by Nikki Chase
“I don't care what it is. We need to get Max to a clinic,” she says.
“We need to find the asshole who did this.” I kneel down to check out a suspicious piece of something brown and green. I didn't see it before because the colors hide it well among the grass and soil.
“Who? How long is it going to take you to find him? It could be anyone. Remember what the cops said about the letter in my mailbox. It could be anyone, for any reason.”
“I’ll start with Steve and Caine.”
“It's not them. Jacob, I’m telling you. You’d just be wasting your time if you approached them. Caine, especially. He’s a dangerous man,” Jessica says.
“Maybe I’m a dangerous man, too.” I know Jessica's getting aggravated, but I’m getting really tired of her throwing caution to the wind and having secret meetings with potentially dangerous men. Somebody has to be the responsible adult here, and it's obviously not going to be her.
“How are you even so sure that Max isn't just sick? He’s an old dog,” Jessica says.
“Call it a hunch,” I say as my fingers move the taller blades of grass out of the way.
“So I’m standing here waiting for you while Max is slowly dying, and it's all because you have a hunch?”
“There's something here.” I flash the light from my phone onto the suspicious thing on the ground. “Did you give Max some food here recently?”
“No. Jacob, listen. I’m done talking. Max needs to make it to the vet like right now. Do whatever you want. I'm going to the vet,” Jessica says.
I raise my head and open my mouth to call her, but she's gone. She must've slipped away when I was looking at this chunk of bright green minced meat on the ground.
It's some sort of poison alright, but I can't be sure what kind, or how much Max has ingested.
I hope the fact that his body was all the way over there means that he only ate a little bit before walking away. I do feel for the little guy, and I hope he makes it.
It's just more important to find the person responsible for this and keep Jessica safe. At least she's out of the house, which is where she's safest, considering whoever did this seems to want to chase her out, make her run away, keep her on her toes.
Jessica's right; if someone wanted to kidnap her or kill her, they would've already done that.
But what if that someone wants to stretch out the chase, maximize Jessica's pain, extend her punishment?
Then the easiest way to accomplish that is to hit her just when she lets her guard down. When she starts settling down, make her run away to another town. When she starts to settle down again in the new town, drive her away again. On and on until the guy’s bored of the cruel game.
This means there’s a good reason why the guy hasn’t openly attacked her yet, despite having had many opportunities to do so. This means neither Steve nor Caine can be ruled out.
Jessica
“Hang in there, Max.” I peer over the top of Max’s car seat when we stop at a red light.
His little body rapidly expands and contracts as his lungs work overtime. His whines tell me he’s scared and confused. He has no idea what’s going on, and it breaks my heart to watch him fight for his life.
I touch his head gently, afraid to hurt him. “Everything’s going to be okay, Max.”
I don’t believe my own words. I’ve seen how his muscles jerk uncontrollably. He’s having seizures.
As soon as the lights turn green, I step on it. The GPS tells me to take a right turn. The robotic voice is calm, cool, collected, unrushed—it annoys me.
We need to get to the clinic right now. I’m worried Max wouldn’t even make it onto the vet’s examination table.
Maybe Jacob’s right. Maybe it’s a lost cause and there’s no hope for Max at all. Maybe there’s zero chance that Max is going to live to see the sun rise.
But I have to give it my best shot. I won’t be able to live with myself if I didn’t. I’ll be damned if Max died because I choose to search for someone who may not even exist, instead of getting him to the vet.
Why is Jacob so sure this was done by someone who wants to hurt me anyway?
Maybe Max is sick because he’s old. He could’ve swallowed something poisonous just because he’s an idiot who’d eat anything. Maybe someone unintentionally fed Max something bad, and had no idea it was going to turn out this way. A neighborhood kid could’ve given him chocolate, for example.
Why would Jacob jump to the conclusion that it was a calculated, malicious move against me?
And why would he suspect Steve and Caine? I already told him they’re safe. Neither one of them would gain anything from me moving out of Ashbourne. Steve would just lose one potential downline for his network, and Caine never wanted anything from me in the first place.
They both have cleared my safety checks, but apparently that means nothing to Jacob. Only his judgment matters because I obviously know nothing.
To that, I say fuck off. I’ve worked in a seedy industry full of men who wanted to take advantage of me, and I’ve survived.
I used my stripping job to pay for Mom’s medical treatments, get an education, and build a nest egg of savings. I used my job and never let it use me.
I know how to take care of myself, thank you very much. I’d been doing that just fine for years before Jacob came along, pounding his chest and marking his territory.
I park my car in front of the building with a big bright sign that says 24-Hour Animal Clinic. I pick up Max’s car seat and balance the whole thing on my arms. It’s heavier and more awkward to carry him this way, but I don’t want to risk hurting Max by moving his body.
A teenager in blue scrubs opens the door for me. They’ve been waiting for Max. A young, attractive brunette who looks like she’s in charge gestures for me to follow her.
We walk into the examination room and I place the car seat on the stainless-steel surface. Max is still lying limp on the car seat. He’s whining, his little body jerking uncontrollably every once in a while.
