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The Replacement

Page 6

by Anne Marie Duquette


  Ginger’s furrowed forehead showed confusion. Lindsey gently caressed the top of the dog’s head.

  “Obviously no one ever taught you what to do with a wet coat. Time to learn. We don’t need melting snow all over the cabin.” Lindsey leaned down and lifted a sensitive ear, then softly blew into it. “Shake!”

  The irritating puff of air caused the desired result. The dog shook her ears, then her whole body, sending a mini-blizzard of snow flying.

  “Good girl!” she praised. “Okay, paw,” she commanded. “Let me see a paw.” One by one, Lindsey lifted the four legs, and gently pulled out any stray pieces of ice or snow that had clumped inside the dog’s pads. “Now you’re ready to go inside. Come on.” Stomping her boots one last time, Lindsey entered the cabin, mentally reminding herself to work on retraining Ginger.

  “Took you longer than I thought,” Naomi chided from her place at the table. “Breakfast is ready—and look who’s joined us.”

  Bundled up in Naomi’s over-large flannels and a blanket sat a little girl in an extra chair. Naomi had boosted her up with a couple of pillows. The child’s frostbitten toes were warmly covered with thick loose socks, and straight brown bangs partially hid her eyes, but not her nervousness.

  Lindsey sat in the chair closest to Pam, and had Ginger lie down between the chairs.

  “You like dogs?”

  The bent head lifted a bit, revealing a freckled nose, brown eyes and chapped lips. Keith and Eric joined the breakfast table, bringing to five the number of people sitting there. Lindsey noticed that Keith made a special point of sitting next to Naomi. She realized that Keith always preferred to sit near the other woman and wondered if there was a one-sided romance going on, then turned her attention to the child.

  “Would you like to make friends with Ginger?”

  The girl’s chin lifted a little higher, and her eyes flicked from the dog to Lindsey and back to the dog again.

  “She’s a very nice girl,” Lindsey went on. “She won’t bite, so don’t be afraid.”

  “I’m not afraid of dogs.” Pam’s voice was timid, but the words and emotion behind them were obviously truthful.

  “Glad to hear it.” Lindsey scooped some scrambled eggs, made from frozen egg liquid, and canned peaches onto Pam’s plate. “When you’re done eating, you can help me feed Ginger.”

  Pam nodded. Lindsey shoved the child’s fork and spoon closer. “You’re a big girl. You use a fork instead of a spoon, right?”

  Pam paused, then stabbed at a slice of peach in heavy syrup and popped it into her mouth.

  “Pretty good, huh?” Lindsey said, doing the same with her own peaches. “You like eggs?”

  Pam shook her head and speared another peach.

  “I like to do this.” Lindsey reached for the bottle of ketchup and dumped a red blob on the scrambled eggs. “It makes ’em taste just like French fries. They even look like French fries. They’re both yellow.”

  “Not the same yellow,” Pam argued. These were her first words since her rescue. Lindsey ignored the suddenly alert adults and continued her conversation in the same soft tone she used with her dogs.

  “Well, no, but they still taste like fries. Wanna try?” Lindsey scooped up some eggs and held them up. “Come on…one bite, and you can tell me if I’m right or wrong.”

  Pam opened her mouth and took the portion of egg, then chewed and swallowed.

  “Good?”

  “It doesn’t taste like fries.”

  “Well, it does to me. What do you think?”

  Pam shrugged. “It’s okay.”

  Lindsey shoved the bottle of ketchup Pam’s way. “Help yourself, honey.”

  “Mommy calls me that.” Pam tried to snap the pop-cap up, and failed. Suddenly her eyes filled with tears. “I wanna go home.” She began to cry in earnest, harsh sobs that made Naomi reach for the child, but Lindsey was there first.

  Lindsey tucked the little girl under her chin and kissed the top of her head. “Of course you’re going home! As soon as we can get you there.”

  Pam shivered. “Daddy said I couldn’t see Mommy again. I have to stay with him forever an’ ever.”

  “Well, he was wrong, wasn’t he? You’re right here with us, and we’ve already had the police tell your mother you’re safe.” Lindsey picked up her napkin and wiped the child’s cheeks and nose. “We’ll send you home as soon as possible. After you get better—and the weather does, too.”

