by Dale Mayer
“Not sure yet,” he said thoughtfully. “I need to talk to your sister.”
She winced. “Do you have to?”
“She’s the one who raised the complaint, so I’ll say yes,” he said. “I also need to get the full file. And, so far I’m not sure if anybody here will be cooperative, and I’ll have to get some legal push to do that.”
“I’d like to see the file myself,” she admitted, “because I don’t know what doctor she went to.”
“Well, there have to be photographs, and there has to be a doctor’s report about how bad the injury was,” he said. “I’d like to see all that. In fact, I would like to see the wound now.”
“I don’t think you’ll be seeing that at all,” she snapped. “My sister will not show me, so she certainly won’t show you.”
“Who’s looking after the bandage and draining the wound and taking care of all the medical stuff?” he asked, hopping to his feet.
She tilted her head, frowning. “What do you mean?”
“The wound’s supposed to be bad,” he said, “as in she was hospitalized or got stitches, as in somebody needs to be caring for it. Does she have a home care nurse? Does she go to the doctor? What is she doing?”
She stopped, stared, and then said, “I don’t live with her, so I’m not exactly sure,” she said cautiously. “But I don’t remember hearing anything about it.”
“So let me ask you point-blank,” he said. “Does she even have a bite?”
She stared, hating that he was bringing out her worst fears. The one she’d flung at the neighbor. “Well …” Then she froze. “I don’t know,” she said. “I’ve never seen it.”
“What are the chances that your sister’s just a liar, hating the dog, and delighted that it’ll get put to sleep but needed to force it to be put to sleep, so created this whole mess as a fabrication?”
“It’s possible,” she said, “but I would hate to think so.”
“Well, you might hate to think so,” he said, “but I don’t want to see an innocent dog go to its death because of a selfish vindictive woman with no boundaries.”
And Addie knew that she’d taken a trip down a rabbit hole that wouldn’t have an easy ending.
He reached down, gently stroked the top of Bernie’s head, and said, “I’ll be back, sweetie.”
The dog barked at him once.
He nodded. “Let me see if I can get some legal paperwork done fast.”
Tucker quickly took several photos of Bernie, and, as he stood here, leaning against the cage, he sent off messages to Badger and his sister. The ones to Badger were all about paperwork. We need legal backing, and we need help. It could be that the entire thing was faked. Need a copy of the doctor’s file.
Interesting came Badger’s response. We’re on it, but, given the time frame, do what you can from there.
As Tucker put away his phone, he stepped out and closed the gate, looked back at the dog, who stared at him with that fixed look in her eyes. “I’ll be back, Bernie,” he said. “Don’t worry. We’ll get you out of here.”
He watched as Addie walked ahead of him. “I don’t know about that,” she said, wrapping her arms around herself. “It’s just a shitty situation.”
“With shitty people involved apparently.”
She swallowed, knowing that she’d given such a horrible impression about her family, but, at the same time, she no longer knew what to believe. “If my sister did fabricate all this,” she said, “can we save the dog’s life?”
“If we can prove it was all fake, yes,” he said, “but, in the meantime, we have almost no time to do anything.”
“What about a stay order?”
“We could, but it depends on the manager here. He didn’t seem too cooperative.”
Out at the front reception desk, Wendy looked up, smiled at her, and said, “Oh, I see you two met each other.”
“Yes,” she said.
At that, he stepped forward and said, “I need a copy of the doctor’s report.”
Wendy stammered about.
“Call the manager back,” Tucker demanded. “Please.”
The sullen fat man returned, primed for this latest altercation. “What?”
“I want to see the doctor’s report.”
“What doctor’s report?”
“You know what doctor’s report. The one concerning the supposed bite Bernie Rottenheim got from the War Dog of the same name.”
“It was … verbal.”
“Right.” Tucker turned to the receptionist. “Do you have a business card?” he asked. “My lawyers need to contact you.”
Wendy’s smile fell away, and she handed him the boss’s card, while shooting the manager a quick glance. “Is there a problem?” she asked Tucker.
“Absolutely there’s a problem,” he said. “That dog never bit anybody. Any report, verbal or written, on such an incident is a lie. And I intend to prove it.” And, with that, he turned and walked outside. He could hear the two women talking a little bit, but he didn’t give a damn. As soon as he stepped outside, his phone rang. It was Badger.
“So you need to tell me that again.”
“Well, apparently the victim won’t let her sister even see the wound. I need a copy of the file. I want to know what doctor sent in the report, and I need to know what I have to do to put a stop to this,” he said. “Otherwise I’ll make a social media scene that you’ve never seen before,” he said, “because this dog did not do anything.”
“We need the facts straight first,” Badger said in a warning tone.
“Sure, but then we also need a copy of that file and proof that the dog did bite someone. The guy here doesn’t have a doctor’s report and doesn’t care, and the sister detested the dog and wanted to get rid of it. But she conned her parents into adopting it as the dog and she share the same name. The dog hated her right from the first day, and I believe the feeling is mutual.”
“And what about the parents who adopted the dog?”
“Well, they don’t handle the strife or the daughter well, so they took off on a holiday.”
