Her Undercover Refuge
Page 2
“I’ll show you this first,” Scott said. Nella grinned when he walked them down the wide hallway lined with closed doors, to its end, where, before another door, there were fenced-in enclosures containing dogs. A couple barked at them.
Whatever else it might be, this definitely was an animal shelter.
Each enclosure contained different sizes of dogs. Nearest the door were two small ones. Next was an area with three medium-sized ones, with one larger one toward the back. Nella figured this was mostly to show people coming in, since there were likely to be larger areas containing more dogs, as well as other pets, beyond that door. Of course each enclosure contained water and food bowls and dog beds, and the floors were all tiled like the waiting room, the easier for cleaning, she assumed.
Scott didn’t stop to introduce either Ann or her to the dogs, though. “Thought you’d want to see this, but let’s go back,” he said.
He turned and they followed him nearly to where they had entered the hall.
“Here, Nella.” Scott pushed open a door on the left. “As I said, Ann and I are going to have a little discussion first, but I’ll come back to talk to you here soon.” He gestured for Nella to go inside.
Which she did. She understood what he was up to, or believed she did, but wished she could participate in his initial inquisition of Ann to see what she really wanted, and if she was qualified to be one of the people housed here. Still, since Nella wasn’t yet one of those who helped to take care of those people, and might never be, it wouldn’t be appropriate for her to join them.
Even so, it hurt. But it also added to her desire to do a good job of talking to Scott later.
So for now, she entered a small conference room that had a table surrounded by chairs. She pulled one of the austere chairs out and sat on it. She extracted her phone from her purse, checked for emails and searched to see if there was any more news about the LAPD and the situation that had caused her to leave the job there.
Nothing new. So, she next looked up the Chance Animal Shelter, as she had many times recently, and read once more about the many kudos for the wonderful place up in the mountains near San Luis Obispo that helped to save so many needy animals.
And let her mind wander around to how it also, covertly, apparently saved a lot of needy people.
* * *
Scott couldn’t help feeling a bit perturbed that his interview with Nella had been delayed by the appearance of this clearly distressed woman, Ann. He had been looking forward to talking to the former LAPD officer who had sent in an application for a managerial job at his shelter.
Her credentials looked good. Real good. And he had checked her references, which were excellent, most from other cops he knew of and respected.
The delay wouldn’t affect his impression of her background. But his initial thoughts remained on Nella as he led Ann into another of the interview rooms on the first floor of the Chance Animal Shelter reception building.
He supposed he could add Nella’s response to the wait to the list of things he needed to consider before offering her a job.
“So, here we are,” he said to Ann, gesturing to the obviously stressed woman to sit on a chair at the table in the middle of the compact and stark room. It was a good place to interview potential pet adopters while bringing in the dogs, cats or whatever they’d expressed interest in and watching their mutual reactions. It worked even better for interviewing potential “staff” members—those people who came here not only to be hired to help with the animals, but also to acquire new, safer identities and hide from people who tormented them in their real lives.
Was that the situation with Ann?
She remained standing until he took a seat and again gestured to her to join him. Appearing quite tense, she obeyed, sitting straight in the chair and staring at him with her moist brown eyes.
“So how did you hear about this shelter?” was Scott’s first question, as it often was.
“I... I have a new friend who lived—worked—here for a while. She just moved to near where I live, and—”
“Which is where?” Scott interrupted. He wondered who she was talking about but assumed she would say.
“Santa Maria. And the friend is Edna Short. I figured you’d want to know that.”
“Yes, I do. Thank you.” Scott recalled that Edna Short was the name they had given to Babs Morgan, who had been at the shelter for about a month right after it opened. She’d chosen to leave after her abusive stepfather was arrested in Arizona for assault and battery on another woman, but wanted to stay as far as possible from the guy’s radar as she could for the rest of her life. Hence, the new, retained identity.
Scott would reserve judgment whether to be angry with Edna, and perhaps contact her to warn her not to mention the place ever again, until he had heard Ann’s story and determined whether Edna had merely done an endangered friend a favor by telling her about it.
“Edna,” Ann continued, “well, we met where I worked at a coffee shop. She became a server, too, and was there when my stepson came in a few times and—” her eyes teared up even more “—he hit me there, in front of everyone. My husband was even with him some of the times. I’d tried to stop him, to convince my husband to help, to tell him I wasn’t stealing his money. Even got the police involved, but, but...”
“But you needed more help than you were able to find. I understand. And it was good that Edna suggested us.”
Maybe. But Scott would still contact Edna—carefully, of course—and confirm that Ann was who and what she claimed to be.
“We may be able to offer you a position here,” he continued, choosing not to be overly encouraging until he knew more. “Right now, I’ll send in one of our managers to talk with you and get additional information.”
Which would give him a chance to go talk to Nella, whom he was supposed to be interviewing.
“Thank you.” Ann sounded almost breathless. “And—”
“And?” he encouraged when she stopped talking.
