Pilot cleared his throat. “Meagan, there’s more you should know. In Mr. O’Hare’s past is a span of time in which he disappeared – went completely off the radar. It would appear he was AWOL. There’s no record of his location or what he did while missing. Then, a few months ago, he resurfaced suddenly.”
The bells above the door jingled as Mrs. Abernathy entered the office with Silas in tow. “Okay, where do I sign? No offense, but Silas is raring to break out of here.”
“None taken.” Directing the woman to the signature lines on the several pages of release documentation, Meagan explained the owner’s fee necessary to cover the animal’s stay at the shelter.
“Now that’s a fine thing. Have to pay to get you out of jail, Silas.” She dug in her purse before handing over the fifty dollars required. “Here’s another twenty. Maybe it will help some of the others.”
Meagan took the money. “Thank you.” She wrote out two receipts for the payments and handed them over. “Every dollar saves lives.”
As Silas sniffed at Pilot’s pant legs, Meagan opened the door for Mrs. Abernathy. “Again, I’m so glad you found your fur baby.”
“Thanks, honey. You’re a good girl. I appreciate you taking such good care of my Silas. We’ll visit again, how’s that?”
“I would enjoy you dropping by any time, Mrs. Abernathy. Bye, Silas.” With a good scratch under the chin, Meagan said a heartfelt farewell to one of the lucky ones. “Oh, if they could all be so lucky,” she murmured as she turned back to Pilot.
“Your work here is commendable, Meagan. You make a difference.”
Meagan studied Pilot’s ashen face for a full five seconds. “Thanks, Pilot. I do my best.” She switched her attention to the paperwork on the desk before adding, “I remember what it feels like to be alone.”
Pilot shuffled to the door. “Well, you’re not alone anymore. I will keep you abreast of any further information on Mr. O’Hare. Goodbye.”
“Later, Pilot.” His shadowy Victorian countenance disappeared through the closed door as swiftly as he had appeared. Following the documentation necessary to close the file on Silas, Meagan’s day returned to the mundane but vital work of hosing down the pens after feeding. A thorough check of each temporary tenant as Meagan liked to think of the abandoned or lost dogs were made. Soon it was lunchtime. Time to go in search of the wolfdog who had escaped the day before. If not for the simple pleasure of leaving Sue’s negativity behind or the dull ache in her chest for those on the euthanasian list, Meagan admitted she was intrigued by the dog from the day before. Where there was hope, there was satisfaction and happiness, she mused quietly as she walked toward the property boundary.
The SEALS of Shadow Company had taught her what to look for when tracking a target. Meagan examined the soft ground. Moist impressions in the dark earth varied in distinction. Some were heavier than others, and tracks leading to and from the area weren’t much help. “Too much foot traffic back here,” she mused. About to give up, she was startled when a motorcycle revved its motor. A shiver of relief flushed her face with surprise at discovering Dorran heading toward her through the trees. “Fancy meeting you here,” she quipped. “What are you doing anyway?” A logical question she decided. His answer startled her.
“I was looking for you, Meagan Christiana.” The grin of pure pleasure rimmed his rugged face in warmth, giving him a much younger appearance. “Can I give you a lift back?” His muscled forearms covered in leather revved the bike’s motor for affect.
His chin was stubbled this morning. The creases in his face when he smiled gave him comfortably worn appeal. She noted his leather chaps and jacket. Biker gear, she mused. A free spirit. Glancing down at the magnificent machine idling beneath his legs, she hesitated. “I can walk. Thanks anyway.” Her voice sounded strange to her ears. Gone was the easy confidence she strived to maintain in the face of a new situation. Unable to resist her curiosity, she added, “Why were you looking for me?”
The grin he shot her bordered on the wicked. “I wanted to let you know what the results were from the DNA I found last night at the Latimars.” Dorran leaned on the handlebars of his Harley and watched her.
It was as if he could see into her thoughts. Impossible, her brain chided. Irritated by her lack of self-control, Meagan took a couple of steps in retreat. “You didn’t have to come all the way into town to tell me. Besides, Pilot already told me the DNA on the butt matched what is on record for the Sultan.” A smile flitted around her mouth.
