by Patricia Fry
Michael reached over and petted the dog before saying, “Someone tried to take Lexie.”
“Lexie?”
“Our dog,” he said, motioning in her direction. “I chased him down and he dropped her, thank heavens.”
After Michael told the story, Craig asked, “Did you get a plate number?”
“No,” Michael said, lowering his head. “I was just so focused on getting our dog, and then I went for the guy. Didn’t look at the license plate. Damn, should have done that. I can tell you the car was a small, dark-colored, four-door, like maybe a Toyota or Nissan—an older model. It had tinted windows—at least the one in back. I couldn’t see inside.”
“Do you have a description of the guy who took the dog?” Craig asked.
Michael grimaced and shook his head. “I’m not even sure it was a guy. He was wearing a dark knit beanie down low on his head…I guess jeans and a sweatshirt. Yeah, a hooded sweatshirt, black or dark blue, maybe.”
Craig addressed Savannah. “Is that pretty much what you saw?”
“Yes.” She nodded.
“Come to think of it, I did notice some sort of emblem or writing on the back window.” Michael thought about it for a moment, struggling to remember. Finally, he cocked his head and said, “You know, I think it might have been one of those memorials. I couldn’t read what it said, but it looked like a lot of writing across the lower middle section of the back window…like with a name and date of the deceased.”
“An ‘in memory of’ decal.” Craig nodded. “You see a lot of those these days. You couldn’t read the name, though?”
“No.” Michael jumped to his feet and walked across the room in front of Savannah and Craig. He then turned toward Craig. “I’d bet that freak Gamble is behind this, don’t you think?”
Craig nodded. “I wouldn’t be surprised.”
“But it sure has us spooked, as you can imagine.” Michael walked back toward his chair. He thought for a moment and then sat down. “My son was coming for a visit this weekend, but you know what? I think I’d better tell him not to come. I just can’t risk something happening to him…”
“Maybe Gamble will be in jail over the weekend. Would you feel safer?”
Michael’s eyes lit up. “You can do that?”
Craig stood and moved toward the front door. He stopped and turned. “Possibly. I’ll let you know if we find out the car belongs to him or that he had something to do with this. Don’t change your plans yet, Michael. Let me see what I can do, first.”
Michael reached out and shook the detective’s hand enthusiastically. “Okay. Thanks, Craig.”
Craig glanced over at the dog. “By the way, is the dog okay?”
“Seems to be,” Michael said.
“Good.” He started to exit, but then looked back at Michael. He scratched his head. “So where was the dog when this…person got his or her hands on it?”
“She was in the dog run in the backyard.”
“You don’t keep that locked?”
“She’s not out there very often or for very long.” Michael thought for a minute and then said, “I’m going to start locking that gate when she’s in there—the horse corral, too.”
Savannah stood and walked toward the men. “Rags saw the guy take her. He’s the one who alerted us.”
“Rags?” the detective repeated. “Oh, your cat. How did he…alert you?”
Michael responded. “He was looking out the window and started meowing and getting all upset. He must have seen the whole thing and he…well, he told us there was something wrong.”
“He told you, huh?”
“Yes,” Savannah said. “Animals have a lot to say if humans will only listen to them.”
“No kiddin’?” Craig said, only partially hiding his skepticism. And then he let out a breath through pursed lips and added, “Your cat sure had a hand…er…a paw in solving our last big case, didn’t he?”
“Sure did,” Savannah agreed.
Craig started to turn toward the door again, but changed his mind. He looked from Michael to Savannah and said, “If we find out it was Gamble, you may want to get a restraining order against him.”
“Good idea,” Savannah said. “Honey, let’s do that for sure.”
Michael’s face grew rigid. He looked down at his feet. “Yeah, what good does it do?”
“If he comes around, you can have him arrested. You don’t want him anywhere near you or your property, do you?” Craig asked.
