Striking Range

by Margaret Mizushima

“Sounds like a good idea.”

  While the two were occupied with rigging him up, Mattie snatched a few moments to use her yoga breathing to center herself in as discreet a way as she could. Inhale through the nose, slow exhale through the mouth.

  Harsh, repetitive blasts erupted from an alarm in the hallway, and she almost jumped out of her skin.

  Donahue’s head came up and her eyes narrowed as she listened. Then she darted toward the doorway, brushing past Mattie in the narrow space. “Stay in here,” she ordered as she left. She closed the door behind her.

  A faint click from the doorknob echoed through the room like a gunshot. Adrenaline made Mattie’s heart pound. She tried the knob, but it wouldn’t budge. “She locked us in,” she said, her voice tight with tension.

  “Here, let me see.” Hauck pushed past her, nudging her hand aside.

  Mattie moved back a step and bumped into the wall. Trapped.

  “Well, damn,” Hauck muttered as he rattled the knob. “The whole prison must be on lockdown.”

  TWO

  Cole Walker snatched toast from the toaster, stacked it on a plate, and hustled it over to the table, where his daughter Sophie was already seated. Getting the kids ready for school each morning before he hurried off to work was like lining up horses at the gate before a race—everyone wanted to run off in a different direction, and sometimes someone balked at going anywhere.

  He plopped the plate of toast down on the table and started swiping butter onto each piece—except for Angie’s. She would want hers dry. At sixteen, his teen had developed a lot of rules about food. Blond and willowy, Angela looked a lot like her mother, while nine-year-old Sophie, who was built short and solid, seemed to take after him.

  Sophie liked her toast the way he did—slathered with golden goodness. He handed her one of the warm slices topped with melting butter. “Thanks,” she murmured as she reached for the jelly jar in the center of the table.

  Their Bernese mountain dog, Belle, finished eating her kibble and came to the table to lie down beside Sophie where the pickin’s were good. Bruno, their Doberman pinscher, had already positioned himself in his spot between Sophie’s and Cole’s chairs, where he watched Cole’s every move, his beautifully sculpted ears pricked.

  “What do you have planned at school today?” Cole asked, bumping the jar closer to Sophie.

  She tipped her freckled face up to meet his gaze with brown eyes flecked with amber. Her dark curls were tamed somewhat by a recent encounter with her hairbrush, slicked back and still damp with water and tied with a red scarf, her signature color. “We’re working on a science experiment. Today we have to weigh and measure all the plants.”

  As she spread jelly on her toast, she chattered about doling out different measurements of fertilizer, water, and artificial sunlight to an assortment of potted bean plants. Cole knew science was one of her favorite subjects and she was just getting warmed up. Sophie could talk the wire off a fence post if you let her.

  Mrs. Gibbs, their resident housekeeper, was at the stove fixing eggs. “We’ve got fifteen minutes till bus time, young lassies,” she called out, her Irish lilt music to Cole’s ears.

  Angie rushed into the room with their five-month-old Siamese kitten, Hilde, slung over the crook of her arm. Hilde’s periwinkle eyes—almost the same color as Angie’s—blinked within her dark-brown mask. The kitten appeared completely relaxed and happy being toted around. Lord knows, she’s barely set her paws on the floor since we brought her home.

  The fawn-colored kitten immediately drew Sophie’s attention, stopping her monologue midsentence. “Do you want me to get her special morning breakfast?”

  “No, I’ll do it.” Setting the kitten on the floor, Angie bustled over to the refrigerator to retrieve a partial can of soft cat food. Cole allowed Hilde soft food once a day—which the kids called “special morning breakfast”—while a bowlful of crunchy bits sat beside her water dish for her to graze on at all times. Angie spooned a serving of food into a clean bowl and headed toward the utility room with it, the kitten scampering in front of her. To keep the dogs away from Hilde’s food, they’d set up a feeding station on the utility room countertop with a step stool positioned beside it for the cat to climb up on. This many pets in the house made things complicated, but Cole loved being surrounded by animals and he appreciated the responsibilities their care taught his kids.

  “Don’t forget to scoop the litter,” he said, catching the grateful smile that Mrs. Gibbs tossed him as she spooned scrambled eggs into a bowl.

