The Dog Town Collection

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The Dog Town Collection Page 11

by Sandy Rideout

“Beagles are runners, though.”

  Bridget shook her head. “Try thinking like a dog on a day pass. Leo’s got himself a nice quail that someone would take away from him. If I were him, I’d settle down in a private corner to eat it all up. Plus, like you say, he’s a beagle. They live to sniff and eat. He doesn’t need to go far to do that. Every dumpster’s a gold mine.”

  “What if he goes feral? I heard of that happening when dogs get lost. They don’t even recognize their owner when they’re found.”

  Bridget nodded. “It’s true in the bush, yes. Over days, a terrified dog will lose its domestic connection. But this is Leo we’re talking about. An hour ago, he was swanning around a gala on the arm of an heiress. Do you think he’s going to turn that fast?”

  “No. Not unless something spooks him.”

  “He’s a placid dog. One of the most placid I’ve known,” Bridget said. “I got a good a feeling about this.”

  Bridget’s fingers were on Beau’s head, as they nearly always seemed to be. It was handy having a tall dog, Remi realized. You couldn’t carry him around but he was always in easy reach.

  “Are your feelings usually right?” Remi asked.

  Stooping to stare under a row of parked cars, Bridget said, “How do you think I gained my reputation for being matchmaker to the mutts? I’ve never had a dog returned in all my years of rehoming them.”

  “Well, you sure picked the right one for me.”

  “That I did. You two were easy.” Standing, she started poking through bushes in front of a long string of new townhouses. “I hooked you up with the mutt of your dreams. You’d already found your soulmate.”

  Remi stopped in her tracks. “Pardon me?”

  “I saw you around town with Tiller Iverson yesterday. I got a good feeling.”

  Pushing bushes aside with more force than necessary, Remi said, “That one’s a misfire.”

  “Can’t trust one feeling and dismiss the other,” Bridget said. “Either you believe in matchmaker magic, or you don’t.”

  Sliding between some huge planters, Remi laughed. “Guess I’m stuck between a rock and a hard place.”

  “You’ve got to let things unfold naturally.” She looked under a porch and sighed. “I don’t always take my own advice, unfortunately.”

  “Is that why the matchmaker’s still single?” Remi asked, turning to stare at the rescuer. Even with her hair coiled under a baseball cap and no makeup at all, Bridget was attractive.

  “Still waiting for the good feeling,” Bridget said. “Won’t settle for less.”

  “It’s coming,” Remi said, pulling trash bins aside to peer into an ally. “Guess we need to remind ourselves that sometimes trash is really treasure.”

  Bridget laughed. “That’s the main principle behind dog rescue, in fact.”

  A voice rang out. Cori was at the other end of the ally. “Less chit-chat and more action,” she called. “Raise those voices.”

  Remi’s voice overlapped with Bridget’s when she shouted Leo’s name. Their voices sounded eerie enough to raise goosebumps on her bare arms.

  “Is it true what they say?” Remi asked. “That you guys call yourselves the Rescue Mafia?”

  Bridget got down on her hands and knees to check the street from dog level. “It’s true that some people call us that. We don’t need a label to look out for dogs.”

  “I’ve heard these amazing stories of dangerous rescues,” Remi said.

  “Probably only half true,” Bridget said, getting up. “The stuff of urban legend.”

  “Well, it’s impressive,” Remi said. “I wish I could be that brave.”

  “You’re plenty brave,” Bridget said. “If I didn’t think so, I wouldn’t have given you Leo. He had a rough start in life and was terrified of people when we rescued him. You worked hard to give him the life he has now. Cori might razz you but she’s impressed.”

  “Impressed? Really?’

  “Well, Cori doesn’t really do impressed. But she’d stop at nothing to keep you together.”

  The tears started again. “I can’t… I can’t…”

  “You won’t need to,” Bridget said, beckoning. “It’s all going to be fine. That said, Leo isn’t around here. Look at Beau. If there were a dog in the vicinity, he’d be showing interest.”

  “Should we regroup with the others?”

  Bridget nodded. “I hate this street anyway. Condos springing up like weeds... Developers are sucking the soul out of this city.”

