Pierce

by Dale Mayer

  Pierce chuckled. “That’s Kat. And she’s dynamite. She’s also an amputee herself, so, if she says she can do something for you, she can do something for you.”

  “Holy shit. I’m so damn grateful. I feel like everything has flipped around now.”

  “But that doesn’t mean you’re over the hump yet,” Pierce warned. “You take good care of yourself. I’ll hang up and see if I can find some bloody coffee in this place. Then I’ll work out some modifications for the house, and we’ll sit down and talk money, once we sort out the bank account, what you have left.”

  “Okay, will do,” Pete said, his voice slowing, hesitating. “I know this shit is expensive, so it needs to be just, you know, basics to begin with.”

  Pete said goodbye, and Pierce shut off the call. “Do you have any idea where the coffee might be in here?”

  He turned around to see Hedi already opening cupboards. She smiled at him. “Who knows?” She pulled out an almost empty bag of coffee. “It’s enough for one pot.” She filled the coffeemaker and had a pot brewing quickly. She turned around, took one look at him, studying him for a long moment. “Why are you doing this?”

  He’d been looking at his phone, checking for messages. At her words, he stopped and looked up at her. His gaze was open and serious. “I came to rescue a dog. But War Dogs are War Dogs, both man and animal. I’ve been there, done that, and, if I can give a helping hand to another veteran, I’m all in. Pete’s got a bum deal here. I’m not sure what the hell is going on with Jed and Ross, and whoever else is hanging around that same crowd, but they’re all bad news.”

  “Oh, I know they’re bad news,” she said quietly. “But, like I said before—you’ve stepped into the middle of a hornet’s nest, and you’ve got it all stirred up.”

  “Good,” he said. “Time to swat those little buggers.” He looked out the window, his gaze caught on something.

  “What do you see?”

  “The shepherd is hanging around the house,” he said.

  She looked but couldn’t see what was bothering him.

  “I don’t want to put food out. She needs to know she can come in and get food.”

  “Any time she’s gotten close to men lately,” Hedi said seriously, “she’s gotten hurt. Maybe you should give a little to break the ice.”

  “I might have to,” he said, pondering the issue. He got up to poke through the fridge and freezer. “If there was at least a bone or something, I could give it to her. Even dog food would help.”

  “There should have been some. Ross said he had an intruder who stole everything, but I figure Jed just came and took it all,” Hedi said. “Let me help you look. They might have missed something.”

  Together they went through the cabinets. Triumphantly Hedi found the remnants of an old bag in the back corner. “I bet he forgot about this one. There’s only four, maybe six cups, but it’ll give the dog something to start with.” She handed Pierce the bag and watched as he dumped it all into a large bowl and walked out back.

  He judged the distance between him and where he’d seen the dog; then he put down several piles, one farther away, another closer, and then another one closer yet. The last one he left in the bowl itself. Then he walked back inside and poured a cup of coffee.

  “What makes you think she’ll come in?”

  “She’s hungry,” he said. “She’s also apparently scared and worried about getting caught. If she’s been that badly abused, then she’ll stay away from all men. But this is also home to her and probably has some good memories.”

  “Yes,” she said, nodding. “How quickly can Pete get back here?”

  “I’m not sure,” he said, taking a sip of his coffee. “But, once we get him home, if we haven’t got any modifications done, we’ll find a way to make some quick and fast changes for him. The kitchen is a problem. It’s open enough, but the area to sit, it’s pretty small, pretty crowded.”

  She walked to the wall behind the island where the dining room table sat. “If this wall isn’t structural, why not take it out?”

  He nodded, looking up at the way the joists and the ceiling met with the walls. “I don’t think it is structural.” He looked from the wall to the countertop that extended far out. “That would probably give him enough access. He can work at the counters, but this outside piece here … Yeah, you’re right. That might be the best answer.” He looked at it for a long moment. “It’s just drywall. I could probably pop that off in no time, see just what the framing is like. If it’s simple, I could take it down.”