  “I won’t.” Angie disappeared inside the adjoining room. When Cole and Angie had brought the kitten home, the typically amenable housekeeper had made it clear that litter box chores did not fall within her purview.

  Mrs. Gibbs carried the bowl of eggs to the table, putting a spoonful on Sophie’s plate before setting the rest on the table.

  His phone jingled in his pocket. Caller ID told him it was a call forwarded from his office, and he answered it as he went to the refrigerator to retrieve the orange juice. “Timber Creek Veterinary Clinic.”

  “Dr. Walker, this is Ruth Vaughn.” The speaker’s words were clipped and tense.

  Cole didn’t need his client to say anything more. “Is it Sassy?”

  A hush fell over the room as Mrs. Gibbs and Sophie stopped their chatter to stare at him. Angie, her brow creased with concern, came from the utility room to listen.

  Aware that his family was hanging on to his every word, Cole tuned in to what Ruth was saying.

  “I’m sorry to call before office hours.”

  “That’s okay, Ruth. Is there a problem?”

  “Sassy started labor around midnight, and so far we’ve had no puppies. She’s panting a lot, and well … she acts like she’s in a great deal of pain.”

  Alarm nipped at Cole, but he worked at projecting calmness. “The length of labor isn’t too unusual for her first litter, but I think I’d better take a look at her.”

  Ruth released an audible sigh of relief. “I was hoping you would. I’m afraid for Sassy. We love her so much, and we can’t afford to lose these puppies.”

  Cole knew that Ruth depended on the income these pups would bring. A superb example of the German shepherd breed standard, Sassy had achieved an excellent rating for hip soundness from the Orthopedic Foundation for Animals, an organization that provided radiographic examination and counseling for canine hip dysplasia. Her pups would bring top dollar.

  More importantly, these puppies had been sired by Robo, who’d also earned an excellent rating, and they were his first litter as well. Some of these pups would probably have bright futures in the working dog industry as well as in the show arena, but they would bring a gift of joy to Cole’s family and Mattie as they grew into sturdy little replicas of Sassy and Robo.

  “Bring Sassy into the clinic so we can do an ultrasound,” Cole said. “Come in now, and I’ll meet you there.”

  “Hannah wants to come. I hope that’s all right.” Ruth sounded stressed, and he knew she’d had a tough time of it since they’d met last summer. Her teenage daughter, Hannah, had been a staunch source of support for her mother during their transition from living in a strict religious compound to taking up residence in their new home in town. She was also a friend of Angie’s.

  “Of course she can come. I’ll see you soon.”

  Cole disconnected the call and turned his attention to his family, who were waiting with bated breath, including Mrs. Gibbs. “Sassy’s in labor.”

  Sophie squirmed in her chair, her face lit with excitement. “Can we go to the clinic with you and watch her babies be born?”

  Cole shook his head. “You have school, little bit. The bus will be here in five minutes.”

  “I’ll take her to school, Dad.” Angie suppressed her excitement more than her little sister did, but Cole could tell it bubbled beneath the surface. “Could we just go to school late this one time?”

  “Ple-e-e-ease. Please, Dad. We never get to m
iss school.”

  Cole had to admit this was true. Both his daughters held perfect attendance records so far this year, and they were both A students. He decided that delivering puppies would be an experience they couldn’t get in the classroom. And besides, this birthing was special. He wished Mattie were in town so that she could watch too.

  “Okay,” he said.

  The word unleashed Sophie from her chair. She sprang up, her dirty dishes in hand, and rushed them over to the sink. “Mrs. Gibbs, do you want to come?” she asked, her dark eyes sparkling.

  “No, I think I’ll stay home,” Mrs. Gibbs said. And then to Cole, she added, “Do you want me to call the schools and let them know the girls will be late?”

  “That would be a big help.” Cole followed Sophie’s lead and cleared his dirty dishes from the table. “Angie, grab a piece of toast or something. You girls, go get your jackets.”

