Season of Mercy: The Sled Dog Series, Book 4

by Melissa Storm

“I love your dress and your hair and your lipstick,” Preeti gushed as she ran her hands across the fabric on Sofia’s sleeves and then dug her fingers into her hair. “I should have you give me a makeover,” she concluded with a smile that didn’t seem entirely genuine. Still, at least she was making an effort to be nice. Most of the others—including Blinky—had decided to largely ignore her after she vetoed their ambush matchmaking.

  Sofia tried to picture herself doing girl things with Preeti. Other than their mutual acquaintance of Blinky, they seemed to have little in common, but Sofia rarely felt like she could relate to new people, so maybe she was already being too hard on the girl.

  She smiled, hoping her gesture would appear more authentic than Preeti’s. She hated being fake, but she hated being mean, too. “I could, if that’s what you want,” she offered. “I actually design my own clothes. I could make something for you, too.”

  Preeti waved Sofia’s suggestion off. “Nah, that sounds way too expensive. I’ll figure something else out.”

  But what? Sofia wondered darkly.

  After all, she already knew Blinky shoplifted, and that D-Man dealt drugs. Did everyone in the group regularly engage in some kind of crime? And if so, what was Preeti’s? Sofia wanted to ask her, but that hardly felt like small talk.

  After playing two rounds on the winning team and two rounds for the losing team, Sofia decided to call it a night. Everyone else was already pretty intoxicated and she felt like the odd one out staying sober.

  D-Man saddled her with a hug, squeezing her tight. “I hope to see you again. Give us a chance. We’re not so bad.”

  “I believe you,” Sofia wheezed, then laughed when he finally let her go. “I’m sure I’ll be seeing you soon.”

  She punched her number into D-Man’s and Preeti’s phones before heading out into the pouring rain. She half expected to find Hunter waiting for her under the awning, but she remained blissfully alone in the half empty parking lot.

  By the time she reached the safety of her car, Sofia’s gorgeous new dress had soaked through to its very core. She shivered and sent up a prayer that the car’s antiquated heater would do its job just a little bit faster.

  Although the wipers swished back and forth at the highest setting, she could barely see the road before her as she pulled away from Miners Pub. It was by pure luck she noticed the fat Chow Chow pacing the fence not two blocks from the neighborhood where she had first found Wolfie. The rain let up for a brief moment, but still, it was long enough for Sofia to make an important decision.

  Knowing it was a risk, she pulled up to the curb just outside of the house, determined to make another quick rescue. This dog needed someone to save it—and since nobody else was around, that job just fell to Sofia.

  She rushed through the rain to open the back door of her car, then unlatched the gate and called to the drenched dog.

  And the Chow Chow knew just want to do. She raced from her yard and hopped straight into Sofia’s car with a joyous bark.

  “Good dog,” Sofia muttered as she slammed the door behind her, then peeled away as fast as the rain would allow.

  And just like that, she had acquired a second dog in less than a week’s time.

  Wolfie had needed her help, and this dog had, too. Rain had been pounding down from the Anchorage sky all evening. Who would leave their dog out in such a horrible storm? Not anyone who deserved the privilege of caring for such a magnificent creature.

  Sofia placed one hand in front of the heater in her dashboard, then the other.

  “Your face is smushed in, but you kind of look like a fox,” she told the Chow Chow while waiting for the stoplight to turn. “I’ll call you Foxie.”

  Foxie answered by giving her coat a good shake and sending water droplets shooting in every direction. The moment she finished, she climbed over the hump and into the front seat with Sofia.

  “Well, aren’t you a lovey thing,” she said with a laugh as Foxie licked her in the face.

  And this time she didn’t even feel guilty about doing what had needed to be done.

  Sofia found she didn’t even need a leash for Foxie. The bedraggled orange dog followed her right into the house with minimal prompting on her part.

  Even before she opened the door to her apartment, she heard Wolfie’s boisterous barking on the other side. He had missed her that night, which made her feel guilty, but at least she’d brought him a new friend so that he wouldn’t be so lonely the next time she had to leave.

