Mim screeched as she launched herself forward. She swung the shovel and hit Scott in the stomach.
He grunted and stumbled backwards through the door, hitting Ari, who was standing just outside. Turning quickly, he grabbed her and pulled her in front of him, like a human shield.
Mim held the shovel as high as she could, given her injured arm. “Let her go.”
The light coming out of the shed was faint, but she saw the terror on Ari’s face. Then there was a flash of white and—
“Ow! She bit me!”
Ari flailed and Scott almost lost his grip, but he managed to strap her against him with the other arm, too.
Suddenly, a dark shape ran up from behind and leaped on Scott’s back. Someone hung there, with one arm around Scott’s throat, the other yanking his red hair. Mim recognized the cranberry toque.
Scott let Ari go at the same moment Mim yelled, “Kyle, don’t!”
Reaching around his back, Scott grabbed Kyle by the waist and dragged him around. He turned Kyle upside down and shook him like a doll. George raced over and started jumping again, only managing to smack Kyle in the face with his muzzle.
Kyle thrashed and Mim ran forward to help. But before she reached them, another form emerged from the darkness and tackled Scott. The big man fell, somehow managing to miss both Kyle and the dog. Kyle rolled out of reach.
The other man pinned Scott down and growled, “One move, and I slit your throat.”
It was Carver.
And he had help. A small woman knelt to press her knee into Scott’s throat.
Several flashlights lit up the clearing all at once, showing Cori’s neon finger wagging in Scott’s face. “You’re done, loser. Too bad Dorset Hills has a no-kill policy.”
“Cori, quiet,” Bridget said. “Carver, quick, give me a hand to roll him.”
Together, Carver and Bridget turned Scott onto his stomach. She pulled handcuffs from her pocket and snapped them in place. Cori took the rope Maisie tossed her and tied Scott’s feet tight.
Duff and Nika herded Mim and Kyle well out of the way. Meanwhile, Ari grabbed George and snapped, “Settle.”
“What now?” Mim said, panting.
“Leave it to the experts,” Duff said. “They’ve got it handled.”
“Let’s tie him to a tree,” Cori said. “And leave him here to freeze, like he left George.”
Carver helped them wrestle Scott upright and half-carried him to the tree, where they trussed the big man up tight.
Scott was now tied to a tree. “Ma,” he shouted. “Ma!”
“Should we gag him?” Maisie asked, quickly snapping a photo with her phone.
In the distance, car doors slammed and more voices shouted. Above them all, Mrs. Beaton’s rang out, “Scott? Scottie! Are you all right, honey?”
“Retreat,” Cori said, and the Rescue Mafia vanished into the bushes.
Officer Miles pressed Scott’s face against the wall of the shed and snapped regulation handcuffs onto his already cuffed wrists. He’d untied the rope so that Scott could walk.
“I didn’t mean any harm,” Scott said. “I was going to give the dog back tomorrow. He was already wrapped.”
Miles told him to hush and Laura, who wasn’t in uniform, read him his rights. Then she went inside to calm Mrs. Beaton, who was confused about the commotion.
“Mim, tell them,” Scott said. “We’re friends.”
Mim wrapped her good arm tightly around Kyle. “That we are not, Scott. You stole my dog, broke into my home, and just attacked my real friends. My underwear is hanging in your shed.”
Kyle shuddered. “Ew.”
“Never mind,” she said.
“I just wanted you to like me.” Scott was whining now. “You were here all the time and never noticed me. I thought if I—”
“I suggest you wait for your attorney, Mr. Beaton,” Miles said.
Scott forged on, his face still pressed against the shed, one eye pleading with Mim. “I thought if I was the one to bring back your dog on Christmas day, you’d have to like me.”
“You left a noose at my house, for god’s sake. Then you left me sitting in Bellington Square for nearly two hours, terrified.”
“I was mad,” he said. “First you replaced George with another dog right away like he never even mattered. And then I saw you kissing that guy last night. Naked.” He jerked his head in Carver’s direction.
“I wasn’t naked, he was,” Mim said.
“If you call a bathrobe naked,” Carver said.
