5. The shoe fit a lot better than I’d anticipated.
FIVE
The shoe fit a lot better than I’d anticipated.
Bailey
What had I done? Why had I called Quinn? I stared at my new phone, astonished I’d babbled so much without spilling the beans about our road trip. His reminder about our mystical ball and chain helped.
He knew I’d never betray him.
He just had no idea I’d run away from home for more than a few hours.
He’d forgive me. Probably. Hopefully. Maybe. At least he’d forgive me enough he wouldn’t seek a divorce for running off with his cop’s wife.
Perkette whipped her bra at the cops, and the idiots laughed. Granted, I couldn’t blame them. I hadn’t dubbed Perkette her name because of her breasts, but the shoe fit a lot better than I’d anticipated. I had no idea how her breasts defied gravity, but they did a damned good job of it.
I assumed magic was somehow involved.
Sighing, I considered how best to put an end to her behavior. “Perkette, you’re married. You wouldn’t cheat on Perky because you know I’d shove my horn up your ass. Put your damned clothes on and stop resisting arrest.”
“I wouldn’t call it resisting. I’m entertaining. Look! They’re entertained.” Perkette hopped off the table. “Heaven forbid you drive too late at night. All right, all right, I’ll get dressed.”
“Behave, Perkette. I mean it. You land anything other than a misdemeanor, and not only will I never make you coffee again, I won’t renew my pixie dust license.”
“You play dirty.”
I smiled. “I’ve only just begun. Clothes back on, Perkette.”
She even put her bra back on first, much to my amazement.
While she dressed, I counted cops. After six, I figured they could spare one if I asked really nicely.
“Excuse me, but I don’t suppose one of you could accompany me?
I’ve never been here before, and snails outrun me when I drive in the snow.
Frankly, it’d probably be faster to walk. ”
“You can follow me, ma’am,” the young cop who’d arrived to the scene first replied, and his eagerness confirmed my suspicion he was fresh from schooling and ready to prove he could handle any task.
The new cops were always so cute in their enthusiasm.
A cop ripe for retirement sighed, and I pegged him as the poor bastard saddled with keeping an eye on the green recruit.
“Thank you. Do you want to wait for them?” I glanced at Perkette, who was taking her time adjusting her clothes, meticulously checking her purse, and charming the other cops.
If she’d been the type, she probably could’ve talked them all out of their clothes, too. Fortunately for everyone, she wasn’t.
Perkette was a lot of things, but she worshipped the ground Perky walked on. She just would rather chew glass and rusty nails before admitting it. When I thought about it, we were birds of a feather.
The pair chuckled, and the young one shook his head. “No. We’ll go ahead and meet them at the station. Don’t drive often in the snow?”
“Not really. My husband is the one who usually drives, or I take a cab. He keeps threatening to make me take stunt car driver lessons.” I shrugged. “I just don’t want to be in an accident.”
Both cops grinned, and the older one replied, “It’s refreshing to meet a safe driver. Take your time. We’ll wait if you fall behind. The roads should be quiet tonight.”
I left Perkette to fend for herself, claiming the keys to the rental on my way out of the club. The snow had worsened, and I wondered how I’d make the drive without shaking to pieces or otherwise making an idiot of myself. Damn it, why couldn’t I drive like a normal person?
My lack of experience driving in the snow took most of the blame while my fear of disappointing Quinn accounted for the rest. If I drove through the snow like a normal person without hitting anything, he’d be happy.
My husband really needed to raise his standards a little.
In what I could only classify as a miracle, I made it to the police station without incident.
Snow drifted into absurd piles in the station’s parking lot, promising we’d need the shovel the rental company had stashed in the trunk at Perkette’s request if we lingered for too long.
I took the spot near the dumpster, which was somewhat protected from the wind.
Drawing a cleansing breath, I killed the engine and slid out of the vehicle.
Nearby, an animal whined, and as cats meowed and I didn’t want to know what racoons sounded like, I assumed a dog had taken shelter near the bins. Stray dogs got me in trouble. Before Quinn, I’d hated myself for ignoring a dog in need. Quinn had changed everything.
Since marrying him, I’d been treated for rabies seven times, a city-wide record.
Maybe if I stopped getting bitten or slobbered on by the strays I rescued, I wouldn’t need to be treated for rabies so often.
Quinn would mourn my lack of self-preservation skills, but I couldn’t leave a dog to freeze in the snow.
