The Boathouse (A Pelican Pointe Novel Book 14)

by Vickie McKeehan

  “That’s him. I wonder what he wants. You can bet he’s working some kind of angle.”

  Bodie opened her door but turned back to Tucker. “Just remember, we were fourteen once and thought we knew everything.”

  Tucker got out but still kept one eye on the teen, feeling a certain amount of apprehension about the situation. He looked over at Bodie. “What are you saying? That I should cut the kid some slack because he busted in my door?”

  Bodie skirted the hood. “I’m saying that he’s obviously in dire need of attention.”

  Oliver shoved off the wall and stuck his hands in his pockets as he approached the pickup. “I need to talk to you for a second. It won’t take long.”

  Clive edged over to where Tucker and the teen now stood a few feet apart. “He’s already been told several times to leave the premises, but he just keeps hanging around looking to start trouble.”

  Oliver glared at the old man. “I’m not looking for anything except a few minutes to talk to Mr. Ferguson.”

  “What is it you want, Oliver?” Tucker asked.

  Oliver shuffled his feet and glanced back over his shoulder at Clive. “It’s a private conversation. Doesn’t have a thing to do with him.”

  Tucker angled toward Clive. “It’s okay. I’ll take it from here. You go on home. By the way, I hope your mother’s feeling better. Owen mentioned she was pretty sick this time.”

  Clive nodded and sent up a wave before heading toward his Ford truck. “She’s better. The chemo always makes her sick. You never know what kind of a reaction she’ll have from it.”

  Once Clive had climbed into his pickup, Oliver cleared his throat. “The reason I came by is that…I wanted to ask for more time. I need longer to get the fifty bucks together that I owe you. I started a job last week at the junkyard. The owner pays me in cash. But I did the math. With what I get, I might need another two weeks tacked on to July 31st to pay all that I owe.”

  The boy pulled his hand out of his pocket and came up with a handful of wadded up one-dollar bills, which he held out for Tucker to take.

  Despite the cash feeling damp and sweaty, Tucker counted out the amount. “Okay. I’ll put this eight-dollar payment toward your tab. Do you need a receipt?”

  Oliver gave him a shrug and glanced over at Bodie. “I guess not. I gotta witness. That should be enough. You saw it, right? I have forty-two bucks left to go.”

  “I saw it,” Bodie stated, doing her best to maintain a somber demeanor. “If it were me, though, I’d want a receipt.”

  Oliver cracked a grin, and the smile changed his entire face. The kid even showed off a twin set of dimples. “Nah, I trust him. Where’s he gonna go?”

  As he turned to go into the store, Tucker softened his stance. “Thanks. That works both ways.”

  “Wait,” Oliver began. “Is that a yes on more time?”

  Tucker stopped his progress. “Two weeks, that’s all you get, the middle of August.”

  “Okay. Thanks. I’ll have the balance by then.”

  “Wanna shake on it?” Tucker said, sticking out his hand.

  Oliver stepped toward the back door, noticing the shiny steel, he added, “I’m really sorry about breaking it and causing you a mess to fix.”

  Tucker acknowledged the apology. “I know. Just don’t do stuff like that again. Look, I gotta go check on Matty and Novah, see how they’re getting along.”

  Left alone with Oliver, Bodie took the détente as a sign and decided to extend an invitation. “After Tucker gets done here, we were just about to stop in and see about his dog. Wanna come with us?”

  “What’s wrong with his dog?”

  “Someone stabbed him.”

  Oliver’s smile faded. His brow creased as he gulped air. “For real? You mean like…with a real knife?”

  “Unfortunately,” Bodie returned. “Lago underwent surgery earlier today.”

  “Do they know who did it?” Oliver asked.

  “No, not yet. But Brent’s working on finding out.”

  “I always wanted a dog,” Oliver said, toying with rocks on the pavement with the toe of his trainers. “Will he be all right?”

  “Cord says yes. But it’s bound to be painful for Lago. Recovery from a wound like that always is.”

  “Why would somebody stab a dog? That’s mean.”

  “I agree. It doesn’t make a whole lot of sense.”