“I should have known. Pilot would beat me to it.” Dorran relaxed back in the seat, giving her a decent view of his muscled chest under the tight tee he wore. “He’s a good friend to have though. He cares about you.”
Meagan lifted her chin. Dorran’s expression did not mimic his words. “Yes, he is a good friend. One of several I am fortunate enough to have. I’m sorry, but my lunch break is almost over. If there’s nothing else, I need to get back.”
“Sure. No problem. I’ll let you know if I turn up anything else. Good seeing you again.”
She glanced back. Dorran straddled the bike, his gloved hands resting ideally on the thighs of his leather chaps. Those strong arms tensed in repose stirred something inside Meagan. A fleeting second passed as she wondered what they would feel like around her. “Good seeing you too.”
Unnerved by the fact she sensed him watching her walk back to the shelter, she forced the concern down and made it back in the nick of time.
Sue stood in the doorway to the office with a clipboard in her hand. “Got another intake. Can you handle it?”
“Sure,” Meagan said with more confidence than she felt. Glancing at the dog catcher, she firmed her mouth. Their relationship had been strained by losing the dog the day before. He glanced at her without saying a word. She knew he was not happy with her abilities at the moment.
“Here.” He thrust a leash in her hand and motioned her to step aside as he wrangled the dog out of the cage. “This one’s not happy.”
Straightening her shoulders, Meagan stepped up to greet the shaggy mutt. “What’s your name?” she asked the animal.
The dog catcher chimed in, “His name is Rufus.”
The hound looked worn out yet jittery like he could bolt at any moment. “Hey, Rufus. You’re a big guy.” Giving the dog a good scratch behind the ears, she slipped the leash around the dog’s neck from behind. Having learned early on not to startle a scarred dog, she managed to connect the collar without incident. “Good boy. Come on. Let’s go get you set up.”
The hound resisted at first, but with a little help from a treat under his nose, Rufus soon decided walking with her beat missing out on the bacon flavored nugget. “You’ll be next to Sadie. She’s a pitty with some cur mixed in for good measure.” Glancing down at the straggly coat of the saddle-backed hound, she smiled inwardly. “A good-looking fella like yourself should have no problem finding your owner or being adopted. Probably lost in the woods, weren’t you, Rufus?” In her mind, Meagan marked off the tasks involved in getting the dog ready to become a tenant of the facility. “First we’ll get you a dip and a bath. Next, we’ll test you for heart worms and give you something for other worms. Finally, I’ll give you a shot for all the diseases you don’t want, and we don’t want you to share with the others.”
The dog catcher came up from behind. “You got this?”
“Yeah, I do.” Meagan looked up at the man’s expression of gruff doubt and wondered. Did he always react negatively to a mistake? Because that’s exactly what yesterday’s mishap with the wolfdog had been. A simple mistake.
“Just so you know, he’s a stray. Don’t go getting all mushy over him. The mutt has either got an owner or a needle in his future.” The sour smirk settled comfortably in the man’s greasy expression.
“I understand.” No use arguing with him, Meagan mused. He was not here for the dogs anymore. Her money was on his job being simply that – a payday.
Rising, Meagan squared her shoulders a
nd met his gaze with a level measure of determination. “If you’ll excuse me, this one needs a bath.” Sidestepping him, she took the hound firmly by the lead and headed for the tub. His laughter filtered back to her over the dogs barking all around her.
Chapter 8
Over the bath for the new arrival, Meagan let her mind wander. Her birthday was coming up soon. Turning twenty-one was a big deal to most girls, Meagan supposed. To her, it was more like another day. She wished the timing was better though. She currently didn’t have a boyfriend. “Just as well,” she mused aloud. “I didn’t have any plans anyway.” A loner with a guarded sense of socializing, Meagan skirted the frenzy that most of the girls in Cheniere Station subscribed to as young women. She saw all the fuss about clothes, hair, and makeup as trivial. Then there was the need to be involved in a totally silly ritualistic pattern of dates, dating, and men. What was the point? Her soul was old, she decided. “I don’t need all the drama.” Glancing at the clock above the entrance to the shelter, she smiled. At least I get to take Rufus to Aubrie’s with me after work. The idea of fostering the hound gave her a sense of purpose. “So what if I don’t have a date for my birthday when it rolls around, I’ll have Rufus, and that’s enough.”
