Her Undercover Refuge

by Linda O. Johnston

  “No, sorry. I’m going to visit the small animals for a while. They might not need people to be happy, but I want to try to help them anyway.”

  Alice might have a different identity now from the Ann she used to be, but she didn’t look much different—except that now she was smiling, not crying. She still appeared middle-aged, but her light brown eyes looked happy, not bloodshot. She again wore jeans, but this time her shirt, a gray one, featured the shelter logo like everyone else’s around here.

  “Sounds good,” Nella told her. She knew enough of Alice’s background to continue suspecting, thanks to the timing, that the threat was a result of this new staff member’s coming here. But she felt certain Scott was checking into that, asking his contacts at the police department. Since no one had zeroed in on Alice or her abusive stepson, it must not be clear that he sent the threat.

  So Nella definitely considered a part of her new job to include dredging out information about other staff members whose pasts might be catching up with them.

  “We’ll talk later, okay?” Alice asked Bibi, who agreed. And Alice walked away, into the cat house, where the small shelter pets were kept in the back room.

  Nella would have to make sure the door was closed between the rooms so Alice couldn’t hear what they were saying. But that was the protocol anyway, to keep doors shut to make sure different kinds of animals didn’t mingle. And that people remained safer, too, in closed quarters.

  “Okay, kitties,” Bibi said. The smile on her round face suggested her love of cats, maybe as much as her love for the many dogs around here.

  Nella followed Bibi inside the cat house and was glad to see that the door at the far end of the rows of cat enclosures was, in fact, closed.

  “I’ve already met a few of them,” Nella told Bibi, “but not many.”

  “Which ones?” Bibi asked. She had passed the rows of benches along the wall and stopped beside the first enclosure, a large fenced-in area with several cats inside. They all appeared to ignore one another, which might be a good thing. Certainly better than if they didn’t get along, Nella thought.

  “Meower, Kitty and Blackie, I think.” Nella peered into that first enclosure to see if she recognized any of them.

  “Some of my favorites.” Bibi’s grin was as large as a Cheshire cat’s. “Here’s what we’ll do. I’ll take one cat out at a time for each of us, and we’ll sit over there.” She pointed toward the benches. “We’ll hug them for a few minutes, then put them back and get others out to hug. Okay?”

  “Great idea.” Nella hadn’t spent a lot of time in her life hugging cats, but she didn’t mind starting now, especially if it helped them get used to human contact—which could help them get adopted more easily.

  Nella sat down on the bench at her right and waited till Bibi returned with a moderate-sized black cat.

  “Is this the Blackie I met before?” Nella asked, accepting the warm, furry kitty into her arms. She held him tightly enough to tell him he wasn’t going to get the opportunity to wander around out here—after checking to ensure that he was, in fact, a he.

  “Yep. That’s the name on his collar.”

  Nella held him even more closely, enjoying his softness and his purrs, though not particularly liking the way he attempted to squeeze his way out of her arms and get away.

  Bibi sat down on the bench near her holding a silver cat around the same size whose black stripes resembled those on a tiger. “This is Nala,” she said. “She looks like an American shorthair, though I doubt any of our residents here are purebreds.”

  “She looks sweet,” Nella said. “And her name is similar to mine.”

  Bibi laughed, as she did a lot—but this time Nella decided to take advantage of their sitting here and Bibi’s good mood.

  “Just so you know, I realize I’m new here at the shelter but I want to do all I can not only to help the animals, but our staff members, too—like you. I think I can help best if I know your backgrounds, or at least as much as you’ll tell me, rather than just looking them up in the computer. Would you mind talking to me?”

  Bibi’s smile vanished, which didn’t seem a good sign. But then she said, “I understand, but I hope you understand it’s hard to talk about it—especially since it’s all in my past and I hope it stays that way.”

  “I get it,” Nella said. Blackie squirmed in her arms again and she used that as an opportunity to look away momentarily. “You won’t need to tell me your prior name or anyone else’s.” Scott would have that information anyway, if they needed it. “And I recognize that the information I’m asking for might be hard for you to talk about. But please tell me your background.”

  “Okay.” Bibi didn’t sound happy, and her round face was all but buried in the fur of the cat she held. Her legs swayed forward and back beneath the bench where she sat. “I just hate to think about it, let alone talk about it. It was...it was my ex-husband.”

  Bibi’s story was interesting, sometimes surprising. She’d come from a wealthy family, and her grandparents had left her a substantial sum of money. She had married her college sweetheart, and he’d assumed all her money was his, too. He’d started attempting to spend it, and when she stopped him he got abusive.

  “He beat me,” Bibi said, beginning to cry. “I eventually moved out and went to a lawyer and started divorce proceedings, but he came after me and found me and beat me some more, demanding that I give him at least half of my money. I think he wanted to kill me.”

  Bibi had learned about this place from a cop trying to help her. She put her sister in charge of her money, with her lawyer’s supervision. “Maybe someday I’ll be able to get at least enough of my life back that I can retrieve it from her. But for now, I just want to go on living.”

