Four-Footed Angels

by J. T. Livingston

  Tyler took a few moments to enjoy the view of Amanda making her way up the long staircase to her room. He waited until she closed her apartment door before he exited his truck and walked to the café. He couldn’t help but wonder if what Amanda said had any truth to it, or if she had simply been rambling; but, he found himself giving second thoughts to her reticent reference to the workers of the Heavenly Grille being angels! Tyler exhaled deeply before he opened the café’s door. “Well, that would certainly explain a lot of things…” he sighed.

  The first person he saw was Bertie standing at the counter, in animate conversation with one of the truckers. The halo headband she always wore bounced happily atop her head.

  29. Tyler Reports to Little John

  It was a little after four o’clock when Tyler left the Heavenly Grille Café to return to the Abbott ranch. He had assured Max that the three dogs he and Amanda had delivered to the Foster Farm were already enjoying their newfound freedom and surroundings. They spoke briefly about the newly devised plan to rescue the investigators, and the necessity to move up the time frame for busting the dog-fighting ring. The success of both plans depended greatly on how well an actor Tyler proved to be once he was face-to-face with Little John Abbott again.

  Tyler smiled to himself as he pulled out of the café’s parking lot. He looked in his rearview mirror and saw that Bertie still stood at the door, waving good-bye to him. He watched as the sun glinted off the corny halo headband, and blinked rapidly to reassure himself that he had not seen the rest of her body become engulfed in a soft, golden glow. He squeezed his mouth, hard, between his thumb and forefinger. “Great…now I’m hallucinating…goes to show you the tricks your brain can play on you when you go this long without sleep.” He took a final glance at Bertie before he turned left onto the highway. The glow that he thought he had seen was gone, so it was easy to convince himself that it had simply been the late afternoon sun and shadows that had made Bertie’s body appear to emanate a golden light. “Maybe I should have asked for another one of her refreshment sessions…”

  Tyler drove under the speed limit the entire way back to the Abbott ranch, to give himself some time to think about everything that had happened within the past week…Spartacus running away last Friday night, meeting Amanda Turner on Monday, finding Sam sitting on the highway on Tuesday, Spartacus returning to the ranch on Wednesday, witnessing the resurrection of a dead dog and learning that Sam could be an angel dog, learning the true identity of the two cousins beaten and locked in a tiny cabin on the Abbott ranch, and…rescuing another three bait dogs who looked amazingly more healthy on Thursday than they had the day before.

  “Damn…” he sighed. “Ever since Amanda came into my life, everything seems to be on fast forward.” He was talking to himself, but he needed to do this in order to mentally sort through these past events. “I feel like I’ve known her all my life, but, hell…it’s only been, what…FOUR days…not only does she have me believing that we’re going to be married one day…but she now has me wondering if an ordinary café, located in the middle of nowhere, is run by angels…”

  The sound of a blaring horn jolted his attention back to the road. The driver of that car looked irritable when he honked at him a second time and shared an obscene finger gesture when he sped around Tyler’s truck. Tyler looked down at the speedometer; he was surprised to see that he had only been going 30 MPH in a 55 MPH zone. He rubbed the bridge of his nose and lifted his shoulders in a shrug. “Sorry…”

  _____

  It was almost five-thirty before Tyler finished up at the Econo Lodge. He had to go dumpster diving to retrieve the keys to the rental car, but he was lucky that the bin had been fairly empty and he had been able to locate the keys before anyone saw him digging around in the dumpster. He used the eraser/door opener that Amanda had used earlier to open the door to Room 109, wiped down any areas that he and Amanda may have touched, and loaded all the men’s personal belongings into the trunk of the rental car. He drove his own truck two blocks down the street and parked it in the parking lot of a busy diner, and walked back to the motel to retrieve the rental vehicle.