  The child sniffled some more, and Lindsey wiped her face again and rocked her. After a few minutes, Pam settled down. Lindsey speared yet another peach and fed it to her. “Shall we put ketchup on the peaches?” she asked.

  Pam grimaced. “Not on mine.”

  “Come on, let’s try it,” Lindsey teased. “I will if you will.”

  Pam shook her head, then gasped as Lindsey dunked a peach slice into some ketchup and ate it. “Umm-umm! Tastes just like French fries!” Lindsey smacked her lips. “Your turn!”

  Pam wrinkled her nose. “Yuck!”

  “Fine. More for me. Forget the ketchup.” Lindsey moved Pam’s plate closer. “Let’s have a race and see who finishes first. On your mark, get set, go!”

  Five minutes later, all the peaches were gone, and a few minutes after that the eggs as well. Pam yawned, drank her milk, then yawned again.

  “Back to bed for you, young lady,” Naomi announced.

  Pam reluctantly allowed herself to be taken from Lindsey’s lap. She balked as Naomi began to lift her up. “I was gonna feed the dog!”

  “You can feed the dog in the bedroom,” Naomi said firmly. “I don’t want you getting chilled.”

  “Good idea,” Lindsey agreed. “You two can make friends with each other there.”

  Pam sighed with contentment as Naomi carried her away. Lindsey and Ginger followed, closing the door behind them.

  “IMPRESSIVE,” KEITH SAID, clearing the dishes as Eric studied the storm outside. “Our replacement always seems to know just the right thing to say or do. Seems to come naturally to her. I’m surprised you ever let her go.”

  Eric peered through the small window and pivoted back toward the table. “No one tells Lindsey how to do her job.”

  “I’m not talking about work. I’m talking about personally. Naomi’s dropped a few hints here and there about Lindsey.”

  “My personal life is none of your business.”

  “Look, Eric. We’ve got enough going on here without adding an ex’s angst to the list.”

  Eric restrained the sudden flash of anger coursing through him. “Don’t worry about it,” he said curtly.

  The men were silent for a moment, then Keith put down his pile of dirty dishes with a thump. “You might as well know I’ve applied for a transfer. Another winter alone with your…moods—and your sister’s—isn’t anything I’d care to repeat. If I have my way, I’ll be leaving when Lindsey does.”

  Before Eric could reply, the lights flickered, went out, then went on again, but dimly.

  “Hell, now what?” Keith said. “I’d better check the generator.”

  “I’ll go with you,” Eric said, the hair on the nape of his neck rising with a creepy premonition he’d learned never to ignore.

  “Pass.”

  “I said I’ll go with you,” Eric repeated. He reached for his ranger-issued rifle. “Naomi—Keith and I are going out to check on the generator!” he called out. “Be back in twenty minutes!”

  NAOMI LOOKED AT HER WATCH, then continued to bandage Pam’s feet. “My brother has a loud voice, doesn’t he?” she said, hoping Pam would open up with her as she had with Lindsey. Like Naomi, Lindsey sat on the bed. Ginger lay on the floor closest to the portion of bed where Pam sat, sniffing Pam’s damaged toes, then sniffing the air, then the child’s toes again. Next she shoved her golden head straight at Naomi’s chest.

  “Ginger, knock it off,” Naomi grumbled. “Lindsey, do something.”

  Lindsey grabbed Ginger’s collar and gently tugged, effectively
distracting the dog.

  “My feet are ugly,” Pam moaned. “They’re all black.”

  “Just the toes,” Naomi explained. She’d finished bandaging the first foot and was beginning the other. “That black is where the cold damaged your capillaries, and the lifeless tissue is starting to slough off.”

  “Huh?” Pam pulled her bare foot away from Naomi and started to touch the damaged toes.

  Lindsey caught Pam’s hands and clapped them together in a patty-cake motion. “Don’t touch. The black is like a big scab. Don’t make it bleed.”

  “Oh. Okay.”

  “And Ginger, get your nose out of here. She wants to lick your feet,” Lindsey told her, “because that’s how animals help heal themselves, by licking their wounds. The increased circulation helps speed new skin growth.”