  The Chow pushed through the door before Sofia could even finish opening it all the way, and when Wolfie came running over to say hello, Foxie bared her teeth, which sent him skittering beneath the table.

  “Hey, hey, none of that,” Sofia warned, leaving the dogs briefly to fetch an old beach towel from the linen closet. When she returned, she found Foxie with her head under the table and both dogs growling.

  “Stop, stop! No fighting!” she cried.

  The sound of her raised voice made Wolfie pee—because apparently an angry human was infinitely scarier than an attacking dog.

  Foxie let out one more warning woof, then extracted herself from beneath the table and licked Sofia’s arm as if to officially stake her claim over their resident caretaker.

  “Maybe this isn’t going to work quite as well as I thought,” Sofia mumbled while wicking moisture from the Chow Chow’s coat.

  Wolfie whined from his spot under the table, and Foxie jerked loose from Sofia’s grasp to dive in after him. The chairs fell back like the opening of a Venus fly trap, the two big dogs tangled in battle at the center.

  “Stop! Stop! Stop!” Sofia could barely hear her own cries as the dogs’ growling graduated to full-on snarling.

  Wolfie let out a sharp yelp of pain, but Sofia couldn’t see what had happened in their arena beneath the dining room table. She desperately wished she could stop the fight but didn’t know how to without risking getting accidentally bitten herself.

  Somehow she needed to lure them out and get them separated. Only one idea sprung to mind—hopefully it would work.

  After charging into the kitchen, Sofia grabbed a Styrofoam container of leftover kung pao chicken and opened it as quick as her shaking fingers would allow.

  “Want some?” she called to the dogs as pulled out a big hunk of meat and held it high in the air.

  Immediately Foxie came trotting over as if nothing at all had happened and plopped down before front of her.

  Wolfie bolted out from beneath the table with his head kept low and his ears lying flat against his head. Foxie’s attention, however, remained fixed on Sofia and the leftover Chinese food. She waved her left paw, cocked her head to the side, then waved her right. This begging display would have been adorable if not for the fight that had preceded it.

  “Stay,” she told the Chow while she picked the pieces of chicken out from the container and dropped them onto a paper plate. Once she was certain there were no onions in the mix, she set the plate before Foxie and went to find Wolfie.

  The larger dog sat waiting by her bedroom door, shaking fiercely and unwilling to make eye contact with her as she approached. As soon as she opened the door, he slipped into the dark room. She hated this, but at least Wolfie would be safe in there until she figured out a plan for Foxie.

  Sofia definitely couldn’t leave them together all day while she was at work tomorrow, but she couldn’t exactly take Foxie back to the yard where she’d stolen her. She traced her way back to the kitchen where Foxie sat whining, the plate of food untouched.

  “Umm, you can eat it now,” she commanded.

  Foxie shook and whined but didn’t make a move for the food.

  “Go ahead and eat.”

  Still nothing, so she used the edge of her foot to push the plate closer to Foxie. The dog still didn’t budge.

  “Okay, I—”

  Foxie snapped to her feet and pushed her face into the food, consuming it so fast she had to gasp for air. Weird.

  Sofia wat
ched as the Chow inhaled every morsel on the plate, licked it clean, and then began to eat the plate as well. As she wrestled the trash away, her phone dinged in her pocket with a Facebook notification. Sofia didn’t keep many friends on social media. She mostly used it to share her designs and discuss techniques in her favorite frugal fashionista groups.

  “Let go,” she grunted, but Foxie had decided the battle for the plate was a fun game and clamped down harder.

  “Foxie, no. Let go. Drop it.”

  On the last command, Foxie unclamped her jaw and let Sofia take control of the plate, which she promptly took to the trash.

  Her phone dinged again.

  “It’s National Puppy Day!” Elizabeth Jane had posted, and already several comments had poured in.

  “Here’s Samson as a puppy and Samson now. Tagging all my dog-loving friends so they can share too!” The status was attached to a pair of photos showcasing Liz’s giant dappled Akita—in her arms as a puppy and in her fiancé Dorian’s arms now. She’d tagged at least forty people in her update, and Sofia was one of them.

