Fire and Ice

by Susan Page Davis

  “That’s right,” Rick said. “I went inside, and Miss Holland stayed outside. She looked around the back of the building and saw the dogs in the pens.”

  “Some of them looked as though they’d been mistreated,” she said. “Not like pampered pets that had been dropped off for care while their owners were on vacation.”

  A second police car approached. Rick was glad when Glade got out and walked over to join them. “Miss Holland.” He touched the brim of his hat. “Dr. Baker, isn’t it?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Hello.” Robyn’s expression held genuine relief. “I’m so glad to see you again.”

  “I heard the call saying you’d located some stolen dogs, and I asked for the assignment.”

  “Thank you. They’re just down there.” She pointed toward the kennel and caught her breath. “Rick! Isn’t that the owner’s truck?”

  Rick jumped to her side and looked down the street. The beat-up green pickup was pulling out of the kennel’s parking lot.

  The green truck hadn’t come more than a few yards toward them when the driver hit the brakes and backed up hastily, turning around in his parking lot. With a squeal of tires, he roared off down the street in the opposite direction.

  “He saw the police cars,” Robyn wailed, but the two troopers were already in motion. Glade reached his vehicle first and took off after the kennel owner. The second officer was close behind, with his strobe lights flashing.

  Rick stood close beside her, watching. “They’ll get him. Let’s drive down to the kennel and wait there.”

  “All right.” She’d like to be closer to the dogs. They climbed into Rick’s truck, and she paused with her hand on the seatbelt’s buckle. “What if some of his buddies come to the kennel while we’re there alone?”

  Rick shrugged. “We’ll play dumb. Come on. Let’s see if any of your dogs are still there.”

  He turned the truck around and headed back to the kennel.

  Robyn hopped out and bounded toward the door. “Locked.”

  She pulled a face at him, but Rick only shrugged. “When the police bring the warrant, they’ll go in and get your dogs out. But they could be out back in the pens.”

  “That’s right. Come on.” She ran around the far side of the building and the length of the wall to where the fenced area began. The dogs inside started barking.

  Robyn scanned the enclosure with the tethered dogs. They lunged to the ends of their chains, snapping and growling at her and Rick. Only one had the noble carriage of her huskies.

  “There’s Astro.” She pointed. “At least he’s hitched up, away from the others.”

  Rick studied the large Alaskan husky. A peak of black hair stuck down into the white of Astro’s face, between his eyes. He strained at his chain and barked, lunging toward Robyn.

  “Hush, boy,” she called. “It’s okay. We’ll get you out of there soon.”

  “See any others you recognize?” Rick asked.

  Robyn shook her head, wishing she could say yes. If the others had been sold or moved to another location, the police might not be able to trace them.

  “Let’s walk around the back and take a closer look.” He held out his hand and she grasped it.

  Slowly they circled the pens together and came to the side she’d first visited that afternoon. One dog paced back and forth without seeming to notice them, though several others barked continually and another lay chewing at his paw.

  Rick exhaled shortly and shook his head. “They’re showing signs of stress all right, and some look malnourished.”

  “Sad, isn’t it?” Robyn hated to see animals neglected or in pain.

  “I’ll say. Most of them need medical care.” Rick looked toward the building. “This can’t be a legitimate kennel. I hate to say it, but I think my first instinct was probably right. It’s a front for a fighting ring.”

  Robyn cringed at the thought. It meant more dogs in danger, and many maimed and killed in the past. “I hope the police catch everyone connected to this miserable outfit.” She stood watching the dogs and praying silently.

  “They probably shut down and move to a new spot periodically and use a different kennel name each time to make it harder for the police to catch up with them.” Rick looked at his watch. “Hey, I’d better call Far North again. I should have been back over an hour ago.”

  “I’m sorry,” Robyn said. “It’s my fault.”

  “Don’t worry about it. This is more important, and I’m sure the other vet on call can handle things and explain to the patients’ owners.”

  He made the call, and Robyn considered calling her mother but decided to wait until she had more information. It would be wonderful to be able to tell her and Grandpa that they’d found Tumble.

