Chapter 19 Bodie
BODIE
My stomach clenched as I waited for her response.
In my experience, Lacey could be unpredictable.
At least she had been when she was younger.
She’d promise to stay behind so Luke and I could meet up with friends then always show up where she knew we’d be.
Hopefully she placed more value on her word than she had when she was ten.
I studied her, trying to figure out if she’d be on board.
“Fine.”
I exhaled, my breath seeping out like a deflating balloon. “Thank you.”
“I’m not doing it for you.” Her lashes fluttered as she blinked her eyes, drawing my gaze to the light smattering of freckles that still danced across her nose.
“I’m doing it for everyone else. The town deserves to know what’s going on and if holding off gives you a better chance to uncover the whole story . . .”
“It will. I promise.” I squeezed her shoulder then let my hand fall to my side.
Knowing Lacey wouldn’t spill the beans took care of one issue.
Now I had to deal with the more dangerous one—confronting my family.
I didn’t know much about cigars beyond the fact my dad always seemed to have one clenched between his teeth, but if what they were doing was illegal . . .
“I’m going to go grab a broom and sweep up this mess.” Lacey used her foot to nudge the broken pieces into a pile. “Hey, where did Shotgun go?”
I glanced to where the dog had been shredding the cardboard just moments before. “I don’t know. Shotgun!”
When the dog didn’t come right away, Lacey moved toward the end of the aisle. “Shotgun, come here, girl.”
“You go left, I’ll go right?” I asked, already heading in the opposite direction.
Lacey nodded before she disappeared around the corner. I turned the other way, peering down the aisles as I went. Where could the dog go? It’s not like she would have sniffed out anything edible in the mix of decorations and figurines.
“Found her.” Lacey’s voice came from a few rows over.
I followed, rounding the corner to see Lacey crouched over the poor mutt. Shotgun lay on her side, her tongue lolling out of her mouth.
“What happened?” I squatted down next to her, not liking the way the dog didn’t make any kind of effort to get up. My stomach churned as I ran a hand behind her ears. “Come on, girl.”
“I think she ate your evidence.” Lacey pointed to what was left of a chewed-up bundle of cigars. “Do you think the tobacco made her sick?”
“I don’t know, but we’d better get her to the vet.” I scooped Shotgun up in my arms. A giant pink tongue lapped at my cheek. Once. Twice. Then Shotgun panted as I tried to get a better grip. “Do you want to try Zina or should we find an emergency vet?”
Lacey must have already dialed. She held her phone to her ear. “She’s not picking up.”
“To the vet, then. Can you try to find the nearest one?” I pushed through the front door, Shotgun still in my arms.
Lacey climbed into my truck first then I laid Shotgun in her lap. “Hurry, Lacey.”
Her fingers tapped on her phone. “There’s one about forty-five minutes away. Just east of Swynton.”
“You going with me?”
“Of course.”
“All right, then.” I turned the key and threw the truck into drive. The beavers would have to wait. I’d become more attached than I thought I would to the pup Lacey held in her arms. More than I should have.
Lacey ran her hand over Shotgun’s side. “You’ll be okay, hon.”
I reached over to rub Shotgun’s belly, my hand nudging Lacey’s. She looked up and my heart bounced around in my chest.
“She’s going to be okay, isn’t she?” Lacey asked.
“Of course. They’ll probably just make her throw up. She’ll be back to her bad manners in no time.” To further prove my point, I covered Lacey’s hand with mine and gave it a squeeze.
Lacey nodded then turned her head toward the window.
She held tight to my hand though, making me all too aware of how fragile she suddenly seemed.
She’d lost someone close to her already.
Although, comparing the loss of her mom to her fear of losing Shotgun didn’t seem fair.
With luck and hopefully a talented vet at the emergency center, she wouldn’t have to go through losing anyone else. Not if I had anything to say about it.
By the time we pulled into the clinic, Shotgun had begun to shake.
I scooped her off Lacey’s lap and raced into the clinic.