  Although the cool air felt comfortable against his sweating skin, Tyler could not suppress the shiver that traveled up and down his spine when he thought about what he had to do next. He used the 20-minute ride back to the Abbott ranch to gather his thoughts. Max had advised him to have Sam with him whenever he talked to Little John; even though Tyler could not fathom why, he decided that it might not be a bad idea after all. Sam might be able to provide enough of a distraction from the conversation to enable Tyler to actually pull off the performance.

  He pulled in to the Abbott ranch and drove directly to the training area. Several crew members were there, loading the bodies of dead-to-almost-dead bait dogs into one of the dump trucks. Tyler cringed when he heard a weak yelp come from a large shepherd that was the last dog to be tossed into the truck. “Dear, God…” he whispered, “Please let this all be over with soon…please be with these dogs, Lord…welcome them Home and make them healthy and whole again…”

  Bubba watched Tyler pull alongside the dump truck. He removed his cap and spit a wad of chewing tobacco onto the hood of the rental car. “What are you doing with that car, Jones? Clint said you were supposed to dispose of it…he ain’t gonna be happy to see that you couldn’t handle a simple task like that.”

  Tyler fought the urge to drive his fist into the fat man’s gut. “I didn’t get that order from Clint, so that’s no real concern of his…or yours, Bubba. What’s going on here?” He looked over at the cages that held Spartacus and Sam, and was immediately relieved to see them both still there.

  “What the hell does it look like?” Bubba sneered and spat another wad; this one almost hit the toe of Tyler’s boot. “While you’ve been out taking it easy today, some of us have been training Czar and getting him ready for his fight tomorrow night.”

  Tyler looked over at the dump trunk before one of the crew raised the tail gate. He estimated there to be at least a dozen bodies piled on top of one another. He saw several bags of quicklime in the bed of the truck, too. “The pit is getting full again…” he said, trying to fight the lump that had formed in his throat.

  “We’ll use the quicklime for now,” Bubba retorted. “We’ll have plenty of time this weekend to burn down what’s in there...don’t suppose you want to come help us with that, do you, pretty boy?”

  Tyler stared back, in silence, long enough for Bubba to have the good grace to snort and leave with the other workers. “Stupid, red-neck…” he grimaced as he watched the dump truck barrel down the dirt road toward the burning pit. He took a deep breath and walked the hundred yards to the cages that held the two black pittie mixes. He couldn’t help but wonder about the similarity between the two animals. Sam was the larger of the two, no doubt; he outweighed Spartacus by a good twenty pounds. Other than their weight and the battle scars that Spartacus wore, the only difference between the two dogs was their eyes. He knelt down in front of their cages and reached his hands in to pet both dogs. He looked into the eyes of Spartacus and saw a life time of pain, abuse, and sadness. He looked into the eyes of Sam and saw hope, love, determination, and…Tyler shook his head and looked more intently at Sam.

  The angel dog’s eye color changed quickly from a brown-black, to an amber-gold, and back to a brown-black; and, Sam appeared to be smiling at him!

  _____

  “I may do a lot of things,” the dyed blond with heavy makeup snarled, “But, you can’t pay me enough money to do that!” She slung her pocket book over her shoulder, while simultaneously buttoning-up the shear white blouse that she wore. The cooler October air provided sufficient evidence that she wore nothing beneath the top. “I’ve been hearing stories from some of the other girls, about you, John Abbott…you can bet your sweet ass that nobody else will be stupid enough to ride out here to service your sick needs!”

  The door handle was jerked from Tyler’s grasp; the d
yed blond bolted in front of him and ran to her car. She looked back at Tyler and said, “You’re crazier than he is if you have anything to do with that sicko!”

  Sam sat at Tyler’s side but turned to watch the woman leave. “Evil deeds spurn evil results…whatever did you expect, lady?” He looked up at Tyler and nudged him forward.

  Tyler could have sworn that the dog was smiling again!

  Little John’s arrival at the front door caught Tyler off guard. He never heard the big man approaching.

  “Jones,” he said, looking at his watch. “You made it…with fifteen minutes to spare, no less. Come on in…wait a minute…why is that dog with you?”