“Sure don’t want him near me, my family, or my animals,” Michael said defiantly. He then looked Craig in the eyes and said, “That reminds me; he wants his dog. I have him on ice. Can I arrange to get the dog back to him through a police escort or something?”
“Yeah, talk to Jim about that—I’m sure he’ll arrange it for you.”
***
“Gosh, I can’t believe it’s only Tuesday. A lot has happened these last few days,” Savannah said while standing at the stove stirring a cream sauce.
“Yeah, too much. How’s that knee feeling?” Michael asked.
She reached down and touched her left knee, then bent and flexed her leg a couple of times. “It’s better, I guess. I think the swelling is down some.”
“You probably aren’t resting it as much as you should be,” he said.
Savannah turned toward her husband. “Well, treating animals for a living isn’t something you can do sitting down with your leg elevated.” She creased her brow. “You aren’t still having headaches, are you?”
“No. And the swelling in my face is going down. I guess we’ll survive, babe.”
“I’m counting on it. We have things to do and babies to welcome into the world.”
“Babies?” Michael walked over to Savannah and repeated, “Babies?”
“Well, yeah.” She tilted her head and raised her nicely arched eyebrows. Her highlighted hair draped over one shoulder. “You want babies, don’t you?”
“Sure. You know I do, but I don’t hear you bring it up much.” He stared over at her for a moment. “Does this mean…”
She waved a hand in the air in front of her and shook her head. “It doesn’t mean anything, Michael. Of course, I want children. But no, I’m not pregnant and I don’t intend being pregnant anytime soon.”
Michael sighed deeply and walked across the room. He turned back toward her, his voice deeper now. “When, Savannah?”
Savannah felt as though her heart was about to break. “Oh Michael, I’m sorry. I know how important having our child is to you. I didn’t mean to…” She turned off the stove burner, walked over and wrapped her arms around his neck. “We’ve only been married for a few months.”
“Nearly six months.”
She pulled back and saw signs of brooding on his face. She ran her fingers through the straight hairs that stubbornly fall over one of his eyebrows. “Actually, honey, I was thinking about suggesting I stop the birth control sometime in the fall. What do you think?”
Michael’s posture straightened and his face lit up. “Really, Savannah? Really? August? September? We could have a baby by this time next year.”
He put his hands on her shoulders and looked into her eyes. “What do you say, Savannah? Shall we shoot for a spring or early summer baby?”
“Uh, well, I guess…” she started, when he bent down a little and kissed her hard on the lips. She slid her hands up around the back of his neck and held him to her, kissing him back, gently at first and then passionately.
“Savannah, you make me so happy.”
“This really does mean a lot to you, doesn’t it, Michael?”
“It means everything to me, Savannah. You mean everything to me and to have a baby with you…” He choked up and didn’t finish the sentence. They held each other tightly for several moments before Savannah pulled away with a gasp.
“What’s the matter?”
She rushed toward the oven and began to laugh. “Can’t you smell it? I just made Gladys Jordan bread.
” She yanked the oven door open and began fanning at the thin ribbon of smoke that wafted past her.
Michael looked puzzled. “Gladys Jordan bread?”
“Mom has this knack for burning bread when it’s under the broiler. I guess I’ve inherited the curse.” She laughed.
“So what are we having tonight, hon,” he asked, “besides burned bread?”
“Creamed eggs and asparagus on…only slightly scorched English muffins. Sound yummy?”
“Sure does. Only…”
“Only what?” she turned to look at him.
“Only I’ve never had it before, but I’ll try to like it.”
“So what do you think?” Savannah asked after they’d been eating for a few minutes.
“It’s pretty good. Creamed eggs, huh?”
She nodded.
“Yes, I like it.”
Savannah scraped more of the burned parts off an English muffin and placed it on her plate. She ladled some of the egg sauce over it. “Michael I’m so glad you got that restraining order against Pete Gamble. I hope he follows it. Did you get his dog back to him?”
“Yes, he had a sheriff escort and Bud took care of things. They recommended I just stay out of the way.”