  Sofia would definitely not be sharing a photo of her ill-gotten dogs, but she could come to Elizabeth Jane for help. After all, Liz had an entire ranch at her disposal. She could easily give Foxie a home or at least a safe place until Sofia figured out a better solution.

  She called the Chow over and snapped a picture of her, then texted it to her friend.

  Elizabeth Jane’s reply came immediately: Cute! Who’s that?

  Sofia took a deep breath before typing: Your new dog?

  WHAT?!

  I found her out wandering in the rain storm. She needs a home.

  Why not with you?

  Wolfie doesn’t like her.

  And you think Samson will?

  I don’t know, but she needs to go somewhere while I figure things out. Please will you take her in? Please! Please!

  Sofia watched as the three dots that meant her friend was typing appeared then disappeared then reappeared. If Liz refused to help, Sofia had no other options, other than maybe Blinky, D-Man, or one of their criminal friends. It seemed like a huge favor to ask people she’d only just met, though.

  After a few moments pause, Sofia’s phone rang.

  “You owe me,” Liz grumbled before hanging up.

  Sofia shut Foxie into her bedroom before leaving for work the next day, giving Wolfie free reign of the larger apartment.

  Although Elizabeth Jane had reluctantly agreed to take the Chow off Sofia’s hands, she’d also said she would need a few days to prepare. And no matter how much Sofia begged, Liz refused to welcome Foxie in before Wednesday evening.

  Today was only Monday.

  It would be a long, long week.

  Things weren’t helped by the fact that Sofia’s store was as empty as ever. Normally she liked having time alone with her thoughts, but today she would have welcomed a gaggle of screeching pre-teen shoppers if only for something to keep her busy.

  The hours ticked by slowly until finally someone entered her shop. Not a customer, but rather Blinky coming by to gloat during his lunch break.

  Sofia greeted him with a groan. “Don’t look at me like that.”

  “Like what?” A snide grin spread across his rough features.

  She drummed her fingers on the counter. “I don’t know. The cat that ate the canary?”

  Blinky laughed just like he always did. Could he really find everything in life this hilarious? “You, my bird,” he said, “were a hit. Everyone loved you. Especially D-Man.”

  Sofia couldn’t tell if what followed was a wink or a facial spasm, so she simply let out a sigh in response.

  Blinky ignored her hesitation. Maybe he didn’t really care. “Come out with us again this weekend. We’ll be at the Ridge.”

  “Yeah, not really my scene.” Sofia left the counter and paced to the nearest clothing rack, pretending to sort through the clothes and hoping Blinky would take the hint and leave her be.

  “On, c’mon,” he shouted, trailing after her. “Don’t be so frigid.”

  She sighed again and moved on to the next rack. “That’s really not how you talk to people when you want them to like you.”

  “Who said anything about liking me?” He crossed his arms over his chest and doubled over with laughter as he said, “You’re D-Man’s girl now.”

  “You know what, Blinky? I really think you should—”

  Thankfully, a pair of shoppers entered her store before she could finish that sentence.

  Sofia put on her sales voice and marched away from Blinky, his laughter trailing after her like a little lost puppy she just couldn’t escape. “Can I help you find anything today, ladies?”

  “You’ll be there,” he mumbled while walking past her to the exit and sidestepping the security detectors. “The Ridge. Saturday at eight. Don’t forget, and don’t make any excuses.”

  When Sofia finished helping the old women find new dresses for a friend’s retirement party, she returned to the cash register to check her phone. A text from an unknown number awaited her: Our date is tonight. Let me know when and where to pick you up.

  D-Man?

  What? Cheating on me already? This is Hunter.

  In all the excitement over Foxie, she’d somehow forgotten her deal with the charming cop. This was so not what she needed right now.

  I don’t think I can make it. Sorry, she typed then added a crying emoji.

  Nope, I already have everything planned, and I refuse to be stood up.

  This guy was never going to leave her alone. If she ignored him too long, he’d probably find her address in the police database and show up unannounced to take her on that date she’d stupidly agreed to. At least this way she’d know when he was coming and be able to keep him away from her apartment and the stolen dogs inside.

