Chapter 10 Noah
Chapter ten
Noah
My cab arrives at the veterinary practice where Rhys works. It’s less than fifty meters from his house, but it’s taken me nearly an hour to get from his front door to the practice entrance.
That's not including the four hours I spent texting and phoning two men I know are dead. The breadcrumbs I've scattered all morning were easy compared to this. I climb out of the cab, thank him for the ride, and take a deep breath.
It's showtime.
I enter the building, stepping into a crisp white waiting area, with cats on one side, dogs on the other, and the scent of disinfectant and warm dog fur hanging between them.
My brain instantly starts cataloguing escape routes. The front door behind me. A corridor to the left, consultation rooms to the right.
I don’t know if I’m checking for safety… or witnesses.
I walk to the large reception desk and smile at the woman looking back at me.
“Do you have an appointment?” She asks, eyeing my lack of a pet.
“Not really. Well, no. But I need one, I think.
I'm from a… well, I work in a kennel, but I don't know what to do.
The owners… I can't get hold of them. Honey is due to give birth, and I need a vet.
I didn't know who to call, but I watch Follow the Vet. I love it, actually. I need help, and I have no one else.”
“Are you saying there is a dog in labor?” The poor woman tries to dissect my acting masterpiece.
“Yes. I think. But they've just disappeared so I can't check and…”
“Name?”
“Honey.”
“Your name?” she clarifies.
“Noah Humphries.”
“Take a seat. I'll see if Mr. Calder will see you.”
“Thank you so much.” I smile and select an empty seat on the dog side of the waiting room. I'm back in yesterday's work clothes, and the beagle nearby is having a good sniff at the crook of my knee.
My leg shakes as I wait; nerves start to get to me. A lady steps out of a consultation room with a rabbit in her arms, briefly drawing the attention of the room before the normal blank stares return.
“Mr. Humphries?” Rhys's voice calls.
I stand slowly, clenching my hands into fists to stop them shaking. He looks exactly like he does on television. Clean. Professional. Kind eyes.
It’s hard to believe those hands were inside a man only hours ago.
“Oh, my goodness! It's an honor to meet you. I've watched all your shows. I listen to your podcast every night. Thank you so much for seeing me. I didn't know where else to go.”
“You mentioned something about early labor?” He asks stiffly.
“Uh yes. She's day 63.”
“Oh. Very close. Come in and tell me everything.”
I nod and approach him slowly.
“I can't believe I'm meeting the face of Follow the Vet!”
The door closes behind us, and his smile drops. “Did you make the calls?”
“And texts. Booked the ticket just as you said. Walked to the station. I got on the train at one end, went down three carriages and nearly knocked someone over getting off. Made a point to apologize profusely. Then got a cab here.”
“Well, you certainly played the part out there.”
“Doesn't everyone act like that the first time they see you? Hunky vet with the sexy voice?” I freeze, words tying in knots on my tongue. My brain desperately searches for a shovel big enough to bury that sentence. A slow, knowing smile creeps across his face.
“Are you saying…”
“I was guessing what other people would do, seeing you naturally, without their lives on the line.” I recover quickly, but it is already too late.
“So I'm here telling you about the dogs.
I'm just a kennel hand, pretending I rely on Derek and Frank for complicated stuff like whelping and nursing.
They've disappeared. I didn't see them all afternoon yesterday, but that happens; they have lives.
But they aren't there today, and I can't handle it alone.
You're a super vet. Can you help?” And forget I called you sexy.
“Have you called the police?”
“No, that wasn't part of the plan.”
“The plan is to pretend I don’t know that,” he says, scolding lightly.
“No, I could only think about helping the dogs, and you are the only vet I know.”
“Right. Action.” He moves to the door, his hand closing around the handle. “Stick to your role, okay?”
I nod and watch him walk out. He becomes every bit the TV vet in that moment; the reassuring expression, the straight back, the quick check of how the light hits him. His shoulders broaden, his smile widens half a degree, and suddenly he’s no longer the man who dissected two people last night.
He’s Dr Calder.
Television’s favorite veterinarian.
I fight back a chuckle and slip out behind him.
“Claudia, I have to deal with this emergency. Can you get Danielle to cover my remaining appointments, please?”
The receptionist nods and instantly follows his instructions. Rhys leads me into a communal office. I assume he has a private office of his own, and that picking this public space is part of the cover story, but I’m not used to having eyes on me.
“Martha, could you get this young man a coffee? He's had a stressful morning.”
“Uh. Tea,” I correct as the woman called Martha stands up.
Rhys picks up the phone. It’s one of those old ones with a base and a coiled wire running to the handset. I've only played with them in drama class back when I was at school.
“Hey, kid,” Rhys nudges me, the handset tucked under his chin. “I'm on the phone with the police. They're asking where the kennels are.”
“Oh, Maple Green Farm, Old Green Lane. Milford.”