  “I get it.” Nella hoped Bibi was right about her sister. But only time would tell. “And—well, I hate to even suggest this, but is there any possibility your ex knows what you’ve done, where you are?” At Bibi’s shocked expression, Nella continued, “I’m just asking so I can be sure I provide as much protection here as you need.”

  Bibi shook her head. “If he knew about me and where I was, he’d stomp in here right away and hurt me. He’s that kind of horrible person. Act first, take consequences later.”

  Interesting, Nella thought. That possibly ruled him out as a suspect in the threat, which so far, at least, was only a text, not a barging-in ex-husband.

  “I get it,” Nella told Bibi. “If there’s anything else you think of that you haven’t told me or the other managers here, please let us know. For now—I think we have more cats to hug, right?”

  “Oh, yes,” Bibi said, and she stood up, holding Nala. “Time to take you back to your enclosure,” she said to the cat. “And pick up someone else.”

  * * *

  Walking into the Chance police station was always enjoyable for Scott, even though he didn’t belong here anymore. At least ostensibly he didn’t, despite remaining a cop who was undercover in an unusual way.

  He had put on a light jacket over his Chance Animal Shelter T-shirt and zipped it up. No need for anyone to associate him with that place while he was here—except for those, of course, who already knew his involvement.

  He’d parked on the street outside, in Chance’s small civic center, where the station was located in the middle of town. Now he walked across the entry room to the large reception desk and said hello to Officer Penny Jones, a fairly new recruit, who was on duty. She looked almost too young to be a cop, even with her blond hair pulled up in a bun at the top of her head and her dark, questioning gaze, but Scott knew she had done well in her initial training.

  He’d been working here as a cop, too, at the time.

  “Hi, Officer,” Scott said.

  “Hi, Officer,” Penny whispered back, then more loudly said, “Hello, Mr. Sherridan. How can we help you today?”

  “I’ve g
ot some questions I’d like to ask Detective Vanderhoff,” Scott said. “Could you check to see if he’s available?”

  Vince was expecting him. Scott had called before. But official police protocol suggested that he request an audience with him here.

  “Certainly.” Penny picked up the phone receiver, spoke into it in a low voice, then hung up. “He’ll be right out.”

  It only took Vince a couple of minutes to appear in the doorway to the department. As always, the highly regarded detective wore a suit, not a uniform. Scott approached him, his hand out for a shake. Vince’s grip was strong, and he peered at Scott through his large glasses and smiled. “Welcome, Mr. Sherridan.”

  “Thanks, Detective Vanderhoff.”

  “Let’s go upstairs,” Vince said. “Assistant Chief Province wants to join us.”

  That’s great, Scott thought. Vince must have told Kara about that threat the shelter had received, and Scott assumed she wanted to participate in their conversation about who might have sent it—and what they could do about it.

  “Fine.” Scott followed Vince through the door into the area where the offices were located.

  They went up to the third floor, where the offices belonged to Police Chief Andrew Shermovski, better known as Sherm, and Assistant Chief Kara Province, as well as others in charge of this police force.

  They passed Sherm’s office. The next door led to Kara’s office and Vince pushed it open. An officer in uniform whom Scott believed was Shelly Dandridge sat there, a middle-aged woman who’d served on the Bakersfield PD previously. “Go on in,” Shelly said.

  Which they did. Kara’s office was spacious. Behind her large, neat desk, his sort-of boss stood at their entrance. Slender and tall, she wore a uniform, although her black jacket hung at the back of her chair. Her hair was black and short and almost feathery, and she was both attractive and professional-looking.

  Kara immediately looked at Scott with her dark brown eyes. “Okay, have a seat, both of you. And tell me more of what this is about. I heard some from Vince already.”

  Scott nodded as both he and Vince obeyed, each choosing a tall black chair facing Kara’s desk.

  “The gist of it is that, late yesterday, we received a text message on the shelter’s office phone that’s very troubling.” Scott reached into his pocket and pulled out a note card on which he had jotted down exactly what that threatening message contained. “It said, ‘You have allowed a person to move into your hell pit of a shelter who is going to be killed. Soon. You should be more careful next time. If there is a next time.’” Scott looked up again at Kara as he put the card back into his pocket.

  “I’ve already had the number checked out,” Vince said.

  “From a burner phone, I assume,” Kara responded.

  Both Vince and Scott nodded. “Far as we can tell, it’s already out of service,” Vince said.

  “Despite that, do you have any idea who could have sent it?” Kara’s eyes were on Scott again.

  “No, although we’re more on alert now and checking deeper into the histories of the people we call our staff members—those who we’ve given new identities and are protecting at the shelter.”

  Scott would have done something about it anyway but now appreciated Nella’s querying of their residents even more.

  “Have you done any initial investigation besides checking the phone number?” This time Kara’s attention was on Vince.

  “Hasn’t been a lot of time since we heard about it, and we’re not quite sure how to approach it.” Vince didn’t sound pleased. “But we’re on it, and if either of you has any suggestions, let me know. Meanwhile, we’ve got cars patrolling the area, both marked and unmarked. Nothing seems to be happening, and we hope it stays that way.”

