Thunder's Shadow (In the Shadow of the Cedar Book 3)

by Sheila Hollinghead

  Chapter 21—Killer

  I drove to work the next morning, thinking about Laurie’s words. William had such a tender heart. If Sylvia had come to him, telling him she was pregnant and her parents had kicked her out, maybe he had felt sorry enough to marry her. And no one could deny Sylvia’s beauty, although it was only skin-deep. Her beauty alone would have been enough to persuade most guys.

  I arrived at the office, and Velma greeted me with a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. In some ways, she reminded me of Sylvia, although I hoped I was wrong. Why had she chosen to work at a vet’s office when, from what I had seen so far, she did not seem overly fond of animals?

  With less nausea this morning, I was able to give Velma a proper greeting. Having confided in Laurie and Marla had also lifted a big burden from my shoulders. I stopped at the counter, deciding to get to know Velma better. Maybe I was misjudging her.

  “What does Dr. Driscoll have planned for today?”

  She waved a hand in the air, her red nails sparkling. “He doesn’t confide much in me. I never know what my uncle is going to do.”

  That explained it — she worked for her uncle. My eyebrows rose. “He doesn’t have a schedule?”

  She shook her head and then looked confused. “Maybe. I’m not sure...”

  His office was so unorganized, it was a wonder he had any clients at all. If Michael and I started a business, we’d run it more efficiently — at least I hoped so.

  “I’ll just go in his office and ask him what I need to do.”

  She bent her head over a glossy magazine and did not look up again but mumbled a bye.

  I knocked on the door to Dr. Driscoll’s office. He didn’t answer, but I cracked the door anyway. He was in much the same position I had seen him in before, shuffling through papers with his cigar hanging out of the side of his mouth.

  He gave one glance in my direction and looked back down, waving me toward the cow-hide chair. I took the seat and waited.

  He finally rolled back in his chair, the wheels squeaking over the floor. He still didn’t speak but eyed me. I became uncomfortable under his scrutiny.

  He finally spoke. “Know anything about bookkeeping?”

  “Sir?”

  “Bookkeeping... I need some help getting organized. Velma is supposed to keep up with all this, but she has made a mess of things.”

  I looked at his overflowing desk, covered not only with loose papers and catalogues, but also a mixture of pills and ointments and a few instruments. Velma wasn’t the only one who had made a mess of things.

  I had never done any bookkeeping... well, a little at the general store in Plainsville. I hesitated before I answered. “I could try, sir. However, I really think it would be best to organize the office, and then I might be able to get the paperwork in order.”

  “Okay. We won’t have time today. I’ve got appointments coming in.”

  “We’re not going out to the farms?”

  “Not today. I’ve been putting off my small animals — except the ones that were emergencies. I have a few appointments here at the office and then a few house calls I need to make. Can you handle the ones coming in? I can make the house calls, and we should finish up early. That’ll give us a chance to organize things.”

  I nodded my head, although my heart pounded in my chest, nervous at doing this on my own. He wouldn’t be here to help me see the first patients. Surely, he wouldn’t be asking me if it was that difficult, would he?

  He was already up, gathering some things to put in his bag. For such a large man, he moved quickly. “The lab coats are hanging in the back — you might find one to fit. You’ll look more professional.” He glanced at his watch. “I’ll be back as soon as I can get back.”

  “Yes, sir.” I walked with him to the door, expecting him to give me some words of advice or tell me what the appointments would entail. But he slipped out the door without another word.

  After he had left, I slipped into a lab coat and walked over to Velma. “Dr. Driscoll is leaving me here to take the appointments. Do you know who’s coming in?”

  Her eyes lifted to meet mine. She twirled a curl of her strawberry blonde hair. “What?”

  “Who’s coming in today, Thursday?”

  “I told you my uncle doesn’t tell me anything.”

  I frowned in puzzlement. What exactly did Velma do here? Surely she handled the appointments. “Where does he keep the schedule?” I asked, trying hard to keep my voice polite.

  “In his office.” Her eyes dropped back to the magazine.

