Kinney’s stomach took a perilous dip. “Liam?” she called, going back in. “Liam? It’s Kinney. Remember me? Whiskey’s new owner?”
“Kinney!” The voice was faint and far away. “We fell into the hole. Help!”
“Coming, buddy! Hang tight!”
There was still plenty of light to watch her step as she crossed the boards workers had set up as a walkway. She looked around for tools, and found a long pole with a hook on the end. That could help, but rope would be better. There was a mid-sized bin made of wood with a lock on it that looked promising. Swinging the pole hard, she bashed through one of the slats. Then it was easy enough to pry open. Inside she found an assortment of tools, a flashlight, and to her relief, a long stretch of yellow nylon rope.
“Kinney!” Liam called. “Where are you?”
“Coming. Are you hurt?”
“No. But Heidi’s limping.”
She shone the light into the basement excavation. Liam’s pale face looked up at her while the big wolfhound crouched by his side. “Hang on,” she said. “We’ll bring Heidi up first.”
She threaded the rope through a hole in the rim of a large metal dumpster and tied it off securely. Then she tossed the rope down to Liam. “Do you think you can wrap this around Heidi and tie her up tight? I can tell you how to make the knots, okay?”
Liam followed her instructions to a tee. Then she got up and found some long, heavy boards and dragged them over to the side of the new basement.
“Lead the dog over to the other side,” she said, shining the light down. “Be really careful and cover your head. I’m going to make a ramp.”
She lowered the first board and maneuvered it into position. The second proved more unwieldy. The third seemed to come alive under her hands and refused to comply. She was running out of strength. There was no way the dog would walk up such a narrow ramp.
Suddenly big hands joined hers on the board. “I got this.”
She looked up at James gratefully. “Where are the dogs?”
“In the car. Myrtle came down the road screaming like a banshee and it wasn’t fair to either dog. So I got a few guys to restrain her and ran them back to the car.”
Together, they got the ramp into position. Then James skipped down without a moment’s hesitation and literally pushed the wolfhound up from behind. Liam was roped off, but he climbed the ramp like a monkey before Kinney could even get the dog untied. He threw his arms around her and she fell over on her back, with bits of concrete jabbing between her shoulder blades.
Sitting up, she hugged him. “You’re amazingly brave. But you gotta be more careful, buddy. That’s what dog cops are for.”
“I wanna be a dog cop just like you when I grow up.”
She laughed. “That’s not really my job anymore, but it’s always good to look out for animals.”
“How’s Whiskey?” Liam asked. His eyes shone with tears and Kinney hugged him again. “He’s doing great. I’m so lucky you let me have him that day.”
“Mom said it was for the best,” Liam said, swallowing hard. “Aunt Jacinda, too. But I hope my dad will let me have a dog one day.”
“I bet he will,” she said, her heart easing at his words. “Especially after he hears what a hero you were tonight.”
James cleared his throat to remind them to get moving. He led the way out, with the dog behind him and Kinney holding Liam’s hand. The sirens were just coming up the street, but their screaming couldn’t equal Myrtle McCabe’s. Liam’s mom was busting a lung herself and both women fell to their knees to hug their lost kids.
Myrtle was the first to rise and she opened her arms to Kinney. Stepping back, Kinney held up her hands. “Don’t. You can thank us by being kinder to animals in the future.” She lowered her voice. “Because of your abuse, however, I have the best dog in the world. So we’ll leave it at that.”
Myrtle shrank back and somehow her mauve hair seemed to dim. She skulked off up the street with her limping wolfhound.
Others gathered to congratulate them but James took Kinney’s hand and pulled her away. “We have our own dogs to worry about,” he said. “Good night, everyone.”
“Never a dull moment, is there?” she asked, before pulling a splinter out of her hand with her teeth.
“People were filming that,” James said as they walked hand in hand back to the car.
“It’s inevitable these days. You have to run away to a hill in Wolff County to get a moment’s privacy.”