“What’s his name?” The vet keeps her eyes on Max as she addresses me. The name tag on her lapel says ‘Sarah.’
“Max.”
“Did he eat anything suspicious?” She leans down to inspect Max’s mouth and eyes, her long brown waves tumbling to the front as she does.
“I don’t know.”
“You didn’t feed him anything unusual, anything different from what he normally eats?” Sarah touches various parts of Max’s body with practiced movements. She looks like she knows what she’s doing.
“No. He was like this when I found him in the backyard.”
“Was he in the backyard on his own?” She speaks in a calm, precise manner. She doesn’t seem alarmed. Maybe that’s a good sign.
“Yes.”
“Is there any access from the street directly into the backyard?”
“There’s a side gate that separates the backyard from the street.”
“You may want to call the cops. Your dog has ingested some kind of poison. It may have been by accident, but it’s also very possible that someone has deliberately fed it to him.”
“Why would someone do something like that?”
“I have no idea.” She shrugs and shakes her head. “It could be because the dog is noisy, or just because whoever did it wanted to see how the poison would affect the dog. It’s sad, but it happens. Any other animals in your house that could wander into the backyard?”
“No.”
“Good. We’ll take care of him. You can sit outside in the waiting room and call the cops. You may also want to report this to the Animal Services and SPCA. My vet tech has all the numbers.”
“Is Max going to make it?”
“We’ll do our best.” Sarah looks up and meets my gaze for the first time. She gives me a kind smile, but there’s uncertainty in her eyes.
I want to grab her shoulders, shake her, and make her say she’s going to fix everything, make her promise she’ll give Max back
to me as healthy as he was yesterday. But I know that’s not a fair expectation.
So I smile back at her and thank her before going outside to wait, closing the door behind me.
“Don’t worry,” says the guy in blue scrubs as I take a seat. He’s probably the vet tech Sarah mentioned earlier. He puts a reassuring hand on my shoulder. “Your baby is in good hands. Is there anything I can do for you now?”
“Well, the vet told me to call the cops.”
“Right. Animal abuse. I have a list of numbers you can call. You don’t have to, but most people prefer doing something rather than just sitting here waiting. I’ll get you the numbers”
“Thank you.”
“Here you go.” The vet tech gives me a small piece of paper with some phone numbers on it. “My name is Brian. I’ll be right there behind the counter if you need anything,” he says before he goes back to his work.
I sit there in the waiting room, leaning forward with my elbows on my thighs, staring at the piece of paper until the writing becomes blurry.
Should I call the cops? Why do that when they probably won’t do anything?
If I call them and tell them about Jacob’s suspicion of Steve and Caine, are they going to check those leads? Are the cops going to bump into Jacob if and when they do?
What if they see Jacob beating the shit out of some innocent guy? Would Jacob get into trouble? Do I want him to get into trouble?
I have so many questions. A part of me feels like I need to have all the answers before making a decision. I don’t want to make the wrong move and make things worse.
At the same time, Brian is right. It’s a horrible feeling, sitting around helplessly while a crisis unfolds. I may actually feel worse now than I did on the drive here.
Okay. It’s decided then. I’ll call the cops.
Maybe it’ll help, maybe it won’t. What’s the worst that can happen? If Jacob gets into trouble, that would be his own fault. So be it. I don’t care.
Jacob
“Sorry, Sir. We don’t have a guest by that name.” The receptionist behind the front desk smiles.
“You can’t miss the guy. He’s tall, in his early thirties, probably wears business suits all the time. He looks like this.” I prop my phone up on the granite surface of the counter and show her a picture of Caine Foster.
“I apologize. I don’t recognize him. We have many guests coming and going all the time, Sir.”
Motherfucker.
Jessica told me this is the hotel where Caine is staying. I could’ve figured it out myself because this is the best hotel in this small town, and he seems like the kind of guy who travels in style.
And yet, he’s gone. Disappeared like a ghost. It’s like he was never here.
I look around the hotel lobby, hoping to spot him sitting in the corner with an empty box of rat poison.
Yeah, I know that’s not likely, but I don’t know where else to look.
I tried asking Matt for help, but it’s no use. A guy like Caine values his privacy, and he has the money to protect it. There’s nothing I can do to find him.
It’s possible the receptionist is lying to me. I hate being lied to, but maybe it’s hotel policy to never reveal their guests’ details to strangers.
It’s also possible Caine has left town.
Based on Jessica’s story, even though Caine claimed he wanted to talk, he treated it like business. He gave and received information, then left when he was done. Like he was running on a tight schedule. He probably wouldn’t stay in town longer than he has to.
So that leaves Steve.
In the hotel parking lot, I hop onto my Harley Davidson and quickly check his address on my phone. Matt sent it to me when he first looked into the guy, thinking it might come in handy.
It doesn’t take me long to find Steve’s place. He lives in the nice side of the town where all the big houses are.
Well, big by small town standards. It doesn’t have a mile-long driveway or anything like that.
I park on the street and walk right up to the front door.