The dog’s bath finished, wormers given, and Parvo shot administered, Meagan settled Rufus in his run. Prepared to finish up her paperwork and check out early, Meagan paused when she heard a now familiar sound. The sound of a motorcycle pulling into the shelter parking lot gave her a moment’s pause. A fleeting second passed as she wondered if Dorran had returned. The sound of boots on gravel herald someone coming toward the doorway. Focusing on the walkway past the board fence, she braced for him to appear in the west facing entrance. Lifting a hand, she scolded her addled mind when she realized she held her breath. “Idiot,” she mumbled.
A setting sun shown in her eyes. The shadow which appeared in silhouette stood over six feet Meagan estimated. Long muscled legs filled out the leather pants perfectly. “Geez,” she breathed, where was her brain? With long strides, the man covered the distance using an innate swagger that made her heart stutter. Meagan waited half a beat as he stopped inside the door frame. Strong never looked so good.
“Well hello again, Meagan Christiana.” Dorran stood with his feet planted wide as he shrugged out of his leather jacket.
Meagan’s mouth went dry. Irritation rippled through her system. He was just a man. She chided her weak knees. Certain he would notice them knocking together, she stood and shoved her damp palms down the front of her jeans. Her dark hair stuck out precariously from a ponytail she’d long since forgotten about. “Hi,” she managed.
“I dropped by because first, I have some more information about your trespasser and second, I wanted to see if you needed a ride after work?”
Meagan nodded mechanically. His mouth, that scrumptious mouth moved, but she didn’t hear a word. “Ah, I’m sorry. The collective barking in here is a little loud.” Taking a couple of steps toward him, she tried again. “What did you say now?”
His eyes, the deep color of an enchanted pool, one aqua and one sapphire held a measure of humor. “I said I have some more intel on last night’s trespasser. Can I give you a ride and tell you what I found?”
Meagan glanced back at the barking dogs behind the fences before meeting his gaze once more. “I can’t,” she admitted. “I have a foster I’m taking with me tonight to look after. I’ll need the truck - despicable as it is.” A quick grin caught at the corner of her mouth. She hoped he understood.
“Ah, a foster. I see, sure, no problem.” He glanced back at his bike parked next to the ancient truck. “Well, how about I follow you back to the Latimars’ place?”
“Great, I mean, sure. That sounds like a plan.”
“Deal. Hey, what if I spring for pizza – Johnny’s?” He slid the dark leather jacket back on and followed her to Rufus’ run. “What do you like on your pizza?”
Meagan didn’t know quite what to make of his gesture but nodded. The dogs nearby started to respond to her until they saw Dorran. “You pick. I like everything.”
“Seriously? Okay, then Canadian Bacon and double cheese it is.” The dazzling grin was back with a vengeance. He helped her get Rufus out and held his collar while she harnessed him. The other animals gave them a wide berth as they left. Meagan wondered at the effect Dorran had on them but played off their peculiar behavior as insecurity due in no small part to their present digs. Meeting numerous strangers on a daily basis proved hard on dogs. Wondering about her own excuse for the nerves, she left with the dog leading the way.
“Looks like he’s a pure bred.”
She glanced down at Rufus before cutting her eyes toward Dorran. “You know dogs?”
“Yeah, back in the day we raised Walker hounds on my grandad’s farm in Donegal.”
The slight smile Dorran gave her worked. Her defenses were quickly crumbling against his genuine style. “Donegal, Ireland?”
“That’s right. You ever been?” His eyes skimmed over her face before he opened the truck’s door and scooped Rufus up and inside.
Suddenly without words, Meagan shook her head. The man’s past held happy memories. She wished her past had not been tainted by the evil one. “No, I’ve always wanted to go though. My grandparents were from Ireland. They died before I was born.”
His hand reached out.
Meagan flinched.
“I’m sorry. Comfort is usually a physical reaction for me. No harm.”