  “I don’t mind the low-rises like that one,” Remi said, pointing. “Sullivan Shaw’s projects aren’t so bad. He has a good eye.”

  “Sullivan Shaw is part of the problem,” Bridget said. “Not the solution. Everywhere I turn he’s knocking down something with character. I came to Dorset Hills for its charm.”

  “I hear you, but the city’s growing. People have to live somewhere.”

  Bridget stared at her. “I bet developers give generously to the hospital foundation.”

  Remi hoped Bridget couldn’t see the flush creeping over her shawl. “The lines get a bit blurry sometimes.”

  “Not for me,” Bridget said. “There are good people—dog people—and then there’s everyone else.”

  They joined the others on a street corner. “I used to think that way,” Remi said. “Nowadays I see plenty of gray area. Honestly, I blame it on Leo. He’s dragged me out in the world and I keep seeing that good people come in all breeds.”

  “You’d probably sing a different tune if you saw what we see in dog rescue,” Bridget said. “Sometimes it’s hard to like people.”

  “I gave up trying years ago,” Cori said. “Why bother with people?”

  “Except for us, you mean,” Duff said. “You love us.”

  “You’re passable,” Cori said. “Most of the time.”

  “Aw, so sweet.” Duff reached out as if to hug Cori. “I love you, too.”

  “Save the sentiment till we find the dog,” Cori said, flipping double orange at Duff. “Which, by the way, can only happen if you focus. This isn’t a tea party.”

  “What’s not to love about Cori?” Duff said, heading off with Nika this time.

  “Nothing,” Bridget said. “She just says what we all think, and does what we all wish we had the guts to do.”

  “Exactly,” Cori said. “So stop talking, Bridget, and use your so-called magic to re-match this beagle with his owner and get us home to bed.”

  Chapter 15

  The old mansion was always a bit creepy at night, but Remi didn’t think twice as she flung the door open and hit the lights. Now that real fear had filled her heart, there was no room for make-believe. Maybe that’s what it took to cure her of anxiety. A disaster.

  Leo was gone. Really gone. Despite her faith in Bridget, Cori and their team of rescuers, she had to face the fact that Leo had been missing for four hours and no one had called about him. It was getting harder to believe this would end well. Still, she’d received her orders and there was no time to sit around crying. Cori had sent her to the office to make posters to plaster on every corner for miles. That would take all night. By the time the sun came up on Labor Day, people would rally and help look for him. It was always that way with lost dogs in Dorset Hills.

  Kicking off her shoes, she ran downstairs and turned on her computer. She made a poster with Leo’s specs using a photo of him she’d never liked. If she had to see this heartbreaking sign all over, she didn’t want it to be one of her favorite shots.

  The sobbing began again as the posters slid off the printer. She thought she was cried dry, but she found a secret reserve of tears meant only for the greatest of sorrows. Nothing she’d experienced before touched it. Not even losing Tiller.

  “Remi?” It was his voice, calling from upstairs.

  “Go away,” she yelled. “I don’t want to see you.”

  It was all his fault. If he hadn’t come back to town and tried to steal her promotion, none of this would have happened. Going back
even further, if he hadn’t been an ass after prom, she wouldn’t have become a recluse who clung to her dog like a life raft.

  Either way, it was Tiller’s fault. She would have to quit this job to avoid him. It was probably better that way. Everywhere she turned here she’d be reminded of Leo’s antics, not to mention her failure to grow.

  “Well, maybe you want to see this.” Tiller was at the top of the stairs, waiting.

  Remi walked over and looked up. In his arms was Leo. The dog looked tired and was utterly filthy, but his tail lashed when he saw her.

  Kneeling on the bottom stair, she opened her arms and Tiller set him down. Leo came down the stairs without his usual swagger and licked her chin submissively. She held him close, sobbing and rocking him. After a few minutes, she wiped her face on her bare arm and said, “You stink.”

  “I found your dog and you’re still insulting me?”

  “Not you. Leo. He stinks of greasy quail and garbage.”

  “I found him just out back. He was rooting around the dumpster.”

  “He came here on his own?” She unhooked his leash and set him on the floor. He promptly curled into a ball and went to sleep.

