Anthony had clearly been reading the comments following the news article. Family members of the neighbors who’d filed the complaints had written most of the vitriol.
“Those claims are groundless and have no basis in fact,” Kat bit out, willing her voice to remain neutral.
“So …” Anthony probed.
“My lawyer has told me not to comment.”
“Maybe you should,” Jack said, stepping forward.
She shot him an angry glance.
“Here you have Anthony, who always tells a fair story, giving you the chance to set the record straight. And I’m here, and after the letter I received, I wanted to see your shelter for myself.” He held out a piece of paper.
She’d let her guard down. Her impulsivity had cost her again. “You want to close me down,” she accused.
“No. I have not reached a conclusion. I’m a fair man.”
“He is.” Anthony reached for the paper, but Jack put it in his pocket. “If you have nothing to hide—”
“Fine,” Kat cut in, desperate to regain control of a situation fast spiraling out from under her.
“So we can have a tour?” Anthony prodded.
“Might get people in the door to adopt,” Jack added. “And put this complaint to rest.” He waved the paper again.
“I have nothing to be ashamed of.” Cornered, she glanced at her watch. “But I only have twenty minutes before my next patient.”
Anthony, now that he had his exclusive, went to speak with his cameraman.
“I can’t believe this.” Kat turned her anger on Jack. “You set me up.” She snatched the letter from his hand.
“I meant to ask you last night, but it was late. The only reason I didn’t insist yesterday is that Jeff approved you and I trust him. Kat, you have the most high-profile dog in the city. And if dogs are standing in their own waste, then I want to see it for myself.”
That hurt. “Do you really believe that of me?”
He shook his head. “No. But put my mind at ease anyway.”
Which meant he doubted. So much for their earlier connection.
“We ready?” Anthony nudged, returning.
Kat led them to another part of the clinic. “We have a series of luxury boarding suites.” She pointed to a series of mini rooms. “Here people can board their dogs or cats and choose the level of playtime, amount of grooming, and whether they want remote video access via the web.” They crossed into another portion of the building. “This area is for our stray guests.”
Immediately behind the door, the noise of barking dogs became extremely loud. Kat had twenty indoor kennels, each separated by chain link. The facility looked like most other pet shelters, and Jack noted the floors and kennels were extremely clean. “This door leads outside and we let them run in the yard. We also do leash training and take them on walks.” Kat opened the door to a side yard, which was more than adequate space. “The dogs are always supervised.”
She led them back inside and downstairs to a basement with ten-foot-high ceilings. “This is our cat facility.” A few cats lounged by themselves in large cages with plenty of space; others lived together in a community room. The lighting and ventilation were more than adequate.
“Jack?” Anthony asked. He shoved a handheld mic under Jack’s nose.
“I don’t see any animal abuse or any unhealthy animals or an unsanitary environment,” Jack answered honestly.
“As the detective who’s cited several puppy mills for their poor conditions, you’d know bad facilities when you saw them.”
“Yes, I would. At this time, Dr. Saunders’s facility exceeds the requirements for a shelter. As for her occupancy permits, that’s not my department and I can’t address it.”
“But do you think she should be able to keep her shelter?”
“I am always an advocate of animal adoptions,” Jack replied, skirting the question with diplomatic aplomb. He handed the mic back.
“Well, I appreciate this,” Anthony said. “I’ll let you know if I have questions.”
Kat tossed the letter on her desk and dropped into her chair the moment the news crew left. Jack remained standing, and Crystal came to weave herself between his legs. She trembled. “What a mess. A complete mess.”
“I didn’t lie,” Jack told her. “I never lie. If you’d had any animal in distress, I’d be back in five minutes to take them away and shut you down.”
“I know.” She glanced at her watch. Six minutes before her next client. She prided herself on being on time. “I screwed up and it’s biting me. I forgot to get the permits. It started out as one stray dog that my vet tech found. Then once I remodeled the clinic, I had more space and someone else brought me another. Then another. Next thing you know, I’m running an unofficial shelter and I’m in violation of zoning, and now I’m embroiled in a mess and headed to court. You forcing that tour put me in an awkward spot.”