“Good.” She picked up her fork and cut through an asparagus spear. Before lifting the bite to her mouth, she said, “I’d rather see him in jail, though.”
“All in good time, I imagine. I spoke with Sondra Blair and it looks as though he could go to trial sometime in October. Don’t know why they drag these things out.”
“Do you like Sondra as an attorney?”
“Yeah, I guess. Never had one before, except to help me when I established the clinic. I haven’t seen her in action—you know in the courtroom—so it’s hard to tell.” He then looked intently at Savannah. “So far no leads on who tried to take Lexie.”
Upon hearing her name, Lexie raised her head up off her paw and stared over at Michael from her bed near the kitchen door. When no one made any further gestures toward her, she settled back down and closed her eyes.
“I’m convinced that Pete Gamble had something to do with it, aren’t you?”
“Sure am,” Michael agreed while cutting a piece of English muffin and swirling it around in the creamed eggs on his plate.
***
The next morning, Savannah got up first. She was in the shower when Michael opened the frosted glass door. He peered in at her, an impish smile on his face. “Want company?”
“Why sure, sleepyhead.” She reached out and pulled him to her.
Fifteen minutes later, Savannah was blow-drying her hair. “What an exhilarating shower,” she said with a sigh.
“Sure was,” Michael agreed, a wide grin on his face. He walked up behind her, reached around and started to untie the belt on her terry robe.
She pointed the dryer in his direction saying, “Don’t even think about it, buddy. We’ve got to get to work.”
“Awww, you’re no fun.” He walked into the bedroom and began to dress. He then returned to the bathroom wearing jeans and a lightweight flannel shirt. He looked over at Savannah, who was braiding her hair. “I’ll go feed the herd—what do you want for breakfast?”
“Just yogurt and fruit. We still have blueberries and raspberries left, don’t we?”
“I think so.” He turned to leave the room, stopped, and added, “I think I’ll have some of that creamy egg stuff we had last night.”
“Cool. Then you did like it.”
“Yeah.”
“Michael,” she called, “I’m going to take my own car today. I have to run a few errands after work.” She stepped into the bedroom and asked, “By the way, did you hear a ruckus last night?”
Michael stopped and looked over at his wife. “No, what sort of ruckus?”
“A cat ruckus. Some cat—probably Rags—was upset about something. I heard his thunder paws racing around the house and he was meowing. Something had him upset.”
“Nope, I didn’t hear a thing. Maybe you dreamed it.”
“Maybe, I guess. I really was sleepy, couldn’t wake up enough to figure out what was going on. Next thing I knew, it was morning.”
Savannah returned to the bathroom and finished primping in front of the mirror and then she headed in to straighten the bedroom and dress. She was pleasantly surprised to see that Michael had done a pretty good job of making the bed. She pulled a clean pair of jeans and a sweater out of the closet and quickly dressed. She was tying her sport shoes when Michael entered the bedroom. She took one look at his face and asked, “What’s wrong?”
“I guess you weren’t dreaming, after all.”
“Huh?”
“Your cat was upset about something last night.”
“Why? What happened?”
“Damn tires have been slashed.”
Savannah frowned. “What tires?”
“Your car and my truck. All flat.” He paced across the floor in front of Savannah, slammed his palms down on a chest of drawers on the other side of the room, and said, “Damn that Pete Gamble!”
Chapter Three
“So what do we do, Michael?” Savannah asked. “How do we get to work?”
“We get new tires. That’s what we do. As far as getting to work, maybe we can borrow Maggie’s or Max’s car.” He took his phone out of his pocket. “I’ll call and ask.”
Savannah picked up her phone off the bedside table, unplugged it, and called the sheriff’s office. “Hi Ben, this is Savannah Ivey. I’d like to report vandalism. Yes. The tires on both of our vehicles have been flattened. No kidding. This is getting old. Okay, sir, we’ll do that.”