  Tyler looked down at Sam and fought the urge to rub the dog’s head. He motioned toward the rental vehicle, where Spartacus sat in the driver’s seat, waiting patiently. “I thought I’d get someone to drive me back to town to get my truck, and then take these two to the woods…to do some hunting…killing wild game really seems to stir up a dog’s juices before a big fight.”

  “Really…to hunt?” Little John shook his head as an indication to ignore Tyler’s explanation. He motioned toward the rental car. “Your instructions were to get rid of that car…” He turned to walk away. “Get in here and tell me what you found out about those two cousins…and chain that mutt up outside.”

  Sam arose and stood proudly. He uttered a single, low growl and strutted into the house. His nails clicked softly against the slate flooring in the foyer.

  Little John turned around abruptly and said, “I told you to chain him up outside…”

  Sam took two steps forward and growled again. He bared his teeth and took two more steps toward Little John.

  Tyler hooked the dog’s collar with the thick leash he had brought with him. “Sorry, Boss…I didn’t want to leave him alone in the car with Spartacus, and I didn’t want to take the chance of him breaking free of the leash if I chained him outside. I’ve got control of him. He won’t bother you.”

  Abbott grunted and moved his hand to the side holster that was always at his hip. “Trust me, boy. I know how to control him myself if I need to.” He sat down in one of the two large sitting chairs provided in the foyer area. “Sit down, Jones…I’ve been waiting for your report.” He looked at his watch again. “You believe in cutting it close, don’t you?”

  Tyler swallowed hard and prepared to present the information that his father and the authorities had deemed necessary. They knew that Little John was too smart for anything other than the truth. In fact, they were hoping that the truth would shock him enough to allow them the time they needed to make the final preparations for busting one of the largest dog-fighting rings ever to have formed in the southeastern United States.

  Tyler removed the two identification cards from his back pocket and handed them to Little John. “Their real names are Tim Breydan and Ross Taylor, and…they are not cousins.”

  30. The Attraction Becomes Real

  Bubba received the order to dispose of the rental car and to drive Tyler into town to retrieve his truck; chauffeuring Tyler and the two pit-bulls was a task that Bubba had not appreciated, and Tyler felt his silent ire and loathing during the short ride.

  Tyler cringed when Bubba dropped him off; he thought, for sure, that Bubba would burn the rubber off all four tires when he pulled out of the parking lot where Tyler had parked his truck. He quickly opened the passenger doors and watch while Sam claimed the front seat, and Spartacus willingly hopped into the smaller back seat. He spent the next five minutes trying to regain his ability to exhale and breathe. He thought he had pulled it off…convincing Little John not to immediately kill the investigators; but, a tiny voice inside him wondered if Little John had not seen through his lies, and had secretly told Bubba to get rid of Tyler and the dogs. He knew that Little John would visit the men in the cabin before the night was over and dangle the truth before their eyes. Tyler wished he could be there for that meeting; he wished that he could somehow reassure Tim and Ross that he had not betrayed them. Most of all, he wanted to tell them not to lose faith, and that help was on the way. However, he knew that he couldn’t take the chance of visiting the cabin alone and risking his cover being blown.

  He looked at the two dogs and grinned. “Looks like we did it, fellas…we really did it. Now all we have to do is hold steady for another twenty-four hours or so. I don’t know about the two of you, but I will be glad for all of this to be over.”

  Sam looked back and winked at Spartacus who had stretched out across the back seat. Sam leaned his head out of the open window and closed his eyes. “The breeze feels great, Spartacus. Nothing makes a dog feel so free as to feel the wind blowing in his face and sitting beside someone who loves them. Let me know if you want to change positions…”

  Spartacus lifted his head and cast a sideway glance at Tyler. “That’s okay, Sam…I’m good back here. You know…I really like Tyler…do you think he’ll miss me when I’m gone?”

  Sam looked back at his canine friend and tilted his head. “What makes you think you’re going anywhere, my friend?”