  About ten minutes later, Glade drove into the parking lot. “We got him. He hit a parked car, but no one was hurt, and we stopped him in an intersection. We called for backup right away. They’re still untangling traffic, but I figured there were enough officers there to handle it. I wanted to make sure you knew—there are several dogs in cages in the back of that truck.”

  “Are the dogs all right?” Rick asked.

  “We think so. One of the other troopers will drive the truck back here. Maybe you’d take a look at them, Dr. Baker.”

  “Sure.”

  Glade looked at Robyn. “And you can tell us if any of them belong to you or your client.”

  “Thank you. One of Mr. Isherwood’s dogs is still chained out back of this building, in a pen with some other dogs. We couldn’t see any of my family’s dogs or Mr. Isherwood’s other one though. Will we be able to look inside the building as well?”

  “As soon as the warrant gets here.” Glade checked his watch. “That should be soon.”

  She smiled ruefully at Rick. “Again, I apologize for keeping you away from your work.”

  “It was worth it. We not only found out where your dogs went, but we stumbled on a lot of other dogs that need care.”

  “I guess I should call Mom,” Robyn said. “I hoped to know more by this time, but she’ll be worried if I don’t check in with her soon.” She took out her phone and walked a few steps away.

  Her mother answered on the second ring.

  “Hi, it’s me,” Robyn said.

  “Honey, where are you? You can’t be still with Rick.”

  “Yes, I am. He’s right here. Mom, you’ll never believe it. We found the dogs.”

  “What? All of them?”

  “Well …” She gulped, wishing for a completely positive report. What if she was wrong and none of the Holland Kennel dogs were in the building or the truck? “I haven’t had a close-up look at any of them yet, but we’ve found Astro for sure, and very likely some of the others. Maybe all of them.”

  “Where are they?”

  “Astro is chained in a pen with some other dogs behind a crummy kennel building. We’re pretty sure the others are here, too. The police are bringing a warrant to search the place, and they’ve arrested the guy who was running it.”

  “What? Slow down and tell me everything.”

  The green pickup, with the front fender on the passenger side crumpled and the headlight spilling shards, pulled in off the street.

  “Mom, I’ve got to go. They have some dogs for me to look at and see if I can identify any of ours. I’ll call you later.” She walked over to join Trooper Glade and Rick.

  Straski brought the truck to a halt in the parking lot and climbed out.

  “Ready to do a canine lineup, Miss Holland?” Glade asked.

  “I sure am.”

  They walked to the back of the truck. Rick said, “Officer, the Far North Veterinary Hospital is prepared to take some of these dogs in for medical care if you need a place.”

  “I’m sure we will,” Glade replied.

  Rick nodded. “We can take fifteen. But there are more than that out back, and another batch inside the building.”

  “Can you give me a list of other places
that might take some?” Glade asked.

  “Sure. I can recommend other veterinary practices and one or two good kennels.”

  Trooper Straski opened the back gate of the truck and called to Glade, “Want to help me lift these cages down?”

  Rick hurried to help them, and soon the first cage sat on the pavement.

  Robyn knelt beside it and peered in at the dog. “Oh, he’s scared.”

  “Do you recognize him?” Rick asked.

  She couldn’t tell for sure through the small openings in the plastic cage. “Can we open the door?”

  “We’d better get a leash first,” he said. “If these people do train them to fight, the dogs might be aggressive when they come out of the cages.”

  “I think I saw a leash in the truck cab.” Straski went to get it and returned with a red nylon leash in his hand.

  “Okay,” Rick said, taking the line. “Robyn, open the door slowly, and if he lets me, I’ll clip the line to his collar. If he has one.”

  “What if he tries to attack you?” Glade asked.

  Rick looked up into Robyn’s eyes. “If I say, ‘Shut it,’ do it fast.”

  “Got it.” Slowly she opened the cage door a couple of inches. The dog inside cowered at the back of the cage.

  Rick bent cautiously to peer inside. “It’s a white dog, smaller than Astro. Siberian husky, I think.”