Kyle moved away from Mim. “Miles, maybe you should tell my mom she has the right to remain silent.”
Everyone laughed except Scott. Miles turned him around and said, “You’re going to be spending Christmas Eve down at the station, buddy.”
There was a scuffle inside the house. Mrs. Beaton was ramming her walker repeatedly into Laura, in an attempt to get to the door.
“Scottie,” she called. “What is going on?”
“Nothing, ma,” he said. “Stay inside.”
“I will not. What are they doing to you? This lady won’t tell me anything.”
“That lady is a police officer,” Miles called.
“I don’t understand,” Mrs. Beaton said. From where she stood in the doorway, she couldn’t see that Scott’s hands were cuffed behind him.
Mim stepped out of the shadows. “It’s going to be fine, Mrs. Beaton. You need to get off that foot right now.”
“Mim Gardiner! What are you doing here? In my backyard on Christmas Eve?”
Scott’s head was hanging so low his chin was on his chest. “Don’t tell her,” he muttered.
“Tell her,” Ari said. “She deserves to know that her son’s a sick bastard.”
Mim struggled over what to say. Mrs. Beaton had coddled Scott, but Mim truly believed she had no clue about how troubled he really was. And by all appearances, he’d taken good care of her.
“Everything’s okay, Mrs. Beaton,” Mim called. “Someone called saying they saw my dog in your area. We all followed his trail here and found him in your shed. Perfectly fine. So, please go sit down.”
“Wonderful news,” the old woman called. “You got your George back for Christmas. And Scott helped you find him. Does he get the reward?”
Chapter 22
A light snow had begun to fall by the time the police marched Scott around the front of the Beatons’ house.
Mim wasn’t expecting a crowd in the street near the police cars, or the van from the TV station that had interviewed her earlier in the day. It seemed so long ago now, but the same reporter, an elfin woman in her twenties, looked impossibly fresh as she came over with the cameraman. The last thing Mim wanted to do at that moment was speak to the press, but she knew she had to make a statement. Otherwise, the rumor mill would run wild.
The crew followed Scott as he was helped into the cruiser and came back once they’d pulled out. When the cameraman turned to shoot Mrs. Beaton standing at the door, however, Mim asked him to stop. “It’s Christmas Eve. Give her a break,” she said. Poor Mrs. Beaton would find out the truth soon enough.
The reporter stationed Mim in front of a tastefully decorated fir tree on a neighbor’s lawn for the interview. Ari tried to rub the blood off Mim’s cheek with a tissue, but the reporter caught her arm. Clearly, Mim’s dishevelment would add to the drama.
Choosing her words carefully, Mim explained on camera what had happened that evening.
“You decided to take matters into your own hands?” the reporter asked.
“Yes, but I don’t advise it,” she said. “Look at me.” She gestured to her torn jacket and jeans, and pulled off one glove to reveal another bleeding cut. “It’s always better to call the authorities. I was too impatient to wait. I just wanted George back for Christmas.”
“So did hundreds of other people,” the reporter said. “Did you know that at least 20 different search parties formed tonight to search for George?”
“Seriously?�
�� Mim was taken aback. “I had no idea. That’s amazing.” Tears mingled with the snow and blood on her face. She wiped her nose with her glove, smearing blood and mascara, and wondered what Elaine would think when she saw the clip. “Then I need to thank everyone for giving up their special night for my son, my dog and me.” Kyle lurched into the shot, apparently propelled by Ari. Mim wrapped her arm around him. “Kyle’s a hero. He risked his own safety to defend us.”
The crowd behind applauded and Kyle shrank under Mim’s arm, embarrassed.
“So, Mim,” the reporter said, “what would you like to see happen to Scott Beaton after all he’s put you through?”
“I’ll leave that in the capable hands of the police,” Mim said. “But I would like to say that I’ve known his mother for nearly a year and she’s a lovely woman. I’m sorry she had to witness this.”
In the crowd, someone yelled, “You don’t mess with Dog Town.” Everyone else cheered.
The reporter jumped in to prevent the tone from souring. “People raised even more money tonight for a reward. What do you intend to do with it now, Mim?”
