butt again when he felt a cold nose press against his arm. “Damn!” he yelled when he saw the black pittie-mix standing directly behind him. “How the hell are you getting out of your cage?”
Sam moved to stand beside Tyler and stared directly into his eyes. “I shouldn’t let you see this, but Max said you could be trusted, so…” Sam walked slowly around to where Tyler still sat on the ground, until he came to the lifeless pup. He lay down beside the terrier-mix and placed one large paw on it; it appeared that he was hugging the dog to him.
Tyler watched in total awe as the huge dog gently took the lifeless body and folded it into what appeared to be an embrace. He watched the larger dog lick the terrier’s face until…
“Oh…my…God…” Tyler whispered beneath his own shattered breathing. He could not believe what he was seeing. He knew the terrier had been dead; he had heard the snap of the pup’s small neck when the pit shook it to its death…yet…now…the eyes of terrier slowly opened and a tiny whimper escaped him. Tyler held his breath and brought both palms together, pressed against his mouth. “Oh…my…God…” he repeated.
Sam lifted his massive paw off the resurrected pup and allowed it to crawl toward Tyler, onto his waiting lap.
_____
Tim gasped and dropped his binoculars. “Jesus Christ!” he rasped. “Jesus…did you see that, Ross?”
Ross continued looking through his binoculars. He had been watching the other bait dogs being maneuvered by the crew. He had seen the large black dog shake and kill the small terrier, but he had not witnessed the subsequent resurrection of the pup.
Both men had been so engrossed in what they were witnessing, that they did not hear the first crackle of leaves behind them. They both heard the second crackle, however, but it was too late for either of them to reach for their guns. They each felt the cold end of a rifle against the back of their necks.
“Well, well…” Clint Meacham gri
nned and spat a wad of brown juice from his mouth. “What do you suppose we have here, Pete? Looks like a couple of trespassers, wouldn’t you say?”
Clint’s second in command, Pete Ratchett, hacked up phlegm and spit it out. “Yep…that’s what they look like to me. What do you think we should do with ‘em, Boss?”
Clint thought the two men might be the ones that Little John had mentioned earlier…the ones who had been asking too many questions about dog-fighting. “Get up slow…both of you…and don’t try anything, ‘cause I’d just as soon blown your brains out right here and now…come on, up slow…very slow…”
Tim and Ross pushed themselves up on their knees and into a standing position.
“Put your hands behind your head,” Clint barked. He noticed the side holsters on each man. “Get their guns, Pete.”
The inspectors complied but did not say anything. They had both removed all forms of identification before they left their hotel room that morning. They knew this would buy them some time if they were caught spying at the Abbott ranch, but wondered if that would be enough. The only person in town who knew where they were staying was Tyler Foster, and they were supposed to meet him in person later that night. They could only hope that when/if they didn’t show for the meeting, that Tyler might put two and two together, contact the authorities, and ensure their identifications did not fall into the wrong hands.
Clint nodded to the path behind him. “Get moving, gentlemen…”
Tim caught Ross’s eye and shook his head slightly, silently warning him not to say or do anything.
Pete hacked and snorted again. “Why can’t we just kill ‘em here? It’s not like we ain’t done it before…”
“Shut your damn mouth, Pete.” Clint motioned for the two men to follow after Pete. “Hog-tie them and throw them in the bed of your truck. I’ll get their vehicle and follow behind you. Take them to the cabin at the pit. It’s your job to make sure those ropes are good and tight because if these fellas get away, your ass is mine, and I’ll throw you in the pit with the rest of the garbage.”
Pete knew that Clint Meacham would do just that, so he was quick to follow orders. “I got it covered, Boss…”
Clint looked back and retrieved both sets of binoculars. His gaze darted briefly down the hill to the hidden grove where the dogs were caged. He had not witnessed the miracle that Sam had administered, but he watched while Tyler petted one of the mutt-bait dogs and lifted it to his chest; it looked like he was comforting the dog. “Maybe I’ll toss you inside the pit along with these two sissies…” He spat and turned around; he held his rifle to the backs of the two men who were following Pete to the truck he and Clint had parked a quarter-mile away.
Sam stopped in his tracks on his way back to his cage. He turned and looked up toward the brushy meadow at the top of the hill, about a mile away. “That’s not good…” he thought. His gaze then drifted to the enclosed arena, where Tyler stood, holding the small terrier-mix to his chest. “But…that is good…” he sighed, walked back inside his cage, and lay down on the extra bedding of pine straw Tyler had provided the night before. He closed his eyes and the sliding lock engaged on his cage.
17. Tyler Confides to Amanda
Bertie placed the Italian sausage, peppers, and cheese omelet in front of Tyler, and poured him a cup of coffee. “Surprised to see you back here so soon…” she said. She had watched him intently since he entered the restaurant twenty minutes ago. “You’re white as a sheet, boy…do you want to talk about it?”
