Chapter 13
Chapter Thirteen
“You’re back!” Effy said as I walked into the shop once again. “Hello, Rogue! May I pet him?”
“You can try,” I told her, watching as she dropped to her knees right in the middle of the store and offered out a hand for Rogue to sniff.
He lunged toward her and even though I was acutely aware that I didn’t know enough about this dog, he still caught me off guard, the leash slipping through my hands as he tackled the poor woman.
It was only her laughter as he licked her face that kept me calm enough to pick up the leash again and guide him off of her.
“I am so sorry about that,” I said, holding tighter and giving the dog a sharp look of disapproval. Rogue, for his part, looked unapologetic and unconcerned with what I thought about his behavior. “I’m not exactly experienced with dogs.”
“Not to worry,” Effy said, wiping dog saliva off her face like it was an everyday occurrence. Considering where she worked, it probably was. “Corsos can be pretty independent, but they’re total love bugs too. And it’s nice to see one whose ears and tail aren’t docked.”
“Oh,” I glanced at Rogue, trying to imagine what that would look like, but the idea of anyone docking his ears and tail caused a sharp spike of pain in my chest. Was that what had caused the kink in his tail?
Olivia had gone over his medical records with me, pointing out that he had come to them with the crooked tail and that it wasn’t medically dangerous, but she hadn’t speculated on how or why it was like that.
“Before I forget, here’s a welcome-in coupon,” Effy said, oblivious to my train of thought. “Five dollars off twenty-five for your next purchase, and since you just got him from the rescue today that means I can give you this other coupon?—”
As Effy continued to do her job, showing me around the store and telling me about the different types of collars and harnesses, dog foods and transition schedules, I felt a little overwhelmed.
I hadn’t planned to adopt a dog when I started out the day, but as I focused on the safety and happiness of another living being I was filled with a purpose that had been missing from my life, and I couldn’t bring myself to regret it.
Twenty minutes later Rogue sat in the passenger seat with his head out the window and his tongue lolling out as we drove down highway 97 towards home.
I’d never seen an animal look so happy about something as simple as a car ride before and I wondered how often other foster families had taken him for rides beyond trips to the vet and that first drive home.
I vowed to do it at least once a week if it meant seeing that tail wag with such furious joy.
I slowed as we approached the apartment complex and Rogue turned to look at me, still panting.
I knew it was merely a response to the heat but the way the corners of his mouth turned up as he breathed kind of looked like a smile.
I grinned at him and turned into the parking lot, pulling into my assigned space before putting the car in park.
Rogue whined as I rolled up the windows, shoving his face against the glass and leaving a streak of slobber behind.
“Hold on,” I told him as I unbuckled myself and moved around the car to open the passenger side door.
He jolted forward in an attempt to get out but I placed my body in his way, not sure just how far he would go if he left the car without a leash on.
At least I knew he would head South, if Olivia’s repeated warnings were right.
He poked his head around the other side of me as he tried to wiggle his way out. “Wait, stay!”
I didn’t know which of the two words got through to him, but Rogue quickly stopped attempting to jump out of the car and instead stood on the passenger seat, one of his back paws resting on the middle console, his whole body thrumming with the excitement of getting out of the car but holding himself back as he waited for me to give the okay.
I clipped the leash to his collar and grabbed the bag sitting in the footwell before stepping back and watching as he continued to stand stock-still aside from the tail that thrashed through the air and gave away just how much restraint he was using to obey my command.
“Okay, good boy,” I said, lightly tugging on the leash.
He bolted out of the car and immediately put his nose to the ground, sniffing the pavement as he caught some scent or another.
I glanced around as I locked the car, noting that Kenna hadn’t returned while I was gone.
Either she figured I would be in for the rest of the night when she left, or she had something more pressing to pay attention to than her brother’s somewhat suspicious new employee.
I let Rogue get a feel of the parking lot before gently guiding him towards the apartment door.