  “All right.” I walked back in his office and looked down at the papers on his desk, afraid to touch them. He might have them in a special order, and I would never get them back the way they were now. That might be a good thing. I didn’t see a schedule in sight.

  I heard the outside door open and loud growls echoing in the outer office. I went to investigate.

  A woman, looking as if she weighed ninety pounds soaking wet, was trying vainly to control a German shepherd on a leash. He lunged toward me, teeth bared.

  Velma, her face showing boredom, looked over the counter at me. “Your first appointment.”

  I grimaced. The woman called the dog to heel. He continued straining against the leash. I deepened my voice and said one word. “Sit!”

  Amazingly, the dog sat. The poor woman looked around, and I realized she, too, was trying to find a chair to sit on. My lips twitched.

  I held my hand out to her. “I’m Sarah Hutchinson, Dr. Driscoll’s assistant.”

  She barely touched her gloved hand to mine. “Mrs. Jones. Nice to meet you.” She straightened the hat on her thinning gray hair.

  A low growl emanated from deep in the dog’s chest.

  “Quiet!” I commanded. The dog lay down at the lady’s feet.

  Her admiring eyes went from the dog to me. “My! I can never get him to obey.”

  I smiled at her. “You have to be firm.”

  “Oh, I try.” Her hands trembled as she removed her white gloves and smoothed down her dress.

  “May I take him into the examining room?”

  “Oh, yes.” Relief was evident in her voice. She handed me the leash. “He’s my husband’s dog. My husband wanted me to bring him in. He seems peakish, and my husband thinks he probably needs worming.”

  If the lunging, snarling dog was peakish, I would hate to meet him in good health.

  “What’s the dog’s name?”

  Her cheeks flushed red. “Killer.”

  “Killer?” The dog’s ears perked up. I didn’t want to think how the man had been training this dog. I couldn’t worry about that now. “Up, Killer.” He sprang to his feet and heeled as I led him to the examining room, Mrs. Jones following us.

  He was too big for me to pick up and put on the table. I wasn’t sure I would want to attempt it by myself, even if he had been a smaller. I commanded him to sit and stay and handed the leash to Mrs. Jones.

  “I’ll need to get a sample and check for worms,” I said. I had to rummage through a couple of cabinets before I found what I needed.

  I approached the dog and knelt beside him. “That’s a good boy,” I said soothingly as I raised his tail.

  He curved his head toward my hand, his teeth exposed, and another deep growl began.

  “Mrs. Jones, can you please hold his head?” I asked, moving away.

  She nodded, but as I again approached, the dog broke free from her grasp and snapped at me.

  I put my palm up and spoke sharply. “No!”

  The whites of his eyes showed. I demonstrated to her how to hold his head firmly, and this time I was able to get the sample. I left the dog and woman to check the sample for worms. I placed the slide on the microscope and brought it into focus. Hookworms.

  I sighed, knowing I would need help with Killer. “One moment, Mrs. Jones.” I stepped out the door. “Velma, I need assistance please.”

  Her brows drew together in confusion before she rose from her
chair and came to me.

  I motioned her into the examining room, and Killer growled as she entered. “Please help Mrs. Jones hold the dog.”

  Her eyes widened in alarm. “Dr. Driscoll never asks me to help.”

  I gritted my teeth. I wanted to say that I wasn’t Dr. Driscoll, but knew I had to be careful with my words and attitude. This was his niece, after all.

  “Normally, I wouldn’t ask you to help, but this is a special case. It will only be for a second.”

  Velma nodded but her face registered fear. The dog had continued to growl during our conversation. I again spoke firmly to him. “Killer, lie down.”

  “Now, if you two ladies will hold him like this...” I demonstrated, making sure their hands were firmly in place, before I pried open his mouth to administer the medication.

  Afterward, the ladies released Killer, and I gave him generous praise. Velma hurried from the room, back safely behind the counter. We followed her and stopped in front of the counter.

  “Mrs. Jones, you can pay Miss Green.”

  Velma glanced up at us. “No, Dr. Driscoll handles that.”

  I gritted my teeth and took a steadying breath. “Where is the receipt book?”