  “It’ll be the electrical threading through the walls that would cause trouble,” she said.

  “Not really,” he said. “I can do almost all house wiring. I just can’t do high-voltage stuff.”

  She looked at him in surprise. “It sounds like you’re a pretty handy guy to have around.”

  He shrugged. “You learn to do an awful lot when you’re flipping houses. I can put in sinks and do basic plumbing too, but, if you want fancy stuff, I don’t know. I might need some help.”

  “Do you think you can modify the bathroom?”

  He frowned at her. “I can. I’m just not sure I could make it look decorator pretty. He needs to have access to the toilet with handicap bars, and he needs a wheelchair-accessible sink and shower stall. Would a shower chair work? I’ll have to do some research on that. Maybe talk to these friends of mine.”

  “Are they amputees too?”

  He grinned. “Yes. Eight former SEALs began Titanium Corp, and all are missing at least an arm or a leg or both,” he said, roaming the kitchen with an eye toward renovations. “Lots of back injuries too. Steel plates, all kinds of extras they weren’t born with.”

  “What about you?” she asked. “Are you missing body parts?”

  “Sure I am,” he said. “Lots of tissue, muscle, a chunk of liver, gallbladder, one kidney, and”—he kicked out his leg—“I’m missing the lower leg.”

  “So you really do understand what Pete’s going through.”

  “I do,” he said. “And I know, if he’s over the hump, he’ll be okay now. But we have to do everything we can to make it possible for him to come home.”

  “He’s missing both legs below the knees I believe, or is one above?”

  “He’s missing both lower legs,” Pierce said. “Lots of guys without both legs can still walk.”

  “So you’re trying to make room for a wheelchair as a contingency while he gets better or when he’s too tired or if he has an injury and needs to be in the wheelchair. But, other than that, he should be capable of walking with prosthetics?”

  “Potentially down the road. It takes time for the body to heal before attaching the new limbs. Plus he’s got some back injuries, so we have to strengthen that up. Let’s just say he has a lot of work ahead of him.”

  “But it’s doable?”

  He looked at her in surprise. “It’s absolutely doable. That’s why I’m here, to help make it happen as much as we can.”

  “But that’s not what you came for.”

  “No, it isn’t.” He looked out the window for Salem, turned and added, “That seems to bug you. Yes, I came for the dog, but then I found out what was happening at Pete’s place. It’s really no contest. The two dovetail together. If Pete can come home, the dog gets a home again, and then somebody just needs to keep an eye on Pete to make sure he doesn’t have any setbacks and that the dog is still okay.”

  She laughed. “I can’t tell if you care more about Pete or the dog.”

  “Doesn’t matter,” Pierce said. “They both need help, and we’ve got to get both back home. In the meantime, I’ve apparently stirred up some angry people.”

  “That you have,” she said.

  “Is that why you’re here?” he asked. “You don’t think I can handle this on my own?”

  “I think it’s quite possible my dad’s right, and they’ll likely burn this place to the ground before they let you have it.”

  He studied her fa
ce for a long moment. “And nobody will do anything to stop them?”

  “You saw the sheriff. He just backs away anytime there’s a fight.”

  “What happens when the people are fed up with the sheriff? How do you get rid of him?”

  “We have to go above him.”

  “What if he quits?” Pierce’s voice was almost a challenge.

  “Then somebody has a temporary promotion until a new election.”

  “Interesting,” Pierce said. “I don’t do politics. I’m too much of a person who likes to get things done, and screw it if people are happy or unhappy with it.”

  “Are you still registered at the hotel?” she asked, leaning against the counter, sipping her coffee.

  He refilled his cup and faced her. “No. I checked out this morning.”

  “So you had already planned to move in today?”

  “I was happy to have his brother stay, particularly if I thought he would give us a hand with the reno. But I don’t want any more deadbeats bringing Pete down.”

  She nodded. “So did you bring groceries?”

