by Vella Munn
Unlike most dogs, the three hadn’t gotten excited while Joe prepared their food but had patiently waited before eating slowly and deliberately. When Joe stroked the top of their necks, they’d accepted more than enjoyed the attention, at least that’s how she’d initially seen it.
Then, because she was trying to make up for too much where Joe was concerned, she’d rubbed Smoke behind her ears. Smoke had stood her ground, and Rachelle had been left with the impression that the female was taking her measure. Like her, Smoke hadn’t yet made up her mind.
Certainly the three understood Joe’s place in their world. Maybe they also understood a lonely man’s need for human companionship. Maybe they sensed how much she loved their owner.
“It’s crazy to even think they killed those men as part of some vendetta. Dogs don’t do things like that.”
“No, dogs don’t.”
“The dead men were horrible to their animals. In some respects they got what they deserved.”
“Yes, they did.”
Leaning forward, Joe rested his head in his hands. He wasn’t as substantial as he’d been when they’d lived together, either that or her memory was going down its own road.
“Joe, we don’t know enough to—”
“You used to call me Dad.”
Sick at heart, she wrapped her arms around her middle. “I know.”
“I’m sorry,” he said after a moment. “I shouldn’t have said that.”
“It’s all right.” She realized she’d spilled some water. Looking at her damp slacks, she nearly laughed at the unimportant things that had been on her mind as she’d gotten dressed this morning.
“They’ll come home,” she said unnecessarily. Unless Nate or the police spot them and shoot them. Was that part of why law enforcement was withholding information? They didn’t want people with weapons going after any and all loose dogs? “I have a meeting with the principal at five, but I’ll be back. We’ll talk, try to figure out—I don’t know what I’m saying.”
“Neither do I.”
She met his somber gaze. “How does anyone face a nightmare?”
“I don’t know, hon. I don’t know.”
Her throat closed down at the word ‘hon’. She didn’t dare tell him how much hearing it from him affected her.
“There’s something that, maybe, is on our side,” she said.
“Our? This isn’t your problem.”
“Yes it is. No way are you going through it alone, got it? Do you remember what he said about hoping it isn’t your dogs?”
“Yes.”
“Why do you think that is? He’s an animal control officer doing his job. It isn’t as if the two of you are old buddies.”
Joe slowly shook his head. “His dad and I both served in Nam.”
Vietnam, where Joe had spent a year of his life as a prisoner of war. “Was Nate’s father…?”
“No, but he played a role in Operation Homecoming. Nate’s last name sounded familiar, which is how he and I made the connection.”
Joe hadn’t told her much about his war experiences, not that as a child she would have been able to put what he’d endured into perspective. Since then she’d done enough research to begin to understand how horrible being a POW had been, which made her wonder how much he’d revealed to Nate.
“Nate’s father died a couple of years ago,” Joe said. “Cancer. He needed to talk.”
“You’re a good listener, better than at talking.”
The right corner of his mouth lifted. “I know.”
The ensuing silence wasn’t particularly awkward, but it held the potential to become so. Besides, much as she wished it could be, today wasn’t about pulling Joe out of the past. “This is going to sound crazy, but when we were outside I had the feeling I was being watched.”
He narrowed his gaze. “You were. At least one of the grays is out there.”
She shivered. “Did you see it?”
“No.”
“Then how—”
“I’ve always known things like that about them. We’re connected.”
“Why didn’t it come to you?”
“Because of him. And you.”
“You aren’t making sense.”
“Yes, I am. Hon, their eyes had just opened when I found them. I know what they think and feel. It goes both ways.”
Is that possible? “What about what Nate is accusing them of? Are they capable of such savagery?”
“Don’t talk like that.”
* * * *
The seven-mile drive back to Oak Cove High School did nothing to clear Rachelle’s thoughts. From what little she’d learned about the county, she figured Duggar Road, where the killings had taken place, was about three miles from the school. She tried to catch some news on the radio but couldn’t find anything.
Logic had always been her strength, at least when it came to book smarts. Somewhere in all this was a plan of action, she just needed to determine what it was.
One thing, she had to get Nate to tell her more about what the police had found at the crime scene. The man dealt with vicious dogs all the time. They probably had a list of every dog in the county that had bitten someone. Why wasn’t he going after them? Just because Joe’s were big and allowed to run loose—
Stop it! Remember what Nate said about the grays not being his only suspects.
Could Joe be held responsible? Arrested, convicted, imprisoned, maybe for the rest of his life?
A sudden jerk to the right snapped her out of her thoughts. Correcting with a pull to the left, she thanked whoever took care of fools and the distracted for preventing her from winding up in the ditch. Back when she’d first called Oak Cove home, the high school had been in an older part of town with no room for expansion. As she understood it, a bond measure had been passed several years ago making it possible for this new school to be built just outside the city limits on land the district had long owned.
