CHAPTER 30
Jannie
“OK, take it off. Let me see it.”
“Not here.”
“Why not?” Sarah’s disappointed voice came from the car’s sound system.
Jannie glanced at her cell, mounted on her car phone holder, to see her friend’s pouting face. “Patience. I’m almost home. I’ll show it to you when I pull into the driveway.”
“Tease! You can’t just show it in its dust bag and expect me to wait!”
“Sorry, babe, safety first.”
Ignoring Sarah’s huff, she turned onto her street, slowed down, and waved to a neighbor crossing with a tiny Chihuahua in a shiny pink jeweled harness.
Jannie laughed softly.
“What?” Sarah asked.
“My neighbor. He’s walking Taco Belle.”
“The big guy with the Chi?”
“The very one.”
Sarah laughed. “Gotta love a man who isn’t embarrassed to be seen on the end of the leash with that size dog.”
Jannie smirked. “That’s a dog?”
“Don’t be a dog snob, now.”
Jannie smiled. “OK.” In front of the neighbor’s house, she spotted an old shit box of a white Subaru that had no business still being on the road.
Huh. She hadn’t seen one of those since she was little.
She swung into the driveway and put the Porsche in park. “OK, here she is!”
She slipped the bag out of the soft flannel and turned it this way and that, showing Sarah the soft, crinkly leather with its whimsical fairy illustrations and opening the top zipper to reveal the smooth pink leather interior.
“I’m so jealous,” Sarah said. “That looks as if it was never carried!”
“The lady says the woman who brought it in was afraid to mess it up and never took it out. All she did was pull it from its dust bag and stare at it, then put it back in her closet.”
Sarah shook her head. “Ridiculous. As Elvis said, wear your beautiful things! Things can’t be beautiful if no one sees them.”
“My gain,” Jannie said, running her fingertips over the top handles. “This was a steal.”
She scanned the front windows and the door lights.
Rolf, who usually dashed to the entrance barking excitedly before she even reached the driveway, wasn’t at the window.
He wasn’t at the door, either. All she heard was the cawing of the annoying crow that always yelled at her from the tree across the street.
Jannie frowned. Where was Rolf?
She shoved the Prada back into its sleeper. “OK, babe. Good chatting. Gotta go.”
“Why? Is something wrong?”
“I don’t see Rolf at the window.”
“Could he be outside?”
“Yeah, he could be.”
But usually, he heard her car approach and ran back inside to greet her at the door.
“If something’s weird, do not go in the house! Call the police!”
“Don’t worry. Maybe he has the shits.”
“From what? You never leave anything out for him to get into!” Sarah paused. “I’m calling the police.”
“No, don’t do that.” She wasn’t having that scenario happen again.
“At least have 911 already dialed so all you have to do is hit send.”
Her friend was a worrywart. “Good idea. Gotta go.”
She heard Sarah call out, “Be careful!” as she tapped end and unbuckled her seat belt.
Not bothering to put her car in the garage, she hurried to the side door and punched in the code. “Rolf!”
No response.
She clapped her hands.
Nothing.
Frowning, she kicked off her shoes and tossed her key fob into the bowl on the entryway bench.
She headed down the hallway.
And spotted him curled up in the middle of the kitchen.
Her stomach dropped.
“Rolf!”
He didn’t move.
No, no, no.
Somehow, Jannie’s feet carried her to him, and she crouched beside the dog, her heart in her throat. Leaning in, she lowered her head close to his nose and placed her palm on his big, furry chest.
Rolf was breathing, his heartbeat steady and strong.
Her shoulders sagged as relief washed over her, and for a moment, Jannie rested her forehead against him, her heart still pounding, inhaling his familiar doggy scent. “I’ll never complain about your stink again,” she murmured.
Rolf raised his big head then, blinking and gently wagging his heavy tail, and Jannie swallowed back a sob.
“Rolf! Oh, thank God.” She didn’t even yell at him for licking her face. “Go drink!”
On wobbly legs, he got up and staggered to his nearby water bowl, noisily lapped some, then stretched out beside it with a groan, closing his eyes again.
What the hell was wrong with her dog? She needed to get him to the vet ASAP.
Blanket. She needed a large blanket to wrap him up and carry him.
Outside, in the patio storage box.
Jannie rushed to the sliding glass door, unlatched it, and yanked it open.
Music filled her ears, a strange, twangy melody.
“In … and out. Deep … and slow. Inhale. Now, hold it. Absorb the energy of the world around you.”
What the hell?
And then, she saw him. He lay on one of her lounge chairs, his body glistening with oil.
Sunning himself in only a bright yellow Speedo.
“Blake!”
He paused the music blaring from his iPhone. His smile was slow, eyes hooded. “How are you, Jannica?”