  “Not yet,” he said cheerfully. “I can make a trip to town.”

  “You probably don’t want to leave right now,” she said. “Ross is likely to have somebody keeping a lookout to see if you do. And, once you’re gone, he’ll be back with company. You’ll find it much harder to get back in.”

  “Right. Good point,” he said. “I think I’ve got a few protein bars in the truck, and that might have to do, if there isn’t anything around here.” He opened the fridge and snorted. “If I’m staying here, I need to get some food. Ross obviously doesn’t care about actual nutrition.”

  “Since it seems I’m coming back this evening, why don’t I pick up some basics?”

  He turned and looked at her. “Why are you coming back?”

  “Same reason I’m here now,” she said. “I don’t like the idea of you being alone with that gang. They’ll lose their tempers with you.”

  “Oh.” He grinned. “It sounds good to me. I’m so glad you’re worried about me, sweetie.”

  She narrowed her gaze at him. “The name is Hedi. Don’t call me sweetie.”

  “Okay. I won’t, sweetheart. Hedi’s kind of a slang nickname anyway, isn’t it?”

  She fisted her hands on her hips and glared at him.

  He chuckled, opening a cabinet, finding cereal. “Let’s do a quick list. Don’t know exactly what’s available, but we could use some milk for this cereal, if nothing else. Some eggs, bread, and bacon for breakfast.” He rummaged through some of the other cupboards. “There’s really nothing here. Salad fixings, pasta, maybe a pack or two of hamburger, some buns, that type of thing. Can you handle that?”

  “I can handle that,” she said, “as long as you don’t care about the quality and are happy with the choices I make.”

  “It’s food,” he said. “I’ll be happy.” He pulled his wallet from his back pocket, pulled out two hundred dollars and handed it to her. “Groceries,” he said.

  She looked at the money in surprise. “That’s a lot of grocery money.”

  “I’ve got to eat, and I’ve got to work,” he said. “Just make sure you pick up some dog food and not too cheap of a brand. Salem’ll need real food. Thinking of which, better make that several packages of ground beef. I could always get her to eat meat too.”

  Hedi walked out to her car. The sun was beginning to set. “I’ll be at least an hour, probably twice that.”

  “Not a problem,” he said. “I’ll cook dinner for you when you get in, depending on how late it is.”

  “I’m likely to pick up dinner instead.”

  “If there’s any money left, go for it,” he said. “I’ll start working on ramps. That’s probably the easiest thing to begin with. I saw a lot of wood in the barn, and I can certainly get something started while you’re out and about.”

  She nodded. “You take care.” And she headed back into town.

  Such an interesting woman. And a novelty to have somebody pitch in and help. He hated the idea of her getting caught up in this mess though. Still, just the thought of her made him smile. He did have a lot of good friends, and he was concerned about giving a heads-up to Badger. Thinking of that, he stopped what he was doing, pulled out his phone and updated him.

  Badger’s response was immediate. “Do you want some backup?”

  “The deputy is coming back, but I’m not exactly sure when she’ll make it. It’s a pretty strange scenario,” he admitted. “I think Jessie, her father, who’s the former sheriff, would be here in a pinch, but it’s not the same as having men of your own.”

  “Let me talk to Pete and see if anybody in town can help you out.”

  “Okay. He’s the one who contacted Hedi’s dad, the ex-sheriff. And we need to figure out what to do about the current sheriff.”

  “Yeah, that’s a bad one,” Badger said. “I’ll get back to you on that.” And he hung up.

  Pierce put the phone on the table and something caught his eyes. He looked up to see a massive black shepherd wolfing down the bit of dog food he’d put at the farthest point out. Pierce walked to the open doorway and stepped out on the porch. She froze and stared at him. “It’s all right, Salem. I know you’ve had a pretty shitty time, but we’re getting you back here, and Pete’s coming home too.”