“I read the Post-Dispatch article. You need to clear the air and the minds of the city. You need good PR. The story can do that. It will stop this,” he said holding up the letter.
She chewed her lower lip. “What if Anthony’s story makes everything worse? My lawyer said—”
“My brother’s a lawyer. They’re always saying something.”
“Yes but—”
“Worse would be that we have to relocate Jingle to another vet.” He let that hang out there and then said gently, “Kat, your heart was in the right place when you started your shelter. You do everything in your power to save animals, including sleeping at your clinic. Those animals looked well cared for. I said that on camera, and it’s the truth. But know that I will not let anything blemish the task force.”
“Then you might have made the wrong choice with me. Especially depending on the comments that get posted after the news broadcast.”
He shrugged. “You never know. Could be nothing.”
She put her head in her hands. “I wish you hadn’t put me on the spot. If this ruins my chances for my adoption event, I don’t know what I’ll do. What if the city shuts that down, too? How will I find my animals homes then?”
“Christmas adoptions are never a good idea. Just look at Jingle.”
Her head shot up and her chest heaved. “You’re wrong. Many loving families adopt animals at Christmas, and my animals deserve that chance. Pet Rescue is full, as are most no-kill shelters. I will not have my animals end up in a kill shelter. If this gets screwed up, you’ll need to help me fix it.” Her watch beeped. She could not keep her patients waiting. “I have to go.”
“I’ll stop by after closing. See how Jingle’s doing. We can talk then. Discuss any fallout.”
Overwhelmed, she rose to her feet. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea. I can keep you up-to-date over the phone. You’ve already done more than enough, and I probably shouldn’t speak to you again without talking to my lawyer.” She remembered her manners. “Thank you for lunch.”
Jack towered over her. He cupped her chin, and awareness burned through her. Determined and slightly irritated blue eyes locked onto hers. “We’re not finished, Kat. Not by a long shot. I will see you after work.”
Chapter Four
That afternoon, Kat kept busy with back-to-back patients. She performed several routine physicals, saw one dog who’d chewed up a sneaker, and treated a cat that had an infection and needed an antibiotic shot and a special diet. During her appointments she’d fought to keep her mind from churning. Worry frayed her nerves, and her lawyer’s $250 phone call hadn’t helped either. She’d just reiterated that Kat needed to keep a low profile.
Kat changed Jingle’s dressings, checked his wounds for infection, and monitored his vitals. “So how was lunch with Mr. December?” Angela asked.
“Jack,” Kat corrected. She and Angela had worked together for three years now, and Angela’s brows lifted at the correction.
“That sounds pretty friendly.”
Kat ran her fingers through her hair, a nervous habit
. “We aren’t friendly. He showed up here with a complaint letter. He came to investigate me, and the interview probably ruined my chances with the city.”
“So, make him fix it. Have Jack help you with the adoption event. He said he’s a fair guy. Make him prove it.”
“What are you suggesting?”
Angela shrugged. “Louise and I talked. He’s a local celebrity. A press magnet. People will come here just to meet him, and after they do, maybe they’ll go home with a new pet.”
“Doesn’t that prove his point?” Kat asked. “That people are fickle?”
“Ignore his Scrooge tendencies. Demand he help. He can sign some autographs or whatever. We get more people here, then we get more animals adopted. Claire will have the photos ready Monday, and we can start the heavy-duty PR.”
Kat’s clinic posted cute pictures of adoptable animals on its web site, which always helped with finding pets new homes. They’d hang up flyers on the public supermarket boards and advertise via Facebook and Petfinder.com. “Even with all that we do, we need press. We need to capitalize on Jingle and Jack,” Angela insisted.
“I’m not sure involving either of them is a good idea. Probably a conflict of interest. Jack’s not really thrilled with his fame.”