“Expecting all this to be over with before they get back, I presume?” Badger said in disgust.
“As far as I can tell, yes,” Tucker said. “Honestly, it’s all BS. I swear to God that dog’s never done anything wrong in her life.”
“Well, you need to hold that thought, but we’ll have a bit of a fight to get that kill order canceled.”
“Get it extended at least,” he said.
“I’ll do what I can,” he said. “You need to track down the doctor, and you need to track down that sister and get a look at the leg.”
“Yeah, I’m not sure how to do that. She’s one of the most manipulative people going, and her whole goal is to get rid of the dog and to save face. She’s getting a lot of attention from this.”
“Great, she gets the attention, and the dog doesn’t.”
“Yeah, that’s the way these people work, right? What we need to do is save the dog and figure out how to punish the daughter later. In the meantime, we need the War Dog out of here.”
“I hear you. Is she in any danger? She should be well cared for,” Badger said.
“She’s in a cage, but I don’t trust the manager of the pound. I think he’s been abusing Bernie. She regarded him as the enemy.”
“Does he have any connection to the sister?”
“No clue, but it’s something I’ll have to look into,” he said, “and that’s depressing too.”
“It sounds like another play of their game,” he said.
“I think so. I just don’t understand who, what, and why.”
“You will,” Badger said with confidence. “Don’t worry. You will.”
“I hope so. It’s just shit right now, and I’m pretty damn pissed off about the whole thing.”
“Good,” Badger said. “Get pissed off, but don’t get mad. Get even.” He added, “If nobody else can give that dog justice, make sure that we find
justice for her. She deserves it. She’s saved a ton of military lives, and we need to make sure that we do the same for her.”
Tucker hung up, and Addie joined him. “Let’s go see your sister.”
Addie grimaced.
“I want to see the wound and the doctor’s report. Got any better ideas?”
“No, but my sister won’t answer your questions, won’t agree to show you anything,” she said.
“Typical psychopath. Still needs to be done. Are you in, or are you out? Don’t waste my time. I need to talk to your sister. Can you make that happen?”
She winced. “I can take you there,” she said. “No guarantee that she’ll talk to you.” At that, her phone rang, and she looked down. “Speaking of which,” she said, “it’s my sister.” She answered it. “Bernie, what’s up?”
Tucker leaned in closer to overhear both sides of the conversation.
“I’m outta painkillers,” she said petulantly.
“Did you check the bathroom?”
“Of course I did,” she said.
“What about the upstairs bathroom?”
“Yes, I checked there too.”
“Fine,” she said. “I’m out shopping. I’ll come by afterward.”
“And fast,” Bernie said.
Addie looked to see Tucker’s eyebrows raised at that. “Yeah, I should be there in maybe fifteen minutes.”
“Good. Damn dog,” she said. “I didn’t think it would take this long to heal from something like that.”
“Maybe I should take a look at it when I’m there,” she said. “Make sure it’s not infected.”
“No,” her sister snapped immediately. “Nobody’s fucking touching it.”
“Well, when’s your next doctor’s appointment?” she asked.
“I don’t have one. I’ll be just fine without it,” she said with a sneer. “I’ll be much better when the dog’s dead. On Friday. Then at least I know he won’t come after me again.”
“It’s a her, not a him,” she said, pinching the bridge of her nose.
“Whatever. It’ll be dead soon. That’s all I care about.”
“If you say so,” she said. “I’ll come over in a bit.” She hung up the phone. Of course he heard, but she repeated, “Bernie, asking for her painkillers.”
“Yeah, she’s a total psycho bitch. But those painkillers were prescription, right?”
Addie nodded but frowned too. “Yeah?”
“Which will have a doctor’s name on them. Good. That’s easy enough to find. Let’s go. I’ll deal with your psycho sister then.”
They arrived at the family home, and Addie let them in with her key. Her lazy self-entitled sister remained on the couch in the living room.
“About time. Get me my painkillers.”
Addie winced, turned to Tucker.
He whispered, “Don’t let her know I’m here yet. Get the pills. I need a snapshot of the doc’s info.”
Addie silently headed upstairs, where she had last seen the pills. Finding them, she brought them to Tucker.
“What the hell is taking you so long?” Bernie demanded.
Tucker took several photos of the painkillers, then pocketed them, calling the doc, who was quick to say he didn’t treat any bite, mosquito or dog or snake bite or otherwise, for Bernie. Tucker hung up. “Introduce us now.”
“Who the hell is that?” Bernie asked, when she noted the presence of the man with Addie.
Bernie wore long pants. In the summertime in Miami. How convenient. “I’m a representative acting on behalf of US Navy Commander Cross. I’ve come to see the supposed bite wound.”
Bernie frowned, taking a sec to adjust to the new threat. “Get the hell out of here,” she shrieked.
“After I see the wound and have a photo of it for the US Navy’s file.”
Bernie grabbed her phone. “I’m dialing 9-1-1.”
Addie looked to Tucker, as if to ask, Now what?
Just wait, he mouthed. When he heard no sirens in three minutes, he faced Bernie. “Now that we’ve confirmed you are a liar, want to try again? Show me the wound.”