They hung up their phones at about the same time. Savannah spoke first, “Ben wants us to leave everything as it is until they can come out and look around. If they miss us here, they want one of us to come in and fill out a report.”
“Okay. What’s your schedule like today?”
“Not too bad. Why?”
Michael said, “Why don’t you go with your aunt over to that car-rental place this morning and rent a car for us. When Ben or Jim gives us the go-ahead, I’ll call and have the vehicles towed and arrange for the new tires.” He shook his head and thinned his lips. “My tires were almost brand new and yours were in good shape.”
“Isn’t this covered under our insurance?” Savannah asked.
“Possibly, but then there’s the deductible.” He started to pace again and then he stopped and said, “Since it happened here, this might come under our homeowner’s policy. Can you call and check on that? I’ll take your patients this morning.” He stopped and looked over at her as she picked up her jacket and scarf. “Anything I should know about your schedule?”
“No, I don’t think so…oh wait, Edie’s coming in with Sally. I was talking to her recently about a new treatment for cats with Sally’s condition and she wanted to consider it. Do you know the one I mean?”
“Uh, yes. You showed me that case history you were reading. I actually prescribed the treatment for the Montgomerys’ cat and he seems to be doing better. I’ll talk to Edie about it and maybe we can start Sally on a low dose. Is that what you had in mind?”
“Yes—she’s so fragile, we don’t want to introduce her to anything too abruptly. But I do have a good feeling about this treatment, don’t you?” Savannah asked.
He looked at his watch. “You’d better get some breakfast; your aunt will be here in twenty minutes. She’s going to drop me off at the clinic before taking you to the car-rental place.”
Michael followed Savannah into the living room. She walked over to one of the windows and looked out at their vehicles, which were parked in the circular driveway in front of the house. “Yup, flat,” she said upon seeing the car and truck both sitting on their rims. She started to let the curtain drop into place when she pulled it back again. “What’s that?”
“What?” Michael peered over her shoulder.
“There’s something sticking in the front tire of yo
ur truck.”
“Shoot, I didn’t see that. I’ll go look.”
Savannah stepped out onto the porch and watched as her husband approached his veterinary truck. “Better not disturb it, Michael,” she yelled. She watched as he squatted down and looked more closely at it. He then stood up, scratched his head and headed back up the porch steps.
“Well, what is it?”
He walked past her through the front door. “It’s an ice pick sticking in the tire with a note attached.” He turned to her, his face slightly contorted in anger. “It says, ‘You will die, too.’”
Savannah put her hand to her mouth and gasped. “My gosh, Michael, what does this mean?”
“It means that we could be in some danger. Or, it’s an empty threat.” He paced the length of the living room, turned, and said, “Whatever it means, I don’t like this. I don’t like it one bit! I’m going to call the sheriff’s office.”
“Don’t you remember, I told you I called and talked to Ben?”
Michael continued pacing. “That damn Pete Gamble,” he snarled. “Hasn’t he done enough damage?” He stopped in front of Savannah, looked over at her and ran his hand through his hair. “Why don’t you go ahead to the clinic. I want to stay here and talk to Ben or Jim—whoever shows up. I’ll hitch a ride over to get a rental car.” He looked up at Savannah, who was clutching her hands to her chest, a look of terror on her face. “Oh, honey. I didn’t mean to scare you,” he said, walking toward her. He put his arms around her in a bear hug just as she started to cry. “It’ll be all right, honey. I’m sorry if I scared you. It just makes me so mad, that’s all. I feel so helpless.” He put his hands on her shoulders and moved away, looking her in the eyes. “Now, you go eat something, will you? I don’t want you to wilt away.” He spun her around and gave her a nudge toward the kitchen.
She walked a few steps and then turned and looked at her husband. He motioned for her to go on and she disappeared into the kitchen.
***
Later the same day, Michael stepped into the lab where Savannah was viewing a set of x-rays. “Hi honey,” he said hugging her from behind.
