by Dale Mayer
“We’re trying to get through the forensics,” one of the men said, “so she can open the clinic today.”
He smiled at that. “Thank you for even considering it.”
“Hey, we’re doing the best we can. She helped save our men. We’re trying to help save her business.”
Zane stepped inside, watching as the men moved through the place. “I guess it’s still a few hours until she opens up for the day.”
“Yes. She asked for a deadline of nine a.m., if we could.”
“Where is she?”
“In her office, sleeping,” one of the men said. “I’ve already fingerprinted in there. She never once moved.”
He nodded and stepped through the room. “You guys okay if I bring in the dog?”
“The dog looks exhausted, but absolutely,” one guy said.
Moving the very tired Katch with him back to the office, Zach stepped inside and closed the door. Katch walked over to the cot and sniffed Holly. She murmured and rolled over.
“Katch, lie down,” Zane whispered.
Katch just looked at him. But he slowly sagged to the floor beside Holly. She never woke up. Zane walked to her chair and wondered about sitting and sleeping there. He decided lying down beside Katch was probably the better answer.
He sat down beside the dog. His tail wagged, and, as Zane lay here, the dog reached up his paw and dropped it gently on his shoulder. “Right, boy,” he said. He closed his eyes. He’d spent enough years training himself to sleep when he could because, on a lot of navy missions, there was just no getting eight hours for anybody.
He lay here half asleep until he heard her start to wake.
“Zane, is that you?” she murmured.
“It is,” he said.
“Are you hurt? Are you okay?” She bolted upright and stared down at him.
He opened his eyes and smiled up at her. “We’re both okay. Katch did a great job,” he said, reaching out to gently stroke Katch’s forehead and nose. “He’s pretty tired, and that’ll probably slow his healing, but he did a fantastic job.”
Holly leaned over and gently cuddled the dog. “I’m so happy for you, Katch. Talk about redeeming qualities.”
“I think the other guys were pretty impressed too,” he said. “But I have to admit, I’m done. Are you capable of actually working today?”
“It’s just office visits, thankfully no surgeries, but I’m certainly tired,” she said. “It’s a half day, being Saturday, so that’s a good thing.”
“So you’re working from nine till noon?”
“Nine to one,” she said.
“And then we’ll crash, right?”
“Not at all,” she said. “You’ll crash now. I’ll come home when I’m done after the morning visits.”
“No,” he said, “absolutely not. You’ve got maybe two hours left before it’s time to open. You and I’ll crash here. At nine o’clock you’ll get up, be the good vet, and, at one o’clock, we’ll go home.” He closed his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest.
“You look like you’re posed to be buried,” she said with a chuckle.
“Nope, not quite,” he said.
“How badly did I hurt him?” she asked.
He heard the worry in her voice. “I don’t think you killed him, and that’s too damn bad. Because somebody like that won’t stop.”
“But they’ll put him in jail now, won’t they?”
“He’s getting medical treatment first,” he said. “And then jail, yes. But it’s hard to know that guy’s always out there. Always waiting.”
“But, if he’s jailed long enough,” she said, “then he could be in jail longer than the dog is likely to live.”
He thought about that for a long moment, then nodded. “A sad thought but true enough. Maybe that’s all we need to focus on then.”
“I’d say so,” she said. She lay back down again. “I am so tired.”
“Exactly. Close your eyes and sleep.”
“Only if you do,” she said with a laugh.
“If we wake up early enough,” he said, “I suggest we get a big breakfast. In the meantime, it’s all about sleep.” And he closed his eyes and crashed.
Chapter 13
She walked to the door with Mrs. Mohnishe and smiled at the huge ginger-colored tomcat. Well, he was no longer a tomcat but still all cat as he walked out the door on a leash with his owner. “You have a great weekend,” Holly called out.
Mrs. Mohnishe waved at her. “You too.”
Holly headed back into the reception area to see Mittle sitting there with the stack of files she was organizing in order to close up the clinic. “Everyone is gone. Can we leave?”