“And—well, could I get to see some of your animals up close?”
Which made Scott smile. Ann just might be a good fit.
“We’ll ask the manager who comes to see you to introduce you to some,” he said, then stood to leave the room.
Chapter 2
Not a lot of time had passed since Nella had been shown into this room to wait, but she was getting antsy nevertheless.
Her mind kept circulating on questions she wanted to ask about the facility and those who lived or just worked here, even about the animals who were brought in to be cared for.
And would she enjoy talking with Scott as much as she anticipated? Not that her enjoyment of that conversation would be paramount in determining whether she would work here.
But it might help.
Scott would interview her, though her questions might suggest an interview of him, too. There was a lot she wanted to know. But he would be the person who would ultimately decide if she’d be offered a job—and what it would consist of.
Her anticipation was driving her nuts. She really wanted to get this conversation over with.
But if it didn’t go well—
The door finally opened. Nella had been pacing near the chairs. Now she stared at the open door, wishing she was seated, nonchalantly studying her phone or otherwise not appearing to care too much about what was to come.
“Hi again, Nella.” Scott strode into the room. He was followed by a woman who appeared to be around Nella’s age, thirty-three, but instead of being dressed up, as Nella was, the other woman wore jeans and a red T-shirt with a large red-and-brown Chance Animal Shelter logo in the middle that resembled the one on Scott’s work shirt.
Since Telma had been wearing a similar T-shirt in green, Nella assumed that was a standard uniform around this place, although Scott’s and Telma’s shirts indicated they were managers
.
Wearing that kind of shirt would be fine with her if she started working here.
“Hi,” Nella responded. “And hi to you, too,” she said to the woman.
“Hi back.” A wide grin lit her round face, revealing a gap between her front teeth. “I’m Bibi. I work here. Would you like some coffee or tea while you talk to Scott?” She leaned closer before Nella could respond. “He’s a nice guy,” she added softly, as if revealing a big secret.
That remains to be seen, Nella thought, but said, “I’m sure he is. And I’d love some black coffee, if that’s possible.”
“Yep, it’s possible. See you in a minute.” And Bibi left the room.
Nella laughed, sitting down and looking up at Scott. “Okay, Mr. Nice Guy. How about showing me how correct Bibi is.”
“Looks like I’ve got a challenge ahead.” Scott appeared to struggle not to smile in return. “But I’m up to it.”
I’ll just bet you are, Nella thought. Before he started asking questions, though, Nella had some burning ones of her own. “How’s Ann?” she asked.
“She’s doing fine, as far as I can tell.” Scott settled down in the chair across the table from Nella as she sat, too. He regarded her with blue eyes that appeared to try to permeate her mind and determine what she was thinking.
“Good. And is she—does she want to be—one of the people who...well, helps to take care of animals? Or—”
“Yes, we’re possibly going to bring her in as a staff member. That’s what we call our helpers who also get our help, if that’s what you’re asking. They act like volunteers at other shelters but to the outside world, since they also get room and board, we claim that we’re hiring some homeless people who help us—but we reveal nothing more about their backgrounds. Certainly not the truth, that they’re staying here under our protection. We don’t stress the homeless part, either, to avoid getting a bunch at our door. Is that what you thought?”
Nella nodded, feeling her lips curve into another small smile. “Yes. And—well, did Ann know already the kinds of services you provide to people, and not just animals?”
Scott nodded, his eyes now studying her face as she studied his. “Yes, she did.”
“How?” Nella realized she’d blurted the word, but she was curious. From what she had heard, the underlying function of the shelter, and its primary reason for existing, was generally one big secret. Only those involved with running it or referring potential residents here, or those who otherwise needed to know, were told this wasn’t just a sanctuary for animals or for homeless people, but mostly for people fleeing horrible situations in their lives. Of course, others probably found out about it, too, and she wondered how they were also encouraged to keep it secret.
“First,” Scott said, “what do you think the Chance Animal Shelter is all about?” He leaned toward her over the table and stared once more, with his flashing blue eyes, into her face. His expression seemed chilly now, yet inquisitive. Very inquisitive.
“I assume it’s okay to talk about it here, on-site, and with its director?” Nella made that a question.
Scott nodded. “Good start. It tells me you’re aware of our covert nature.”
“If the little I’ve heard is true, then yes, I am.”
“Okay. So tell me, what’s our real primary purpose?”
It was an amazing purpose. That was why Nella had come here to flee, not necessarily her job as a cop, but some of the unanticipated results of an assignment to help bring down a street gang.
“Saving endangered people from their horrible lives,” she said. “A program that lets those people get away from what—mostly who—is hurting them, obtain new identities, stay here in protective custody for a while, then eventually go somewhere other than Chance and start all over.”