She’d been so desperate and determined to nail her interview—her previous teaching position in California had been a casualty of funding cutbacks—that she’d barely noticed the modern complex. She wasn’t sure whether her positive letters of recommendation or her math strengths had gotten her the job. What had mattered was she wouldn’t be reduced to flipping burgers trying to pay off her student loans. As for the question of whether she was in the right career—the question that had started surfacing almost before she graduated—well, she’d put that on the back burner for as long as she could.
Students, particularly those old enough to drive, complained that the school was too far from town, but she liked the self-contained campus. The setting was lovely thanks to cattle pastureland to the south and hills to the north and east. The extensive pasture with its barbed wire fence wasn’t as picturesque as the white-painted wooden fencing the race horses of her childish dreams would have enjoyed, but it beat high-rises and fast food restaurants.
As she drove behind the gym to the teachers’ parking area, her attention was again drawn to where a local rancher kept his beef cattle. There weren’t any in sight. Even with everything she had on her mind, disappointment tugged at her. A number of calves had been born recently. That was what she needed to look at for the few moments she had before her meeting, a bunch of awkward and energetic four-legged youngsters.
Stopping, she wondered if she’d spotted a deer in the shadows. According to one of the special education teachers, the rancher’s water troughs and salt licks drew deer, particularly this time of year because most of the seasonal creeks had dried up.
Rumor was the rancher had tried to convince Fish and Game to let him shoot some of the deer he insisted were robbing his cattle of food. Fortunately, his request had been turned down. Several teachers had made a study of deer behavior and were positive they could identify individuals. This time of year the fawns had lost or were losing their spots. It was too early for hunting season or rut.
Was hunting allowed around here? Close as the land was to the sc
hool she’d be surprised if it was. Yet something else she needed to learn about the area.
The area. Oakwood County. Home base. Ties to her childhood. The only place she’d been drawn to when her first teaching job had been pulled out from under her and her engagement had imploded.
A calf with a white face and rich, reddish hair topped a rise and headed toward the foothills. Its ears were in constant motion, and it held its head high as if trying to see as much as possible. Concerned because she didn’t think something that young should be away from its mother, she turned off the engine and got out. The breeze wasn’t as strong as it had been at Joe’s place and some of the clouds had dissipated. As a consequence, the heat made an impact. Fall couldn’t come soon enough for her.
She shouldn’t be doing this. She was expected in less than five minutes. However, in the wake of what had happened today, she had to make sure things went right for the little one.
“Where’s your mama?” she asked as she started for the fence. “Hey, cutie, you’re going to get into trouble if you don’t get back where you belong.”
The calf had jumped at the sound of her voice then, turned its attention and legs back to whatever had initially interested it. Having gone to her share of football games, she concluded that the space of a football field stood between her and the calf. From this distance she could be mistaken about how young it was. One thing she did know, if it kept going the way it was, it would soon reach the wooded hills.
“Hey, are you listening to me? I swear, you’re going to get detention if you don’t do as I tell you.”
Now that she was off pavement and on the dry wild grasses and weeds where eventually, maybe, another building would be erected, she felt isolated. The pasture was hilly enough that the rest of the herd was probably in one of the depressions where she couldn’t see them. Crawling under the bottom barbwire strand and trying to herd the calf back the way it had come from wasn’t the best idea she’d had today. At least it wasn’t the worst. Confronting Nate Chee had been.
Stopping, the calf lowered its head and bounced backward. She was no expert in cow body language but surmised the calf was more alarmed than cautious.
Rachelle tried to determine what held the little one’s attention. The hills were a mix of treed and open areas. As a consequence, it took her a moment to spot the dog in the shade.
Not just any dog.
Oversized and gray.
One of Joe’s?
Her mouth dried and her heart rate accelerated. She grabbed the top strand. A barb dug into her palm. Letting go, she tried to make sense of what was happening. The massive gray beast started walking slowly and gracefully toward the calf. Much as she wanted to, she couldn’t convince herself that the calf would be safe as long as it stayed in the open.
Her still-stinging hand now at her throat, she tried to decide what to do. Beyond all reason, the calf was again moving forward. It was as if the dog had some kind of mind control over the innocent baby. A killer luring the calf to its death?
“No!” Calling herself three kinds of a fool, she ran along the fence. The calf was still at a distance from her and angling away, but at least they were traveling in roughly the same direction.
Stopping again, the calf bawled.
“That’s right. Call for your mama. Go back to her. You’re in trouble, don’t you get it, trouble!”
To her horror, the calf once more resumed what might be its death march. It occasionally bawled. The darn dumb little thing appeared so playful, cheerful, as if it had just spotted its best friend.
In contrast, the great gray had stopped and now stood on wide-spread legs, its tail unmoving and gaze locked on what might be its next meal.
“Get out of here!” she yelled. Were its siblings around? “You’ve done enough damage!”
Her voice sounded high and too close to hysterical. Praying someone had heard her, she dropped to her hands and knees and shimmied under the fence. Her cell phone was in her right front pocket, but if she called nine-one-one, the police would come with their weapons and blow one of Joe’s beloved dogs away.
