Chapter 14
Chapter Fourteen
When I opened the door the next morning, the gift basket was still there.
With a sigh, I peeked through the cellophane to see what was inside.
If it had been purchased through a company, then maybe I could return it to that company, and they could figure out where their delivery person had gone wrong.
Except there was nothing I could see without opening it that indicated a theme.
There were chocolates, mixed nuts, hair ties and lotion. There was also a bottle of liquor and a bag of high-end coffee grounds—things that pretty much anyone might enjoy, but that certainly weren’t all coming from the same company.
My pulse ticked upward despite the ordinary contents.
My first thought—irrational, fleeting—was that it was meant for me.
A warning? A message? Or just a coincidence?
My eyes flicked to the edges of the balcony, the parking lot below.
Nothing moved. But the thought lingered, gnawing, even as I shook my head at myself.
Without touching it I examined it in the light of day, looking for any obvious signs that it was more than it appeared.
Once I was certain there wasn’t a bomb mechanism set to go off if I moved it, I picked it up and turned it around, looking for any other identifying features, but it was obviously handmade.
Whoever had sent this package—and whoever it was meant to be for—the contents had been personally selected and wrapped with care.
Someone had gone to the trouble of selecting, assembling, and wrapping this by hand.
I tried to remind myself that it was probably nothing, that worrying wouldn’t help.
But the rational voice in my head was faint, drowned out by the little knot of unease that had been tightening in my chest since last night.
Not wanting it to sit out on my doorstep all day and lure in somebody who might be curious, I brought it into the apartment.
Part of me wanted to open it, but if this was a gift for someone else it felt wrong to claim the contents.
And if it had been left specifically as a trap of some kind, a warning for me?—
Don’t be ridiculous, it’s just a gift basket I told myself as I set it on the counter, up as far away from Rogue as I could get it.
Of course, Rogue was so big that if he decided to jump up on the counter, there wasn’t much stopping him aside from my presence.
I resolved to put it out of my mind and get on with my day, starting with my morning run.
I had someone else to take care of now. Routine was just as important for Rogue as it was for me.
I had spent the morning—after once again being woken up by my neighbor’s rendition of a full cast marching band—doing research. I had a dozen videos on dog training, getting to know your foster dog, and how to handle a dog that was almost as big as you.
The conclusion I’d come to was that it was going to take a while for Rogue and me to figure each other out, but the more time we spent together, the more likely we would be to succeed. And my first step was to figure out which commands he already knew and which ones I would need to teach him.
Clipping his leash onto his new harness and stuffing a little bag of lamb lung into my jacket pocket, I was out the door with Rogue hot on my heels.
He kept his nose pressed up against the pocket where the lamb lung was as we made our way to the car, and I shook my head at his antics, opening the back of the car and gesturing for him to get inside.
He stood next to me, big brown eyes staring back as though he didn’t understand what I was asking him to do.
“Load up,” I said, hoping that someone else had already taught him the phrase and that this wouldn’t be one of those scenarios where I would have to give him a dozen treats every time I wanted to go somewhere just to get him moving.
Thankfully, he leapt into action and jumped into the back of the car.
“Good boy.”
I buckled him in with the safety belt that the pet store employee had recommended and then decided the first order of business was to get my check from Trick so that I could pay the rent that was due tomorrow.
Even with Trick paying me under the table due to my lack of proper documentation under this name, most of my pay would end up going to keeping a roof over our heads. But I had enough food for both Rogue and I to last a week, and we didn’t need much else.
Parking back behind the bar, I glanced between the back door that led straight into the kitchen and the dog in my back seat.
I hadn’t thought of this yet.
Animals weren’t allowed into the bar, let alone the kitchen, and it was likely to be busy at nine o’clock in the morning. There was nothing else for it. I would have to leave Rogue outside.
Cranking down the windows just far enough to make sure he was getting good airflow, I double-checked the weather app on my phone to make sure it wasn’t about to get so hot that a dog couldn’t be left on his own for five minutes.
Once I was satisfied, I closed the car door behind me and locked it, jogging off toward Mug+Shots to track down my employer.