“Do you know the postcode? They can't find a farm or kennels there.”
“No, sorry. They only gave me directions to the train station and then picked me up for the interview.” I was eighteen, young and stupid, just looking to survive.
“And you've been on the farm ever since?”
“Yeah. Board and lodging were included.”
Rhys frowns at me, his expression asking a question I don’t understand. For a moment I panic that I’ve said the wrong thing. That I’ve broken the story.
But then he nods slightly and continues talking.
My eyes trail off, taking in the bright and airy office space. Rhys continues the call while I take in a part of the practice never shown on television.
The handset returns to the base with a loud ping that makes me jump.
“Your telephone thing is cool.” I chuckle nervously.
“The police are going to transfer the report to the Milford police, who will investigate the address you gave us. But the fact that there is nothing registered is suspicious enough.” Rhys explains, addressing the entire room and the absent cameras, rather than just me.
“But as there are animals involved, they want a vet on the scene. I have offered to drive down with a team, and with you, to make sure the dogs are safe and well.”
“Oh, good.” I smile as the plan falls into place.
“Martha,” Rhys calls to the poor woman who has only just returned with my tea.
“Please inform all our clients in the waiting room that we are cancelling this morning's appointments.
Take their details and say we will run a late appointment system this evening, offering free consultations.
We're on a rescue mission. Tell them they can watch the whole thing when it is aired later.”
Martha hands me the tea and leaves. Rhys turns to Laura, a qualified nurse I recognize from a few episodes of the show. “Ask the staff who would like to visit what we assume is a puppy farm and get everyone willing to prepare both ambulances.”
He calls the television crew next, informing them of the amazing opportunity to film a police raid on an illegal puppy farm. I just drink my tea and wait, feeling dirty in yesterday's work clothes and worn boots against the pristine and organized veterinary practice rallying to my aid.
I almost wish I'd had the guts to do this while Derek and Frank were around to see their fall.
“I'm going to take you ahead in my car. The nurses will bring both ambulances, and the film crew will make their own way down. The police will have a warrant to breach the farm, search for your bosses, and we'll go in after to check on and remove the dogs.”
I nod, tired, thankful, and a little bit scared by all this fuss and attention going on around me. Watching him organize the chaos is mesmerizing.
Within minutes, the entire practice is moving like a well-trained pack.
And somehow Rhys is standing at the center of it all, like this was always how the story was meant to go.
Then suddenly, I'm guided towards a top-of-the-line Land Rover.
“Is this your car?” Somehow I pictured him abducting murder victims in something less obvious.
Once we are inside, I can breathe; me and Mr. Murderer alone for the hour's trip, but before I can get comfortable on the luxury leather seat, a cameraman jumps into the back. My stomach drops.
“Hey there, I'm Travis.”
Apparently the entire country is coming along for this ride.
“We're going to roll the camera, kid, and you just talk naturally. Pretend I'm not here and just tell Dr Calder everything about yourself and the situation.”
‘Pretend he isn't there’ is code for ‘remember the entire world is watching.’ While he expects me to tell the universe I was working on an illegal puppy farm.
Rhys jumps in, gives me a wink, and starts the meaty engine.
And I talk.
I talk like my life depends on it.
I start with my life before the puppy farm. I know in Follow the Vet they care about things like that. So my boring, uneventful life spills out. Only child. Parents were kind but never present. They never noticed when I stopped talking at dinner.
Animals notice things like that.
My parents worked. They provided good food every day, clothes when I grew, but they were never really there.
I loved animals, so I got my first job at a pet store.
I adopted all the stick insects with missing legs and kept them in jars in my bedroom to recover.
When I realized they bred like wildfire, I started selling them for pennies online.
I moved out, did animal care in college, and started my job search.
When I read an advert looking for someone to play with puppies, with board and lodging included, I took the train there. Got a lift to the interview. Moved in a week later.
I pause, glancing around the car, hoping I'm coming across as normal enough. Likeable after the world realizes I work on a puppy farm.
“Dr Calder, maybe you could ask a few questions about what the farm is like. Noah, you come across as trapped, only staying for the dogs rather than the money. We're going to paint you as the trapped kennel hand, not the villain. Viewers will love you.” Travis guides the conversation
“What money,” I chuckle to myself.
We obey Travis, with Rhys asking gentle questions. When did I realize it was a shady puppy farm? Why didn't I leave? Did I know it was wrong?
I reply with the truth. Nothing fake or pretend. Once I started there, I was trapped at the bottom of a mile-long dirt lane. I stayed for the dogs.
Then the question that hit the hardest. Why didn't I do anything before the owners went missing?
“I don't know.” I confess, hugging my knees. “I wanted to, but I was scared. When I realized I was alone, I didn't feel scared anymore. I had my chance, and I wanted to do it in the loudest way possible.”
Loud enough that no one could pretend they didn’t know.