He got through the lesson without his thoughts wandering, but when the secretary’s voice came over the intercom system, his heart lurched to his throat. “You have a call, Mr. Edmonds. Can you take it now?”
“Did they say who it was?”
“Um . . . yes, they did . . .” Judy’s hesitation told him it was the call he’d been waiting for. “It’s Mr. Perlson.”
He’d been stupid to ask, and silently blessed the secretary for not referring to the police chief as Chief Perlson in earshot of his students. “I’ll take it in the hallway, Judy. Thanks.”
He panned the room with a stern expression, hooking a thumb in the direction of the door. “I’ll be right out in the hall if anyone needs me. You guys keep the noise level down to a dull roar, okay?”
They murmured their agreement, and Garrett went two doors down to the phone that hung on the wall between the third- and fourth-grade classrooms. The light was blinking, indicating that his call was holding on an outside line. The door to Lucy Brighton’s classroom next door stood open, and before he picked up the phone, he quietly pulled it shut.
He picked up the receiver and turned toward the wall, keeping his voice low. “This is Garrett Edmonds.”
“Mr. Edmonds, Chief Perlson here. I understand you called the dispatcher last night. Something about a dog?”
“Monday night, actually. But, yes. A friend found a dog—a bulldog—at the Grove Street Shelter that night. She thinks the dog belonged to the homeless man you’re looking for . . . Zeke Downing.”
“What did you say your friend’s name was?”
He hadn’t said but didn’t see any harm in giving the police chief Bryn’s name.
“Hennesey. The wife of the fireman?”
“Yes.” He explained about her finding Boss.
“But you say the dog wasn’t wearing a collar?”
“No. But Bryn feels pretty certain it’s the same dog. She volunteered at the shelter. Was there the night Zeke Downing was admitted . . . the night of the fire, too.”
“Yes, I remember talking to her that night. Her and the director . . . what’s her name? Marlowe, I think . . . What makes Ms. Hennesey think the dog belonged to Downing?”
Garrett tried to explain, but his hope dimmed at the skepticism in the chief’s voice. “If there’s no ID on the animal, we don’t really have anything to go on. You say the dog had tags at one point?”
“Yes, but he looks like he’s half starved. I’m guessing the collar just slipped off after he lost weight.” He mentally rolled his eyes. He was starting to sound like Bryn. “We thought it might mean that Downing is still hanging around here.”
He heard what sounded like coffee being slurped on the other end of the line. “I suppose we can talk to some of the neighbors . . . see if any of them saw the dog after the fire—or recently. Can you hang on to him for a few days?”
“Yes, of course.” His hopes were on a roller coaster. At least it sounded like they were going to check into it. It might be a lead.
“I’ll let the fire investigator know you found him. I doubt they’ll need to see him, but at least—”
“Do they have any new leads?”
“If you read the papers, you know what I know.”
Laughter from down the hall punctuated the air. His students were getting rowdy. Garrett gave the chief the number of his cell phone and hurried back to the classroom.
After the students were dismissed, he went down to the office to make some copies. Judy dropped hints that she was dying to know about his phone call from the police, but he didn’t give her the satisfaction. But when Kathy Beckwith, the fourth-grade teacher, asked how his day had been, he confided in her about Bryn finding the dog. He didn’t say where. “She already has a dog, though, so I got elected.” He shrugged.
“She asked you to keep it? That was pretty cheeky.” Kathy’s grimace made Garrett feel the need to defend Bryn.
“She took in one of the shelter client’s dogs. She found it—” He caught himself before he revealed where she’d found Boss. And that they’d had coffee together that night. Kathy and his other female colleagues would read more into it than was there—and they would not approve. Never mind that a few of them had already tried to set him up with a friend or a cousin or a little sister. “To be honest,” he said, “the dog’s kind of growing on me.”
It was true. Boss had become his shadow since that night, and it was nice to have someone to talk to when he came home every evening. Even if it was a four-legged someone.
She opened her mouth to
remind him, but the thought
of time with Garrett made
her swallow her protest.
13
Tuesday, December 4
The phone was ringing when Bryn unlocked the door. She eased the bag of groceries onto the kitchen table and let her purse slide off her shoulder to the floor. Sparky danced around her, yipping, as she picked up the phone.
“Bryn? It’s Garrett.”
“Sparky, hush!” She took a deep breath and steeled herself. “Hi, Garrett.” She hadn’t heard from him since the night she’d taken Boss to his house. She’d been tempted to call him to see how things were going, but every time she thought about picking up the phone, she was afraid it would only make it easier for him to ask her to come and take Boss off his hands.
With each day that went by, she’d breathed a little easier, thinking he must have decided to keep Boss. But she worried that the police didn’t seem to think the dog’s appearance at the shelter site had any significance. Every news story she’d read or heard still called the inspectors’ conclusions “inconclusive.”
She forced her attention back to the phone. “What’s up? Is everything going okay with Boss?”
“He’s doing just fine. Getting a little meat back on his bones.”
“Oh, good. I’m glad.”
“That’s why I called, actually.”
Here it came. He was going to ask her to come and get Boss.