  Ginger shoved her nose underneath Naomi’s hands and sniffed at the bandaged foot. Then, before either woman could react, Ginger stood on her hind legs and shoved hard at Naomi’s chest again. Naomi overbalanced and slid off the edge of the mattress to bounce down on the floor rug with a thud.

  “Ouch!” Naomi cried, rubbing her behind. Pam giggled as the dog jumped off the bed to nuzzle Naomi’s chest.

  “This dog is always pestering me. Even Eva couldn’t stop her. For heaven’s sake, Lindsey, do something!”

  “CAN’T WE DO SOMETHING?” Eric asked. “We need this generator working!”

  “I told you, I’m trying.” Keith set down his wrench with a clatter and rubbed his hands together. “If there wasn’t a raging blizzard outside, I’d swear someone’s been messing around in here. The fuel pump’s barely processing, but it was fine yesterday.”

  Eric froze. “Wilson’s been here.”

  “You sure? The man couldn’t have hiked through a storm, waltzed in here, tampered with the generator and strolled back out again. Seems hard to believe.”

  Eric hurried to the outside of the door that protected the generator. Amidst howling wind and sharp, stinging snow, the faint impression of footsteps into and away from the shed were still visible. Inspecting the keyhole was an afterthought. The bright silver lines stood out starkly among the dull weathering of the surrounding iron plate. For once, Eric hated being right.

  “He picked the lock,” he told Keith a few minutes later. “The scratches are fresh.”

  “Could’ve been a bear. They don’t have a true hibernation. One could’ve left his den and tried here for food.” Keith picked up his wrench once more and went back to tinkering with the fuel pump.

  “Animals don’t leave human footprints. Where’s your repair bin with the spare parts?”

  “You don’t think…” Keith rushed over to the unlocked storage cubby and lifted the wooden lid. He swore viciously at the damage inside.

  “Bears don’t destroy so neatly.” Eric’s jaw tightened.

  “That son of a—”

  “So can you fix the generator or not?”

  “I do keep a spare set of parts on the cabin porch where we store the skis. It’s not as extensive as the missing set, but I ran out of room in here. They’re in my yellow tool kit.”

  “I’ll get it. You keep babying the generator. If it stops on us, we’ll never get it going again.”

  Eric reached for his gloves and the length of rope they used to get back and forth to the cabin. “I’ll be back in five. Lock the door.”

  GINGER CONTINUED TO PESTER Naomi. Lindsey called off the dog and ordered her out of the room. When Naomi finally finished tending to Pam, Lindsey called Ginger back. “Pam, you stay in bed. Ginger will keep you company. Naomi and I will be back in a minute.”

  “I don’t wanna take a nap,” Pam complained.

  “No one said you had to nap. I just want you to rest your feet,” Naomi said.

  “Here.” Lindsey opened a dresser drawer and removed one of Eva’s old socks. “Take this—” Lindsey tucked it into a ball shape “—and throw it for Ginger. Tell her fetch. I’m going to close the door. Come on, Naomi.”

  In the main room, Naomi looked puzzled. “What’s going on? You’re acting almost as weird as the dog.”

  Lindsey checked her watch. “The men will be outside for another ten minutes. We need to use their room.”

  Naomi sighed. “Look, I have work to do. If this is some kind of game—”

  “You know me better than that.” If anyone plays games, it’s you, she refrained from saying. Naomi had been pleasant, even welcoming, and Lindsey had decided to return the favor.

  Inside the men’s bedroom, Naomi crossed her arms. “Now what?”

  “Take off your sweater and shirt.” Lindsey locked the door.

  Naomi actually grinned. “Yeah, right.” She stopped at the serious expression on Lindsey’s face.

  “This isn’t a joke. I want to see what’s bugging Ginger. Have you been injured lately?”

  “Nope.”

  “We need to be sure, okay? Take off the sweater and shirt,” she repeated.

  Clad in her bra, Naomi frowned as her skin broke out in goose bumps from the cold. Lindsey circled her, carefully inspecting the other woman’s sides, back and front.

  “I see a bruise by your left breast. What’s that from?”

  “I told you, Eva’s dog’s been banging me in the chest every chance she gets.” Naomi reached for her shirt and sweater.

  “No, don’t get dressed. Take off your bra.”

  “What?”

  Lindsey ignored the woman’s reluctance. “When’s the last time you did a self-exam?”

  “Huh?”

