They got out of the car and crunched over the gravel to the start of the trail. Cori, Nika and Maisie were perched along the platform at the chow-chow’s feet. The dog was majestic, with a gorgeous ruff. His soft eyes looked out over the valley below—or they would if the brush were cleared. Bridget felt bad for the chow, stuck out here all alone. The City hadn’t included him on maps or the bus tour to discourage people from using unmaintained trails. He was orphaned, like the dogs they saved.
Cori got up and motioned for Bridget to take her place. “Sit down, Bee. I have some bad news. Geronimo, the bichon-corgi cross you placed, needs to be extracted.”
“Geronimo?” Bridget jumped to her feet immediately. “How can that be? Tina Munro was the perfect owner.”
“Until she hooked up with a loser,” Cori said. “And then left him and Geronimo. One of their neighbors is part of the rescue network. She says the dog is a mess—left outside day and night.”
Tears sprang to Bridget’s eyes. “Geronimo’s a lapdog. He’s not built for outdoor kenneling.”
“There’s no kennel. Just a cardboard box, apparently. My informant is worried about how the dog will fare when it gets colder. He howls all the time as it is.”
Nika pulled tissues out of her bag and passed them around. Everyone except Cori was crying. Maisie’s were angry tears, and she scraped them away with her sleeve. “He’s the sweetest dog I ever groomed. Let’s get him out of there today.”
“The loser boyfriend apparently leaves for work at three,” Cori said. “If we wait till sundown, we won’t be seen.”
Bridget paced back and forth. “Why didn’t Tina just give him back? My contract says the dog must be returned if the owner’s circumstances change.”
“From what I hear, she left in a hurry a couple of weeks ago after a huge fight,” Cori said. “But my contact expected Tina to come back for the dog so she didn’t call right away. Today she saw an eagle circling the yard, and Geronimo’s small enough to be in trouble.”
Bridget kicked a shrub, got her boot tangled, and nearly fell. “Let’s deploy.”
“Wait, Bee.” Duff’s voice was calm. “Think this through.”
“There’s nothing to think about.” Bridget paced again. “One of my dogs is in danger.”
Duff stepped in front of her. “Diplomacy over combat, remember? If we steal the dog, it might make the news, and we don’t want press like that before the pageant. Maybe it’s better to go in and convince the guy it’s in his best interest to return the dog.”
“I don’t think I could face him.” Bridget stepped around Duff. “Let’s just get in and get out.”
“Agreed,” Cori said. Nika and Maisie echoed the word.
Duff held firm. “I know it’s your right to reclaim the dog, but even in these circumstances, it’s going to cause talk. People will say you chose the wrong winner in Tina. This is the first time one of your matches has ever gone wrong, Bridget. It could make people doubt the whole process. Better to keep it quiet, if we can. Just ask him nicely for the dog back.”
Cori turned on Duff. “She doesn’t need to be nice to someone abusing a dog—a dog we all cared for and trained.”
“Look at the subtleties, Cori. Bridget contracted with the girlfriend. It should be easy enough to get him to surrender Geronimo. He might even be grateful to be rid of him. Then we can look after the dog and keep it all quiet.”
Bridget rubbed her forehead with both hands. “There’s a limit to how fake I can be.”
“Just think strategically,” Duff pressed.
“But what if he doesn’t hand over the dog? Then it will get even uglier than if we just extracted Geronimo in the first place.”
“I’m sure you can talk him into it.”
“You can talk him into it while I sit on my hands to keep from strangling him,” Bridget said.
“Possibly, but it probably makes more sense for me to go meet with Mike at City Hall. We can’t afford to cancel that.”
Bridget walked over to the bronze chow-chow and ran her hands over his cold metal flank. Then she rested her hot forehead against him. “Poor little Geronimo. I think I’m going to be sick.”
Cori looked up from her phone. “If we’re going to talk to this guy, we’ve got about an hour before he leaves for work. Deploy?”
“Deploy,” Bridget said.
Daniel Quinto moved out of the doorway to allow them to pass and then gestured to the living room. Bridget, Cori and Nika all sat on the loveseat. It was a tight fit.