  Tucker came back out. “They’re doing fine without me, about to close up. Let’s go see how Lago is doing.”

  “I asked Oliver to come with us,” Bodie acknowledged.

  Tucker met her eyes. There was disapproval in the stare. But instead of putting up a protest, he opened the back door of the truck for Oliver. “If you’re going, get in.”

  The animal clinic was half a block away, so there wasn’t much time for conversation. And as soon as Tucker pulled up in the parking lot, Oliver hopped out.

  The roar of dogs yapping came from the kennels in the back.

  “Do they have well dogs here or just sick ones?” Oliver wanted to know.

  “Cord and Keegan board dogs here until they’re able to find them homes,” Tucker answered as he led the way around to the after-hours side entrance and knocked on the door. “Because they refuse to send a dog or cat to the County shelter.”

  Jessica St. John grinned when she saw who had come calling. “Lago will be so happy to see his human.”

  “I’m anxious to see him, too,” Tucker said, as he followed Jessica into the recovery area where the oversized cages lined one wall. “How’s he doing?”

  “He’s been my best patient,” Jessica revealed. “A real trooper. If someone had knifed me, I’d be cranky and unreasonable. But not Lago. This good boy has the best disposition of any dog we’ve ever had. Goldendoodles are like that.”

  Inside the end cage, on a soft bed of blue, Tucker spotted his poor dog curled up, looking sleepy-eyed. They’d shaved Lago’s front leg for the IV and it was still visible. At the sound of footsteps, or maybe the familiar smell of his owner, Lago lifted his head but dropped it back down on the large square pillow in a drowsy state.

  It broke his heart to see Lago suffering. Running his fingers through Lago’s curly coat, Tucker stroked the dog’s side. “Hey, buddy, how’s it going? How are you feeling? You’re gonna be fine. You get to come home tomorrow.”

  Jessica eyed the monitor attached to the steel cage. “His vitals are great. In another hour, the IV will come out. At that time, I’ll attach a cone around his neck to make sure he doesn’t pull at the stitches or nose around where the IV went in.”

  “Who stays here with him overnight?” Bodie asked.

  “Ellie will be here at nine and stay until two. Bette Magnuson takes over until seven when Cord comes back on duty. Don’t worry. Anytime they have surgery, we have our patients covered, twenty-four-seven. Cord makes sure they all get checked every half hour, too.”

  “This is so cool,” Oliver stated as he bent down to look into every occupied cage. “Is that a rabbit?”

  Jessica chuckled when she saw the boy’s face, eager, ever interested. He had stopped to stare at a large, fat, orange and white French Lop. “That’s Cinnabunn, Winnie Malloy’s pet rabbit.”

  “What’s wrong with him?”

  Jessica didn’t need to study the chart that hung on the cage to answer the question. “Cinnabunn had a stomach blockage, ate one of Winnie’s game pieces. But so far, Cinnabunn’s recovering nicely from her ordeal.”

  Oliver looked bewildered. “Get out. Dr. Bennett operated on a rabbit?”

  “He did. He operates on seals and sea lions, along with a whole variety of other animals that get sick.”

  “Wow. That is so cool. What does it take to get to work in a place like this?”

  “A love of animals and a strong stomach.”

  “You mean cleaning up poop? That doesn’t bother me. I always wanted a dog. I even told Uncle Kris I’d clean up after it.”

  “Really?” Je
ssica eyed him with interest. “We might be able to make that wish come true. It just so happens that we have several dogs available for adoption. Would you like to take a tour into the other wing and see who we have on tap?”

  The look on Oliver’s face said he couldn’t believe his luck. “Sure.”

  Bodie watched Jessica lead the way into a separate part of the facility. After they were out of earshot, she turned to Tucker. “There’s a boy who needed some encouragement.”

  “You certainly had him pegged. That’s a totally different kid than what I saw when I first met him. He was sulky and broody, didn’t seem to give a damn about anything. The look in his eyes was almost…”

  Bodie sat down next to Lago’s bed and began to stroke his head. “Pure joy? Hope? Yeah. I got that. Everybody could use a little encouragement, couldn’t they, Lago?”