  “When’s the last time you checked your breasts?”

  “I don’t know…. What does this have to do with anything?”

  “Last month? More than a few months?”

  Naomi shrugged. “I don’t know. A while.”

  “Remove your bra, get on the bed and examine yourself.”

  “Come on, Lindsey, I have chores to do and a patient to attend! I can do this later.”

  “Come on, it’ll only take a minute. You’re already half undressed. I’ll watch Pam.”

  “For the love of… Oh, all right, if it’ll make you happy and get Eva’s dog to settle down.”

  “She’s not Eva’s dog anymore. She’s mine.”

  LINDSEY SAT ON THE BED opposite Pam, watching the girl throw the sock for the dog. Ginger retrieved it over and over, delighted with all the attention. Pam smiled and giggled, but Lindsey found little joy in the pair’s antics.

  Dogs were used for search-and-rescue and for drug detection, because of their incredible sense of smell. Vets claimed most dogs could detect and remember more than ten thousand smells, while labradors could detect probably hundreds of thousands, even more than bloodhounds. A new smell was like a loose twenty dollar bill on a busy city sidewalk—something to stop and pounce upon.

  Dogs could smell the chemicals of those prone to seizures, and if trained, could notify epileptics of an oncoming grand mal attack before the person afflicted even knew. Lindsey was also aware that dogs could smell cancerous cells. A human’s porous skin was no barrier to a nose that could sniff out a little girl hundreds of feet away, hidden deep in the snow and pine branches. If Ginger kept shoving her nose at a certain area of Naomi’s body, then there had to be a new smell to be investigated and categorized.

  Ginger wasn’t trained as a clinical dog with any frame of reference for the strange smell Lindsey suspected Naomi carried. Nor did Ginger know what to do after locating it, any more than a drug-sniffing dog would know what to do in an avalanche, or a rescue dog would understand how to react among airport baggage. Human-canine bonds required intimate knowledge of each partner by the other, and specific training to keep the team safe and satisfied while achieving certain desired results. Without it, there was no life-saving team, only a person and his or her pet.

  Lindsey’s father had been, and still was, a professional dog-handler who owed his life to his military bomb-sniffing dog overseas. Lindsey’s retired mother had once been
a canine handler for the police force. Both parents bred and trained American Kennel Club registered German shepherds—canine officers that protected the public in numerous ways, including drug detection, bomb detection and criminal apprehension. Lindsey had grown up with her parents’ deep respect and even deeper trust in the ability of their dogs. Those same dogs protected the lives of their owners with a fierce loyalty; a German shepherd police dog named Jade had taken three bullets meant for Lindsey’s mother and paid the ultimate price, dying in the then-young officer’s arms.

  Not to trust one’s dog was, to Lindsey and her family, unthinkable. Their way of life was too dangerous to do otherwise. Lindsey’s oldest sister, Kate, worked her dog with the U.S. Customs Department, searching for contraband at the San Diego Airport and the San Diego Harbor Port Authority. Lara, the youngest, had followed in her mother’s footsteps and worked the K-9 division of the San Diego police. Lindsey, not as comfortable around firearms as the rest of her family, had entered the park service and specialized in search-and-rescue with Missy, her first canine ranger partner.

  Her family possessed knowledge and experience with dogs that the general pet-owning public didn’t. Ginger’s actions around Naomi had been a red flag to Lindsey. She desperately prayed that both she and the dog were wrong in their suspicions.

  Lindsey heard the men’s bedroom door open. She tousled Pam’s hair and grabbed a nature book with large pictures. “You can look at this if you want. I’ll be right back.”

  Ginger dropped the sock and followed Lindsey into the main cabin living area. Lindsey closed the bedroom door behind her and faced Naomi. The other woman’s face was white, and one hand rested over her breast.

  “There’s a lump. I found a lump,” Naomi whispered in a choked voice.

  Despite their past differences, Lindsey opened her arms to envelop and comfort with a hug. Naomi fell upon her as a lifeline. “It’ll be all right,” Lindsey said.

  “How do you know? I haven’t done a self-exam since the end of the summer! And I’m the medical ranger, too. I should’ve known better. Oh, God, what if it’s malignant? What if it’s spread?” Naomi sank to the couch, then buried her face in her hands.

 

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