Tyler snapped out of the fog he had been in ever since witnessing the resurrection of the small dog that had been killed by the huge, black dog he and Clint had picked up the day before. He had immediately placed the resurrected dog inside his pick-up truck and instinctively headed toward the little restaurant with the floating halo. He had not told anyone that he was leaving, so he knew he might not have a job to go back to; but, sheer instinct had told him to gather the pup up and bring him to the Heavenly Grille Café. He did not remember ordering anything to eat, but he must have, because the bossy waitress had just placed the mouth-watering meal on the counter in front of him. He turned his head and glanced backward toward his truck in the parking lot. The small black and white terrier was barking and hanging his two front paws over the open driver’s window.
Tyler looked back at Bertie and shook his head. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you, but…do you think I could get a plain burger to go…for him?” He nodded back toward the parking lot.
“I’ll take care of that for you. Is he yours?” Bertie replied softly, which was totally uncharacteristic of her.
Tyler removed his cap and ran his hands over his dark, buzz-cut hair. “I guess he is now, but…”
The front door opened and the angel chimes welcomed Amanda inside. She immediately saw Bertie standing at the counter with a customer. She waved quickly and made her way through the crowded restaurant. The only empty seat at the counter was beside the man Bertie was talking to. “Morning, Bertie! Hey, did you see that cutie in the truck out there…” She sat down on the empty stool and finally recognized Tyler when he turned to face her. “Oh, hey there! It’s you! I didn’t expect you back here until later tonight.”
Tyler grinned and shrugged; the mental fog he had been in during the drive to the café was lifting, and he knew he had to come up with a good excuse for leaving the ranch like he had. He inhaled and pursed his lips together. Amanda looked beautiful and refreshed. He looked back and forth between her and Bertie.
“I can take a hint,” Bertie mocked. “I’ll leave you two alone to talk…and I’ll get you some breakfast, Princess. Go ahead…have a seat and take a load off.”
Amanda blushed and looked at Tyler. “Okay…she’s gone, and you’re white as a ghost…what’s going on? Is everything okay at the Abbott ranch? I was going to drive to Thomasville and get a room tomorrow so that I could be closer to the action…you know…to help you with whatever needs to be done. I was going to talk to you about all this when you came back here tonight, though…”
Tyler rubbed the bridge of his nose and shook his head. “I was going to have to cancel tonight anyway, Amanda. I got a call late last night from the two investigators in charge of busting this dog-fighting ring…I’m supposed to meet with them at seven o’clock tonight. They said they had reason to believe that next week’s fight may be moved up to this Friday. Oh…and, do you remember that big, black pit-mix dog that was in the back yard the day I met you? Well…you’re not going to believe this, but, he’s locked up in a cage right now, at the Abbott ranch. Little John wants him ready to fight in the next fight…and, you’re going to think I’m crazy, but…I…watched that black dog bring a dead dog back to life about an hour or so ago…”
Bertie and Max listened from the kitchen and exchanged surprised glances with each other.
“Sam showed himself to Tyler…” Max spoke softly and smiled. “Now, that surprises me…”
“Surprises you?” Bertie whispered back loudly. “Well, it shocks the hell out of me! What are we going to do, Maximus?”
Max put an arm around his favorite naughty angel and laughed. “WE are not going to do anything, Bertie. I knew Sam’s plan to infiltrate the Abbott ranch had to be speeded up, but I’m still not sure what’s going to happen there. So…WE don’t do anything. If Sam needs our help, he’ll let us know. In the meantime, I have a feeling this whole situation is going to bring Amanda and Tyler a lot closer together.”
Bertie grinned. “Well, I’m all for that…I think…”
The two angels continued to eavesdrop on the conversation between the young couple.
Amanda’s jaw fell open and she started to say something, but then closed her mouth again. She spun the stool around and looked out toward the parking lot at the happy dog barking from what she now recognized as Tyler’s truck. “So…you’ve got Sam at the Abbott ranch, and…I assume that the eager fella in your truck is the one that Sam brought back to life?”
Amanda stood up and placed her hands on both hips. “That’s a conversation for another time…okay? Suffice it to say that…no…I am not surprised to hear this about Sam…you will find out…no, forget that, you’ve already found out…that Sam is…special.”
“Special?” Tyler nodded his head. “Okay…special…how?”
Amanda waved her hands in dismissal. “Never mind about that…I’ll tell you later, I promise, but, right now…I’m going to eat some breakfast and then you’re going to call your Dad to tell him to meet us half-way. We’re going to take that cute fella out in your truck…does he have a name…to your Dad, who will keep him safe. Then, you and I will head back to Thomasville and find me a place to stay. If you don’t mind, I would like to go with you to meet those investigators tonight.”
Tyler didn’t know what to say, but he instinctively knew that he could trust Amanda Turner completely. “I’ll call my Dad and let him know to meet us…why don’t you go ahead and eat that omelet? I’m not really hungry…” Tyler was at the front door when he turned and said, “That little guy doesn’t have a name yet…”
Amanda pulled the breakfast plate toward her and took a huge bite of the delicious omelet. She turned and watched while Tyler walked outside to his truck, petted the eager pup, and punched a number into his cell phone. Amanda grinned when the little pup jumped up and down, and washed Tyler’s face with puppy kisses. She smiled, took another bite of the omelet, and chased it with what was left of Tyler’s coffee. “I think we’ll call him Licker…” she smiled. She looked up and saw Max and Bertie grinning back at her.
Four-Footed Angels Page 12