“If that’s a hint, I’m taking it,” he said, laughing as he opened the car door. “Finally, I’ve got a rescue war story. Do you think Cori will let me into the Mafia?”
Chapter 22
Two hours after sunset the next evening, Kinney held the night vision goggles to her eyes with her right hand and gripped James’ hand with her left. “I wish I could be down there,” she said. “This feels like cheating. We Mafia take care of our own problems.”
“I know,” he said. “But that was when the problems were smaller and localized. Now the mayor’s secrets are spreading like a fungus even beyond county lines. Sometimes you need to make the efficient decision.”
“The others are going to be mad,” she said. “Cori, especially.”
“They’ll only be mad they didn’t get to see it happen,” he said. “Once it’s all over they’ll thank you.”
“Thank me? This is all because of you. I could never have pulled it off.”
James had hired a security firm from New York to simultaneously raid all six of the potential kennel sites Kinney had been able to identify with her hacking. They didn’t know which ones were in use, so it made sense to hit them all. The strategy meant that by the time City officers got their act together it would all be over.
Kinney and James sat on the hill above the site in Wolff County, because it seemed the most likely to be in use. Choosing a site outside Dorset Hills County lines gave more political wiggle room.
It was like watching a SWAT team on TV. People in black clothing and masks jumped out of vans and circled the building as if choreographed. There was a loud pop and glass tinkling, and most of the security people disappeared, except for three on watch.
The next few minutes stretched out and James whispered, “Breathe.”
“You don’t have to whisper,” she said. “We’re alone.”
They both laughed a bit and then held their breath again.
“Oh my god!” Kinney said. A man came out of the building holding a squirming dog under each arm. Others did the same, and they made a human chain to pass all the pups into one of the vans. Even from their vantage point above, they could hear barking and whining.
“Hurry, hurry,” Kinney whispered.
It was already over. Everyone jumped back into the vans and drove off. They kept their lights off but they didn’t rush. It ended up looking like a state funeral.
James turned the SUV around, and when the vans passed, the last one flashed its lights. He pulled in behind it, and followed.
Kinney was already texting the others. “911. Runaway Farm. Stat.”
Long before they reached the farm, two of the three vans veered off. Only the one holding the puppies continued on. James moved ahead and led it down under the tall arch and down the winding driveway. Glancing in his rearview mirror, he said, “There’s another van. One of the other sites must have been active.”
Cori, Bridget, Duff, Maisie and Nika were already at the farm with Hannah when they arrived, and Evie and Remi pulled up soon after. Ari careened down the drive like the devil was after her. Flynn, Mim and Sasha came last.
James guided the vans to back up to the barn and once again a human chain unloaded the dogs and puppies, and set them in the two empty pens in the barn. There were 26 in all, and they appeared to be purebreds all under a year old. Bridget leaned into the pen and picked up the little bearded collie and cuddled it. Her blingy collar was gone now.
Outside, James spoke to the men in black and then waved the v
ans off.
Cori was inside one of the pens, inspecting each dog in turn. “They seem to be fine,” she said. “We need to divide them up and get them to foster families tonight—as far out of Dog Town as possible.”
She worked with Bridget to make the calls, and one by one, people drove off with their canine cargo. When nearly everyone had gone, Cori and Bridget turned to Kinney. “Was it only the two sites?”
Kinney nodded. “The rest were empty or incomplete. That doesn’t mean there aren’t others.”
Cori stared from Kinney to James and back. Kinney waited for an explosion that didn’t come. “As much as I hate to admit it, we couldn’t have pulled that off,” she said, at last. “I know our limits.”
“She’s thanking you,” Kinney told James. “You don’t know how shocking that is.”
Cori flipped a couple of orange flashes at Kinney and let out a long breath. “Whew. That feels better. Being nice… it costs me.”
Kinney laughed and went to grab two dog carriers from the barn. “I’ll deliver these little guys,” she said.
Taking the carriers from her, Cori shook her head. “You two are off duty. You need to get your beauty rest before the exam tomorrow.” Loading the pups in the back seat of her truck, she called back, “Alone, you hear? No canoodling before a big competition.”