  Tiller came partway down the stairs and sat. “Leo’s brighter than I thought. He followed his nose, and Roxy and I tailed him.” He waved a flashlight. “I got this from the car and then we looked for the swoosh of the leash. It was a pretty direct route through the back alleys. The garbage tour. That’s why no one saw him. I found what was left of the quail behind the Dog Town Tavern.”

  Remi quickly texted the news to Cori Hogan. Then she sat sideways on the stairs and wrapped her arms around her knees. Her feet were blistered and raw and only now could she feel the pain. “I’m sorry I yelled at you.”

  Tiller shrugged. “You should apologize to Hannah. She’s really upset.”

  “I don’t care about Hannah. All she thinks about is herself.”

  “That’s not true. Being back in Dorset Hills is hard for her. You don’t know how hard.”

  She stared up at him. “What don’t I know?”

  He shook his head. “It’s not my story to tell, Remi. I didn’t do what you think I did after prom. But I’ll never say what really happened. It wouldn’t be right.”

  Remi got up and walked over to the printer. “That’s convenient.”

  “It’s not convenient at all. I’ve had to live with you hating me all these years for nothing.”

  Taking the pile of posters, she went over to the big shredder. “I’m sure you could have found a way to clarify what happened without incriminating anyone else.”

  “And I’m sure you could have given me the benefit of the doubt.”

  “There’s a word for people who ignore evidence, and that’s ‘sucker.’” She turned on the shredder to drown out whatever he said next. When his lips stopped moving, she turned it off.

  “Rude,” he said. “I have every right to—”

  She turned on the shredder again. After a few minutes, she yelled, “Done?”

  “No, I’m not done. You can shred every scrap in this office and I’ll wait, Remi Malone.”

  “Knock yourself out.”

  She shredded all the posters and then went back to her desk. Her phone was pinging over and over. Ignoring Tiller, she checked her messages. In addition to questions about Leo was an email from Julia. There was a link to a video and a note saying, “Mystery solved.”

  Clicking the link, Remi opened the video. It showed the front foyer of the foundation office. Roxy and Leo raced into the shot. They rolled each other over and over, knocking the rug askew, and then started sniffing the couch. “Uh-oh,” Remi said. “Come down here, Tiller.”

  Together they watched as Roxy and Leo tag-teamed on Marcus’ Gianneschi couch. It started with a little tugging at the corner and quickly escalated to a full-on shark attack. It was like they were blood-crazed, egging each other on. At one point, Leo had his whole head inside the couch, yanking out fluffy filling and shaking it like a dead rabbit.

  Tiller’s shoulders started to shake.

  “Don’t laugh,” she said. “This is awful, Tiller. It has five thousand hits already and it’s only been live two hours. Marcus is going to freak.”

  “Who shot this?”

  “Anonymous account, but Julia’s asked Simon to see if he can sleuth out who posted.”

  They sat side by side on Remi’s old oak desk and watched the video over and over, laughing so hard that Leo woke up and looked at them reproachfully.

  Finally, Tiller said, “I don’t know how you can work down here. It’s like a dungeon.”

  She shivered, reaching for the shawl. “It feels safe. You know I’ve always been anxious in social situations. I’m still the same Remi.”

  “Could have fooled me. The Remi I knew was scared of her own shadow. The Remi I’ve seen lately is a confident woman with a smart mouth.”

  “Funny. Very funny.” Her heart beat faster under his steady gaze. “What brought you back to Dorset Hills, anyway?”

  He looked away, as if deciding whether to share. “My dad had coronary bypass surgery.”

  “No! I’m so sorry. Is he doing okay?”

  “Now, yes. It was touch and go for a while. They’ve been living in New York for the past few years but decided to move back here. So I’m helping them settle in.”

  “Ah. Well, you’re a good son. They’re lucky to have you.”

  “I have my moments,” he said, smiling.

  There was something in that smile. Something that induced a dizzying time travel feeling. Suddenly she was back in her parents’ basement on a battered old couch with Tiller, where it was all hands and arms and legs and mouths. Especially mouths.

