Her Undercover Refuge

by Linda O. Johnston

  Still... “That’s fine, as long as we check on everyone who’s eating in the dining area first, then check on them again later, too.”

  “You’re really getting into this protectiveness stuff, aren’t you?” Scott’s tone sounded teasing, but the look he leveled on her appeared appreciative.

  “Of course,” she said. “I’m here, aren’t I? And I’m sure you’d say you’re even a whole lot more protective than I am.”

  “Yep, I’d say that,” he said. “And it’s true.” He winked at her, which nearly made her laugh, but instead she kept her face blank.

  “Maybe,” she said, “and maybe I’m a lot more protective than you.”

  “We can argue about it over dinner,” he said. “Right now, like you said, let’s go visit the eating area to make sure all’s okay. I was planning to anyway, since I intend to propose a toast. I’ve already left a few bottles of wine there.”

  All seemed fine in the dining area, Nella was glad to note. She checked the long tables where people sat, as well as those where others were just getting their food, and counted faces.

  The staff members were all there, which was a good thing, as well as Telma and Camp. Telma, who stood near the food table, was helping to serve things, although, since she’d been with them at the adoption, she couldn’t have been the one who’d cooked. Nella assumed it was Sara but wasn’t going to ask. They’d already settled on some kind of routine long before she arrived here.

  Telma’s gaze landed on Scott, and she waved a serving fork in his direction. “We’ve got some good turkey tonight,” she called.

  “Thanks, but I’ll pass.” Scott had approached the serving table, with Nella following. He joined Telma behind the table and talked loudly, this time so others could hear. “I want you all to join me in a toast to this shelter and to all of us, and today’s great dog adoptions.” To Telma, he said, “I’ll get the wine from where I left it under the serving table, and I’d appreciate it if you’d bring out some glasses.”

  Which she did.

  Scott popped into the kitchen and returned to where the tables were, holding a corkscrew. A couple bottles of wine—both red—were open in a minute. Scott poured small amounts into the glasses, and Telma, Sara and Bibi took charge of making sure everyone got a glass.

  Scott raised a glass after everyone else had been served. “To the Chance Animal Shelter,” he said loudly. “And to all our staff members and our managers and of course our animal residents. And this evening, I’m adding a toast to our adopters of the day, and to Shupe and Herman. May they all have wonderful lives together, and may the rest of us also have the best of futures here at the shelter and, possibly, otherwise.”

  He lifted his glass higher, and everyone else lifted theirs, too. “Hear, hear,” resounded through the crowd, then Scott took a sip.

  So, then, did Nella. She wasn’t a wine connoisseur, but she liked its sweet yet tart berry flavor. She wondered whether Scott had brought a bottle to his apartment for them to taste later. She hoped so—although the last thing she wanted was to start feeling high. She wouldn’t want to use that as some kind of excuse to herself to make advances toward Scott, or to react favorably if he began making advances to her.

  That just couldn’t happen.

  She took a few more sips as Scott and the others did, too. Then Scott said, “Hey, everyone. Nella and I are going to leave now. We won’t be joining you for dinner. There are still some procedures I need to tell her about—like more about our adoptions. And now that I’m living in an apartment here for a while, I thought we’d go over it there.”

  “You two, in private.” That was Warren. He sat at a nearby table and was clearly quite a character. Nella made herself smile at the implications, ignoring that the thought had crossed her mind, too.

  “If you’re being suggestive, it’s a great idea.” Nella’s turn to talk to the crowd. “Only, if any of you pop in to watch the fun, you’ll be disappointed since we’ll just be discussing those procedures Scott mentioned.”

  “Darn,” Warren said.

  And in fact, Nella found herself pleased but a little disappointed, too, when their dinner in Scott’s apartment was, in fact, totally professional. First, they stopped at his place to pick up the food and other supplies he had obtained for her and brought them to her apartment. Quite a few, including paper products and basic food such as cheese and crackers.

  Then they returned to his apartment. Whatever else he had picked up for himself, he had also bought the fixings for chicken Alfredo and a salad, which they ate at the small table in the living room area. They also had wine from a bottle he had kept for himself.

  All they did that evening was talk about the shelter and its policies for bringing in new staff members and adopting out pets, and the fact Scott hadn’t gotten any more information after his friend the detective investigated the threatening text.

  It was enjoyable being in Scott’s presence, of course. And Nella knew and appreciated that it was necessary for them to talk about all the issues and any information and suggestions Scott had for dealing with them.

  The most potentially helpful news was that a police K-9 officer would patrol the area and visit soon, and also had a senior K-9 in mind to begin living in the shelter.

  Which reminded Nella again about how she had observed some K-9 training while with the LAPD. Maybe she should try it here to improve how the dogs were taught to obey, even before the pretrained K-9 joined them.

  The dinner Scott prepared—with her help—might not have been gourmet fare, but it was tasty. And, though Nella tried not to dwell on it, the company certainly made it special.

  As the evening drew to a close, they did as they’d discussed before and went downstairs, first to the now-empty dining area, then outside, where none of the staff members were walking around. They were probably all back in their apartments, as they should be.