“I wondered if you’d want to take the dogs for a walk. I got away early today, and it’s so nice out this afternoon, I just thought . . .”
She released a breath. Maybe Boss was growing on him. But considering his invitation, she wondered if he remembered why she’d brought Boss to his house in the first place. She opened her mouth to remind him, but the thought of time with Garrett made her swallow her protest. The dogs might kill each other, but it would be worth it for a chance to see Garrett again. “I’d like that. Do you just want to meet at the riverwalk? At that curve where you rescued me that day?”
He laughed. “Sure. Ten minutes?”
“I’ll be there.”
“Great. But I’ll have my hands full. You’re on your own with the leash this time.”
“I think I’ve got a handle on it.” Unless Sparky remembers Boss.
She threw up a prayer and went to put the groceries away and collect Sparky’s leash.
She almost lost her nerve on the way to the riverwalk. Garrett hadn’t sounded upset on the phone, but what if he was still angry with her for bringing Boss to his place? He had every right to be. Maybe he’d invited her so he could break the news that he wasn’t willing to keep Boss.
But when she rounded the corner to the spot where Sparky had run away with her, there was Garrett, and he wore a smile that said he remembered that day, too.
Boss lifted his head and sniffed the air, and Bryn tightened her grip on Sparky’s leash, but though the Lab’s ears perked up at the sight of the bulldog, he stayed at her side, tail wagging. “Good boy.”
Bryn couldn’t believe the change in Boss in only a week. She handed Garrett Sparky’s leash and went to her knees to love up on the pup. “He looks so much better!” Boss had filled out quite a bit. His eyes had lost the dull sheen they’d held that night she’d rescued him, and his coat was shiny and smooth, as if he’d gotten a good brushing every day since his bath at Garrett’s.
“He’s eating me out
of house and home, but he does look better, doesn’t he?”
“He really does.” She stood, brushing the dog hair off her hands. “Thanks again for taking him, Garrett. I hope he hasn’t been too much trouble.”
A glint came to his eye. “No trouble . . . I’m taking out a second mortgage to pay the dog food bill, but otherwise, we’re good.”
“Sorry.” She shot him a sheepish smile.
He looked down at the dogs, who were cautiously sniffing each other. “I thought you said these two had issues.”
She shrugged. “They nearly killed each other the first time they met.”
“Maybe this isn’t Downing’s dog after all.”
She shook her head and opened her mouth to dispute him. For some reason, she felt certain this was Boss. But if it made Garrett feel better to think otherwise, she wasn’t going to argue. “Do I dare ask if you’re considering keeping him?”
“For good, you mean?”
She nodded.
“Well, the police asked me to hang on to him at least until they complete their investigation. But I’ve thought about what happens after. He is kind of growing on me.”
She smiled at that, then remembered what he’d said about the police. “They called you back? What did they say?”
He told her about his conversation with the police chief. “It took the guy almost three days to get back to me. I don’t think he’s too interested. But he did say he’d let the fire investigator know we found him.” Garrett bent to run a hand down Boss’s brindled coat. His demeanor was almost possessive, as if he meant to reassure Boss he wouldn’t let anyone hurt him. For some odd reason, the simple act endeared Garrett to Bryn.
He straightened and untangled Boss’s leash. “You ready?”
She nodded and they set out on a leisurely stroll, letting the dogs set the pace. By the time they’d gone half a mile, Sparky and Boss seemed to be enjoying each other’s company—as much as Bryn had to admit she enjoyed Garrett’s.
“So, how’s the job hunt going?” Garrett asked.
She shrugged. “I’ve had a couple of promising interviews, but to be honest, I’m hoping the library will just give me more hours so I don’t have to find something else.”
“Is that a possibility?”
“It is, but they don’t seem to be in any hurry to make a decision. In the meantime the bills are piling up, and I’m well on my way to maxing out our—” She caught herself. “My credit cards. But the thought of starting a new job—starting all over somewhere new—about does me in.”
“I understand. Well, I’ll pray the library makes you an offer soon. What do you do there? Just a librarian?” He held up a hand. “Wait . . . that came out wrong. I didn’t mean just a librarian. I meant—”
She laughed. “It’s okay. I do a little of everything. Shelve books, repair books, send out fine notices, whatever needs doing.”
“Uh-oh.” He winced. “I suppose that means you know I’m in hock to the library to the tune of $7.54.”
“You’d better take care of that before Myrna puts out a warrant for you.” She laughed, but it wasn’t exactly a joke. Myrna, in an effort to make a point, had actually done just that with a patron last year. Unfortunately, the man was a professor at one of the private colleges in Springfield and had been up in arms about the action, calling it defamation of character. The Hanover Falls Courier had published dozens of letters to the editor on both sides of the issue. Ultimately the charge was dropped when the man produced the overdue book and paid a fine, though Myrna still took every opportunity to inform patrons that she was merely following the law.
“Oh, yeah . . . I heard about that. Probably wouldn’t be a good example for my students, huh?”
She gave an exaggerated shake of her head. “Not at all.”
“Okay. Note to self: take care of library fine.”
“You teach sixth grade, right?”
“Fifth.”
“Oh. I bet they love you.”