  Her ears twitched, but that was all. She kept eating, her eyes focused on him. If he took one step toward her, he knew she’d bolt. He kept his voice low and steady, just talking to her, leaning against the porch railing. “Make sure you eat up. You’ll need it. I’ve got more food coming, but it’ll be a few hours yet.”

  She finished the pile in front of her and raised her head, still studying him, her muscles tense, ready. She glanced to the side, as if hearing a sound, then hunkered down a little lower, but her gaze never left that area.

  “Is something there? Wouldn’t be at all surprised. Some two-legged wolves are in this part of the country,” he said. “They might be foolish enough to attack.”

  Then she seemed to relax at the constant voice talking to her. She moved a step closer.

  “You can do it,” he said. “Come on to the next pile. You need it. That’s nowhere near enough food for you yet.”

  She took a few more steps in. Her nose had already caught the scent of the next pile. Nervously she crept forward enough so that she could devour the second pile.

  “Come on. Eat it up,” he said in an encouraging tone.

  She was big. Her coat was shaggy and matted. She limped, and blood was on her flank but there didn’t appear to be an open wound. She moved slowly, and she was injured, but she wasn’t that badly physically hurt. However, the look in her eyes was one of betrayal, one that said she didn’t trust anybody anymore, and that broke his heart.

  He took two slow steps down the porch, stopped and sat. She froze, her mouth full of food, but not chewing as she watched him. He stayed in place and just kept talking to her. Finally she lowered her head and ate the rest of the food.

  “So what did you do? Just got loose from the police yard? How did they catch you again? Probably with food and that’s why you’re so nervous.” He looked around the area. There should have been fences around the homestead itself. It was a nice property, and, with a little bit of care, it could be quite a nice place, depending on how much land he had here. Pete could possibly have crops that could either help him out grocery-wise or be something he could sell and make a little money.

  Pierce sat here quietly, content while the dog ate. When the third pile was gone, she looked at him and backed up slightly. The bowl was just a little too close to Pierce.

  “It’ll be here for you. You’ve had three piles. That’ll take the worst of the hunger off.”

  She continued to back up. When something crackled in the bush beside him, she spun and raced off. He was happy to see her movements were clean and powerful. She held her back leg too low to the ground for a clean run, but then she was injured
. He couldn’t really tell how or how badly, but at least she’d been fed.

  He walked to the side of the house where he’d heard crackling in a bush. He wasn’t sure what was out here, if it was another dog or a wild animal or something he was quite prepared to beat into the ground. He did a quick search but saw nothing.

  As he was about to walk away, he heard a meow. He turned to see a ragtag cat walking toward him. It didn’t look underfed, but it didn’t look terribly healthy either. He stopped and bent down. “Hey, kitty. What are you doing here?”

  “Meow, meow.” The cat sauntered closer. It looked like a tomcat, part of an ear torn, patch of fur missing.

  He didn’t know if he’d been fighting other cats or taking down prey a little too big for him. Pierce reached out a hand, scooped it up, not surprised when the cat allowed him to pick him up. With the cat in his arms, he walked to the barn. “There should be a ton of food for you in here. Barns always have mice.” He scratched the guy behind the ear, listening to the great big guttural engine kick in, and smiled. “You’re probably Pete’s too, aren’t you?”

  In the barn he put the cat on a bale of hay, then stopped and stared, finally struck by what he saw before him. “Pete, why do you have hay? I don’t see any horses or cows.” But there was hay, a good forty, maybe sixty bales of it. He frowned, hoping Ross hadn’t sold off livestock that Pete had owned.

  Pierce turned to the wood supply. Found at least six good solid sheets of plywood. A full sheet would be too broad, but he took out his tape measure and marked off what he needed. What he also needed was some solid tools.

  He headed into the open workshop and found a circular saw and a few power tools. He grinned when he saw those. “Thought I would have to do this the old-fashioned way.”

  “And just what’s the old-fashioned way?”

  He turned to see Ross standing stiffly in the doorway. Pierce looked at him. “By hand,” he said.