“Yep. Everybody’s done and gone,” Mittle said. “Including all the cops and all the forensic people. Everybody but one.”
Holly didn’t have to ask who was the one. She knew Zane was still crashed in her office. She walked back into the office to see him just waking up.
He smiled and said, “Is it time to go home?”
“It sure as hell is,” she said, stifling a yawn. “I’m just not so sure what to do about Katch.”
“Let’s take him home and see how he does in your yard.”
She frowned. “I’m not keeping him.”
“Maybe not,” he said, “but I am.”
She stared at him, a light growing inside her. “What does that mean?”
“Not sure yet. But when a bond is formed, you don’t dismiss it that easily,” he said with a smile. “Now let’s get some food, just pick it up I guess, because we have the dog with us, and go home.”
He stood and looked down at Katch, still sleeping on the floor. Then he rolled over; his head was up, his ears up too. Zane asked, “Do you want to go home, boy?”
He gave a short bark and hopped to his feet.
“I should check him over first,” Holly said.
“I suggest you bring whatever he needs home,” Zane said. “Medication for pain, for the rest of today and overnight, so we can give it to him there.”
She nodded. “Give me a few minutes, and I’ll collect some stuff.” She turned around and headed into the back room, where she grabbed some pain medication for the dog and another dose of antibiotics.
She came back, and, with Zane holding Katch—even though he didn’t fight them—Holly gave him a shot of the antibiotics and another of pain meds.
“I’ll bring more pain medication home with us,” she said, “and another dose of the antibiotics. We should be good to go for the rest of today.”
“Make sure we’re good to go until Monday,” Zane said. “As much as I don’t have a problem with you having the clinic, I really don’t want to come back today or tomorrow if we don’t have to.”
She smiled up at him. “I can’t think of anything better.” She went back, packed up a small bag and grabbed her purse, then headed out. “Come on. Mittle’s leaving too.”
They walked out to the front, set the security alarm, which the one policeman got working again, locked the door, and stepped outside.
She took several deep breaths, looked up at the sky and said, “I really want to just go home and crash.”
“Do we have enough food?”
“There’s got to be,” she said. “We’ll make do. I grabbed some dog food from the clinic too. We should be good.”
He motioned to the back of the pickup. “Don’t really want him to travel in the bed of the truck.”
“You’ve got room in the back seat,” she said.
And that was what they did, helping Katch get in the back seat of the double-cab pickup. Zane turned on the engine, waited until Holly had her seat belt buckled up and then headed home.
“Home,” she said with a whisper. “I don’t think it’s ever sounded quite so good.”
“I hear you,” he said. “I really want to hear from the cops that it’s all done, that this guy is secured.”
She looked at him. “He has to be secured?”
�
�No, he doesn’t,” he said drily, “But all kinds of shit can happen. I’ll contact the cops when we get back to your place.”
They would be home within a few minutes, and she couldn’t wait. As she opened the truck door and hopped out, Katch barked from the back seat. She opened the back door for him and helped him get down. With a leash attached to the simple collar, she led him up to the front door and stopped, looking behind her.
Zane was searching the area. She was surrounded by trees on all sides, even the driveway that wove its path through the trees. She called out, “What are you looking for?”
He gave her a shuttered look. “Anything and nothing.”
On that note she turned and walked into her house. She didn’t want to think about that asshole coming after her and the dog. The cops had him. He was injured. That should be the end of it.
Inside, she put her stuff on the counter and walked over to put on the teakettle. Zane might want coffee, but she was desperate for a good cup of tea.
She stared out the back and then turned to watch as Katch wandered around the inside of her house, sniffing everything. He was still bloody, but that would be a little hard to clean up for now. He was also quite tired.
He’s looking for a place to lie down. Holly walked to the front closet and pulled out a blanket she kept for cold evenings when she wanted to just sit outside. She folded it into a thick pad and laid it on the living room floor. Katch collapsed on top of it.