Bridget got up again. Daniel was about her height and she wanted to meet him eye to eye.
“Thanks for seeing us, Daniel. As I said, we’re just doing quick check-ins on our past pageant winners before Thanksgiving. I can’t wait to see Geronimo. He was one of my favorites.”
Daniel wasn’t tall, but he was broad. His face would be handsome if not for small, cold eyes. Why hadn’t Tina noticed the eyes? When Bridget interviewed her two years ago, Tina was engaged to a great guy. Daniel must have been the rebound mistake.
“You’re better to come back when Tina’s here,” he said. “The dog’s fine but he never really took to me. I don’t think much of froufrou dogs.”
“Most men like big dogs,” Bridget said, forcing up the corners of her lips. “Is he outside? I’ll pop out and see him.”
She took a step toward the kitchen, and Daniel swiftly blocked her path. “Come back another day.”
A chill went down Bridget’s spine. It might be three against one, but she suspected Daniel would be a match for all of them. “We’re here now. I have 20 more dogs to visit in just over a week.”
He shrugged. “Not my problem.”
“Well, Tina would want me to see Geronimo, I’m sure.”
“You don’t know Tina as well as you think you do. She let that dog get away with murder. He barks all the time and bit me a few times.”
“That’s awful! It sounds like I messed up his training.” Bridget turned away from Cori. “I had better take Geronimo back for a while to correct these things.”
Daniel crossed his arms. “No.”
Bridget gave a hard, bright smile. “It’s in my contract. I’m obligated to rehabilitate the dog if it’s not meeting expectations.”
“Your contract is with Tina. And this little brat apparently meets her expectations. So the dog stays until she gets back to deal with him.”
Bridget’s breaths came short and fast. She forced herself to slow down, for the good of the dog. “Where is she, anyway?”
“Ask her.”
“Sure. Cori, can you text Tina now? We’ll just wait.”
Daniel raised his shoulders a little in a shrug. “You’ll be waiting awhile.”
“That’s okay. There’s nothing more important to me than the welfare of my dogs.” Bridget wedged herself between Cori and Nika. “Tell us about yourself, Daniel.”
He lowered himself slowly into an armchair and shook his head.
“Not much for small talk, I guess?”
“Not with dog crazies,” he said. “You guys have wrecked this town for normal people like me.”
Cori’s left hand balled into a fist, but she kept her eyes on her phone. They’d agreed Bridget would do all the talking, and miraculously, she’d kept her word.
“I hear you,” Bridget said. “Dorset Hills is a bit much, isn’t it?”
“I gotta get out of this town,” he said. “Geronimo will like it better down south where the sun shines.”
“Wouldn’t we all?” Bridget’s tinkly laugh sounded like it belonged to someone else.
Cori’s phone buzzed and she jumped to her feet. “We’ll need to postpone, Bridget. Time for your meeting at City Hall.”
Daniel didn’t move so much as an eyebrow. “Let yourselves out, ladies.”
“We will,” Bridget said. “Nice to meet you, Daniel. I’ll be back when I hear from Tina, okay?”
“Can’t wait,” he said.
By the time they reached Cori�
�s truck, Daniel was in the doorway, watching.
Cori backed out of the driveway and drove off slowly. “Times like this, I wish we were mafia for real,” she said.
“Brains over bloodshed,” Bridget said, heaving a sigh as she leaned back in her seat.
Chapter 14
Duff stood on a portable stage set up in Seaton Dog Park, quietly issuing directions to a dozen volunteers. It was another remarkably beautiful Saturday for November. Duff couldn’t take credit for that, but what she had pulled off so far was nothing short of amazing. By this point, a week and a half before Thanksgiving, Bridget was usually overwhelmed and things started falling through the cracks. Nothing fell through the cracks on Duff’s watch. She was a machine, gesturing here and there with a pencil. Nika rolled a red carpet down a ten-foot runway, as two men set up monitors so that the crowd could get a good look at the rescue dogs in their formal debut. Maisie was brushing and fluffing the dogs behind a hay bale barrier, and Cori was organizing the pageant’s human contestants as they came into the park.