“Go to hell.”
“See?” he said to Addie, as he continued loudly. “You’ve got yourself a full-fledged psychopath for a sister. She should permanently be in a psychiatric hospital, as she is harmful to others, if not to herself.”
Bernie’s shrieks grew louder and louder, as Tucker’s smile grew bigger and bigger. He called Badger. Wanted Bernie to hear this. “The complainant is a psychopath and a liar. No proof of doctor’s report. No evidence of wound. Call the major and the governor to demand the release of the War Dog. And file with Commander Cross a malicious report made to the US Navy by Bernie Rottenheim. Also ask for a seventy-two-hour hold on our lying complainant.”
Badger laughed. “Good job. Stay on it. I’ll work the angles from my end too.”
Tucker and Addie left, Bernie’s shrieks easily heard even as they walked down the driveway.
Chapter 3
Addie walked over to Tucker as he hopped into the truck. “May I have your contact information please?” she asked.
He looked at her in surprise, but then he saw the concern in her gaze. “For your sister’s sake or for the dog’s sake?”
“Look. I know my family is at fault for this,” she said, “but I can’t be blamed for everything they do. I can only do what I can to try and fix this. I want to save that dog as much as you do.”
He remembered the relationship between the two of them—or at least appeared to because his gaze softened. “Well, I did see the dog and how she reacted to you,” he said. “Honestly I would trust the dog’s reaction over people’s any time.”
“And I know that,” she said, “and you don’t have any reason to trust me, but I love her. The dog, Bernie. Not so much my sister, Bernie.”
“And that was obvious,” he said quietly. He pulled out his phone and said, “Here’s my number.”
She keyed it into her phone and then gave hers to Tucker. “And I’m … I’m sorry,” she said. “I just … I don’t know how to fix this.”
“Well, I’m working on it,” he said, shaking his head. “Are you serious? That’s your sister?”
She nodded slowly. “Like I said, it’s a difficult situation.”
“She doesn’t care about the dog at all, does she?”
“Only that it dies,” she said, “and that’s what I’m up against daily. It’s her whole focus.”
“Do you have any idea how bad the bite supposedly is?”
“You tell me,” she said. “I thought it had to be bad before the dog was put to sleep.”
“It should be. How mobile is she?”
“Not,” she said, “she stays on the couch all the time. She has a bedroom on the main floor anyway.”
“And yet she says she went upstairs to check for her pain pills.”
Addie stopped and stared. And then she nodded slowly. “Yes, she did say that.”
“So really, could she have gotten up the stairs?”
“I don’t know. I mean, if the bite’s as bad as she says it is, then maybe not.”
“If there was no bite, why does she need the pain pills?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know.”
“So why would she have you come and get them in the first place?”
“Attention? To yank my chain,” she said shortly.
“Wow.” He stopped and stared at her. “You have a truly messed-up family.”
“I have a messed-up sister,” she corrected. “I’ve admitted that. I don’t want to keep harping on it.”
“No, I got that,” he said. “And I guess she won’t let me see the bite either, unless I come back with a warrant and the cops.” Tucker hesitated. “Maybe I’ll have to do that anyway,” he said.
She looked at him with interest. “Can you?”
He shrugged. “I’m not exactly sure what my legal backing is. Badger and I are sorting that out now.”
“Isn�
��t that …” Again she stopped and hesitated.
“What?”
“I don’t know. I just would like to see some protection for the dog.”
“A lot of places in the US don’t give a damn about dogs,” he said. “Animal protection, … animal rights are nonexistent, no matter how much legal jargon says otherwise.”
“No. I was hoping Miami was a little bit better.”
“Not once there are several accounts that this animal’s dangerous—Bernie’s account backed up by your parents.”
“Her friend said it was dangerous too, said it bit her.”
“Which friend is that?”
“Olive,” she said.
“Do you have Olive’s number?”
“Yeah,” she said, “I think I do.” She pulled out her phone, looked it up, and gave it to him. “What will you do?”
“I’ll go interview her,” he said. “See what she wants to say and if there’s any legal standing behind this. Where her word is on record.”
“Oh,” she said. “I would love to be a fly on the wall with that,” she said, “but Olive isn’t exactly very fond of me.”
“Well, I wonder why,” he said with a brief laugh. “If she’s a friend of your sister’s, you know that anybody who isn’t on your sister’s side is against her. You’re either my friend or you’re my enemy in your sister’s world.”
“How do you know so much about her mental state?” she asked, staring at him. The fact that he was right was also kind of scary.
“Because I’ve studied people for a long time,” he said. “It’s also part of our training.”
“What do you mean, training?”
“I was a Navy SEAL,” he said briefly. “And one of the things that you must understand going into these missions is the psychology behind people, their behavior, and their motivations. I’ve met a couple people like your sister, not too many thankfully,” he said. “But it usually involved bigger issues—kidnappings and government coups, all kinds of garbage like that,” he said. “It hasn’t come across my desk in this form before.”
“But then you probably never dealt with something small like this, have you?” she asked.