The kitchen was exactly as busy as I had expected it to be, and when I popped my head out of the back to see if Trick was serving customers, I found that the breakfast crowd was filling up the space in a way that even the night owls never did.
There were at least a dozen kids, who all looked to be around twelve years old, sitting at several tables and making the loudest ruckus possible. Melody looked up from the register at me and smiled.
“Any chance you’re here as backup?” she asked as she gestured to the overflow of customers.
“Afraid not. Just here to talk to Trick. Have you seen him?” I asked, wincing in sympathy at her predicament.
“Not yet,” Melody said as she shoved a handful of straws into her apron and hit a button on the register that began printing the longest receipt I’d ever seen.
“He swore he was going to be here to help with this crowd today. I was about to call him, but I just haven’t had a second to do so.
Would you mind going up and letting him know just how hectic it’s gotten down here? ”
“Sure thing,” I said, heading towards the back door again before Melody called my name, drawing me back.
“Real quick, I know this is a long shot but is there any chance you would be willing to switch shifts with me?” she asked.
I glanced at the crowd of children with an eyebrow raised and she laughed a little.
“Not right now. The prosecutor on my case is asking me to come in as soon as possible, but between work and college classes I just don’t have enough time.
I was hoping you might be open to taking my morning shift tomorrow and I could cover the bar tomorrow night? ”
My thoughts went back to the kid I’d tackled in front of everyone. It was good her case was proceeding quickly. “I didn’t realize we could do that for each other,” I said, but what I meant was that I didn’t know if that was something Trick would approve of.
“I don’t particularly like bar tending, but I have the skills and the licensing,” Melody told me. “I can do it in a pinch, if I need to, and Trick was actually the one who suggested it.”
“I’m happy to trade,” I replied. “Especially if it means that man faces consequences for what he tried to do to you.”
“Thanks,” Melody said, even as she winced at the high-pitched sounds the tables full of children were making.
“There better not be a group like this tomorrow, or you’ll owe me more than one shift,” I told her before ducking out to check on Rogue again.
Then I took the stairs that ran along the back of the building two at a time and arrived at the landing outside the loft that took up the entire second floor.
I had only been in Trick’s apartment twice before—once when I first arrived in Bend to crash for the night before figuring out next steps, and once when a group of customers had come in acting a little too rowdy.
Jensen, the swing shift bartender that I had been working with that night, had sent me up to fetch Trick so that he could lay down the law when the group wouldn’t listen to either of us.
Knocking on the door, I waited a little longer than expected before he opened it—his reddish-brown hair mussed with sleep and only wearing sweatpants.
“Hale?” he asked as he found me standing outside his door.
With a guilty blush, I raised my eyes from where they had settled on his abs and met his questioning gaze.
“Uh,” I said, glancing away from him and back down the stairs. “You might want to put a shirt on. It sounds like Melody needs you down there. I was just here to pick up my pay for the week.”
“Right, of course,” Trick said as he ran a hand down his face and wiped at the corner of his mouth where some dried drool had lingered. Seeing that broke whatever spell had taken me at the sight of his half-naked body. I wrinkled my nose and looked away.
“I actually have your pay in the office. Just give me a second to get dressed and I’ll be right out,” he said.
And with that, he wandered back toward the bedroom.
Left standing in his doorway, I felt the strange awkwardness of not being invited in but having the front door left open.
The sound of voices murmuring behind the bedroom door kept me from wandering inside as I realized he must have a guest over.
I couldn’t make out who was on the other side of the door and didn’t know enough people in the area to make a guess even if I could.
“Come on then,” Trick said, returning, grabbing a beanie from off the corner of his couch and closing the loft door behind him.
I led the way down the stairs and as we reached the bottom I paused to peek in the window of my car at Rogue once more.
I was probably being overprotective, but I’d never had a dog before, and I wasn’t quite sure what was or wasn’t possible.
A part of me worried that he would have chewed through his leash to get out or even just to assuage boredom.
Instead, he was lying on the back seat, snoozing without a care in the world. I smiled at the sight of him.
“Who is this?” Trick asked as he came up behind me.