“What am I supposed to be doing?” Bridget asked. “Seems like I’m the only one without a job.”
“Without you, no one would have a job,” Duff said. “But since you asked… your job is to look good and play nice with others.”
“Ugh.” Bridget rolled her eyes. “Can’t I just get my hands dirty?”
“Not before glad-handing the mayor.”
“If he even shows up.”
“Mike promised he’d be here. And I want you to turn on some serious charm with the mayor’s cronies and any other local business representatives. Don’t leave his side, and flirt if you have to, because sponsorships are down a bit this year.”
“That’s because of the venue. No one’s big on the hills. I should have gone for the beach after all.”
Duff looked around the dog park. “Honestly, Bee, your instincts were right. Seaton is the perfect venue for the pageant. We just need to convince the mayor of that today.”
“It’s too late to change the venue. Everyone knows it’s at Clifford’s Crest.”
“Like it’s ever hard to spread the word in Dog Town,” Duff said. “Just whisper something and 500 people will know in an hour.”
“True enough.” Bridget started setting up folding chairs on the stage. “The problem is keeping things quiet.”
“Which is why stealing Geronimo was insane.” Duff’s voice dropped to a low growl. “Someone’s going to talk.”
“It’s not stealing when it’s my dog.” She gave Duff a defiant look. “I tried it your way, but when the charm offensive failed, I reclaimed him.”
“Daniel called the police, Bee.”
Luckily, by the time he got around to it, several neighbors had already called the cops and animal services to report seeing an eagle fly off with poor Geronimo. Falsely, of course. The little dog was far away from Dorset Hills and safe now.
“Hopefully the police will track down Tina and make sure she’s okay,” Bridget said. “I can’t believe she’d leave a dog with that guy. He’s sinister.”
Duff pointed her pen at Bridget. “Please try to stay out of trouble. You need to take this seriously.”
Bridget snapped a chair open with such force that it came apart. “I am taking it seriously. I know what’s at stake. But rescuing dogs will always come first to me.” She took a few breaths, and then put the chair back together. “If I have to lose the house and move into your basement, I will.”
“I don’t have a basement, remember?”
“Right, so we’ll sell my house at a profit and buy one together. Maybe that’s what we should have done in the first place.”
Duff smiled in spite of herself. “Call me old-fashioned, but I’d like to set up house with a guy. I haven’t given up on love.”
“I have.” Bridget rested her hand on Beau’s head. “I’ve got all I need right here.”
“Look, Bee. People already talk about us enough without you joking that you’re married to your dog.”
“Not married. Just in a deeply fulfilling relationship with a male who only wants to please and never talks back.”
“In other words, not a man. Look, just keep your weird to yourself when the mayor gets here.” Duff appraised her friend. “You look great, by the way. Did you straighten your hair yourself?”
“Yep. Nearly passed out from the effort. As for the clothes, I actually feel pretty good.” She did a pirouette. “I guess my transformation is complete.”
“If you’re stealing dogs, you’re the old Bridget. Be the new Bridget.”
“Lions take what they need, Duff.”
Duff gave her a little shove. “I regret that analogy. Now, I want you to be the eye of the storm. Let everyone else buzz around, while you stay calm and in your genius zone.”
“Works for me.” Bridget perched on a folding chair. “You’re doing all the work and I’m sitting pretty. Genius, right?”
“Stay.” Duff moved towards the stairs. “When the mayor arrives, you know what to do.”
Bridget sighed, but she was actually happy taking orders from Duff. At first it had been hard to trust that anyone could do the work as well as she could. Now that she wasn’t burdened with set design, promotion and myriad other details, however, she could do what she did best—focus on matching dogs and people. Apparently, all she had to do was remain the calm center. If only she’d ever had a calm center.
“Hey. I see you survived your tadpole expedition.”
Sullivan was standing beside the stage, and for once he was without his sidekick. Bridget came to the side of the stage and jumped down lightly. He steadied her with one hand on the small of her back. It took her a second to realize she should move away. Even through her coat, his hand felt… nice. Calming.