  The fire started lower and rushed into her face like lava. She pushed herself away from him. Tiller slipped his arm around her and pulled her back. He smelled of soap and champagne and dog, with a hint of greasy quail. He was throwing off warmth like a furnace. It was all she could do not to curl into him and soak up the heat. But this was Tiller Iverson. The man who chewed her up, spit her out, and left town. Better to turn on the space heater than get too close.

  “Remi. Look at me.” His voice and his eyes were like molten chocolate, and when he leaned in close, she was hungry again.

  “No.” She snapped out of her trance. “Bad idea.”

  He shook his head. “The Remi I knew wasn’t afraid to kiss me. A lot.”

  “That Remi is gone. You broke her heart.”

  He slid off the desk and shrugged. “No, she broke her own heart. Because she wouldn’t hear me or trust me.”

  “It’s for the best,” she said. “We’re colleagues.”

  “Not for long. Turns out I’m not fundraising material. And you need your dog back on duty, which will only happen if Roxy’s gone.”

  He was so matter of fact now that she wondered if she’d imagined the feeling a moment before. But when she slid off the desk, she nearly collapsed. Her heart might doubt but her knees surely believed.

  Tiller reached out to steady her. “You’ve had a long day. Let me drive you home.”

  She shook her head. “I need the walk.”

  “Then let me walk you home. It’s two a.m.”

  “I’m okay, really.”

  “Fine. Be that way.”

  He trudged upstairs, grumbling about “stubborn women” as he went. Remi truly felt in the dungeon now. It was cold, damp and… lonely. Even with her canine partner in crime back where he belonged. Something had changed. The Remi who’d walked down these stairs eight years ago was small and distant in her memory, as if looking through a rearview mirror.

  To anchor herself in the present, she watched the video again and again, noticing something new each time. She saw how Roxy stood back, allowing Leo to get the best chance at the couch carcass. She wasn’t a bad dog, after all.

  Tiller’s footsteps thudded around upstairs for a bit and then he called back down. “Still watching? We’ll bring tha
t count up to a mill before the night’s through. Our dogs are rock stars.”

  Warmth radiated from her core into her cool hands and bare feet. He didn’t hate her for hating him. It was pretty decent of him, really.

  “Go home.” His voice was faraway. He must be at the front door.

  She walked over to the shredder and gave the button a jab. She turned it off in time to hear him laugh before he slammed the door.

  Chapter 16

  Dorset Hills was known for its warm, homey hospitality, and small inns and guesthouses were a dime a dozen. Classy hotels, on the other hand, were decidedly scarce. There were only two to choose from: the Larkson, a recently renovated boutique hotel near the marsh, and The Duke of York, which was nearly as stuffy as it sounded. Remi had correctly assumed Hannah would choose the Larkson Grand Hotel, with its marble and mirrors. She hadn’t expected James to prefer the Duke. It said a lot that they could be so different yet still so fond of each other. She hoped she’d find that kind of bond with her own brother, eventually. He’d left Dog Town behind and they didn’t have the Pembertons’ money and worthy causes to bring them together.

  Hannah was sitting under a large pink umbrella on the patio and staring out at the marsh when Remi walked around the side of the hotel on Monday morning. She came here often enough for drinks to know where guests usually hung out. Still, she hesitated. Hannah’s coffee was untouched and she looked despondent.

  It seemed best to send an emissary. She set Leo on the patio stones, and he trotted directly over to Hannah. Resting his muzzle on her lap, he wagged so hard his tail spun in circles. Her smile came out from behind the clouds, and she scooped him up.

  “Oh, I was so glad to hear you were safe, you little rascal. Did you eat a whole quail? Did you?” Leo wriggled and tried to lick her face. “No, no, no. You’ve been dumpster diving, Mister. I’d rather kiss a frog from the marsh.”

  “The things you have to do to find a prince in Dog Town,” Remi said, taking the seat opposite Hannah. She didn’t wait to be asked in case the invitation didn’t come.

  Hannah waited till Leo had settled in her lap before speaking. “I’m sorry about what happened, Remi. I wasn’t myself. This trip has brought back too many memories, I’m afraid.”

 

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