She squatted in front of him, gently scratching him on the head. “You just rest, boy. You just rest.”
She heard Zane coming in the front door, his heavy footsteps welcoming as he walked in.
He came through to the kitchen, looking for her, and saw her beside Katch. He smiled. “How is he doing?”
“Exhausted, needing to heal. He requires rest and time to recover,” she said. “At least a week.”
He nodded. “I’m not at all surprised. He took the brunt of this last attack. But he also gave as good as he got.” He stopped, turned and looked at her again and smiled. “And then so did you.”
She just shrugged. “Honestly, I grabbed the closest weapon I could find, and I just started slashing.”
“You slashed pretty good.” He looked at the teakettle. “Did you just put that on?”
“I did, why?”
“Would you mind if I put on coffee?”
“Go for it,” she said. “Make yourself at home.”
She watched from Katch’s side as Zane bustled about the kitchen and efficiently put on a small pot of coffee. At least he didn’t have a problem with making what he wanted.
When he was done, he crouched and eyed the wounds on Katch’s body. “He’s been through a lot, hasn’t he?”
“Too much,” Holly announced. She hopped to her feet. “And so have I. I need food too.” She opened the fridge.
Zane stood behind her. “There’s at least enough for sandwiches, if you have bread.”
She nodded. “That might be all there is.”
He bent and pulled out the small freezer drawer in the bottom and found steaks and chops and some chicken breasts. But also a couple packages of ham were up a level in the bottom drawer in the fridge. He brought them out. “How about a ham and egg sandwich?”
She smiled. “That sounds wonderful.”
Together they made a simple lunch, and, within a few minutes, they were both sitting down to eat—her with one sandwich and him with two.
As soon as she was done, she yawned. “You know what? I slept a lot, but all that chaos …”
“It’s adrenaline,” he said. “Nap time.”
She glanced at her watch. “It’s two o’clock. I’m scared to sleep too much, then not sleep tonight.”
“Then set an alarm,” he said. “That’s not a hardship, is it?”
“No, but it’s not the same as waking up on your own,” she said with a smile. “I swear alarm clocks are the demon’s tools.”
He chuckled at that. “I’ll clean up our lunch,” he said. “You go on up.”
“Okay,” she said, almost stumbling on her way. She stopped in the hallway and turned to look back at him. “And then we’ll talk.”
He raised an eyebrow. “About what?”
His tone was so neutral that she knew he already understood just what the subject would be. “You already know,” she said, “so make sure you’re available for that conversation—which needs to happen regardless.”
“Does it?” he asked.
“Absolutely,” she said. “You’re not getting out of it this time.”
He smiled, and she headed up to her room.
Upstairs she took off her outer layer of clothing and, just in her underwear, crawled under the covers. She didn’t know how long she’d sleep, but she was willing to give it a go. She curled up in a ball, closed her eyes, thought about Zane downstairs cleaning up the kitchen, and she smiled. “At least he knows where he belongs,” she said with a chuckle.
And let sleep pull her under.
Zane wasn’t very good with those kinds of conversations. As a matter of fact, they always seemed to take him a direction he didn’t want to go. But, as he stood moodily out in the backyard, he knew it needed to happen, and sooner was better than later.
His phone buzzed, a call from his brother. He answered it. “Hey, Butch, what’s up?”
“You apparently,” his brother said. “What’s all this I hear about poor Holly’s clinic getting broken into, not once but twice?”
“Somebody was after the dog I came here to check on,” Zane said and explained everything.
His brother’s response was, “I don’t give a damn about the dog. What’s happening to Holly?”
“Not a whole lot now,” he said. “She’s taking a nap. The guy broke into her clinic to get at the dog.”
“Reggie should have kept the dog.”
“We were trying to get the dog away from the guy who’s been hunting him,” Zane said patiently.
“You should let him have it. The dog is too much trouble. Chances are he’ll be put down anyway.”