“I know it’s not much, but this is going to be your new home. ”
Rogue looked up at me, head tilted like he was listening intently, his adorable little floppy ears perking up as I pushed the key into the lock and swung the door open.
He trotted inside and immediately got to work sniffing the studio, which suddenly felt even smaller than usual with such a large dog taking up space.
I sniffed the air as well, the smoke smell still faintly lingering in the air. I had half a mind to go upstairs and confront my neighbors about their smoking habits, but one look at Rogue had me convinced to stay in for the rest of the night.
Closing the door behind me, I set the bag of Rogue’s old things on the counter and unclipped the leash, giving him free reign to explore.
With one eye on the dog, who seemed most interested in sniffing around the front door at the moment, I pulled out everything that had come with him.
An old rubber ball, a half-open bag of dog food, a little red collar with Rogue written on one side of the tag and a phone number on the other, and a newer-looking sasquatch toy that I recognized from when I spent time browsing the pet store that first day I’d gone in.
Deciding to keep the stuffed animal and throw away the rubber ball, I put everything back in the bag except for the dog food.
Slipping out of the apartment without letting the dog out was an interesting challenge, but it was much easier to keep him inside as I carried a big bag of his new kibble into the apartment along with the bag of toys and treats I had bought for him and a plastic bag containing my dinner for the night.
My wallet was hurting now, but my heart was full. It was a worthy trade, in my opinion.
Knowing there was no way I could eat my food first and expect Rogue to sit there and watch me, I set to work measuring out his old kibble and adding a little of the new kibble before setting his new dog bowl on the floor and watching with a smile as he scarfed down his meal.
Once the kibble was gone, I rinsed out the dish and filled it with water, making a mental note to buy another doggy dish with my next paycheck.
Pulling my Chinese take-away out of its bag, I wandered over to my bed and sat on the mattress with my back to the wall and my legs crossed.
Rogue followed me, standing at the edge of the bed with his head down as he watched me eat.
I raised an eyebrow, wondering if he was still hungry, if I hadn’t given him enough, but I’d followed the instructions on the bag for how much a hundred-and-seven-pound dog should be eating.
“What?” I asked through a mouthful of lo mein.
That seemed to be enough permission for him because Rogue scrambled onto the bed and circled around a few times before he was satisfied and settled down into a tight ball of fur and warmth right in the center of my bed.
I took another bite of food and stared at him, watching as he peeked up at me like he was still looking for assurance that it was okay to lay on the bed even after he’d already done so.
I reached out and ran a hand from the top of his head down his back and his tail twitched before settling again.
“You’re a good boy,” I assured him and he let out a little huff before closing his eyes. I let him be as I finished my food and pulled the two case files into my lap, plugging in the lamp and switching it on as the light from the window dimmed.
The sound of Rogue’s breathing soothed me as I ate, and I pulled my phone out, idly searching headlines for any news on Monica’s case. There was nothing that I hadn’t already seen or didn’t already know.
Boredom set in and I found myself thinking about the Benham trail again, and the woman who had gone missing off it.
Hiking the trail hadn’t satisfied the itch that I felt, the need to figure out what happened and to put Alexandra Tate to rest. If anything, it had only made me want to keep pushing at the edges of the case like a three-day-old bruise.
I typed in another search. Lexi Tate – Benham Falls Trail.
To my surprise, the top search result wasn’t an article about her disappearance or the phone that had been found floating in the water near the trailhead.
Instead, it was a video of a pretty Black woman who looked a whole lot like Gracie.
A little thinner in the face, higher cheekbones, but they had the same nose and the same hair.
I clicked on the video, curious.
“Hi, I’m Lexi Tate, and this is Tate of the Wild,” she said as it began to play.
She was holding a camera up, a little unsteady, but I could see the parking lot behind her.
The one I had just hiked that very morning.
“Today we’re at Benham Falls, an 8.7 mile out and back hike.
While this is one of my favorite hikes for beginners, it’s important to realize that a lot of the hikes along the Deschutes River connect together.