  Spartacus wrinkled his brows together and crossed his front paws. “But I thought that’s why I was brought back to the Abbott ranch…I thought I was going to have to be a last sacrifice before the good guys catch the bad guys…”

  Sam poked his head back out the window and closed his eyes again. “You have nothing to fear, Spartacus. I will be with you the entire time, and…I will not allow any harm to come to you. You have suffered enough in your short life. God will see to it that you live out the remainder of your time here on earth with someone who loves and appreciates you.”

  Spartacus lay his head on top of his paws and closed his eyes. “I sure hope you’re right about that, Sam…I sure hope you’re right…”

  _____

  Bertie and Doug had left the café around seven o’clock to visit Amos. Amanda had told them about Isabelle Ghent and was looking forward to their feedback about the woman. She had convinced Bertie that she should go along with Doug and not to worry about the customers; Amanda assured her that she and Max could handle the dinner crowd long enough for them to visit Amos.

  The dinner crowd had thinned out considerably by eight-thirty, and there were only three of their regular truckers sitting at the counter talking to Max. Amanda was wiping down the tables and topping off the containers of condiments. She smiled when she heard the truckers trying to persuade Max to sing them one of his old-time gospel songs.

  Max knew the words to almost every old gospel song of the past fifty years and one of his favorites had always been, “Grandma’s Rocking Chair.” He held up his hand to silence the burly truckers and said, “I’ll be glad to sing for you, fellas, but only if you sing along with me. Wait right here.” He disappeared into the kitchen and when he came back out he passed out sheets of paper to the three men sitting at the counter. “I figured y’all might not know all the words, so I keep a supply of my favorites in the back office. Get ready now…”

  The truckers all cleared their throats and Amanda sat down in the booth closest to the front door to listen to them. She had heard Max sing this particular song many times before, so she already knew the words.

  Max’s deep, out-of-tune, baritone slowly began to reverberate throughout the café as he closed his eyes and began the first verse.

  The truckers were all a little uncomfortable at first but were quick to join in, with gusto, when it was time for the chorus.

  Max, the truckers, and Amanda all joined in for two more rounds of the chorus. None of them had seen or heard Tyler enter the café. He stood at the door with a broad grin on his face. He waited for them to finish and began clapping in earnest. “Man, that sounded great! I love that old song. It’s been years since I heard it…as a matter of fact, I think my Grandma was the last one to sing it in our house…brings back some good memories…”

  Amanda stood up and walked over to him. She put her arm through his and said, “Well, hey there, you. I w
as hoping you would find your way back here tonight.” She whispered her next words. “How did it go? Did Abbott believe you?”

  Tyler looked down at the perky blonde who had hooked arms with him. Something felt so right about it…about her. “I’ll tell you everything when we can all sit down and talk, okay?”

  Amanda nodded. “Sure thing…hey, are you hungry? Max cooked smothered pork chops and fried cabbage tonight. There’s a pan of biscuits left over, too. Want me to fix you a plate?”

  Tyler nodded. “Sure, thanks…uh…where’s Bertie?”

  Amanda led him to the counter and introduced him to the three truckers who were finishing their last cup of coffee with their desserts of homemade banana pudding. “She and Doug went to visit Amos, so I volunteered to hold down the fort for her while they’re gone.”

  “You?” Tyler grinned.

  Amanda planted her hands on her small but shapely hips. “I’ll have you know that I know my way around a restaurant. Don’t forget that I worked here for a while before I moved back home to become one of Tampa’s finest!”

  Max had already gone into the kitchen to fix Tyler a plate. He came out carrying a platter filled with three, thick pork chops covered in a rich brown, onion gravy, four biscuits, and a large serving bowl full of steaming, fried cabbage that had been flavored with pepper-bacon. “Have a seat, Tyler. You look like you need this.” Max grinned at him and motioned for him to sit in Amos’ vacant seat at the counter. “I don’t think Amos will mind if you use his seat.”