“Sorry, too many boogie men in my life I guess.” Hating the quick, brittle laugh, she got in the truck. “Okay, so, I’ll see you at the house. Right?” For an instant she paused when she got an image of him balancing a pizza like a waiter in one hand and driving the Harley with the other. “How are you going to carry the pizza on your bike. Glancing at his Harley, she grinned. “Your saddle bags don’t look big enough of a pizza.”
“Roger that.” His expression held a kind of aura. “I called in the order and paid for the pizza already.” Shrugging at her narrowed eyes, he added, “I was hungry.” He said it flatly and without guilt. “Would you mind swinging by and picking it up? I’ll stop and get some brews.”
The laugh surprised her as she started the engine. “So it wasn’t that I would say yes?”
He did not answer, but his grin widened.
She busied her shaky hands with buckling the seatbelt. “You are either very confident in your skills or super hungry. I would say the reason is the latter.” Unable to resist a smile, she shifted into reverse and left him standing, hands habitually in his pockets, and one leather clad leg cocked to the side. “Damn.” Breathing out the one word which best described him, she watched his figure disappear from her rearview mirror in the dust of the dirt road. “It’s just to discuss his intel. That’s all.” Her muddled mind wasn’t buying the excuse.
***
Meagan made it home in what she considered record time and stashed the pizza in the oven. Hoping she had time to feed Traveler before Dorran arrived, Meagan sped through her chores in record time. Shoving back wayward dark strands, she wished for a bath. “I must smell like dogs,” she grumbled. “A bird bath maybe.” Racing for the house, she didn’t slow until she was stripped and running water for a sponge off. No sense in offending strangers, she mused. Her reflection in the mirror showed a slim girl of twenty with slender curves and perky breasts. Those long limbs were a gift from her mother. The dark brown, almost black hair atop her head was her father’s. She told herself she had gotten over their deaths and was ready to move forward. Still, their images came to her at the oddest times and sometimes the thoughts made her sad. Shaking free of the downer image, she splashed water on her face and dried with a hand towel.
Clothes were an issue when you were not comfortable in your own skin. Meagan stood inside her closet for a good three minutes before deciding on something house comfortable – cutoffs and a Panama Jack t-shirt Aubrie had given her. Unable to bring herself to wear the sk
inny strapped red halter top, Meagan dabbed on some lipstick before walking away from the mirror.
“It’s just pizza and intel,” she repeated. Her family, or Shadow Company as they were called, was made up of those people who had saved her and her folks during the time of the Sultan’s reign, or the tragedy as she liked to refer to the war. With him behind bars, the world became a place of futures and possibilities. She grew and learned of her real potential as a human. Her parents had dabbled in the magic arts, and with the help of Aubrie and Logan, she learned so much more about the supernatural world. Was she ready for the days to come? When that bastard, the Sultan showed his face? Meagan hoped so because evil always found a way to exist.
Glancing at the full-length mirror attached to the inside of her closet door, Meagan took an accessing examination of the woman standing there. She would soon be twenty-one and legal as Duke Taylor, Logan’s best bud had told her recently. “You can get drunk now.” The memory was fresh in her mind’s eye. Loveable Duke, he was the solo mortal of the ex-SEALS that made up Shadow Company.
Her smirk came with the idea of ‘lettin’ loose’ as Duke liked to put it. The truth was she needed a distraction. Something to keep her mind busy and her hands occupied. “That’s the reason for the volunteering, you idiot.” Her reflection agreed. “I could use a beer,” she decided and turned for the kitchen.
***
Dorran needed this. Tonight with Meagan would be a friendly sit down to discuss his findings and share a pizza. The clerk took his money and handed over the box. With a quick check of the contents, he mentally marked off the stop from his list. Next came wine. If memory served him correctly, she liked a cabernet, or maybe that was just what was left from her last party. Somehow he didn’t think she was much of a party girl – more reserved and a bit of a homebody. It fit, the fact that she had a few fucked-up years made for an awkward social life – he should know. So he was taking a chance, and it was merely a friendly visit he reminded his sexual stimulation. No going there, bro.
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