  There was, in fact, one more fun outcome. Scott, gentleman and protector that he was, walked her back to her apartment and waited while she used her keycard to open the door. Then he came inside and walked through the place to make sure all was in order.

  As he prepared to leave, he closed that door, took Nella into his arms, and said, “Well, no one took you up on your offer to come and check on us, so—” He pulled her tightly against him. So tightly that she could feel that he was aroused—as was she.

  Their kiss was the hottest yet—but went no further. “See you in the morning,” Scott said, his voice raspy.

  “Yes,” she said as her mind churned on the possibility of inviting him to stay—not for the whole night, but a little longer. But her common sense took over, and she pulled away, hoping her reluctance didn’t show. “See you in the morning.”

  * * *

  Leaving Nella there on her own was right, of course. Scott refused to allow any disappointment into his mind—and ignored how his body had reacted when he’d been with her. Bad move, no matter how enjoyable it was. He was her boss.

  He went back to his apartment, finished cleaning up after their meal and turned on the television, where he channel-surfed, mostly looking for news. Not that anything related to the threat would appear. But he hoped for some further ideas to investigate it.

  Nothing.

  And so he took a walk around the shelter to ensure its security. Alone.

  He figured Nella would be doing the same, if she hadn’t already.

  It wouldn’t have hurt for them to do it together—except the together part. Better that they do it separately, as long as all seemed well. Which it did. If he’d seen any indication it wouldn’t be safe for her, let alone the others in their apartments or even the animals in their enclosures, he would have acted to stop it.

  And soon he went to bed. Also alone. But, despite all his good sense, wishing Nella was there, too.

  Bad idea, in some ways, for them to be sleeping s
o close, yet so far away.

  Chapter 13

  Nella got up a few times that night, put on some outer clothes and visited the shelter area after strolling the floor where the apartments were, including hers.

  Everything had seemed fine. No other people out and about. And even though she felt certain Scott was doing the same thing now and then, she didn’t see him, and she didn’t call to ask.

  In the morning, she woke fairly early, showered and put on her clothes for the day—including a light blue Chance Animal Shelter T-shirt, which she loved.

  She figured some people might already be out walking dogs this early. That could be a good thing, particularly if she could latch on to someone she hadn’t yet interviewed to learn their story. On the other hand, though she wanted to keep her momentum up, she didn’t need to quiz residents each time she got together with one of them.

  Though if she did, she’d get the information she needed faster...

  In the shelter area, Nella saw a couple of people walking dogs far ahead of her, toward the end of the path, but she went into the second building. There, Muriel was just getting terrier mix Mocha onto a leash.

  Seeing pug Baby in the next enclosure, Nella retrieved a leash, too, as well as treats from a container on the wall. “Can we walk with you?” she asked Muriel.

  “Sure! Did you have fun with the cats yesterday? I did, for the short time I visited.”

  Nella was delighted that they had a mutual conversation topic to start with. “Oh, yes. I’m more of a dog person, but seeing the cats up close and personal while I hung out there with Bibi taught me that I can probably fall for any lovable pet.”

  “Me, too.” Muriel also wore one of the shelter’s T-shirts, a beige one that seemed to enhance the deep color of her complexion. Nella had the impression Muriel was a happy person despite being at a location where she was in hiding, since she seemed to smile all the time.

  Would she keep smiling when Nella asked her questions? The idea wasn’t to freak her out, but just learn enough to help determine if she might be the target of the threat.

  Outside, Muriel gave Mocha a couple of commands. “Sit,” was the first, and the cute little terrier obeyed. “Okay, come.” That, too, was clearly an instruction Mocha knew, but Muriel had to repeat it before she obeyed.

  “Does Baby know those?” Nella asked Muriel.

  “Yes. I’ve worked with her, too.”

  Sure enough, when Nella said “Sit” to the pug, Baby sat, and wriggled a bit as if eager for the next command, which Nella gave quickly. “Come.” And Baby stood and dashed off a bit, pulling on her leash, which made Nella laugh. “Well, she’s at least partly obedient.”

  Nella considered again using the skills she’d observed at the LAPD as part of her job at the shelter. She would not be able to turn all these dogs into K-9s, though it should be enjoyable to work with the one Scott had mentioned as a potential new canine resident.

  But it certainly wouldn’t hurt to try to teach the dogs she worked with here a bit more obedience, as Muriel evidently did.

  “Most of our dogs aren’t great about following commands,” Muriel said as she started walking forward after telling Mocha “Heel,” which the terrier did.

  And Baby? Nella decided to work with her some more. Those treats she’d picked up should help with that.

  Using a tone that was clearly a command, she soon got Baby to sit again, stay, then come and heel. Next came down, stand and follow. Then the same commands again, authoritatively, in a different order, and Baby started to really obey. It didn’t hurt that Nella followed each with a treat. Did trained K-9s always get treats? She wasn’t sure, but it didn’t hurt with the dogs around here.

  “Wow, you’re good at that,” Muriel said. She sounded surprised, and Nella figured it might be because she might have been less than strict before with some of the commands she gave.

  She laughed inside at Muriel’s surprise, though. “Thanks. It’s fun to work with them, as you know.”