Nella noticed Scott nodding throughout her description. “You got it,” he said as she finished. “And you were right that it’s a highly covert undertaking. Hardly anyone is encouraged to talk about it.” He paused. “So how did you hear about us?” He again leaned toward her, hands clasped together in the middle of the table, and continued staring at her. The face she’d considered amazingly handsome before still looked good, but was almost scary in its intensity.
What would he do if she told him she had heard about this place in some manner he disapproved of?
He probably wouldn’t offer her a job, which was bad enough. But would he allow her to leave? And if not, what would happen to her?
Okay, she was undoubtedly worrying over nothing. And how she’d heard about this place was through a channel that was permitted.
She hoped.
She forced herself to smile at him. “I think it was through an appropriate source. As you know from my résumé, I was an officer with the Los Angeles Police Department. I... After some situations that I found difficult to deal with, I rethought where I wanted to go with my career and...well, mentioned that to my superior officer, Deputy Chief Daniel Poreski.” Did Scott know him? Was Dan entitled to know about this shelter? Since Scott didn’t react, Nella continued. “He’d heard of the Chance Shelter, mentioned it to me with an immediate caveat not to talk about it to anyone else and gave me a brief rundown of what you’re about. I tried to check it out but—well, you’re good at keeping things covert. That’s when I tried contacting you, asked about a job, explained—”
“Explained your background and that you hoped to work with saving animals and more. Yes, I was the one to read your introductory email.”
Nella had figured that was true, since he’d been the one to respond, to tell her what a wonderful pet sanctuary this was, to say in his email that they were always looking for excellent managerial staff—as well as finding ways to bring in more beings who needed help.
Somehow, the implication was there that beings, as he used the word, included more than pets, although no absolute confirming statement was made.
After her next response asking for more information about any open positions, he had requested her résumé and some references. She had used Dan as a reference, plus a few other cops Dan suggested whom she knew well and he trusted. Apparently Scott had liked them, since this visit and interview were the result.
When they had talked to schedule her visit here, Scott had never come right out and confirmed that this place helped people in real need. But he hadn’t exactly denied it, either. He’d told her to come and see for herself.
Well, here she was.
She wanted to know more, of course. See the place. Talk to people, not only animals, and—
A knock sounded on the door but it opened before anyone responded. Bibi walked in, juggling a couple of mugs that had the Chance Animal Shelter logo on them.
Apparently, promoting the place’s name that described it as an animal shelter was important around here. Well, if she stayed, Nella would be glad to help.
“Here you are.” Bibi placed a mug on the table in front of Nella.
As she circled the table to hand the other one to Scott, Nella took a sip. Definitely black coffee and definitely tasty. “This is good,” she said. “Thanks, Bibi.”
“You’re welcome.” She seemed to hesitate, then said, “So, since you’re still here and no animals are...?” Her tone turned into a question.
“We’re having a discussion now,” Scott said. “And if you hope to see more of Nella, you’d better give us some time to talk.”
“Sure,” Bibi said, but her gaze assessed Nella. “Do I want to see more of you?”
Feeling somewhat amused despite being put on the spot, Nella responded, “I love animals, and that’s not all. So, sure, we should become friends.” And since Nella gathered that Bibi was a staff member under protection and not a manager, she figured she might actually help Bibi if she wound up getting hired.
“Got it. Well, I’m out of here.” After sending another gap-toothed smile in Nella
’s direction, Bibi exited through the door.
Nella, also smiling, looked at Scott. He, too, had a grin on his good-looking face. “We do get some interesting people here,” he said.
“I see that,” Nella said, then, after hesitating, asked, “So why is Bibi here?”
Scott’s expression chilled. “You’ll learn eventually if I wind up hiring you,” he said. “It’s time for me to start asking the questions. Okay?”
“Definitely okay.” Nella ignored the tremor of unease that slid through her.
* * *
Before beginning, Scott took a long sip of coffee, watching Nella. He hadn’t expected her to be so gorgeous. She suddenly looked worried, as well she should. Yes, he intended to conduct an inquisition.
Things about her looked good, sure—and not just her lovely face. Her skin was light and smooth, her lips wide and shining in a pale pink shade that didn’t appear spoiled by lipstick. Her hair was dark and shoulder-length and enhanced by her arched, matching brows over deep brown eyes.
Right now, those brows were contracted in a scowl.
Well, he should possibly be scowling, too. Was it a good thing that she was here—and knew whatever it was she knew?
The Chance Animal Shelter had been in existence for not quite a year, but word was getting out to the law enforcement community regarding what it really was about.
Scott couldn’t control everyone who learned about it, but he did find appropriate contacts in different police and sheriff’s departments and let them know, in case they wound up having people in their jurisdictions who needed the kind of help and protection this shelter provided. But he also made it clear that the reality of this place was highly confidential and it needed to remain that way to stay effective.
Deputy Chief Dan Poreski of the LAPD was one of the people Scott knew of who’d been told about this shelter—and one of the few people in that department Scott had authorized to know about it.