  As if he understood and agreed, Lago whined, then lifted his head to give her hand a lick.

  Tucker knelt next to the cage. “You have a way with people. You saw something in that boy, something no one else bothered to see.” He thought of Scott, who was usually so much more intuitive. “You don’t think Oliver would hurt an animal, do you?”

  “I don’t get that from him at all. He’s lonely, Tucker. The boy needs a friend. Bad. That’s what I see. He could also use someone his own age to pal around with. Someone’s who’s a good influence.”

  “Bullies don’t usually have friends like that.”

  “Who says he’s a bully? Have you spent any time with him at all?”

  “No. But his uncle is convinced Oliver’s reached a crossroads, a turning point where there’s no turning back. Oliver will either straighten up or go another way. Kris is afraid he’ll get even worse. I get the impression that Kris has basically given up.”

  “I hope that isn’t true. Oliver’s only fourteen. He needs something good to happen in his life.”

  “You know, I can almost understand that logic. I was so angry when I first came in here and saw Lago like this. He’s just a puppy. He never hurt anybody. But if a dog could help Oliver make a connection, make him feel something, maybe help him turn around his attitude, I’m all for that.”

  “But right now, you’re focused on Lago.”

  “Yeah. I am. Anyone who could hurt an animal is mean enough to hurt a human. I’d like to get my hands on this guy, one on one.”

  She laid a hand on his arm. “It’s natural to want revenge. But what I’m saying is try and do something about the things you can alter, things that might make a difference in someone else’s life right this minute.”

  Tucker ran a finger down her cheek. “Like helping Oliver get a dog. You’re a soft touch. You met him two minutes ago.”

  “So? I want to see him happier. Is that so wrong? I don’t think he’s a bully, either. Maybe there’s some kind of disconnect going on here. I think I’ll have a chat with Julianne about it.”

  Oliver came running back into the recovery unit, skidding to a stop in front of Lago’s bed. “I found one. I found a great-looking brown and white terrier. Jessica says he’s just a mutt. But he already acts like he loves me. He licked my face. I’m gonna call him Chewy, like Chewbacca in Star Wars, because he chewed on my finger. It didn’t even hurt.”

  Tucker saw it then, the light in Oliver’s eyes, the light that said this moment might be the turning point, not the time for anyone to give up on a fourteen-year-old kid. Maybe this was what Scott had meant. “Okay. What do we need to do?”

  “Sign papers and stuff. Jessica says I get to take him home tonight if Uncle Kris returns my phone call before nine when she goes off duty.”

  Bodie handed Oliver her cell phone. “Then, by all means, give Uncle Kris a call. If he needs convincing, that’s what Tucker and I are here for.”

  Oliver grinned as he punched in the number. “Awesome.”

  After twenty minutes of persuading, Kris gave in, and Oliver was allowed to take Chewy home. The dog strutted out of his cage sporting a smidgen of Jack Russell along with some serious Cairn thrown in for long hair and coloring.

  The trio stopped at Murphy’s Market to pick up supplies like dog food, a collar, and a leash before Tucker and Bodie delivered Oliver and Chewy back at the house on Dune Point.

  Missing his own dog, Tucker had a warning for the teenager. “Make sure you walk Chewy several times before going to bed.”

  “I know, I know,” Oliver said before getting out of the truck. “Walk him, so he doesn’t poop on the carpet. I got it. I’m not stupid.”

  “I never said you were,” Tucker snapped. “If you have any questions, call me. I’ll get you a doggie door tomorrow, and you can start teaching him to use it.”

  “Is that what you do for Lago?”

  “Yep. Once you train them to use the door, they pretty much come and go anytime they need to. Unless you’d rather walk Chewy.”

  “Which is totally fine,” Bodie added. “That’s what I did whileTucker was in Florida. I bonded with Lago by walking him at night.”

  Oliver made a face. “I just thought of something. I won’t be able to take him to work with me. That scrapyard is a minefield of rusted junk. He gets up against that kind of stuff, and he might get…tetanus or something. Besides, old man Jackdaw would never allow it cause he has one of those Dobermans. But it’s mean and snarls at everybody who comes close. I don’t want Chewy around that. And the only time that dog ever leaves is when Mr. Jackdaw takes him along in the car.”