  The dog let out a low whine. Robyn knelt, and he moved aside so she could look in. “Wocket!” A laugh bubbled up her throat. “That’s Pat’s other dog. He’s small, but he’s got heart and stamina.”

  “All right!” Rick grinned at her. “You can at least give your client good news today.”

  “Shall we leave him in the cage for now and look at the others?” Glade asked.

  “Good idea.” Robyn stood. “Rick, we may need to have you bring them home in your truck. We brought Mom’s car into town today.”

  “Piece of cake,” Rick said.

  Glade had his notebook out but looked up from his writing. “I don’t have a problem with you taking them in the cages if you want, Dr. Baker. You can return the cages to us when it’s convenient—within the next few days.”

  “Thanks,” Rick said. He and Straski hefted the next cage out of the truck. “This guy’s heavier.”

  The dog in the cage shifted its weight and barked.

  Hope clutched Robyn’s throat. It sounded like the deep, insistent bark she’d heard every morning for the last two years when she went out to feed the male dogs at home.

  “I think it’s Hero.”

  “Okay. Let’s play it safe and slow.” Rick bent down, ready to grab the dog when the door opened.

  Robyn couldn’t help bouncing on her toes and smiling. “Ready?”

  “Ready.”

  She cracked the door open, and the dog barked again. As soon as she saw his muzzle and ears push through the crack, she knew. “It’s him! Take it easy, boy. It’s me, so calm down.”

  Rick clipped the leash to Hero’s collar.

  She swung the door wide, edged around the cage, and dropped to her knees on the pavement. Hero catapulted into her arms and put his forepaws on her shoulders, the better to lick her face.

  Robyn laughed and hugged him. “Okay, okay.” She rubbed her face in his ruff of fur and stood. Hero jumped up on his hind feet and again rested his front paws on her shoulders.

  “Oh, yeah,” Rick said. “Somebody’s glad to see Mom.”

  “He won’t want to go back in the cage now,” Robyn said.

  Rick looked toward his truck. “I could put him in the cab of my pickup until we’re ready to leave.”

  She nodded. “We can’t let him loose, but I don’t want to stuff him back in that cage until we have to. Come on, fella.”

  Rick unlocked his truck, and she led Hero to it. He hopped into the cab readily, and she stroked his thick fur.

  “We’re only going to leave you in here for a little while. I’ll be back. And you can see us the whole time.” Reluctantly, she shut him in.

  Rick’s smile was a bit lopsided. “He’ll be okay.”

  “I know. I just hate to confine him again.”

  They went back to the confiscated truck. The two troopers had another cage ready to open. Inside was another of Robyn’s dogs, Rounder. She let him prance around her on the leash for a few minutes and then put him back in the cage.

  Only one more cage remained in the truck. Robyn gulped and eyed Rick. His troubled eyes mirrored her own dismay. They still lacked two stolen dogs, Tumble and Clipper.

  When the troopers lifted the cage out of the truck, a low, guttural snarl issued from within. Robyn caught her breath. She couldn’t imagine that noise coming from either of the two unaccounted for Holland dogs.

  “Let’s think about this,” she said.

  Rick leaned over the cage and peered into one of the slots. Snapping and growling caused him to jerk backward. “I think it’s a bulldog.”

  eleven

  “Oh, great,” said Glade.

  “An English bulldog?” Robyn asked.

  “That or a pit bull, but he looks heavy.”

  “A couple of years ago we raided a dog fight,” Glade said. “They were using bulldogs. Had a Rottweiler, too.”

  “Let’s not open the cage.” Robyn stood back, eyeing it warily.

  Rick exhaled heavily. “Well, counting Astro, we’ve found four of your six.”

  “Here comes the warrant,” said Straski. “Maybe your other two are inside.”

  “Let’s hope so.” Rick stepped closer to Robyn. “How are you doing? Are you cold?”

  “A little.” She flipped the hood of her parka up and stuck her hands in her pockets. The temperature had fallen several degrees since noon, and the sun was already falling toward the horizon.

  “You and your mom will have to drive home in the dark.”