“Sorry for taking off like that,” she said, finally moving aside. “I just couldn’t bear seeing the bride’s face when the dogs came in.”
“Or the bride’s dress after Peaches jumped on her,” Sullivan said. “What a mess.”
“I paid for dry cleaning. I guess I should pay for yours, too. I’m assuming you stank as much as I did?”
“Almost,” he said, and smiled. “Luckily the hotel staff found me a shower curtain to wrap myself in so I didn’t get muck all over the car.”
Bridget couldn’t help grinning at the image. “Did you get a picture?”
“Like I’d show you.” He grinned back. “Wish I’d taken one of you before you skulked off. Waste of a pretty dress.”
Heat flared in Bridget’s cheeks. “May it rest in peace. Couldn’t be saved.”
“What a shame,” said Grace. She’d appeared out of nowhere, as she often did at the bistro. She took up less space than normal people.
“I hate dresses anyway,” Bridget said. “At least, I used to.”
“Something’s changed?” Sullivan asked.
Bridget sighed. “Pretty much everything’s changing.”
She didn’t mean anything in particular, but Sullivan’s smile faded. “Sorry you had to hear about the marsh that way.”
“Maybe Bridget doesn’t mind so much now,” Grace said. “The marsh is gross.”
“It’s beautiful to me,” Bridget said. “I see value in things others throw away.”
Sullivan pressed his lips together as if to bite off harsh words. When he spoke, his voice was pleasant. “I’m sure you’ll find tadpoles there next spring, as always.”
Keep it light, keep it fake, Bridget told herself. “Well, time marshes on, even in Dorset Hills.” She backed a few steps away. “Guess I’d better marsh back to work.”
“Wait.” Sullivan shoved his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket. “Bridget, I’m not trying to stir up trouble, I promise you. But I wanted you to know that your dogs have been barking.”
She stood very still. “What do you mean? All dogs bark sometimes.”
“Not like this. They’re—uh, I don’t know—howling. Like a—” He changed course. “I just t
hought you’d want to know.”
“Like a what?” she pressed.
“Honestly? Like a pack of coyotes. All different sounds, like the craziest dog choir ever.”
“That’s ridiculous.” Bridget stared at him. “I’ve been home every night. You’ve got the wrong dogs.”
Sullivan looked away from her angry gaze. “I’ve heard it in daytime. But it is your dogs, I’m sure of that.”
Bridget turned away. “I don’t believe you. And I’m not going to get upset before this event. It’s too important to me. Goodbye.”
Pushing the discussion out of her mind, Bridget walked to the gate where a crowd had gathered. At the center of it was Mayor Bradshaw, along with Mike, a couple of young political aides, and a few men Bridget didn’t recognize.
“There she is now, the Patron Saint of Dog Rescue,” the mayor said, taking Bridget’s hand in a firm grip. “You look lovely, hon.”
“Thank you, Mayor. Nice of you to say so.” Bridget noticed that it hardly hurt at all to be pleasant. Perhaps it would stick and she’d be fake year-round. “I’m so glad you could make it today. This is going to melt your heart.”
“You’re assuming I have one,” he teased, guiding her toward the stage with a hand behind her elbow.
Along the way, others were sucked in by the mayor’s gravitational pull, including Sullivan and Grace.
“Oh, sir, I know all about your poodle, Princess,” Bridget said. “Any man who owns a dog has a big heart. Any man without one is suspect.”
“I tend to agree with you there,” the mayor said. He waved Mike and his retinue away as they walked. “Now, tell me about what’s happening today.”
Bridget stuck to the mayor like a burr for the next half hour, smiling, joking and mingling as if her career depended on it. Then she took him to the small VIP area Duff had cordoned off with velvet rope and sat beside him. Duff caught her eye from the stage and winked. This was all politics, Bridget supposed. And if flirting and cajoling would help save dogs in need in Dorset Hills, she was fine with that. Now that she was getting the hang of it, it felt like any other job.
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