“Can I help you?” A woman opens the door. She’s probably in her fifties. Steve’s mom, maybe?
“Yes. I’m here to see Steve, Ma’am.” I want to beat the shit out of Steve if it turns out he’s the one responsible for poisoning Max and distressing Jessica, but I can’t be impolite to a lady. Call it a bad habit from my military days.
“Oh, he told me he’s waiting for a friend from Vita-ments.”
“That would be me.” I smile confidently, although I have no idea what she’s talking about.
“Come in,” she says, pulling the door open a little wider.
“Oh, no. I’m actually in a bit of a rush, Ma’am. I’d like to see him here if that’s okay.” I don’t want to break this nice lady’s antique vase with a stray punch, or stain her marble tiles with his son’s blood. If we’re going to fight this out, I’d rather do it outside.
“You’re asking so nicely I can’t possibly say no.” She smiles. “Wait here, please. I’ll get him.”
“Thank you, Ma’am.”
Steve looks exactly like the pictures I got from Matt. Which is to say, he looks nothing like his dating profile pictures. That must’ve been a surprise for Jessica.
“My mom said you were looking for me?” Steve frowns as he approaches the door. He looks apprehensive. People often find me intimidating due to my size, so that alone isn’t strange. He also looks genuinely confused, like he can’t possibly guess why a guy like me would be here looking for him.
“You’re Steve?”
“Yes,” he says.
“Then you’re the guy I’m looking for. Can you tell me where you’ve been all day?”
“Sorry, but what is this about?”
“I’m a private investigator. My client hired me to look into an incident involving her dog,” I say, drawing my inspiration from Matt’s work. If Steve has anything to do with poisoning Max at all, just the mention of a dog should be enough to make him nervous.
“Oh, no. Something happened around here?” Steve looks troubled. If he isn’t actually concerned about the safety of his neighborhood, then he’s a damn good actor.
“I can’t disclose the identity of my client. I hope you understand that. Can you please tell me where you’ve been all day?”
“Am I a suspect?”
“Perhaps you were in the right place at the right time and saw something.”
“I was home all day, working on the new presentation materials for Vita-ments. You can ask my Mom.”
“Vita-what?”
“Vita-ments. They’re supplements that contain vitamins and other good stuff that your body needs. They’re really good for your health. I can see you’re the kind of guy who cares about your health. You probably work out, right? I can tell by all your muscles. But your body could be lacking some nutri—“
“Thank you for your help, Steve. I don’t have any more questions.” I flash him a polite smile in an attempt to end the conversation. I can tell the guy wouldn’t stop unless I cut him off.
“Oh.” His face falls, but he’s not done trying. “Would you like to know more about Vita-ments anyway? You can come inside and we can have some drinks while we talk.”
“No, thanks. I have work to do. Maybe next time. Have a nice evening.” I turn to leave.
“Wait!” Steve grabs a small business card from his pocket and offers it to me. “Here’s my number. Call me whenever you want to chat.”
Damn. This guy is persistent. I take his card and walk away as quickly as I can, before he has a chance to start blabbing again.
On the ride home, I think about how badly I’ve handled this.
Obviously Steve has no fucking clue what that conversation was really about. And Caine? Even though he could still have possibly done it, it’s unlikely.
In other words, I’ve just wasted my time riding all over town, just to confirm all the things Jessica has already told me.
Fuck.
I guess I feel guilty because Max got poisoned under my watch. I should’ve kept an eye on him. I should’ve known something like that could happen.
And if it could happen to Max, it could happen to Jessica.
Obviously Jessica wouldn’t chow down on some weirdly colored mystery meat someone throws over the fence. But if someone could harm Max under my watch, then he could do the same to Jessica. That thought makes me really uncomfortable.
I’ve also been thinking about what Jessica said, about how all these things only started happening since I moved into town.
I wonder if I’m a trigger, if I’m the reason Jessica’s being intimidated. Maybe the guy is jealous of me. Maybe he wants Jessica for himself.
If I’m responsible for putting Jessica in this situation, then I should also be the one to get her out of it.
As soon as I get home, I park my bike in my driveway and walk to Jessica’s place.
Her home is still dark, which means she’s still out, but I can let myself in tonight. In her panic and confusion, Jessica left her house keys on the dining table, and I have them in my pocket now.
As soon as I’m inside, I take my usual spot on the couch and call Jessica, but all I get is her voicemail. I hang up and text her instead.
Jacob: where are you?
I guess I should collect the poisoned meat in the backyard for evidence. Maybe a lab can conduct some tests on it and figure out what really happened.
Or maybe I should just sit here in the dark and fucking think before I do anything.
Jessica: At the vet
Jessica: Not that you’d care, but the vet said Max may recover
Jessica: No thanks to you
Jessica: Where were you?
I hesitate. Jessica doesn’t sound too happy. I have a feeling telling her what I did wouldn’t improve her mood, but lying is not an option. Not if I want Jessica to trust me.
I type the words, stare at them for too long, then press the Send button.
I hope this is the right thing to say.