Bridget shrugged, and got into the van with two other pups.
Kinney watched them go, holding hands with James. “That was a huge win,” she said. “But tomorrow’s loss would feel even bigger.”
“We won’t lose,” he said, walking her to the Prius. Looking up at the vast sky dotted with stars, he added, “We’re the good guys. Someone’s gotta be looking out for us.”
Red velvet rope cordoned off a big ring in Bellington Square, in front of the bronze German shepherd. There were five stations set up inside the circle, as well as a low platform for the final ruling. The dogs from the Miracle Makeover Program needed to move through the stations one by one. Each offered a specific challenge designed to test for canine flaws.
Mayor Bradshaw and some of his sycophants sat in a fancy box specially designed for the event, that stood about six feet over the proceedings.
He waved a baton to tell the master of ceremonies to begin the test. Jenny Kent went first with Angus the Scottie. The dog had been the most stubborn of any in the program but Jenny had worked tirelessly with him and it showed today. He trotted calmly by her side and jumped on a small stage for the first challenge, which was performing basic commands without treats or other incentives. Sit. Stand. Down. Stay. Leave it. Drop it. Jenny circled the platform and the Scottie’s rectangular head swivelled to watch her. At the next station, he had to approach and meet several strangers, all of whom leaned down to pat him. The third challenge was Angus’s weak spot: he had to walk right through a small pen containing live, squawking chickens. As a dog with a high prey drive, it was probably torture, but he made it with only one slight leash correction from Jenny. The fourth station required walking through an enclosure of shrieking children banging and clanging musical instruments. The fifth was a pen of energetic dogs, all off leash, which was managed by Cori herself. Sixth, and last, they stepped onto the long platform to wait. The final test would occur when all the dogs were ready and in position.
Brianne went next with Nugget and passed without a single error. The two young men with their bull terrier crosses also did well, with only a couple of minor blips in the pen full of dogs.
The master of ceremonies tapped James and Rocky to go next. Kinney was last on the list, presumably as the poster girl for the program.
She held her breath as James and Rocky set off. The big dog moved with his usual deliberation, but today he kept pace with James and even looked up at him occasionally for direction. James walked with calm authority and he no longer pleaded with Rocky to do his bidding. She couldn’t even hear his quiet commands. He preferred to use hand gestures instead of saying anything at all.
The first challenge went well, and they went on to meet the strangers. Rocky bounced for a second on his paws but simmered down with one look from James. Six different people patted Rocky one by one on different parts of his body. The dog was stoic, like the statue that loomed over them. After succeeding at that, the rest went smoothly. Rocky ignored the clanging children and the chickens completely. The pen of dogs brought his ruff up momentarily, but a look from Cori settled it so fast the judges may not have noticed. When they reached the platform at the end, Kinney raised her hand in a salute and James returned it, grinning.
Finally, it was her turn. Squatting, she spoke to Whiskey. “This is it, buddy. They’re going to try to spook you, but I’ve got your back. Whatever happens, it’s you and me. Got that?”
He leaned over and licked her face and an “awww” rippled through the crowd.
The master of ceremonies clapped and called for silence.
Whiskey whizzed through his basic commands and happily submitted to being greeted by strangers. He was very much interested in herding the chickens, but Kinney urged him on. The next station with the children banging on instruments was going to be a tough one. His big ears went down and his tail followed suit. But Kinney spoke in a quiet, confident voice to assure him that tuneless music offered no threat. The pen of dogs brought his tail and ears back up and he wagged enthusiastically. He tried a play pose, but Kinney kept him moving forward to the platform.
She exchanged wary glances with James. That had all seemed a bit too easy. Surely there was a grenade waiting to go off? Perhaps literally, to frighten her dog to death.
After taking her assigned position at the end of the row, Kinney felt Whiskey turn. Then he let out a long, low whine that sounded like pain and joy combined. Following his glance, she saw something that made her stomach flip and plunge. It was Jacinda Allen and her husband, Whiskey’s original owners. Last Kinney had heard, Jacinda was overseas on tour. Now she was right here, ringside. Was she hoping to reclaim the dog who adored her? The dog Kinney now adored more than she’d thought possible?