“That’s easy,” Mim said. “I’ll divide it between the kids’ hospital fund, dog rescues, and the Dorset Hills Dines program. We’ll be delivering meals tomorrow to people who can’t get out for Christmas, and I hope you’ll consider joining us.”
“In the spirit of giving back?” the reporter said.
“Dorset Hills has been very good to me lately,” Mim said, smiling. Ari had been right all along, she thought. When you hit a rough patch, you needed an army. Now she had one, and a mafia, too.
Kyle shouted, “Go Dog Town!”
The crowd echoed the chant and began to disperse. And as people disappeared into the thickening snow, someone began to sing Silent Night. Others joined in, and the soaring voices sent a chill down Mim’s spine—the good kind.
Carver carried another round of hot buttered rum into the living room, where Ari, Mim, Kyle and Miles had gathered around the fireplace. It was just past midnight and officially Christmas. Ari had stopped at her place on the way to collect her two litters of pups, now settled in plastic pens in Mim’s dining room. She was adamant that everyone gather at Mim’s to “cleanse the bad vibes” from the house.
Mim was all for it, since no one seemed to mind the mess. When Carver found her trying to shove a pile of old sports equipment into a closet, he simply led her back to the living room. “The New Year is the perfect time for that,” he said. “I’ll help Kyle sort through some of his stuff and deliver it to a community center.”
“Carver has a truck,” Ari pointed out with a smirk, as she walked by. “Almost as good as a bulldozer.”
“And a knight at the wheel. What more could a girl want?” Mim said.
Carver caught Mim under the mistletoe that Ari had hung in the living room doorway and kissed her shamelessly and thoroughly in front of everyone.
“Don’t mind me,” Kyle said. “I’ll just gouge my eyes out over here.”
Laughing, Carver led Mim to the fire. “Why don’t you invite your new girl over here and give it a whirl, Kyle?”
“What new girl?” Mim asked, looking from one to the other.
“Just someone he mentioned when he was helping me shovel the other day,” Carver said.
“I thought Kyle had forgotten how to hold a shovel,” Mim said.
“I gave him some pointers,” Carver said. “Any red-blooded man likes to shovel. Right Miles?”
“True,” Miles said, grinning. “Nice lines, precise piles… love it.”
“Well, you’ll have plenty of opportunity tomorrow,” Ari said, pointing to the window. The curtains were wide open on the back yard. Carver had draped several long strings of multicolored lights over Mim’s fence and each bulb had a cap of snow.
There were more lights on a fir tree that stood right outside the window. Carver and Miles had disappeared earlier, apparently looking for a grocery store that was open late. They arrived back with the tree, which Mim suspected came from Scott’s closed tree lot. She was glad Carver had had a cop along for the ride.
It was a gorgeous view, and Mim settled on the floor by the fire, facing the window. She was full from the eclectic meal they’d scavenged, including steak from Carver, and some fine cheeses that would never make it to Miles’ family’s celebration the next day. Carver slipped into the chair behind Mim and she leaned back against his legs, allowing the tension to drain out and something else to take its place. She suspected it was “comfort and joy,” but she hadn’t experienced them for years.
George curled up in Mim’s lap and she stroked his fur, which was still damp from his bath. He was a bit thin, and had a couple of small sores that Ari assured her would heal quickly. Otherwise, he was unharmed by his adventure. He’d slept pretty much since he got home, waking every so often to deliver a frenzied greeting all over again. Mim had worried he’d take issue with Jezebel but the two hit it off immediately.
“Could you stop crying, Mom? It’s getting embarrassing,” Kyle said. He was lounging on the floor too, poking George on occasion just to get a reaction.
Mim picked George up and smothered him with kisses. “I don’t care. I’ve got my second son back.”
“Neither one listens to you,” Ari said.
Mim was still angry that Kyle had hitchhiked from the tree lot to the Beaton’s house. In fact, he was already en route when he texted.
“It’s a good thing I didn’t, Ari,” Kyle said. “I got there in time to save your life.” Kyle flexed his meager biceps and everyone laughed. “Plus, I was the only one smart enough to tell Carver the plan.”
