Trained to Protect

by Linda O. Johnston

  Then he hung up.

  Meeting tomorrow with the assistant chief was fine with Doug. If nothing else, it would be a genuine, official distraction from the nonsense going on in his mind.

  No, not nonsense. There was a civilian in potential trouble.

  A very lovely and, yes, brave civilian in an apparently inexplicable situation—or at least not explainable for the moment, if she truly was telling him everything.

  And he wanted to trust her. Did trust her, even though he hardly knew her. But should he?

  Think with your brain and nothing else, he ordered himself. For despite all the orders he’d given himself, despite everything his revered uncle Cy had drummed into his head and Maisie’s when they had, at his urging, decided to become cops, he found Elissa Yorian not only a distraction but a very sexy, appealing woman.

  But he was a cop. A damn good one. And so he would help figure out what was going on with her, find a way to protect her, without getting emotionally involved.

  “Yeah, right,” he expressed aloud.

  His tone must have startled Hooper, who sat up once again on the back seat and gave a small growl.

  “You said it,” said Doug with a brisk nod.

  Chapter 6

  “Peace, heel.” It was early Saturday morning. Elissa had just stepped onto the front walkway with her dog leashed beside her and checked to make sure her house’s front door was locked. She had additionally double-checked the other doors and windows. Everything seemed secure.

  She’d taken Peace for a walk twice last night with Glynnis and Socia, and all had seemed calm and peaceful in their neighborhood.

  But that was yesterday. This was today—after a spotty, uneasy night’s sleep.

  At least the weather here in San Luis Obispo was fairly cool for an August day, and not much humidity, either. Peace was doing her normal thing of sniffing the air and ground, and prancing as she walked along, although she sometimes stopped with her nose down as if checking for the right place to relieve herself, which she did relatively quickly.

  She was a good dog in many respects, and that was one of them. Elissa would take her along to the hospital for the first couple of hours she was there so Peace could do her thing as a therapy dog, helping to cheer patients in whatever stage of recovery they happened to be.

  She wondered what Doug Murran would think if he ever watched her actually engaged in therapy work, with real patients and not just those involved in her interview process with Amber. But why should she care?

  A car drove by slowly and Elissa found herself tensing up and staring at it. But it turned out to be another neighbor, apparently leaving early for his job at a nearby bank.

  Drat. Was she ever going to feel normal again?

  Sure, when her mysteries were solved and she knew who’d broken into her house and left that sign up at the Chance K-9 Ranch, especially if the person or persons were arrested and prosecuted successfully.

  Right, as if that was likely to happen.

  Although...well, Doug Murran seemed to be one good, dedicated cop. A K-9 officer to boot. If anyone could solve this situation, she suspected it would be him.

  Or was that just her totally inappropriate attraction to the sexy guy clouding her judgment?

  Peace completed her usual morning routine and Elissa used a special plastic bag to clean up the grass. “Come, Peace.” They returned to their house.

  They were soon back in the kitchen eating their own breakfasts. When they were done, they’d head to the hospital for Peace’s therapy time, then Elissa would bring her home and return to the hospital in her nursing persona.

  She liked what she did, both ways of helping people.

  Well, okay. She sometimes loved her therapy work even more than nursing—and she adored nursing, especially with kids. But the people needing Peace and her for therapy were sometimes stressed, even just by being where they found themselves—like the hospital or even a nearby assisted living facility. Others were damaged physically or psychologically, and sometimes their mental health issues resulted from poor physical health. Fortunately, though, those who were ill tended to be healing, though often slowly.

  Since she’d started doing therapy work, though, she occasionally found that the people they interacted with were in worse condition than she’d initially thought. Some had physical or mental conditions that became more severe, so bad that they weren’t aware enough to even recognize a therapy dog. One she had once worked with had even died.

  But nearly always, introducing the ill or stressed to therapy dogs cheered them and helped their progress.

  “Hey, Peace,” she said as she finished her cereal. “Are you ready to roll?”

  Peace, beside her on the kitchen floor, barked and Elissa took that as a positive response.

  “Good. Let’s go.”

  * * *

  The drive to the Central Hospital of San Luis Obispo didn’t take long. Elissa parked in the area reserved for staff and got Peace out of the back seat. Her wonderful golden sat immediately and nuzzled Elissa, and she bent to give Peace a big hug.

  The lot was full, as usual. She rose and looked up at the long four-story building, first toward the part closest to her. That was where the pediatrics wing was, and it was her goal for now to conduct therapy work with Peace.

  She let Peace do some final outside sniffing on the concrete between cars, then headed inside. She stopped initially on the first floor to clock in at the computer—and was surprised that, as soon as she’d made her entry, a message came up that she was to see senior nurse Mae Shuller right away.

  What was that about? Well, she’d find out. “Come, Peace,” she said, and the two of them passed through the hospital lobby to the administrative offices at the left side of the same floor.

  They then went by some of the main admin areas and the doctors’ section. Mae’s office was the first beyond that, and Elissa soon knocked on the closed door.