  “In his office.”

  At that moment, the outer door opened, and a man and a little girl, barely out of the toddler stage and holding a cat, entered. Without thinking, I grabbed the leash from Mrs. Jones, pulling the snarling dog into the examining room. The cat manically clawed the little girl. She began wailing, and the man, luckily, grabbed the cat before it made a getaway out of the still open door.

  I ushered Mrs. Jones inside the room with the dog and closed the door behind her, putting my back to the door.

  The man was having difficulty holding the cat and comforting his daughter. I took the cat from him and led them into the doctor’s office. I rooted around for something to house the cat and found a rusted cage. His daughter had quieted, and the man helped me get the cat, headfirst, into the cage.

  After the cat was secured, I found the methiolate and bandages, made my apologies, and asked the man to stay put. I hurried back to the examining room. Mrs. Jones was pale and shaking, so I once again took the leash and led the dog out to her car. Killer became cooperative, jumping in with no prompting from me.

  Mrs. Jones got behind the wheel and rolled down her window.

  I leaned in. “We’ll send you a bill.”

  “Thank you, Mrs. Hutchinson. You don’t know how much I was dreading this trip. It went much smoother than I expected.” She gave me a big smile, rolled up her window, and backed out.

  My mouth gaped open. Much smoother? Was she joking? I shook my head, and then I began to laugh. I went back in to tend to the cat, already exhausted, and dreading what the rest of the day might bring.

  Chapter 22—Cedar Spring

  Dog and cat hairs covered my lab coat by the time Dr. Driscoll got back from making his rounds.

  He took one look at me and an unexpected sympathy filled his blood-shot eyes. “You have a rough morning?”

  I wiped my forehead with the back of my hand. “You could say that.”

  “Reckon the organizing can wait. Go on home. You look like you’re about to fall down.”

  “I’m fine,” I said.

  He shook his head at me. “Go on, Missy. The bookwork can wait.”

  I hesitated. He was not going to keep me if I kept being too weak to work. “Dr. Driscoll, I assure you I’m fine. I can work as long as you need me to.”

  “Well, I’m closing up shop and going home. If you want to stay here, suit yourself.”

  “Closing up?”

  “Yes.” He turned toward the counter. “Velma, you can go on home now.”

  Velma jumped from her seat. “Great! I’m ready.”

  I glanced from one to the other. “All right. If you’re sure, Dr. Driscoll.” I took off the lab coat and tucked it under my arm. “I’ll take this home and wash it.”

  “No, just toss it in there. Velma takes them to the cleaners on Thursdays. She can drop it off on her way home.”

  I cast a glance at Velma, glad to have discovered one job she handled.

  I gathered my things and followed them out the door. Velma locked the door behind us.

  “Dr. Driscoll...”

  He turned, impatience in his eyes.

  “Sir, I wondered if my cousin can come with me tomorrow, to help organize things.”

  “Fine. As long as I don’t have to pay.”

  I waved a hand. “No, that won’t be necessary.” I’d pay her from my own pocket, if need be.

  Dr. Driscoll nodded and moved away. Velma gave me a smile and a wave as she passed by.

  I climbed in the truck, but instead of heading directly home, I pulled to a stop near Cedar Spring. The pathway looked the same as it had the first time I had discovered this spot. When I broke into the clearing, Laurie, down near where the spring traveled into the wood, came into view. I was used to her skipping school by now and knew my words of admonishment would do no good.

  She had a fishing pole in hand. Someone, maybe Uncle Colt, had built a small pier there. Laurie’s red and white cork bobbed in the gentle movement of the water. She did not even raise her head to glance at me as I walked toward her.

  Leaning lazily on one elbow, she held the cane pole loosely in the other hand. Her overall-clad legs stretched out in front of her, her feet bare. Highlights sparkled in her braided hair.