Although a few years younger than Kat, Angela suddenly sounded far wiser. “Who cares? He allowed Anthony to come in here, which put you in a bind. So he should help you out. What can it hurt to ask him?”
“He hates Christmastime adoptions. He’s going to say no. And the city can and perhaps will shut down my event saying it’s also unsanctioned.”
“Which is why you need the press to love you. You need to be Jingle’s angel. Heck, be all stray animals’ guardian angel. Let’s keep reinforcing that every time Anthony comes.”
“Sounds mercenary.”
“Kat, this is your life’s passion. Your shelter. Your animals. What do we have to lose? Use Jack Donovan.”
“I don’t use people.” That was unthinkable.
“Kat, I love you like a big sister. You’re more than my boss. But you need to put on some boxing gloves and get into the ring. Trust me. Jack is your golden ticket.”
That logic made sense, Kat thought. It didn’t mean she liked it.
“Kat?” Louise, the front-desk receptionist, stood in the doorway.
“Yes?”
“Mr. Simons is here with Pebbles.”
It was five minutes until closing, which meant it was an emergency. “What’s wrong?”
“Shallow breathing. He says she’s lying around. Won’t eat or drink. Been that way for a day or two.”
“Get her into room two.”
Kat met Jasper Simons in room two, where Pebbles, a sixteen-year-old cat, lay on the table. Mr. Simons was in his mid-fifties and lived nearby. “I just thought she wasn’t hungry the past few days, so I tried some new food and …”
“She’s old, Jas,” Kat said, placing her hand on Pebbles. She felt around, noting the cat’s glassy eyes and shallow inhalations. “Sometimes these things come on very quickly.”
“She’s not going to make it, is she?” he asked.
Kat did a quick examination. She’d been treating Pebbles for five years and knew her well. “She’s had a long life. A great one. I know you love her very much, but this is renal failure. We could do dialysis, but …”
His hand trembled. “So it’s time?”
She delivered the news she so hated. “Yes. I think that would be best. And you know I would tell you if there was anything I could do. But it’s time.”
Grown men did cry, and Mr. Simons wiped away a tear. “Can I stay? Hold her? I don’t want her to be alone.”
Kat nodded. “Yes. She’d like that. I’ll go get things ready and give you some privacy to say your good-byes.”
“Mr. December’s here,” Angela warned as Kat unlocked a medicine cabinet.
“He’s going to have to wait,” Kat replied, retrieving the vials she needed. She returned to the room, Mr. Simons’s tears causing her to bite back her own. Pet owners had to see her as competent. Strong, yet sympathetic. Professional. She shaved off a small area of Pebble’s fur and then administered the sedative. After the second medication, Pebbles slipped away quickly.
“Thank you.” Mr. Simons stroked Pebble’s still body. Fresh tears began. “That was peaceful.”
Angela gently wrapped the animal in a blanket and took her from the room. “I’m sorry for your loss,” Kat said.
“What will Bam Bam do?” He mentioned his other cat.
“Later, when things have settled down, you and I can talk about whether Bam Bam needs a playmate,” she said. “I’ll help you. But right now Bam Bam will need your full attention and love. He’ll be grieving, too.”
Louise entered, and Mr. Simons followed her from the room. Kat undid her ponytail, scratched the top of her head, and then secured the strands again. She went to check on Jingle, and heard Jack. He cooed to the puppy in that baby talk that all animal lovers use, but that no one ever admits to. She watched him stroke the dog’s head, his fingers gentle and soothing. He whispered in Jingle’s ear. While Jingle’s right ear twitched slightly, his eyes remained closed. Yet the dog seemed more peaceful.
“You sweet thing. I’m gonna get them for you. And you’ll never hurt again. I promise.” He glanced up, sensing her presence. He reddened, caught. Who’d have predicted Mr. Rough and Tough had such a soft side?
Softening, she said, “I’m sure he likes you talking to him.”
“How’s he doing?” He’d changed from his jeans and flannel shirt and now wore a pair of khakis and a blue oxford button-down that complimented his eyes.