Quinn would forgive me. He always did.
I checked around the dumpsters without locating the source of the whining.
Well, shit. I’d have to go dumpster diving again.
Yippee.
“Ma’am? Is everything okay?”
I gave it two months before the green recruit lost his enthusiasm, realizing he’d signed up for an exhausting job and that people like me, who courted trouble at every turn, existed.
Since he’d hover if I didn’t answer him, I replied, “There’s a dog in the dumpster.
It’s too cold out here.” I dropped my purse, jumped, and scrambled over the metal ledge to peek inside.
A squirming, snow-covered bag guided me to the source of the whining.
Fuckers. I hated people who dumped animals, especially in the sort of thick plastic bags they’d ultimately suffocate in without help.
Teetering on the dumpster’s edge, I stretched and snatched the bag.
It weighed a startling amount, heavy enough I strained to move it.
Why wasn’t I allowed to transform and light animal abusers on fire?
Wiggling out of the dumpster with my bag full of unhappy dog, I retrieved my purse and carried the wiggling plastic bag into the station.
I claimed the nearest plastic chair in the lobby, set the animal on my lap, and freed it from its plastic prison.
A single white puppy cried its distress, staring at me with one pale blue eye and one emerald eye.
Perkette wouldn’t mind the addition of a puppy on our road trip, would she?
“Another one?” the young cop sighed. “That’s the fifth one dumped here this week.”
Stupid, heartless animal abusers. I couldn’t just add myself to the list of people who’d abandoned the poor thing. “How long does it take to book a brassaulter?”
The cops exchanged looks, and I bet they believed I’d lost my mind. I probably had.
“I’d like to take the puppy to a vet while you deal with her.”
The older cop relaxed, and he grinned. “How long do you want us to keep her, ma’am?”
“Long enough for me to take my new puppy to the vet.”
Both cops laughed, and the older one pointed at the door.
“The 24-hour vet is next door. Turn right when you reach the sidewalk. The building looks just like ours, but they have the better sign. We figure whoever is dumping the unwanted pets here can’t tell the difference between a police station and a veterinarian. I’ll dispose of that bag for you.”
“Thanks. Give Perkette a hard time for me, but I’d really appreciate if you kept her charges to misdemeanors.”
They laughed, and I left the station to take the puppy to the vet and learn if we needed to be treated for rabies. Quinn would love if I needed to be treated for rabies again.
Thanks to the invention of neutralizer, rabies treatments no longer involved a series of wretched needles.
Guzzling an obscene amount of pink, sparkling fluid wasn’t my idea of a good time, and I’d have to do the guzzling twice a day for a week, but I’d emerge hale and hearty—assuming the neutralizer didn’t send my immune system packing again.
So far, it hadn’t, but I wasn’t going to hold my breath. Quinn could handle a lot, but he freaked if I contracted even a mild case of the sniffles. My hospitalization with every plague known to man and pneumonia had something to do with that.
Personally, I wouldn’t mind a visit from the various Quinn models.
I still hadn’t gotten the sneaky bastard to wear a suit for me yet, but I’d caught him in his dress uniform a few times.
The dress uniform caused us both problems. I developed a severe case of lust, and he developed a severe case of not wanting to leave for work.
The first three times I’d made him late for work because he’d been wearing his dress uniform had resulted in him leaving with his dress uniform in a bag so I wouldn’t be tempted into stripping him out of it.
Sometimes, I was a bad wife.
The puppy handled the walk to the vet better than anticipated, although the poor thing shivered and kept trying to bury its head under my arm. “Don’t worry, baby. You’ve got this easy. You get one treatment and you’re done.”
The storm ensured sane people stayed indoors, resulting in an empty clinic. The older man behind the front desk cocked a brow when I strode towards him.
“I found this puppy in a dumpster. I’m betting ten bucks it’s rabid, but half the dogs I’ve dug out of a dumpster in the past two months have been rabid, so if we could start with the rabies test and the neutralizer torture, that’d be great.
I’m paying cash, and I’d like the full assortment of vaccines.
Also, I’m going to need all the basics for a puppy, an idea of what its breed and gender are, and a really good excuse to give my husband. ”
“Rabies has been rampant lately. We’ll assume a positive result and treat you both.”
Score. Quinn would be so happy when I called him. “I’ve been treated before, and I’m CDC certified, so I can administer the treatment myself. I’ll just buy the neutralizer supply from you. My license is in my purse.”