  “Of course.”

  But that wasn’t what Nella really wanted to do here with Muriel. They were walking alone with these dogs, although a couple of other staff members headed out of another building with canines at their sides. Even so, Nella figured this was a good time to talk.

  “You may have heard I’m being unbearably nosy with our staff members,” she began, “but I’ve figured that quizzing each of you myself will help me figure out the best way to help protect you. So—”

  “So you want to know why I’m here.” Muriel stopped walking just long enough to get Mocha to also stop and start pulling at her leash. “Heel, Mocha,” Muriel said, and started walking again, as did Nella with Baby—who followed the heel order perfectly this time.

  “That’s right.”

  “We’ve all discussed this with each other, you know,” Muriel began. “In most cases it’s been ex-spouses, boyfriends or girlfriends, relatives or bosses who drove us into the need for new identities. Me? It was a security guard in the office building where I worked as a paralegal.”

  Good to know, Nella thought. “Please tell me about it,” she said.

  “I pointed out a couple of times when some things went wrong, as with people getting into the building when they shouldn’t, things getting stolen and all, and believed it was his fault, maybe even his planning, so I told the building manager. I couldn’t prove anything, though, and the guy kept his job—but he was furious and wanted revenge.”

  When she paused, Nella asked, “How did he go about it?”

  It turned out that the security guy really knew his stuff and never left any actual evidence that Muriel could have used to get him arrested, or even fired. “I started having incidents first in my office, then at home, where taking the wrong step, eating my food or whatever, could have killed me, and the local cops got frustrated trying to prove who did it. Nothing indicated for certain it was the guy I knew it was. A few cops even seemed to believe at times that I was trying to set him up—although fortunately I had some cops on my side, too, which is why I’m here.” She shook her head. “They’re still trying, as far as I know, to find out and prove the truth, and I hope not to stay here much longer, but having a new identity, even temporarily, has helped me survive. See, I also have some PTSD from when I served in the military before becoming a paralegal.”

  “Got it,” Nella said, reminded of her own wonderment about whether she, too, had PTSD from what had happened in her life before she’d come here. She then had to ask, “And have you had any indication that your security guy knows what you’ve been up to, or that you’re here?”

  Muriel was another one whose background could have led to that threat. Of course, that was possible for all this shelter’s residents.

  “No.” Muriel came to a stop, though, and therefore so did Nella and the dogs. “Do you have any reason to suspect he does?”

  Nella wondered if Muriel’s PTSD was kicking in, so for now, at least, she decided to attempt to calm her. “Not at all,” she said. “But again, I want to know the worst to try to provide the best help.”

  “Got it.” Muriel started walking again. “But—well, if you ever think otherwise, please let me know. I do have my outside resources who’ll at least try to help again. I want to leave here as soon as I can, so in some ways maybe it would be good if my personal menace came after me in a way he could finally be stopped.”

  “Maybe.” Nella realized her tone was dubious. To ease Muriel’s state of mind, and to help both of them and the dogs enjoy their walk, she asked her human companion about her favorite pets and how being with animals helped calm her life.

  A short while later, they both took their pet companions back to their enclosures. “Ready for breakfast?” Muriel asked. “I am.”

  “Sounds good to me, too,” Nella said. “And—well, if there’s anything else you think I should know, or any way
I can help—”

  “I’ll definitely let you know,” Muriel said. “You’re a really good manager, Nella.”

  That made Nella smile. “And you’re a really good staff member,” she responded.

  She started to walk with Muriel toward where breakfast would be served. On the way to the eating area Nella’s phone rang. She pulled it out of her pocket and saw the caller was Dan Poreski. “I’d better take this,” she told Muriel. “I’ll catch up with you in the dining room.”

  Muriel walked ahead as Nella moved to the side of the path, watching as others appeared, heading toward breakfast.

  “Hi, Dan,” Nella said, glad to hear from her former boss. “How are you doing?”

  “The more important question is how are you doing?”

  “Fine,” Nella responded. Well, she might be worried about all those under her protection, but she really wasn’t doing too badly, all things considered.

  “Great,” Dan said. “I’ve really been thinking about the idea of starting a similar shelter to that one here in L.A., like I mentioned before. I want to come and see your place soon, possibly tomorrow, Saturday. Would that be okay?”

  “I’ll have to check with the director.” Scott already knew Dan, so he’d probably be fine with the idea. Even so, Nella would ask. “I’ll let you know as soon as I can.”

  “Very good. Oh, and I’ll be bringing Jon along. He’s also interested in opening that kind of shelter, and I want him to see what it’s about so he can help if I decide to follow up on it.”

  Great. Well, Nella wasn’t surprised. And if Jon could help Dan move forward—if he decided to—it certainly wouldn’t hurt to see him again.

  “Fine,” Nella said. “I’ll get back to you soon.” She hesitated, then asked, “Oh—and anything new to report on the escaped gang members?”

  A slight pause, then Dan said, “No, but we’re still working on it, of course.”

  Nella felt sure they were. And for the moment, she wished she was there to get revenge, as she’d wanted before. But that moment passed quickly.