Since we’d called ahead, someone met me at the door and ushered me back to a room right away.
Lacey followed, her face reflecting my own fear.
After everything the dog had been through, I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if something bad happened and I hadn’t been able to prevent it.
The vet tech got Shotgun settled on the table as the vet came into the room.
“Hi, I’m Dr. Yang.” She shook both of our hands then quickly got to work examining Shotgun. “Can you tell me what happened?”
I glanced to Lacey, then spoke up. “We think she ate a number of cigars.”
“What do you mean by ‘a number’?” Dr. Yang pressed a stethoscope against the dog’s chest then moved it around.
“I’m not sure. A handful of them. Maybe three to five?” I shrugged. “Is she going to be okay?”
“Nicotine is very dangerous for dogs, especially smaller breeds. But even a dog her size can be affected. How long ago did this happen?”
“About an hour,” Lacey said.
The vet nodded. “We’re going to give her something to make her throw up then probably start an IV to help flush out her system. We’ll be moving her to one of the back rooms so if you want to head out to the waiting room, I’ll let you know when we have more information.”
“Okay.” I ran a hand down Shotgun’s side. The dog looked up at me. “You’re going to be okay, girl.”
Lacey rubbed Shotgun’s head. “We’ll be right outside.”
I reached for Lacey’s hand, twining my fingers with hers as the vet tech picked up Shotgun and carried her out of the room.
“She’s going to be okay, isn’t she?” Lacey turned her gaze to me, her lower lip trembling.
“I’m sure they’re doing everything they can.” I wanted more than anything to reassure her, to tell her that everything would be just fine. But I didn’t want to be a liar. I rubbed my thumb over her knuckles. “Hey, why didn’t you ever get a dog or a cat when you were growing up?”
She glanced at me then dropped her gaze to where my hand wrapped around hers. “We had a cat, remember?”
All of a sudden, an image of a tiny orange-and-white tabby formed.
Shortly after her mom died, Lacey found a stray kitten.
She’d cared for that little cat like her life depended on it.
Looking back, it probably had. I’d been so busy then trying to be there for Luke while he grieved.
Neither one of us paid much attention to Lacey and her crusade to save the kitten.
She ended up losing it. The cat was too young.
“That’s right. You had that kitten for a little while.” I leaned forward, resting my elbow on my knee.
“Not long enough.” She reached up and swiped at her cheek.
Dammit, was she crying?
“Hey.” I let go of her hand and wrapped an arm around her shoulder instead. Pulling her close, I nestled her against my chest in an awkward, side-by-side hug. “It’s okay. Shotgun’s going to be fine.”
It was over almost as soon as it started. She sat up, sniffled, wiped the back of her hand across her cheek, and cleared her throat. “We never got another pet because . . .”
I waited for her to finish the thought. The way she was with Shotgun, hell, the way she was with people, I couldn’t understand how she’d never owned a cat or dog.
Lacey was a fixer. She took care of people.
I’d seen her go out of her way to help anyone in need.
It didn’t make sense that she’d never turned that toward a pet. “Because why?”
“Because pets die.” She looked up at me again. “They leave you and there’s nothing you can do about it.”
I thought about my own childhood pets: the coonhound who had a horrible sense of smell, the barn cat who was afraid of flies, and the various other small critters I’d kept. “You’re right. They don’t always live as long as we’d like. But when they’re around, it’s worth it, isn’t it?”
She stood. “I don’t know. Sometimes I think it’s better not to even put forth the effort if I’m only going to have my heart broken in the end.”
The harsh fluorescent overhead light cast half her face in shadow. “Lacey . . .”
“I’m going to wait outside.”
I made a move to stand, wanting nothing more than to hug her tight until all of her fear seeped out of her. That wasn’t a way to live—constantly fearing the loss of someone you loved.
“Can I just have a few minutes by myself?”
“Sure.” I sat back down, watching her disappear through the sliding glass doors, wishing I could do something to ease her heartache, and wondering how I’d manage my own if I suddenly found myself to blame for causing Lacey any pain.