Kat placed a hand on the dog’s front right paw, one of the few areas that hadn’t been burned. She touched Jingle as often as possible, letting him know she cared. “He’s the same. We’re keeping him sedated. The pain from the burns is unbearable. Later he’ll need laser therapy and skin grafts, but we can’t do those yet.”
“But he’s okay.”
“We’re constantly fighting off infection, so I can’t rule anything out, but I am cautiously optimistic. His progress is promising.”
“Good. I need updated pictures.” He held out a small camera.
Kat was exhausted. She wanted to be alone, grieve for her role in the circle of life. “Tonight is not a good time.”
He sensed that something was bothering her. “Then when can I get those?”
“How about Monday morning at eight? We’ll be changing the bandages, so that will be a good time.”
“I’ll be here for that,” Jack said, putting the camera in his jacket pocket. “That’s fine. The more evidence we can present to the jury of this dog’s suffering, the better chance we have for a conviction. It’s not only about demonstrating the horror of the act itself, but of the recovery this poor dog also has suffered.”
Kat tucked a loose strand behind her ear. “Do you know who did it?”
One simple nod. “Yes.”
After the day she’d had, she needed to know. “Who?”
“The boy’s aunt and her boyfriend.”
Kat’s hand flew up in front of her mouth as she gasped. “Billy’s relatives? His own family?”
“Yes. Jingle bit the aunt’s son, and she decided to punish the dog by ending his life. She bragged on Facebook, saying all dogs don’t go to heaven and ‘smell that doggie smoke.’”
“You have to be kidding me. That’s sick.” Kat’s whole body shook from the horrible revelation.
“Sick’s an understatement. I’ll be arresting her and her boyfriend within days. We only need a few more digital footprint pieces on the boyfriend, and we’ll pick them both up. I want rock-solid arrests. I want convictions.”
Kat did too. She rubbed Jingle’s paw, her touch gentle. Mr. Simons had loved Pebbles more than anything, and he’d gone home heartbroken. The people who’d hurt Jingle were the worst kind on earth. Kat’s fury raged and her body shook.
“He
y, what’s wrong?”
The day overwhelmed. “I just had to put a cat down and watch his owner unravel. This poor defenseless baby. Sweet Jingle. How could she do such a thing. … I … I … I’d …”
Kat shuddered as well-controlled emotions broke through the dam. A tear dropped and then another, and she furiously wiped them away.
“Hey.” Jack folded her into his arms, and she went without hesitation. Cocooned, as if she belonged. “Yeah, I’d like to kill her too. But since that’s not an option, I’m going to personally arrest her and her boyfriend and make sure it’s the day’s top news story. She’s going to do hard time if I have anything to say about it. They both are.”
Kat sniffled, tried to stem the flow. “Justice is slow.”
“We’re building an airtight case. They won’t get away with this.”
“I hope so. For Jingle’s sake.” Kat stepped out of Jack’s embrace. She’d liked being in his arms a little too much. “I have to check on the kennels.”
“Can I tag along?”
Drained, Kat simply nodded. She didn’t want to argue anymore. Jack followed as she went to visit both the stray animals and those being boarded. He helped her pet the excited dogs, scratched the heads of the purring cats. He had a magical touch. Cats rubbed against him, dogs quieted as he scratched behind their ears.
“I am really sorry about the cat.”
His tenderness struck the right cord. “Me, too. It’s a part of life, but it’s heartbreaking.”
They greeted a few more of her animals. “I’m sorry about how we left things today. That was not my intention. I wasn’t trying to ambush you. You’re different from most women I’ve met. In a good way.”
He couldn’t put his finger on how, or why, but like the detective he was, knew he couldn’t stop until he’d figured out the mystery. She didn’t answer, just absorbed his words as she went to the next cat cage.
“So who’s this?” he asked, and he trailed her, enjoying her company as she gave him some background on each animal. He wasn’t in any real rush. She was his sole focus. “Are you sleeping here again?”
A Little Christmas Jingle Page 5