“I called the Mafia instead,” Ari said. She leaned over to tousle his hair. “Your ratings are climbing, Kyle, and that’s why you are getting a very special Christmas gift. I’ll let you see it early.”
She got up and headed toward the dining room.
“Arianna Torrance, you’d better not be doing what I think you’re doing,” Mim called after her. “I absolutely forbid it.”
Ari came back with her arms full of three fat puppies.
Kyle’s face lit up. “I get to choose?”
“Of course not,” Ari said. “No one gets to choose my puppies, you know that. I have a system.” She dropped a gold-and-white pup into his waiting arms. “But you do get to name her.”
Carver raised his hands as Ari advanced on him. “No freaking way.”
“Oh yes, Mr. Black. You saved my life too, so I have to thank you the best way I know how.” She placed a golden male on Carver’s lap. “Besides, you live in Dog Town now. You might as well surrender to it.”
Carver held up the puppy and inspected it from all angles. “Is this some designer mutt?”
“My house brand.” Ari placed the last pup in Miles’ lap, saying, “Just on loan.” He accepted it happily, suggesting he might just be the prince among dogs that Ari needed.
Handing his pup back to Ari, Carver said, “I’ll think about it.”
“You’ve got two weeks till they’re ready to go home,” she said. “And there’s a waiting list.”
“Ari, we can barely handle George as it is,” Mim said. “I don’t have time for a new pup.”
“You’ve just lost most of your clients,” Ari pointed out. “Don’t replace them.”
“Then I won’t have money for two dogs,” Mim countered.
“Well, first, you’ll be saving money on coffee at Puccini’s this year, since the owner promised it free to George’s rescuer. And second, I’m covering this pup’s costs. She’ll be part of my breeding program in two years. I’m moving to a foster model, where dogs live as pets and come back a few times to breed.”
Kyle turned beseeching eyes on his mother and said, “I’ll help more, I promise.”
Mim was glad to see him so engaged but she knew better. “You say that now, but you’ll get caught up and forget. Kids your age have enough going on without responsibility for a puppy.”
“Pu
ppies are chick magnets,” Miles said. “Right, Carver?”
“So I’ve heard,” Carver said. “Not that I’ve had direct experience.”
“Kyle can test your theory in the training class I signed him up for,” Ari said. “Cori’s the best trainer in town. She’ll have you and George on track in no time, Kyle. It’s part of my Christmas gift to you.”
“Thanks,” he said, rolling his eyes.
“Thanks, Ari,” Mim repeated, without the sarcasm.
“No, thank you,” Ari said. “Because of what’s happened this week, I’ve decided to go all in on my breeding business. I’ve had a ton of calls as a result of that show, Mim. And there’s nothing like a near-death experience to put things in perspective.”
Mim put George into Kyle’s lap so that she could crawl over and hug Ari. “I am so glad you’re going for it. You’re going to be huge, and I’ll help in any way I can. Except for keeping this puppy.”
“I insist.”
“No puppies,” Mim said firmly. “But if you’d like to loan Jezebel long-term, I’m open to that. She’s a wonderful dog and will set a good example for George.”
Ari thought about it. “Done.”
Sitting back, Mim looked around the room, realizing how much her life had changed in just one week. With Scott Beaton in custody, she could actually take a moment to be grateful.
“Strange to say, but this is the best Christmas I’ve ever had in my life,” she said.
There was a clamour of agreement and even Kyle chimed in.
George appeared to be the only dissenter. Disgusted by the puppy in Kyle’s lap, he walked over to Carver and rested his paws on his knees, asking to come up. Carver said, “Okay, George, but you and I really need to talk.”
Circling twice in Carver’s lap, George collapsed with a sigh. One eye fluttered at Mim, and it looked very much like a wink.
As the sun rose on Christmas Day, George stood at the top of the steps in a drift of snow that reached his chin. He looked back at the house, as if hoping that someone would shovel a path for him, but Mim just leaned her head on the door frame, clutching a mug of coffee.
The Dog Town Collection Page 45