You can lose yourself pretty quickly if you aren’t paying attention to how far you’ve gone. ”
As she talked, she switched the camera to show the landscape, moving over a bridge that crossed the river and heading down the path, deeper into the trees.
I had walked that same path just this morning, had seen her missing person’s poster on the bulletin board for that trailhead. Or what was left of it, anyway.
I kept watching, listening to the rhythm of her voice as she explained the basics of hiking safety, how you were meant to let others know where you were going.
The video ended before her hike did but quickly switched to another in a playlist labeled Tate of the Wild.
She had all kinds of videos about survival, what to bring with you when hiking, how to turn things around if you were lost or injured.
The way she was filled with a passion for all things out-doors rang clear in her videos.
And they made it abundantly clear that Lexi Tate knew the Deschutes River Trail like the back of her hand.
I found myself lost in the videos, watching her bright smile even as my heart ached with the knowledge that despite all her knowledge and passion, she had gone out on that trail one day and hadn’t made it back.
Rogue was on his feet and at the door before I realized what was happening, his booming bark echoing through the room and spiking my heart rate as I dropped my phone and scrambled off the bed, rushing to his side.
“Hush, Rogue,” I admonished, trying to pull him back from the door, but he weighed too much and was barking so loud I doubted he could even hear me. He scratched at the door, his claws digging into the wood around it and leaving lines of damage in the paint. “No, no! Sit. Quiet!”
Nothing I tried was working and as I fought to gain his attention, I heard three sharp raps that sounded like the handle of a broom being used to slam against the floor of the apartment above me. I rolled my eyes at my upstairs neighbor’s antics. As if he had any room to complain about noise.
Still, the last thing I wanted was to be forced to give Rogue up because I couldn’t keep him quiet, so I quickly grabbed the leash and clipped it to his harness.
“Look,” I said as I swung the door open. “There’s nothing to bark at, okay? There’s nothing?—”
But there was something sitting on my welcome mat, the shape of it strange and unfamiliar in the shadows of twilight. Rogue barked once more before settling down and sniffing at the package, which I realized, as my eyes adjusted to the lack of light, was a basket wrapped in cellophane.
A gift, left at my door.
I looked out at the parking lot, searching for whoever had delivered it because they’d clearly left it at the wrong apartment, but there was no movement or signs of life.
Whoever had left the gift basket there was long gone and even Rogue seemed to agree as he lost interest and wandered back to the bed, stopping short as he reached the end of his leash.
He looked back at me, and I let the leash drop so he could make his way back onto the bed.
I stared down at the gift basket for a long moment before stepping outside and closing the door behind me, then bending down to take a peek at the gift tag attached to the package with a curling gold ribbon.
For My Light In The Dark,
Your Storm.
I wrinkled my nose at the vague wording and shook my head.
Whoever this package was meant for, it certainly wasn’t me.
Scanning the area again, I wondered if the delivery driver would realize their mistake.
Knowing better than to tamper with suspicious packages but having no other recourse, I decided to leave it where it was for now.
If it was still on my stoop in the morning, I would have to figure out what to do with it then.
Closing and locking the door, I crawled back into bed and set the case files aside, turning off the lamp and cuddling up with Rogue.
“You did a good job,” I told him as I realized that he’d alerted me to someone outside my door without even needing them to knock.
Taking him in had been the right choice for both of us, I decided, and maybe with a big scary dog in the apartment to warn me if anyone was coming, I could finally let myself relax.
But sleep came in fits, uneasy dreams stitched together with shadows and flashing lights.
I woke up in the middle of the night and just stared at my ceiling for an hour, listening to Rogue’s soft snores.
My mind wandered back to the basket. What if it wasn’t a mistake and someone really had left it for me? But that was impossible…right?
I told myself it was probably nothing. That I was being irrational. Yet even as my eyes drifted closed again, the unease lingered, a faint buzzing at the edge of my mind that kept me from truly getting a full night’s rest.