  Within seconds, they exited through the door into the garage. Cole pressed the button, and the double door to the outside world rolled up with a clatter. A cool, fall breeze swept in, carrying some dried yellow and brown leaves with it. Angie and Sophie ran around to the passenger side and loaded up in front, crowding together in the bucket seat. Since the clinic sat only a couple hundred yards down a private lane, Cole allowed their makeshift seating arrangement, exchanging ultimate safety for time efficiency.

  He fired up the engine, backed out, and listened to the ding of the seat belt alarm as he drove to the clinic. Once there, they piled out while he hustled to unlock the front door. He flipped on the lights inside a lobby furnished with chairs for waiting clients and a reception desk, which Angie typically manned after school and on weekends.

  “Angie, would you call Tess and see if she can come in a few minutes early? Tell her what’s up and that we might need her help.” Cole went through into the exam room. “I’ll set up the ultrasound machine.”

  Sophie piped up. “What can I do?”

  “You can help me.” She followed, skipping close on his heels through the swinging door.

  In the back of his mind, Cole continued to be concerned about the situation, although he didn’t want to let that show. If Sassy or her pups were in distress, this could mean a C-section delivery, and he would need all hands on deck. Sassy’s last ultrasound, just a week ago, had revealed a litter of seven babies, all apparently healthy and thriving. Big pups—and that’s what had him worried.

  “They’re here, Dad,” Angie called through the pass-through from the lobby.

  “Okay,” he called back as sounds from the front door filtered through. He murmured to Sophie, “Let’s see what those puppies look like.”

  She rushed to the swinging door to hold it open. “Hi, Hannah and Mrs. Vaughn. Come in.”

  When Hannah led Sassy into the room, Cole assessed the dog’s level of discomfort with a glance. The beautiful black-and-tan shepherd, a bit smaller than Robo, swept into the room frantically, her tongue extended in a rapid pant, so different from her usual laid-back demeanor.

  The fearful expressions on his clients’ faces spoke of their concern, and fatigue had left darkened smudges under their blue eyes. Hannah and her mother resembled each other, both sandy-haired blondes. Though they’d once belonged to a religious group and worn old-fashioned dresses and shoes from the past, they now blended more into Timber Creek society; Hannah wore a T-shirt, jeans, and tennis shoes, while Ruth was now clothed in plain leather loafers and a modest denim dress that she’d most likely sewn herself.

  Cole projected a practiced air of calm, trying to put them at ease because he knew how much they loved this dog. “Good morning. How long have you two been up?”

  “Sassy woke Hannah about midnight,” Ruth said, swiping back a strand of hair that had escaped the bun she wore at her nape.

  Cole and Sassy were familiar with each other, but she might not be herself under this amount of stress. He approached her quietly, his hand extended low and palm-down for her to sniff. She didn’t bother. Instead, she moved restlessly at Hannah’s side, another indicator of her level of distress.

  Cole reached for a muzzle made from red nylon straps. “Hannah, we need to put this on Sassy. She’s in pain and might be more snappish than usual.”

  Hannah had been in the clinic often enough to know the routine. She helped Cole put on the muzzle and adjust the straps. “Do you want her on the table?”

  Cole took his stethoscope out of his pocket. “Let me listen to her heart and lungs first.”

  The rapid rate of Sassy’s heartbeat was another indicator of pain, but the beats were regular and strong and her lungs sounded clear, all a relief to Cole. “Everything sounds good, Hannah. Let’s move her to the table now.”

  Hannah wrapped her arms around the seventy-pound dog’s chest and lifted while Cole picked up her hindquarters. Sassy stood quietly on the stainless-steel tabletop until Hannah encouraged her to lie down.

  “You and Sassy are a couple of pros,” Cole said, as he rolled his ultrasound machine up to the exam table. He snapped on a pair of latex gloves. “She can rest on her side, just like we did last time.”

  After squirting the ultrasound gel on Sassy’s belly, Cole flipped the switch on his machine and nestled the probe between the swollen mammary glands, now filled with milk. Hannah gently lifted Sassy’s hind leg to give him better access. “That’s great, Hannah. Let’s see what we can find.”