He eyed her as if he wasn’t sure she was serious.
“No, I mean it,” she said. “I remember fifth grade. I guarantee all the little girls have crushes on you and all the little boys want to grow up and be you.”
“Oh, brother.” He rolled his eyes. “I sure hope not. And no, actually, all the little boys want to grow up and be firefighters like my wife.”
Bryn smiled and tested the water. “She’s a hero to them.”
“Yeah, yeah . . . tell me about it.”
His answer surprised her. It must have shown in her face.
“Listen,” he said, “it wasn’t exactly easy being a middle-school teacher married to a firefighter wife. I got razzed about that plenty.”
“By your kids? Your students, I mean?”
“Them, my family, the guys I play basketball with . . . and pretty much the rest of the civilized world. All in good fun, of course.” He grinned.
“Oh, come on . . . really? But I’m sure you were man enough to take it.” She punched him lightly on the arm, the way she would have Adam when they were bantering. He felt solid and warm and real. A rush of affection overwhelmed her—for Adam, but for Garrett, too. Maybe more for Garrett.
He didn’t seem to notice. “I came to terms with Molly being the hero . . . but it took a while.” The way he shrugged told her he was serious. “And now it’s my turn to be her hero.”
She wasn’t sure what he meant by that. “I’m sure you were her hero, Garrett.”
“Depends on how you define hero, I guess.” He looked out over the river and changed the subject. “You want to walk again tomorrow?”
There was nothing she wanted more.
“Weather’s supposed to be nice again.” His expression looked like Sparky’s when he was hankering to go for a walk. Like he thought he had to convince her.
But she didn’t have to think twice. “I’d like that. Do you want to just meet here again?”
He nodded. “Same time, same place.”
They started to part ways, but she felt compelled to say what she’d been about to say when he changed the subject. “You know, Garrett, being a hero isn’t always about saving lives and leaping tall buildings in a single bound.”
He studied her, then kicked at a stone on the sidewalk. “Maybe. But now I have a chance to make a difference. To somehow make sure justice is done. And I’m not giving up until I know every stone has been turned to find whoever started that fire. I owe that much to Molly.”
A weight settled in the pit of her stomach, and she couldn’t quite put her finger on the reason.
Or maybe she could.
“I wanted to talk to you
about something.”
Something in his voice
made Bryn straighten
and pay attention.
14
Saturday, January 5
Bryn spotted the sign for North Broadway and turned onto the narrow street. She gripped the steering wheel and took a couple of deep breaths. She hadn’t been to Springfield since the last time she and Adam had come in to see the new James Bond film.
She’d somehow gotten it in her head that once she got through Christmas, things would get better. But she’d taken Sparky and gone out to her dad’s on Christmas Eve, and if anything it seemed like the memories of Adam had grown stronger. She spent the night there, and Dad had gone out of his way to make Christmas Day festive, but she’d spent most of the day trying to hold back the tears, or when she couldn’t, trying to keep Dad from seeing her grief.
She’d suspected he was doing the same, and it startled her to realize that even after three years, Mom’s absence still left a huge hole in Dad’s life. Hers, too. Would she still be aching for Adam three years from now? Longing for what they’d had together? The thought was unbearable. She’d ended up going home before dark on Christmas Day. She’d crawled under the covers, wishing she was a bear and could sleep until spring.
But every morning she woke up, and the reality hit her all over again: Ada
m was gone. Forever. And her life would never be the same.
Peering out the side windows, she searched for a number on one of the run-down older homes and abandoned office buildings. She’d never been in this part of town, even with Adam. It wasn’t a part of the city the bureau of tourism would have steered visitors to, and she was thankful it was daylight and that she had Sparky with her.
She glanced over her shoulder to where the dog was sprawled on the backseat. He wore a blue bandanna around his neck, compliments of the groomer Bryn had taken him to yesterday. He watched her, panting, as if anticipating a reunion with Charlie. Would Sparky recognize his old master?
Bryn was eager to see Charlie again, and for him to have a chance to see Sparky again, but she worried a little that he might expect to keep the dog. Of course, she’d inherited Sparky in the first place because this shelter didn’t allow its residents to keep pets. But she’d promised Charlie that she’d bring Sparky for a visit, and she’d waited longer than intended. She just hoped seeing Sparky didn’t somehow set Charlie back—make his situation worse instead of better.
She’d called ahead and talked to the director, who informed her that Charlie would be at the shelter any time of day. They’d given Charlie a part-time paid position at the shelter, which not only covered the small fee they charged for residency, but gave him a place to be during the daylight hours when the shelter was officially closed. Good for Charlie. Except this probably meant he wouldn’t be coming back to Hanover Falls, even if Susan got a new shelter up and running in the near future.
She didn’t know if they’d told Charlie about her call, or if he would be surprised to see her, but the shelter manager had welcomed her to come and bring Sparky, as long as the dog stayed outside the building.
The rambling whitewashed building from the photo on the Internet appeared on her left, and she parked at the curb and turned off the car. She reached over the seat and scratched Sparky’s ears, then adjusted his bandanna. “You stay here, boy. I’ll bring Charlie out to see you.”
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