I glanced back at him and then jumped as Rogue suddenly began barking, becoming a whirlwind of limbs and agitation at the sight of us as he shoved his nose through the crack in the window, snarling.
Trick lifted his hands in surrender, and took a step back, but Rogue continued to bark over and over again.
“No,” I said, hoping that such a universal word would be enough to make him stop, but Rogue was out of his mind and not in the mood to listen. “Rogue, stop it. Settle.”
And just like magic, the dog went silent. He was still standing at attention on the back seat and staring right at Trick, but the moment I told him to settle, he had.
“Wow,” Trick said, and Rogue jolted at his voice, but didn’t pick up the barking again. “That’s a fearsome beast you have there.”
I glanced back and found that he was grinning at me, no sense of fear in his eyes or his body language.
Sure, there was caution, but there was also something else—a curiosity and sense of fearlessness that I was familiar with.
That combination was definitely what drew me toward active field work rather than settling for becoming an analyst.
“I just got him yesterday,” I explained, feeling a little helpless.
“We’re trying this out.” Just like the homeless man said, Rogue had gone from zero to a hundred in two seconds flat and there was no telling what had set him off or if I was going to be able to keep him under control if it happened again when he wasn’t locked away in the car.
“I’m still not quite sure what does and doesn’t work with him. ”
“Can I try giving him a treat?” Trick asked with far too much confidence considering the dog had just been snarling at him only moments before. I shrugged. If Trick wanted to risk testing stuff out on an unpredictable dog that was on him.
“You’re welcome to try, but I’m not taking responsibility if he bites your hand off,” I warned the man, handing him the bag of lamb lung. Trick only rolled his eyes and took the bag from me before stepping around me to get closer to Rogue. Rogue watched him intently but continued to stay quiet.
“Hey, boy,” Trick said in a soft, low voice. “You want to be friends? I bet you do. You’re a good boy. Oh, see? You’re a good boy, yes you are. Do you want a treat?”
Rogue’s ears pricked up at the word he loved the most. Trick passed a piece through the window and Rogue snatched it up, going completely docile once again as he whined for more.
“Want to chance it?” he asked as he moved a hand towards the door handle. I considered the buckle restraint that had Rogue attached to the car and nodded, heart pounding as I watched Trick open the door and reach out to let the dog sniff his hand. Then, he began to scratch behind Rogue’s ears.
“See?” Trick said to Rogue in the high-pitched tone usually reserved only for animals and babies. “We’re totally best friends. And you are a good boy.”
With a sigh of relief, I relaxed as Trick took another moment to give Rogue attention before closing and locking the door again.
Then we headed back into Mug+Shots and Trick ducked into the office before coming back out, handing me a white envelope filled with cash.
“You did good work this week,” he said, “I’m taking tomorrow off. Did Melody talk to you about covering her shift?”
I nodded.
“Okay good. I figure you have enough experience with customer service that you could handle it for one shift. I’ll be back for Friday night, but you’ll be on your own for a few hours then, as well.
The Tate Memorial starts at six, but I should be back before the weekend crowd gets too rowdy.
Speaking of, Gracie Shepherd drinks free, so don’t charge her even if she insists on it. ”
“I won’t,” I assured him. He gave a sharp nod and then he was off like a shot to help Melody tame the crowds.
Climbing back in the driver’s seat, I opened the envelope and pulled out my pay for the week, counting it out and then rolling my eyes when I found an extra hundred over what we had agreed on. I didn’t know how Trick kept his business open when he was giving away money, and food, and liquor.
Except, I realized, maybe I did. Forgery wasn’t the only crime he was involved in, after all.
Tucking the cash into my wallet I turned around and gave Rogue a scratch on his ears myself, proud that we had gotten through what I was afraid might have been a dangerous and persistent habit of attacking people. I knew he wasn’t a bad dog though, and he had proved that to me today.
Deciding that Rogue deserved to get a little exercise and playtime as a reward for good behavior, I punched the address of a local park into my phone, feeling like everything was finally settling into place and I wasn’t thinking about Lexi Tate at all.
Not one bit.