“Why is that?” Zane asked, his temper sparking. He’d fought long and hard to save this dog. The last thing he wanted to do was listen to anymore attitude from people like his brother.
“Because he’s obviously dangerous,” he said. “For God’s sake, it’s just a dog.” He hung up.
Zane put away his phone, hating that, once again, something so simple as saving a dog, a veteran, would drive a wedge between him and his family. It didn’t seem to matter what the issue, Zane was always on the wrong side. When it came to serving his country, the others not only had argued against it, they’d mocked him for it, not understanding why he wanted to do it. Now here he was with just a simple case of saving a dog from cruel mistreatment. But, once again, his dad and brother were on the other side. Zane assumed his father wouldn’t change his mind from the words he’d spoken just a couple days ago.
Zane was pretty sure, at this point, his brother called to let Zane know how Butch felt about putting Holly in danger. That wasn’t what Zane or Holly needed right now, but Zane wouldn’t be surprised to have his father call and give him shit too.
Zane brought Katch back inside. He sipped his coffee, realizing Holly hadn’t bothered to make her cup of tea. Whereas he himself had a small pot of coffee to drink on his own. Katch’s tail wagged ever-so-slightly as Zane walked toward him and sat down on the living room couch beside Katch. “It’s all right, boy. We’re doing okay. You just need to get your strength back.”
The best thing for Zane and Katch would be to find a place to live a long way away from here. Thankfully all the policemen involved in the takedown of McAfee had already mentioned how they were petitioning to have the citizen complaints against Katch overruled by their own commendations. Zane felt good about that but wondered whether the rest of the guys in blue would accept him and Katch without proof of their worth, whether seen as veterans or not.
People around the
area had very long memories, and Zane didn’t know how the other locals felt about him protecting Katch, but Zane knew his father and brother wouldn’t go easy on him. But why? They didn’t have anything to do with Zane anyway.
Even if he did stay, he couldn’t imagine he’d have much of a relationship with either of them. If they did see each other, Zane would have to tell them that the subject of killing dogs was taboo, especially when it came to Katch individually. They would have to agree to disagree or just not see each other again. That wasn’t much of a threat except for where it involved Holly. Zane would tell his dad and his brother to honor Holly’s profession and to leave this subject unmentioned.
After all, when Zane was gone for his years in the navy, even the last year as he recuperated, Dad and Butch hadn’t bothered to call or write, so Zane doubted they would do the cozy backyard barbecues on weekends just because he was nearby either.
In a way, it saddened him. Brody was the only one their father was close to, and even they weren’t very close. Not in a healthy or normal way. Three boys and one drunken father. Each of the boys trying to grow up, to understand the world around them, without killing themselves or their father in the process. So much anger was involved in that kind of a childhood environment, but Zane had lost most of his in the navy. Nothing like doing sit-ups and ten-mile runs to exhaust his anger—or at least otherwise occupy his time when he was awake.
He wasn’t sure about the next step, the forgiveness part. But he admitted he was working on it.
Zane hadn’t even understood he had anything to forgive until he saw his father again, and then Zane realized all he could do at this point was accept that his father was an old man who wanted nothing but to sit in his own pile of negativity. Zane didn’t have to join his father in that useless and unproductive endeavor. Unfortunately, it looked like his eldest brother was going the same route. Zane had hoped Sandra would be a soothing effect for Butch. Zane just didn’t know about that now. It might not be enough.
And what about him? Here he was in Holly’s house, looking at the world from a very different place than he had before. He knew she wanted to resume their relationship, and he hated to admit her having married his brother was a stumbling block for him. And it was his own stumbling block. He couldn’t blame her for moving on. He couldn’t blame his brother for wanting her. She was beautiful, smart, and funny. The fact that they had actually made it, gotten married, and been happy for a couple years was a kindness, in his mind, to both of them. He didn’t want his brother to have gone to his grave unhappy, and, in the years that Zane was gone, he didn’t want Holly to be unhappy either. If Zane and Holly had been together, and he’d died, he’d want her to move on too.