  It opened nearly immediately. Mae stood there in her official blue scrubs, similar to what Elissa would be wearing if she’d come here first thing in her nurse capacity.

  “Elissa,” Mae said. “Hi. Come in.” She looked down and scowled at Peace, then preceded both of them through the room.

  Her tone had seemed—well, off, Elissa thought. Unfriendly, maybe. And usually Mae seemed to enjoy gushing over Peace and other therapy dogs.

  Mae was in her early sixties, and she said often that she looked forward to retirement soon—though she intended to continue her nursing in a personal-assistant capacity. She liked people, and she liked to keep busy. But she indicated she’d gotten tired of all the politics and other headaches involved with helping to run a hospital.

  Now, she waved toward the seats across her desk from where she sat. Her hair was an interesting orange-ish shade that Elissa hadn’t ever seen on anyone else, cut short to frame a face that looked older than she was. Possibly the stress of her admin work or nursing had helped to age her.

  And at the moment, the way she was frowning, she looked even older. Elissa felt herself freeze up inside. Something clearly was wrong.

  She took one of the seats Mae had gestured at, telling Peace to sit beside her on the floor. Then Elissa leaned forward, still holding the strap of Peace’s leash as well as wringing her hands slightly. She waited for Mae to say something—and when she did, Elissa wished she had simply run out of the room.

  “So tell me what’s going on, Elissa,” Mae said in a chilly but intense tone.

  What did she mean? She knew about Elissa’s interviewing for the part-time therapy dog instructor position at the Chance K-9 Ranch, since Elissa would only have gone forward with that after getting her full-time employer’s okay.

  And Mae surely didn’t know about the break-in at Elissa’s house, or the strange sign on the ranch fence. Immediately, Elissa thought about Doug and about how w
ell he knew both of these issues. Had he contacted Mae for some reason? Had other cops, either from the San Luis Obispo or the Chance departments?

  But why?

  Elissa had to ask. “What do you want me to tell you about, Mae?” She tried to sound professional and sincere without revealing the angst squeezing everything inside her.

  “Your therapy dog work here, of course,” Mae responded, staring down at Peace. “And everything that’s been going wrong with it.”

  Elissa swallowed hard. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what you’re talking about. Nothing’s gone wrong with it.” In fact, she’d had a feeling that starting out doing therapy work this day would be wonderful for her own psyche, as well, considering everything else she was going through.

  Mae leaned forward, clasping her work-worn hands on top of her wooden desk. “We’ve had several complaints over the last week, Elissa. People have said that Peace, instead of helping to soothe them or their kids during therapy sessions, has been acting aggressive and scary. And that you haven’t discouraged it but have been criticizing the patients and how they react to your dog. One of them even hinted that Peace had bitten a child, though I’m not sure of that.”

  Elissa felt her eyes widen. “That’s simply not true,” she said. “Who told you that?”

  “We can’t divulge names—partly because the people indicated they were afraid you’d come after them for speaking up.”

  “Never! And how can I prove they’re lying if I can’t talk to them?” Elissa felt tears sting her eyes but she refused to let them fall. “You’ve seen us work. Peace is the sweetest dog ever, and she gets our subjects completely relaxed and happy. And if something was wrong and she didn’t seem compatible with a patient—well, you know me enough to recognize that I’d calmly but immediately take her away.” She had already done that once—a good thing since something bad had happened to that child a while afterward. Now, she stared right into Mae’s face with her moist eyes. “You have to believe me.”

  Inside, she felt sick. This had to be related somehow to the two other recent issues in her life—but how?

  She had a fleeting wish that Doug had remained in SLO overnight and accompanied her here to help. But nice man though he was, he was a cop. If there was any alleged proof that she was mishandling therapy sessions, he wouldn’t have been on her side.

  But he could vouch for her in the other situations...right?

  Well, he wasn’t here. And she had just met the guy, knew he was protecting citizens of Chance and helping her, too, somewhat as a result.

  But she mostly had to help herself.

  Should she tell Mae what else had been going on?

  Would that help her—or just appear she was making things up to protect herself?

  At least local cops had showed up at her house yesterday, so there was that possible evidence.

  “Mae, I don’t know who you talked to or what’s really going on, but somehow this week I’ve been hit by...well, several very difficult situations. One was a break-in at my house. The other—I don’t want to get into detail but it involves my interview for the part-time therapy dog trainer job in Chance, which, by the way, was a success. I don’t know that these claims are connected with each other or what you’ve said, but I wouldn’t be surprised. And I’ll never find out unless I’m able to follow up in some way and talk to the people accusing me.”

  Mae stood, and therefore so did Peace at Elissa’s side. That made her rise, too.

  “I’m sorry, Elissa,” Mae said. “I honestly don’t know what’s going on, but I can’t ignore the accusations. Nor can I violate their privacy, even though I understand what you’re saying. Best thing I can do is look into it further. But for now...well, this is serious enough that I was going to terminate your employment and therapy volunteering, but to be fair I’ll just put you on administrative leave until I have more information. But to protect our patients, and our hospital, I can’t do nothing. Again, I’m sorry. I’ll be in touch.”

