by Ash Harlow
Marlo double-checked the gate’s lock and alarm and grabbed some composure before she gestured for Adam to follow her. The entire walk to her office, he kept slightly behind her, as if she was under escort.
Another day of sun had left enough warmth to heat the evening. Along the barely lit path, crickets chattered, falling silent as they passed. Marlo moved with confidence. This was her territory—her own refuge— and she could walk this blindfolded.
“Mind the step,” she warned, barely wiping the smile from her lips when she heard Adam stumble on the uneven flagstones outside the office door. Stellar night vision was obviously not one of his super-powers.
She switched on the light and stepped into her office. Along one wall was a well-worn sofa which was often occupied by a dog or two, as were the two armchairs facing it. In the corner, an area was penned off and held a couple of dog beds, a useful space for any rescues needing extra people-time. A row of hooks held coats, hats, spare leashes, and collars. Out the back were the storeroom, bathroom and kitchen.
She placed her phone and paperwork on her desk as she passed by it, heading to the kitchen. “Take a seat.” She gestured to the armchairs. “I need tea. Will you have a cup?”
“I’d love some, thank you. I thought you Americans only drank coffee.” The smile he flashed crinkled the corners of his eyes.
Ignoring his attempt at charm, she continued through to the kitchen and grabbed two mugs. “You’d be surprised,” she called back. “We’re quite sophisticated in Halo Peak.”
“It’s not the first thing that surprised me about this place.”
Marlo jumped. He was right behind her. When had he moved from the office? One of the mugs slipped from her hand to the floor, breaking into thick chunks.
“Easy there. I didn’t mean to startle you.”
That’s twice now. She crouched to the floor to clear up the pieces. “I’m not usually clumsy.” Adam had followed her move to the floor, and his nearness did something really weird to her nerves.
“Here, you missed this.” He held out a small shard, and when she reached for it, he met her with a clear smile. She froze, just for a short moment as she waited for the smile to fade, but he stood and she found herself watching him turn and walk back through to the office. Her jangling nerves settled and that little heart-stutter steadied as she rose and continued making the tea.
It had taken Adam fourteen hours since meeting up with the CRAR driver to travel from Utah to the Dog Haven Sanctuary in Washington State. Mix jet lag in with the intense concentration needed to drive on the wrong side of the road, and he was exhausted. All he wanted was food, a hot shower, and his bed. He took a mouthful of tea, wincing at the bitter taste before swallowing. Not the floral blend he’d been expecting, this tea was straight green, brisk and without embellishment. He placed the mug on the desk.
“I guess you’d like to know why I’m here.”
Marlo nodded.
“I’m researching illegal dog fighting for a South Pacific-based group. It’s a broad brief, including intelligence gathering and investigation of the bust, forensics, prosecution, and—the main reason I’m in your office—what happens to the dogs once an operation is taken down.”
He removed a file from his bag and, using his lean thighs as a temporary desktop, opened it, scanned the contents, and summarized as he read aloud to her. “Obviously you’ve met Assassin. He is one of thirty-two pit bull terriers, collectively named the Richmond Thirty-Two, seized from a dog fighting syndicate in Richmond County, Virginia. Unfortunately, Assassin failed to pass a single evaluation test for rehab potential, nor does his temperament qualify him for permanent sanctuary. They’ve written a list of issues that combine to pin him with the classification of extremely dangerous.”
Marlo’s eyes widened. “You’re kidding me. That dog out there is doing pancake impressions and someone’s labeled him extremely dangerous?”
He fanned through the file notes. “So it would seem.” As he focused back on the pages, the words became a meaningless jumble on the paper. His eyes were gritty, and he would happily grab an hour’s sleep if he could slide a little deeper into the chair. He drew a breath of concentration and read on. “A highlighted section states Assassin was so shut down that the testing couldn’t be completed.”
“Hell, poor dog.”