  As he rolled the smooth probe over the dog’s skin with one hand, he adjusted the dials on his machine with the other to sharpen the images. Puppies, each in their own amniotic sac, began to take shape on the screen—small forms, their ears flattened against their heads, bodies rounded, little paws tucked up close. The sight never ceased to thrill Cole, especially when he could see the tiny hearts beating.

  Sophie sidled closer to the ultrasound machine’s screen to get a better look. In the hushed stillness of the room, Cole marveled that the images had been enough to silence even her chatter.

  He moved the probe against Sassy’s belly, repositioning it as he went lower, trying to get an accurate count. “Let’s turn her a little more onto her back and hold her there.”

  Sassy cooperated while Hannah gently rocked her backward, lifting her hind leg higher and making soothing sounds. Sassy seemed to relax a bit as Cole circled her belly with the probe, making him think the massaging action might’ve made her feel better. Everyone’s eyes were glued to the ultrasound screen as Cole counted aloud.

  When he neared the dog’s pelvis, he saw two pups, heads down, both vying for space in the birth canal. Typically, he could wait and let them sort themselves out, but these were big pups. Cole hesitated, taking a good look at the situation. He held the probe steady and snapped a picture of the image of the two large pups at the base of the uterus.

  The puppies had been growing since he’d last viewed them, and if he considered their size along with the level of Sassy’s distress, he believed a C-section was the best route to take. He didn’t want to risk losing even a single puppy.

  He looked at Ruth. “I think she’s going to need our help to deliver these puppies. I recommend we do a C-section.”

  Ruth closed her eyes for a brief moment, her face tight with worry. “Is that dangerous for Sassy?”

  He pointed at the still shot he’d taken, which remained on the screen. “At this stage, it’s risky to let her go much further on her own. These two pups look like they could get lodged together in the birth canal, and we could lose one or both of them. I hope to avoid that.”

  Ruth placed her hand on her daughter’s shoulder. “Hannah, I think we should let Dr. Walker do the surgery.”

  Hannah caressed Sassy’s fur, hesitating only a moment. “Me too, Mother.”

  Angie had been standing against the wall behind Hannah, and now she stepped forward to put her arm around her friend’s waist. “It’ll be all right. We’ve done this before. We’ll take good care of Sassy.”

  Angie’s care for her friend brought a lump to C
ole’s throat. He was saved from having to respond by Tess coming in through the back door that opened into the kennel room.

  “Hi, hi,” Tess called out in a singsong as she breezed into the room. Tess always made everything better, her personality as bright as her spiky red hair. “Looks like I almost missed the party. Sorry, but it took me a few minutes to get Tom and the kids organized for the day.”

  “The party’s just getting started,” Cole said, glad for his assistant’s cheerful presence. “We’re going to need to do a C-section on Sassy.”

  Tess nodded and moved over to the cabinet to start laying out supplies.

  “Could Hannah and I stay?” Ruth asked.

  There were many reasons why Cole didn’t allow clients to participate in surgery. “It looks like you both need some rest, so it’s better if you go home. I’ll call you as soon as the surgery is over, and you can come back.”

  Tears brimmed in Hannah’s eyes, but she leaned over Sassy to give her a hug and kiss. Ruth did the same and then placed her arm around Hannah’s shoulders as they headed toward the door. Angie escorted them, murmuring words of reassurance.

  Meanwhile, Tess had been busy setting up, laying out hair clippers, suture, and other paraphernalia on the countertop and placing a sterile surgical pack on a stainless-steel tray that she’d rolled up next to the surgery table. But she turned her attention to Sassy after the Vaughns said their good-byes and enlisted Sophie to help soothe and calm the dog as she lay on the exam table, panting.

  Cole drew up a dosage of atropine, which would decrease secretions during surgery, injected it subcutaneously, and then stroked Sassy’s head while he waited for the drug to work. The responsibility of delivering these puppies safely and keeping this beloved mama dog alive weighed heavily, and while he smoothed her fur, he rehearsed the upcoming procedure in his mind.

  He couldn’t let anyone down during the process.

  THREE

  The alarm’s blare filled Mattie’s head. A red bulb near the observation room’s ceiling began to flash, casting an eerie scarlet strobe inside the dimly lit space. The sensory bombardment created a panicky feeling that threatened to overwhelm her.