Besides, by then it would be too late for the calf.
Dirt clung to her slacks. More stained her hands. The word insane echoed inside her head. Trying to ignore the taunt, she ran as best she could considering the pitted ground. Cow patties lay like landmines in the short grass. She managed to avoid several, then stepped squarely in the middle of one. Damp goo squished over her low heels.
Beyond cursing, she looked up. The calf had stopped its determined and demented march. It showed no sign of being aware of her. Not wanting to, she turned her attention to the too-big dog.
At least it wasn’t moving her way yet.
When Joe had introduced her to his pets, he’d pointed out that Smoke, the female, was several inches taller than the males, but from this distance, Rachelle couldn’t determine which it was, not that it mattered.
One hand went to her throat. The other clutched her middle. Weighing around one hundred twenty pounds at five foot four had held her in good stead when it came to fitting into society. Now she wished she had more heft and height.
And a weapon.
The gray’s stride reminded her of one of her students, the gymnast and track star who had incredible body control. The single overriding difference between the two was that Amber didn’t have fangs and wasn’t a predator.
“Don’t.” Thinking she had to do something to try to intimidate the gray, she raised her arms over her head and shook them. “Go! Get out of here.”
Lifting the corner of its mouth in either a snarl or a smile, the dog turned fully toward her.
Chest too broad. Pit bull-wide but much, much taller. Muscles rippling. Long, strong legs.
When she’d met Joe’s trio, she’d been so overwhelmed by their grace and height she’d been unable to focus on the details. Now she took note of the oversized paws, a chest even deeper than it was wide, thick powerful neck, upright ears that were black at the tips. If she’d been in charge of creating the perfect fighting dog, this was what she’d come up with.
But what truly shook her was the creature’s expression.
The intelligence.
What was it Joe had said, that he understood the dogs and they understood him? This afternoon the big gray held the upper hand. She didn’t know what it was thinking, just that it was.
A series of rapid-fire bawlings startled her. Out of the corner of her eye she spotted a reddish and white cow lumbering her way. The cow’s head was extended and its mouth open as pitiful, angry sounds erupted from her. Despite the stubby legs and bulky body, the cow moved with impressive speed. Bleating, the calf zigzagged toward what Rachelle took to be its mother.
Dismissing the reunion, she turned her attention back to the gray. To her relief, it had stopped walking, making her wonder if it was deliberately trying not to frighten her any more than she already was. Yeah, right. Fists clenched, she forced herself to take in even more details. Heavy balls hung between the dog’s hind legs.
Why didn’t you do something about that, Joe? Take the aggression out of the males?
Gun or Stone, not that it mattered. Considering the male’s motionless and confident stance, the names struck her as perfect. Even as puppies, had Joe known how they’d turn out? That they might kill?
If he had, why had he let them live?
No, wrong! Joe’s pets couldn’t be killers.
Could they?
“What do you want?” her voice squeaked.
The dog tilted his head. Dark lips slipped over perfect white teeth. With his fangs covered he seemed less hostile.
“What are you doing here? Were you looking for me?”
The head tipped in the opposite direction.
“What did you do to the calf to make it not afraid?”
No answer, not that she expected one and yet—
The dog started toward her. His floating gait awed her, and her heart stopped hammering. Her awareness o
f the heat and her surroundings slipped into a far corner of her mind. Behind her a large vehicle rumbled.
Pain in her right ankle made her pause. She must have started walking toward the dog and had stepped into a hole. Barely thinking, she waited until the pain subsided. Then, trusting what was either instinct or insanity, she again approached the dog. The two of them moved with singleness of purpose, two strangers intent on becoming more. If someone asked who she was and what she was doing here, she wasn’t sure she could answer.
Finally only some twenty feet remained between them. She stopped, not because she’d located her lost mind but because it felt like the right thing to do. The dog too stood in place on widely spaced legs, almost as if his weight was too much for him. He studied her, starting with her probably ruined shoes and slowly moving up her body. She wondered whether he’d approve of what he found.
Something loosened inside her, so she felt disjointed and mindless. It wouldn’t surprise her if she started to levitate. Flying didn’t seem an impossibility. The day had become perfect, with the breeze a soft, comforting presence and just enough heat that she could stay outside forever.
She wanted to run her hands over the big male’s coat, wanted to see whether the fur was bristly or soft, needed to feel his breath on her face. To be licked.
The dog shifted his attention to something behind her, so she did the same. Two busses were coming up the drive. They were dusty and, from what she could tell, empty except for the drivers. Having never driven a bus, she could only imagine how unwieldy the things were. Maybe she should—
The dog.
Not comprehending her loss of concentration, she focused on the only thing that should matter today. Muscles working in harmony, the male turned around and started back the way he’d come. Lonely and relieved at the same time, she watched until she could no longer see him.
Several minutes later she reached for her cell phone. Instead of calling the number Nate had given her, she simply stared at the instrument. Call, a part of her mind insisted. He needs to know.