“He was scheduled for euthanasia, but something went wrong with communications and—this is bizarre and tragic—the thirty-one other dogs from the seizure in Richmond were euthanized, with Assassin being spared. It leaves a situation where it is absolutely vital no harm comes to Assassin—”
“Justice.”
“Pardon me?”
“Justice,” Marlo repeated. “In recognition of the other dogs rescued with him. His new name should be Justice.”
There was calm appeal in her amber eyes, and he was sucked right in as he wondered how often that look got her what she wanted. “Details of the case, the dog, and anything in connection with them are strictly embargoed. No media, no journalists, no photos or videos, and definitely no social network sharing.”
She was nodding. “I get it. I’ve done this before.”
“Of course.” Adam returned to the notes. “I’ve got the results of the evaluation testing they were able to complete, which will be useful to you if I can locate them.”
“I doubt that.”
“You doubt what?” Adam continued to rummage through the file, spilling some of the papers onto the floor. He bent to pick them up. Now she had him rattled.
“I doubt that his test results will be of any value to me.”
“And why is that?” He raised an eyebrow and felt one corner of his mouth lift with it. Damn, she was nice to watch. Her hair was mid-brown accented with gold when the light caught it. The same color was matched by a few freckles sprinkled over her nose and across her cheeks.
He’d noticed her smooth economy of movement when she’d been around Justice, nothing jerky or quick that would startle the dog. But here in the office she was all tight and wiry with the sort of contained energy that made her look as though she could achieve vertical take-off at will. “And why is that?”
“It’s a handicap for the dog to be defined by his past. I prefer to start with a blank slate and work with what presents itself on the day. My techniques can be different than those used by shelter employees, and the situation here at the Sanctuary is different from the county shelters. Less stressful, I hope. We can all run similar tests and achieve entirely different results. I don’t want to sound rude, but maybe now that there’s only the one dog left from the dog fighting syndicate, this won’t make a very useful study. I can talk to CRAR…they can probably find a more appropriate group for you to work with.”
Was it him in particular she objected to or simply the nuisance of having an observer forced upon her? She’d have to get used to it. He wouldn’t be around for long. Observe, report, fly home. Simple. “We have to work together and help each other out. Whether you believe it or not, this could be very good for dogs all over the world.”
She frowned, and her shoulders dropped as a little of the fight left her. “I don’t need any help.” The phrase sounded worn.
“I do.” He smiled.
“I’ll be honest with you, Adam. I’m usually left to work alone, and I’m not sure about this interference. It’s distracting.”
A soft laugh fell with his next breath. “They warned me you were a maverick.” He gathered his papers and stood to leave. “Thanks for the tea. I’ll be back here in the morning.” He turned and walked from the office into a moonless country night.
Chapter Two
Marlo’s night on an airbed, in the kennel with Justice, had been futile. He remained a lump in the corner, never once seeking any connection with her.
Unable to sleep, she had moved Justice from her mind and Adam slid right in. Adam the distraction…if she’d asked him to spend the night in the kennel with Justice, he might have accepted her offer t
o find him a different group of dogs to work with. She’d missed her chance, so now she had two males causing trouble.
At dawn she crouched near Justice, speaking gently. She encouraged him to stand, but he just stared at a space over her right shoulder. “You need to pee, Justice.” The blank stare never wavered.
“Around here we have a routine. In the morning, you go outside for your toilet then you come back in for breakfast. Let me show you.” She bent down, ran her hands along his body then slid them beneath him to help him up, but he either wouldn’t or couldn’t support himself. When she released him, he simply crumpled back to the bedding. Except now he added full body trembling to the picture of misery.
“Oh, hell, buddy.” Marlo reached under and picked him up again to carry him to the grass area. His loose skin slid over his bones, and he was way too light, but that wasn’t her immediate concern. Justice became stiff when she’d lifted him. She stood, cradling him, speaking softly, waiting for him to relax and nestle against her body the way the dogs usually did. Instead he faced away with his eyes closed, and somehow managed to angle himself off her body, so that they had as little physical contact as possible.