  I stood quietly behind her on the wooden pier, its planks already grayed by the sun. I hadn’t been here for well over a year before I had moved home. The other day, I had been too sick to notice the pier. A yellow fly buzzed around my head, and I swatted at it. The buzzing increased, and I gave up and let my hands come to rest. The fly landed on my arm, and I slapped it, killing it. The blasted thing had bitten me and already a small bump rose on my skin, a trickle of blood staining the area. It was early for yellow flies to be out. This fly seemed to be the only one around, but I knew others wouldn’t be far behind.

  I dropped down beside Laurie, crossing my legs and pulling them toward me, Indian style. I unbraided my hair and fluffed it out.

  She finally cast a glance in my direction. “Hello,” she said, her voice slightly slurred, as if she had just awakened.

  “Any luck?” I asked.

  “Ain’t had a bite all morning. But I’m enjoying the peace and quiet.”

  I nodded my head. “I’ve got a proposition for you... if you don’t mind missing another day of school.”

  She sat up at that and her eyes narrowed suspiciously. “What?”

  “Dr. Driscoll’s entire practice needs organizing. I wondered if you could help tomorrow.”

  Her body relaxed and her gaze returned to the bobbing cork. “Sure. Ain’t got nothing else planned.”

  I sighed. Laurie obviously wasn’t interested in school. Did she have any long-term plans? How long would Uncle Colt and Aunt Jenny let her loaf around home? They already had one loafer in Sylvia. Well, Laurie didn’t loaf — she helped out with household chores as well as working in the fields, although I’d never seen her work with much enthusiasm. Uncle Colt had expanded his farming to take in our farm’s acreage. As his farming operations expanded — this year he planned to plant more than ever, to help with the war effort — he would need to hire a couple of men to help him.

  I stood and stretched in the warm sun. “All right. I’m going home to get cleaned up and eat some dinner. And I might visit Marla after I rest.”

  “Mind if I go with you?”

  “Not at all. I’ll stop by and pick you up, around three?”

  “Sounds good.” Laurie pulled her line in and wound it around the cane pole. “Don’t forget!”

  I waved a goodbye and walked back to the truck. Hopefully, with Laurie and Marla’s help, we could figure out a solution to my problem with Sylvia.

  I overslept, and hurriedly made cookies, planning to take them by to Mr. Paul and Mr. Aaron, after my
visit with Marla. I was late in picking up Laurie, but she didn’t seem to mind. It was close to four before we arrived at Mr. Drake’s place. The sun bore down, not a cloud in the afternoon sky, but the wide, covered porch offered plenty of shade.

  Marla had brought out a pitcher of iced tea and some hand fans.

  She grabbed a seat on the swing and Laurie and I settled in the rockers. A wooden table, situated between the rockers, held the pitcher and our glasses.

  Mr. Drake had built his large, two-story house on top of a small rise. Pastures lay on each side, filled with grazing cows. His fields, the ones where he grew corn, cotton, and peanuts, were on the backside, beyond the large barn.

  It was an idyllic location, and I let my eyes roam around, taking in the view, while sipping the iced tea.

  I picked up a hand fan and began fanning. “It’s really warmed up today.”

  “How are you doing?” she asked, her eyes solicitous.

  “Fine. I actually feel better.” I leaned closer to her, not wanting Mr. Drake to overhear, in case he was nearby. “Where’s your father-in-law?”

  “One of the men took him to the doctor today. He’s not doing well.”

  Laurie stopped her vigorous rocking. “I heard the doc only gave him a month to live.”

  Marla nodded her head. “That’s what we were told. Sometimes doctors are wrong, especially with those like Mr. Drake. He’s such a strong-willed man.”

  I glanced at her through my lashes. “What are your plans, Marla? I mean if anything happens...”

  For a moment, Marla lost her composure and then her peaceful demeanor returned. “I plan to stay here. It’s a lovely place. And do you remember Grace?”

  “Of course.” I turned to Laurie. “Grace is Marla’s sister,” I explained.

  “She’s been giving my parents fits, begging to come visit me. Actually, she wants to move here, but I’m not sure if it’s a good idea, especially not now, as sick as Mr. Drake is. However, Grace would be good company.”

  “What does Daniel say?”

  “He’s fine with it.” Her cheeks grew pink. “Dan is so good to me. He just wants me to be happy.”