  “So do I, of course,” Scott said, “but I still want to find out who sent that threat. My managers and I will be doing everything to protect the shelter residents—”

  “Animals, too, I assume,” Kara interrupted wryly.

  “Animals, too,” Scott agreed.

  “Well, we have to find a solution,” Kara said—and Scott noticed how she said we although he knew that inside she meant you. She continued, once more looking at Scott. “You know we like what you’re doing there and want to do all we can to keep it going—and more. Increase the capacity and how well it protects people. But we’ve always realized that the more folks who live there, the more likely it is that what it’s all about, besides sheltering animals and taking in supposedly homeless people as volunteers, will get out to the wrong people. And apparently at least someone who shouldn’t know about the place now does.”

  “Unfortunately, that’s true,” Scott said.

  “So if word is out, then we need to do everything we can to protect the real identities of the people there—and again, someone already does know at least one of them.”

  Scott nodded. “Which makes it even more imperative that we find that person before whoever it is can make an attempt at following through on the threat to kill someone at our shelter.”

  He’d had an urge to call it his shelter, since it had been his idea. But now a lot of people—and animals—were involved.

  “I agree,” Kara said. “Vince, I’d like you to work with Scott and look into this more, okay?”

  Scott knew it was an order to the detective but nevertheless liked the way the Assistant Chief described it.

  “Of course.”

  “And Scott, you can ask Vince to come talk with the people you call your managers, or have them visit here if you think that would be of help. Your managers are the protectors on-site, right?”

  “Right. I think that’s a good idea.” Although he wished he and his managers were enough to keep the shelter adequately protected, at the moment more help would be great. “As long as that doesn’t result in word getting out even more about why and how we exist”

  “You know I’ll keep it quiet,” Vince said, sounding a bit hurt.

  “Of course,” Scott said. But he was glad he’d given Vince the reminder.

  Chapter 11

  Nella hadn’t realized before how much fun it could be just hugging cats. But she spent the rest of the morning with Bibi doing just that.

  Not that her obligations—and concern about the staff members—didn’t cross her mind even as she felt warm, soft fur against her face.

  So did thoughts of Scott. Was he learning anything helpful at the police station? Would he keep her informed?

  It seemed as if lunchtime crept up with no warning. Or at least Bibi soon told her it was time.

  “I’ll be joining Alice in our dining area,” she reminded Nella after they’d returned the latest cats they’d been playing with to their enclosures. “You can eat with us, too, if you’d like.”

  “Thanks,” Nella said. “I’ll walk with you to the building but I’m not sure what I’m doing yet.”

  She was hoping it would involve spending time with a staff member or two other than Bibi, despite the fact she liked this woman. But she wanted to find a way to spend private time with one of the others that afternoon and ask some background questions as she had with Bibi.

  Nothing had yet alleviated the fact that Nella felt compelled to check everyone out as quickly as possible in the hopes that the person who was the basis of the threat would somehow stick out so she could do what was necessary to protect him or her—as well as everyone else here.

  She exited the cat house with Bibi and Alice, who joined them from the small animal area where she’d apparently spent the entire morning. A couple other staff members—Muriel and Leonard—had eventually come into the cat house and joined Bibi and Nella in kitty hugging, but fortunately that was after Nella had completed quizzing Bibi. Leonard made it clear he preferred independent cats to demanding dogs—although he said he wanted to help them all. Leonard and Muriel had left after about half an hour
to go walk some dogs.

  Clearly, animal attention was the goal of all staff members, which was great for the shelter pets and the people, too. Dogs and cats required human attention, especially to prepare them for new forever homes.

  And spending time with animals who adored them should also help the people’s states of mind, and even their physical health, while they were here. Nella had read many articles confirming how relationships with pets could help the mental conditions of people who’d suffered traumas. She assumed the therapist who came here, according to Scott, was aware of that. Nella hoped to meet that person one of these days.

  As Nella walked with Bibi and Alice, she didn’t say much, but eavesdropped. Neither said anything, though, that sounded particularly stressed or gave Nella new ideas, either.

  The outside temperature had warmed since afternoon arrived. But Chance was in the mountains near San Luis Obispo and didn’t generally get horribly hot in August, unlike other places in Southern California.

  Still, Nella would be glad to eat inside, and air-conditioning could be turned on if the temperature rose too much.

  She followed the other women to the handwashing station before they entered the dining area. The long table where breakfast had been served was now laden with lunch foods, cold cuts and salad, where staff members and managers could help themselves.

  Nella realized, though, that she needed time to find a grocery store in town to buy supplies for her apartment. It was better for her to eat with the residents to help keep them safe, but she might have some time when it would make sense to eat alone, or at least grab some snacks.

  Right now, she needed to determine which staff member would be the focus of her queries that afternoon.

  She got into the short line at the table behind Bibi and Alice. Almost immediately, Warren came up behind her. “Great spread, isn’t it?” the senior staff member asked.

  Nella looked at him, wondering if he was serious. Certainly, sandwich fixings were adequate, but she hardly considered them great.