  Tucker eased the kid’s fears. “Kris said he would take Chewy out during the day while you’re at work. Like I said before, you have questions, hit me up. You have my number now.”

  The kid grinned. “Don’t worry. Chewy and me, we’ll be fine.”

  Tucker watched the pair until they disappeared inside the house. “I hope he’s all right.”

  “Which one?”

  “Both. By the way, you were right about him. Oliver could use a friend. Maybe Chewy is just what he needs.”

  As Tucker hit the gas, Bodie had never felt so responsible for anyone else before in her life. She hoped the dog hadn’t been a mistake. She hoped Oliver was up to the task.

  Tucker read her thoughts. “Now, who’s worried?”

  “I just want that kid to have some success at something. Is that so wrong?”

  “Nope. And it’s a good idea. They’ll be fine.”

  As they drove into the night, Bodie sent up a silent prayer to make it so. She only hoped someone up there was in a mood to listen.

  Seventeen

  Bodie could still remember middle school and getting into trouble. There was something about taking that long walk down the hallway and getting summoned into the principal’s office that triggered an intimidating memory.

  But since it was summer vacation and no chance of catching Julianne McLachlan on her own turf, the decision to talk over coffee didn’t seem that daunting.

  Wearing her pink Pepto-Bismol uniform, however, did seem to put Bodie at a distinct disadvantage.

  With her shift over at the Diner around two, Bodie hung around until Julianne appeared in the doorway. The perky brunette wore a pair of floral shorts and a white top. She sent Bodie a wave and took a seat at the booth in the back.

  With the expert hand of a waitress who could juggle, Bodie grabbed a couple of Margie’s brown mugs off the tray, held them in one hand while snagging a fresh pot of coffee in the other. Heading Julianne’s way, she appeared at the table and began filling up the cups before sliding in across from the doe-eyed principal. “Thanks for coming. I know it was short notice.”

  “No problem. You said you wanted to talk about Oliver Tremaine. And any time I have an opportunity to help a student, especially one who’s been struggling, I make time.”

  “Glad to hear that.”

  “Has he been in trouble again?”

  Bodie told her about the hardware store door and the agreement to help pay for the damage. “The thing is Oliver got a job. He’s paid the first installmen
t. Thanks to Tucker opening up a dialogue with the uncle, Oliver has just adopted a dog. The thing we’re concerned about the most is that we want to make sure Oliver wouldn’t hurt the dog. The kid seems genuinely excited about having one. Personally, I can’t imagine he’d do anything to hurt Chewy. That’s the dog’s name. But since it was my idea, and since I only met Oliver yesterday, I feel the need to ask a person who probably knows him better than anyone else. Is the boy a bully, or is it mostly rumor and assumption?”

  Julianne took a sip of her coffee and leaned back in the booth. “How do I answer that? Let’s just say, the lower one sets the bar, the easier it becomes to sink to that level and stay there. If the expectations are always set low for a child, and that child has always heard how bad they are, eventually, that person will start to believe it, act on it, and live up to the low expectations. That’s Oliver. Have you ever known anyone who kept getting a bad rap and then started to act out on it, proving that it’s all true?”

  “Sure. I guess.”

  “Well, that’s Oliver Tremaine. He’s not a bad person. I don’t see him ever intentionally hurting a dog, but Oliver is often suggestible, impressionable. If anyone ever dared him to do something like that, he might just do it to prove he could. Look, he’s always stuck out from the other kids. They’ve treated him like an outcast, so he became an outcast. Do you see what I mean?”

  “Not really. Are you saying it’s the other kids who bully Oliver?”

  “No. Not exactly. But kids can be cruel. It’s a psychological advantage the other kids have over him. They band together and say certain things to Oliver that make him question himself. At times, a school playground can become a psychological warzone. If you’re always treated differently by your peers, soon you’ll start to act differently. If you’re always told you’re a bully and the other kids act like you are by running away from you for no good reason, you’ll eventually decide you’ll be scary enough and give those kids a reason to run.”

  Bodie frowned. “Why do you allow this to go on?”