  Fine. 6:30, she typed back after a quick moment to think it over. Hoyt Street Apartments.

  Don’t sound too excited ;-)

  Do I sound excited? Oops, that was a mistake.

  Yeah, sure. Wear something you can move in. See you at 6:30!

  Sofia set her phone down and sighed. Normally she’d at least be a little excited about a mysterious date with a handsome semi-stranger. But everything in her life was so topsy-turvy these days, she honestly didn’t know which way to look.

  Just then, a middle-aged man came bustling into the store carrying a stack of papers. From the looks of his paint-splattered jeans and old concert T-shirt, he really didn’t seem the type to waste money at Sofia’s store, but something in his eyes told her he’d come for a different reason—and one she wouldn’t like.

  “Can I help you, sir?” she asked with that practiced friendly lilt that made her want to gag.

  The man slammed a bright green paper onto the counter. “Can I put up this flyer?”

  “We don’t really…” Sofia glanced down and saw Foxie staring up at her in neon color. A lump of fear formed in her throat, cutting off the rest of what she’d wanted to say.

  “Please.” The man regarded her with equal parts agitation and desperation. “That’s my Fanta. The kids named her after the soda. Cute, right? She went missing last night in the storm, and we think someone might have taken her. There’s a reward.”

  He pointed to the bottom of the flyer where the words $100 REWARD were written in capital letters and underlined three times. “It’s not a lot, but it’s all we can offer. Name’s Joe Collins. My number’s here.” He jabbed his finger back at the flyer, but Sofia kept her eyes glued to his face instead. “Will you keep an eye out for her? Call me if you see anything?”

  Sofia gulped then put on the biggest fake smile of her entire life. “Yes, of course, I will. Good luck.”

  But the man hadn’t stuck around for longer than it took to catch her nod of agreement. He’d already begun his retreat, leaving Sofia alone with her shame.

  Sofia thought about her Foxie-Fanta conundrum the rest of that afternoon. If the man with the flyers and his fa
mily truly loved their dog so much, then why had they left her out in the pouring rain?

  Had she somehow misread the situation? And if so, what could she actually do about this problem? It’s not like she could drive back over and return the dog to its yard.

  By the end of her shift, she decided to go ahead with her plan to deliver Foxie to Elizabeth Jane’s ranch Wednesday evening. If Liz saw the flyers, she could return the dog. Otherwise…well, it served the guy right for being so negligent.

  Pinpricks of both sadness and relief pierced her heart when she realized no one had come looking for Wolfie, and he’d been with Sofia for nearly a week. Even though she hadn’t figured out the right call when it came to Foxie—or rather Fanta—Sofia felt certain she had saved Wolfie’s life with her willingness to act on his behalf.

  Yes, she stood firmly on the moral high ground here…

  So then why did she still feel guilty?

  Maybe it just came with the territory. Or maybe she’d eventually stop feeling the stinging residue of shame.

  Maybe, maybe.

  She arrived home at 6:12, which left barely enough time to get the dogs outside for a bathroom break, let alone any time to change her outfit and refresh her makeup for this date with Hunter. So she’d skip the getting ready part, big deal. The absolute last thing she needed was to be caught red-handed by her new cop boyfriend.

  Luckily, this wasn’t a date. Not really. It was more of a compromise.

  They’d go on their one date, and Sofia would make certain he would not ask for another. Tonight’s outing simply needed to happen so that he would lose interest and move on. Honestly, she was surprised he hadn’t already.

  “Hurry, hurry,” she urged Fanta as the Chow walked the perimeter of the courtyard, sniffing everything but peeing on nothing. After five minutes of their jaunty little stroll, she gave up and returned Fanta to the apartment. Wolfie peed everywhere already, so it wouldn’t really be that big of a deal if Fanta had an accident inside, too.

  “Mmm, I love a woman who isn’t afraid to get down and dirty.” Hunter came right up behind her just as she was reaching down to pick up Wolfie’s doggie doo in a tiny plastic baggie.