“Dude, you need to relax,” she whispered as she carried him to the grass and lowered him to the ground. Justice didn’t sniff or cock his leg; he simply squatted and peed where she had placed him. When he’d finished, he crouched low and crawled a few feet away, to lie on the grass. And stare at nothing.
Marlo’s teeth clenched and she closed her eyes for a couple of beats to damp down the despair that was starting to build. They’d delivered her a dog, but his spirit had been lost in transit.
The sunrise had begun to illuminate Halo Peak as she headed up the path to her house. The walk only took a few minutes, but it would stretch her limbs, which were stiff from the night spent in the kennel. Even in the fresh morning light, Adam hovered like meadow mist in the forefront of her mind.
Fala, her elderly dog, greeted her at the door. “You’ve just got up, you lucky old thing,” she murmured, giving Fala’s head and neck a good scratch. “Did you miss me through the night? Did you even wake?”
They had met as runaways when they’d both needed rescuing nine years ago and their bond remained unbreakable. She crouched and gave the old girl a kiss on the top of her head. “I know you’re supposed to be retired, but I’m hoping you’re up for one more job. We’ve a sad boy down in quarantine, and I think he needs your help.”
Fala wagged her tail and made an arthritic lunge for Marlo’s chin to cover it with kisses.
“That, I take it, would be a yes?”
After feeding Fala, she collected a bowl of food and returned to Justice’s enclosure. He was still out on the grass in a patch of sunlight where she had carried him earlier. After placing the bowl of food by his head, she sank down beside him. Marlo couldn’t name one dog at the Sanctuary that was able to resist roast chicken, but when she held a piece near Justice’s nose, he continued to stare vacantly beyond her.
Her eyes burned. Usually she was a master at holding things together, hiding her emotions, but this closed-off dog was getting to her. She reached to rub his face, noticing the thick scarring of old injuries and the puckered pink of fresh wounds. As her fingers touched him, he trembled. “If you won’t eat in front of me, I’ll leave the food in your kennel. When you’re hungry, you can go back inside and eat it.”
Back in her office, she phoned Mae. If anyone in the CRAR organization could help her, her former guardian would be top of the list.
“How’s your new boarder?”
“He’s a mess. The worst I’ve had through the Sanctuary. He has the animation of a pancake. A really sad pancake, if that’s possible.”
Mae seemed to consider this before continuing. “He was scheduled to be euthanized. What do you think?”
Marlo pictured the scrap of a dog with the vacant stare and knew in her heart that he deserved some joy on this earth. Somebody had to make it up to him. “I think they were wrong. Maybe they believe he’s too far gone, but there’s always a way in. It’s up to me to locate the key.”
“Well, you’ll be the one to find it, girl.”
“I hope so.” Marlo paused. “Something else I’d like to ask you.”
“Go on.”
“Justice had an escort last night.”
“So, you’ve met the Kiwi? Isn’t he divine?”
“He’s a New Zealander? Okay. Yes, he’s all right, I suppose. I didn’t take much notice of him, really.” How easily that little lie slipped out. She couldn’t recall ever noticing a man the way she’d noticed Adam. “He’s coming back again today.”
“Is that a problem?”
Marlo sighed. “It’s a distraction.”
“I can imagine.” Mae laughed. “It’s not how this was planned, but planning went into flames with the accidental euthanasia of all those Richmond dogs. Adam is investigating the feasibility of setting up a specialized unit to combat dog fighting in the Asia/Pacific region. An organization called APAW, Asia Pacific Animal Welfare, contracted him to come over and study what we do in the U.S. He’ll be shadowing a few groups, looking at everything from initial intelligence gathering to raids, rehabilitation for the dogs, prosecution—the entire process.