  Elissa had gasped while her boss was talking and now the tears were flowing freely down her cheeks. “But can’t I keep working and providing therapy services while you check things out? Or at least just work as a nurse?”

  “Sorry, but as I said, I have others to protect.” Her tone had grown cold once more. “Now, I think it would be better if you left. I’ll tell your coworkers and fellow therapy dog handlers that you’ve taken a leave and won’t get into details—unless they hear them from the people involved, of course. And I do hope for your sake that things work out. The sooner the better.” She then shot a telling glance toward her office door.

  What could Elissa do but leave? “Peace, come,” she said, and the two of them left.

  She ignored all the other people in the hallway and entry area, figuring she’d know some of them but not wanting to talk to anyone. She didn’t even bother signing out.

  But neither did she leave immediately. Her intent before had been to provide therapy services in the pediatrics area. Maybe she couldn’t do anything like that officially, but at least she could visit—right?

  No one stopped her as she got Peace into the elevator to the third floor. No one stopped her there, either, as she walked with her dog to the large room where they usually worked and provided warmth and psychological help to scared and unruly kids who needed it.

  One of the other therapy dog handlers, Dianne Doriene, was present with Sparta, her Australian shepherd mix. They were working with one of the long-term juvenile patients, Marcus, who had a kidney issue. Marcus’s mother, DeeDee, was there, too, along with a couple of other parents, mostly ones whose kids were scheduled to come in for some therapy work later.

  Another person present was Adellaide Willmer. Elissa had been surprised to see Adellaide at recent therapy dog sessions along with Popo, the dog she was training. Elissa hadn’t asked but assumed she was taking up therapy dog handling in memory of her son, Tully, who’d had severe psychological issues. He’d been the child she’d removed Peace from working with because of his particularly difficult mental illness. Sadly, he had fallen out of a hospital window and died after a therapy session given by someone else.

  She caught Dianne’s eye, and the other handler frowned. Was she aware of Elissa’s situation?

  The answer was clearly yes.

  Dianne handed Sparta’s leash to one of the parents and sidled over to Elissa. “I’m surprised to see you here,” she said.

  “Me, too,” Elissa said softly. “Do you know what’s going on?”

  “I heard...well, as I said, I’m surprised to see you here.”

  Elissa had to ask. “Do you happen to know the reason I’ve been asked to take a leave of absence?” That was, in fact, what Mae had finally said—even though that leave might wind up being permanent.

  Dianne glanced down at Peace, then looked straight into Elissa’s face. Her blue eyes were shadowy, her expression grim. “It’s partly about Peace. Did you let her hurt, or even scare, some of the kids here?”

  “No!” The word exploded from Elissa’s mouth but fortunately no one was looking their way. “No,” she repeated more softly. “Who did you hear that from?”

  “I can’t talk about it. But—well, if you’ve been asked to take a leave of absence then I suggest you do it.”

  Dianne stalked away and again took charge of Sparta.

  Elissa waited and watched for a few minutes. She waved hello to Adellaide but she and Popo were busy with a child and Elissa didn’t want to interrupt. Although some of the parents shot glances her way, none observed her for long, and no one else came over to talk to her.

  Dianne had been right. Elissa had to leave. Without another word, she led Peace out of the room and toward the elevator.

  Soon, she had fastened Peace into the back seat of her SUV once more and planted herself in the driver’s seat.

  She allowed herself t
o cry, but only for a short while. She had an urge to stay there and fight, to ask more questions and demand answers and conduct her own investigation into who’d broken into her house and more.

  But she recognized that she needed a plan. Plus, the good thing was that she had someplace else to go, at least temporarily until she could get her mind back in gear.

  Today was Saturday, and she wasn’t supposed to return to Chance until Monday. Even so, she forced herself to relax, to look around for a few minutes at people coming and going within the parking lot, then she called Amber as she stared up at the building where she’d been employed, wondering when she’d see it again.

  “Hi, Elissa.” Her new boss answered right away, sounding cheerful.

  “Hi, Amber. Look, I’ve gotten my schedule changed a bit and I hope to come back to Chance tomorrow with Peace. Would that work? I want to stay for a few days to get started.” Maybe more, but she could get into that better once she was there. “And do you know of a good motel where I could stay?”

  “We have some extra houses at the Chance K-9 Ranch for live-in employees,” Amber said. “You can stay here. And it will be great to see you a bit early.”

  “Oh, thank you.” That was one relief, Elissa thought after saying goodbye and hanging up.

  And then? Unsure whether it would be a relief or a mistake, she pushed the buttons on her phone to make another call.

  “Hi, Elissa,” Doug said immediately. “Is everything all right?”

  She almost broke down and cried again at the sound of his voice—and his apparent caring and protectiveness, even if it was just his job. “Yes and no.” She tried to keep a bright note in her tone. “No one’s come after me or broken into my house again.” She figured she’d better assure him of that before he drove back down the mountain to check. “The good thing is that I’ll be back in Chance tomorrow. Is there any possibility that we can get together and talk? I’d like to ask you something.”