He started to pull on his leash and she hissed for him to stop. She tried to catch Jacinda’s eye but the woman had locked onto Whiskey like a sniper. “Hey, Whiskey,” she called.
That was it.
The dog dashed off the riser, ripping the leash from Kinney’s hand, and raced to his former owner. She knelt and took him into her arms, laughing and crying. He let out a drawn-out wail that brought tears to every eye on the platform, including James’. Kinney took one look at him and broke down.
Whiskey had chosen Jacinda.
Jacinda had been gone for months, whereas Kinney had made this dog the center of her universe, working and playing hard with him day and night. Yet Whiskey still loved Jacinda more. He had never made those sounds for Kinney, and every whimper broke her heart all over. After all her struggles, she wasn’t enough for this dog.
James threw his arm around her and whispered, “It’s not about you. She just came first, that’s all. Dogs don’t know any better.”
Kinney sat down on the edge of the platform, worried she might actually faint. Hundreds of people were staring at her, and Madison’s camera zoomed in to catch every tear.
Cori got out of the dog pen and ran over to her. “Don’t you fall apart on me, Kinney Butterfield.”
Tears streamed down Kinney’s face. “It’s like losing Kali all over.” She realized that when her guard was down, Whiskey had surreptitiously taught her to love again. That, in turn, left her wide open to the terrible pain of loss. “I can’t, Cori. I can’t.”
“You can. This is what comes of loving dogs, Kinney. The joy and the pain go hand in hand.” Cori’s dark eyes filled, too—something Kinney couldn’t remember seeing before. “You need to pick up and go on.” She reached out and shook Kinney’s arm gently. “That’s what we all do. Because not loving them is not living.”
Wiping her face with her bare arm, Kinney shook her head. “No.”
Cori shook h
er arm harder. “Yes. Get up and call Whiskey. He will come.”
Kinney sobbed harder. “I won’t. He deserves to be happy. If he wants her, I stand down.”
“This isn’t a love test,” Cori said. “That woman can’t provide the stable home he needs right now, and the dog knows it, trust me.”
It was a love test, though. Kinney had seen how bonded Whiskey was to Jacinda back in January. It wasn’t fair to expect him to switch allegiances when that option opened again. She had always been second best to this dog.
There was a rush of air and she felt the impact of fur hitting her bent head. Whiskey was leaping around, trying to lick her face. She raised her head and he stared at her with bright eyes. It was like he was saying, “Break’s over. Let’s get back to work.”
Cori gave Kinney a shove. “Get up and take your position. If you pass this test, it’ll be a freaking miracle.”
The participants stood in a line, with dogs seated at their sides. From above, the mayor yelled, “Fire!”
Kinney wasn’t sure how many pistols shot off at once, but every dog in sight reacted, including the cavorting pups in the pen Cori had left. Some barked, some whined, many dropped to the ground shaking. But all of the dogs on the platform stood firm.
There was a long, still pause afterwards, during which Kinney’s ears rang. It was like everything happened in slow motion. She looked down and locked eyes with Whiskey. He didn’t so much as flinch. He had passed this challenge—his worst—with aplomb. It meant she had successfully rehabilitated him from his trauma, and for that she was grateful, even if he went home today with Jacinda.
The Master of Ceremonies called for attention and announced the verdicts. One by one, each person stepped forward with their dog and got a red ribbon signifying they’d passed the test. Jenny and Brianne were crying now, too. James and Rocky were both impassive as they received their red ribbon, and James turned anxiously to Kinney.
After a dramatic pause, the MC declared: “I regret to say that Ms. Kinney Butterfield and Whiskey have failed the exam. The dog disobeyed and broke away, which could have resulted in injury. Officer Wyatt Cobb will speak with Miss Butterfield now about the implications.”
Bold and Blue in Dog Town: (Dog Town 9) Page 19