“He can tell you more about it. You can imagine the thirty-two dogs rescued from Richmond were shaping to be the ideal project for him. Now there’s only one dog, and you on the rehab side of things, so you get Adam to yourself!”
Marlo sighed. “You know I like to work alone, Mae.”
“Well, unfortunately, the dog and Adam are a package. We have no say in the matter. If you’re not comfortable, I can move Assassin to another facility.”
“No. No, he stays with me. I renamed him Justice, and I’ve made him a promise. It’s okay; I’ll handle working with Adam.” She knew the despair of broken promises, and she wouldn’t make a promise herself unless she was confident she could keep it.
“So you’ve renamed him; that’s my girl! Justice is a fine name. I’m sure we’ll get him the justice he deserves.”
Marlo could hear the warmth in Mae’s voice. In a sense, she was Mae’s girl. Mae had no kids of her own and had taken her in nine years earlier. Marlo’s own mother had been close to useless when she was alive. She had brought home a collection of faceless, deadbeat men—and Marlo still had no clue about the identity of her real father. Mae had picked her up as a runaway, ensured she finished her schooling, and helped her through her Applied Animal Behavior degree. Now, she basked a little in the blanket of care that the love in Mae’s voice wrapped around her, allowing herself to relax and release the increasing worry for a moment.
Digging deep, she could find that inner child aged four or five, sitting on the kitchen counter while her mother made them dinner. In those days, singing show tunes with a four-year-old was the only thing her mother needed to get high. That was before the slide.
A couple of years later she had watched her mom wrestle with her love for her daughter while keeping the interest of her current bad-boyfriend choice. Begging for attention when a boyfriend was around was asking for trouble, and Marlo was a quick learner. In no time, she’d mastered the art of quiet existence.
She pulled herself back to the moment. She might not have wanted the details of Justice’s past but Adam was a whole different issue. “I was wondering…what’s Adam’s background?”
Mae paused before answering. “Adam’s with the police.”
“Oh.”
“He’s on sabbatical, here doing research. Marlo, listen to me?”
Unease made a cold creep through her veins. “Listening.”
“He’s okay. I wouldn’t have let Adam near you if he hadn’t checked out. You’ll be fine.”
Marlo said goodbye and hung up. Maybe Justice could give up some space in his kennel, and they could be pancakes together.
Through the windows, she saw Lulah coming up the drive on her bike.
A friend and
assistant trainer, Lulah was a riot of color that went way beyond high-viz cycling gear as she carried the be-safe-be-seen theme right through to this weeks purple streaks in her hair, the rainbow socks, and an alarmingly bright yellow pair of vintage running shoes. Lulah left the gravel driveway and rode hard to build some speed before she jumped off a small bank and went through an irrigation ditch. Gathering speed again, she jumped a small log and landed in the parking area, all while singing, “Yes, sir, I can boogie” at the top of her voice. She parked her bike and bounced into the office.
“Hey there, boss,” she shouted at Marlo. “How’s the new boy? Is he handsome? Can I see him?”
For a moment, Marlo had forgotten about Justice and wondered how Lulah already knew about Adam. “He’s a…oh, you mean the new dog?”
“Uh, yuh!”
“Sure, we can see him in a bit. He’s having quiet time right now.”
“Shut down?”
“Completely shut down.”
“Angry?”
“Quiet.”
“Oh, the strong and silent type.”
She could have been talking about Adam or Justice. But Adam was hardly silent.
Both women looked up as they heard a car turn up the driveway, creating a trail of dust in its wake.
“Incoming,” remarked Lulah.
They watched Adam park his car, get out and go to the back seat to delve about.
“Who’s that?”
“I was about to tell you; the new dog came with a personal escort.”
“The new dog’s escort has a nice ass.” Lulah whistled.
“Lulah!”
“What? The guy has a nice ass. Appreciating beauty in physical bodies isn’t the sole domain of construction workers, you know.”
Marlo laughed. “Don’t let him hear you.”