  Robyn shrugged. “We expect that this time of year.”

  As Straski took a radio call, two officers got out of the newly arrived cruiser and handed Glade a folded paper.

  “Here’s your warrant. You want us to stay?”

  “Yes. We may need you to help us line up emergency care for several dozen mistreated dogs.” Glade opened the paper and scanned it. He nodded, refolded it, and tucked it inside his notebook. “All right, I’ve got the suspect’s keys here. Let’s see how many mutts are in the building.”

  Straski walked over to Glade. “That call was from Joel Dawes. He said to tell you that they’ve been questioning Keeler. He claims someone brought the dogs to him yesterday, and he didn’t know they were stolen. Supposedly the man said he wanted to board them for a few days until a sled race.”

  “Oh, right,” Glade said. “Then where was Keeler taking them today?”

  “No clue.” Straski grimaced. “Dawes says to check his files and see if there’s paperwork on the dogs in question. If there’s any truth to Keeler’s story, we should find the name of the person who brought them, which he’s conveniently forgotten. But if Keeler went out to Wasilla and nabbed them himself, or if he’s in it with whoever did the actual theft, we won’t find it.”

  “Right. Or else we’ll find falsified records.” Glade unlocked the front door and opened it.

  Rick and Robyn followed him and the other officers inside. Immediately a cacophony of barking erupted from the back room.

  The tall trooper walked to the doorway and the noise level increased. “There’s got to be two dozen dogs in there.” Glade had to yell to be heard over the din.

  “And that’s not counting the ones out back,” Rick said.

  Glade squared his shoulders and took a deep breath. “Suppose you start writing that list of kennels and vets for me, Dr. Baker. Straski, you make a quick survey of the records out here. The rest of us will help Miss Holland see if her other dogs are in those cages.”

  They found several leashes hanging on nails inside the room. One by one, Robyn glanced into the cages and eliminated the dogs. At last she came to one
that held an Alaskan husky, and her heart soared. “This is Clipper. He’s mine.”

  “Is it safe to let him out?” Glade asked.

  “Yes, he’ll be fine.”

  The dog emerged from his confinement yipping and wagging his tail.

  “Hush, now,” Robyn said, but her smile almost split her face. Only one more. Thank You, Lord, she prayed as she stroked Clipper’s fur. Please let us find Tumble, too.

  Fifteen minutes later they opened the last cage to reveal an Irish setter. Robyn’s stomach twisted.

  By this time, Rick had completed his calls and stood beside her. “I’m sorry,” he said softly.

  Glade frowned. “The one that’s still unaccounted for—he’s your top dog, right?”

  Robyn nodded, unable to speak past the painful lump in her throat.

  Glade riffled back through his notes. “And your most valuable. I don’t know what to tell you, Miss Holland. We’ll go through the pens out back to make sure, but I’m starting to think they got him out of here quickly.”

  One of the other officers said, “Could be they had a private buyer for him. Or maybe he was so tough looking, they took him straight to a fighting ring.”

  Robyn shuddered, and Rick slipped his arm around her. While she usually thought of herself as a self-sufficient woman, she welcomed his strength and warmth today. Knowing he truly cared about her and the dogs shored up her spirits.

  “Let’s look out back,” she said to Glade.

  Half an hour later—at almost four thirty—Robyn and Rick left with a sheaf of paperwork and five dogs. Astro, Rounder, Hero, Wocket, and Clipper rested in cages in the back of Rick’s pickup.

  As he drove directly to the restaurant where Robyn had left her car after lunch, she took out her phone and called Patrick Isherwood. “This is Robyn. I have some good news.”

  “You found the dogs. Tell me you found them.”

  She smiled. “Yes, we did. Pat, I’m so sorry this happened. But Astro and Wocket are fine. Astro has a small laceration on his front left leg, but it’s superficial. We’re in Anchorage, and a vet is going to thoroughly examine them. Then we’ll take them home. They’ll be back at Holland Kennel tonight.”

  “Bless you! I don’t know what you did to find them, but I sure do appreciate it.”