Something was off about him. And the Blake she knew would never be caught dead in a Speedo. No time to spare him a second glance, though.
Rushing to the storage box, she opened it and grabbed the blanket. “What are you doing here?”
“I came to see you, of course.” Blake ran a hand over his shiny abs. “It’s been too long.”
“Not long enough.” She hadn’t missed him for a single day.
“I can’t believe you changed the locks.”
“Believe it.” She clutched the blanket to her chest and started to head back inside.
“Where are you going?”
“Something’s wrong with Rolf,” she said over her shoulder. “I need to take him to the vet.”
Blake snorted. Then, he laughed. Loudly.
Jannie clenched her teeth. The man had the audacity to come here uninvited, and now he was laughing at her dog being sick?
“Nothing’s wrong with your precious dog.” Blake spat out the word dog in a way she’d never heard from him before.
Jannie stopped in her tracks. “What?”
“I said nothing’s wrong with him. In fact, I’m sure he’s feeling pretty good.”
She turned. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“He was being obnoxious. Kept bringing the ball and pushing it into my leg, so I gave him a mood pill.”
Jannie gawked at him. “Mood pill?”
“Yeah.”
Rage exploded in her chest. “What the hell did you give my dog?” She was shrieking now. She didn’t care.
Blake blinked, his eyes oddly expressionless. “Relax, jeez. You’re making my head hurt.”
Jannie stormed up to him, leaning in to look directly into his face. “I’ll hurt much more of you if you don’t tell me what you gave him. Right now.”
He stared up at her with red eyes, his pupils dilated. “Nothing that can harm him. He’s chillin’.”
“Chillin’?” she repeated. “What. Did. You. Give. Him?”
Blake hesitated. She grabbed the front of his Speedo and pulled it up.
“Ow!” He tried to shove her hand away. “It was just a Xannie!”
“Xannie?” Panic gripped her throat. “Xanax? You gave him Xanax?”
“Yeah.” He smirked. “Looks like you need one too.”
“How much did you give him?”
“One.”
“You’d better be telling me the truth, Blake.”
“I am. Come on, I wanted to get him to calm down, not kill him.”
“Where is the prescription bottle?” She twisted the yellow fabric.
“In my pocket! Damn, woman, my balls!”
Somehow, she resisted the urge to slap him and forced herself to let him go, grabbing his pants from the chair beside him and rummaging through his pockets until she found the orange vial.
She rounded on Blake. “You need to leave. Right now.”
“Why?”
She didn’t have time for this. She pointed. “You have two minutes to walk out that gate. Don’t come back. Ever.”
Whirling around, she hurried back inside, relieved to see Rolf raise his head and wag his tail as she stepped through the sliding glass door.
“Good boy,” she said softly, bending to caress his ear.
He’d made it to his dog bed. That was good.
Grabbing her phone, she thumbed through her contacts and found Rolf’s veterinarian, who, fortunately, was also a good friend.
Marti answered on the first ring. “Hey, Jannie! Long time no—”
“I need your help.” No time for pleasantries.
“What’s up?” Marti immediately sounded concerned.
“Blake gave Rolf Xanax.”
“He gave him what?”
“Xanax. Alprazolam tablets. 0.25 milligrams. I have the bottle right here.”
“How is he looking?”
“Sleepy. Bit of ataxia. I got him to get up and drink some water.”
A pause. “OK. First, take a deep breath for me.”
“OK.”
“Are you positive that’s what he gave him?”
Jannie’s fingers tightened around the prescription bottle. “Yes.”
“You’re sure he only gave him one?”
She could always tell when Blake was lying. “I’m sure.”
“Good. He’s a German Shepherd; that’s a lot of dog. He ingested one Xanax. If he were a Chihuahua, it would be different.”
“What do I do?”
“Now, you know I’m obligated to tell you to bring him in,” Marti said. “But as long as he’s breathing OK and conscious and you feel comfortable watching him throughout the night, you can monitor him at home. If he starts to show any other symptoms, you’ll need to take him to the emergency vet.”
Jannie’s shoulders relaxed. “OK. What should I expect?”
“A very sleepy GSD.”
“That’s it?”
“Pretty much. There could always be adverse reactions, but you can watch for those.”
“How long before he returns to normal?”
“Twenty-four hours, thirty-six at the most. Just keep an eye on him and let him sleep it off. He probably won’t want to eat tonight.
Don’t worry about that. He’s going to wake up very hungry but will still be ataxic in the morning.
A bit sleepy when not interacted with until the afternoon. But he should be OK.”
Jannie finally exhaled. She rolled her shoulders. “Thank you, Marti. You’re the best.”
“Of course! That’s what I’m here for. And don’t be such a stranger. Let’s do lunch soon.”
“Sounds good.”
“Oh, and tell Blake he’s a douche.”
Jannie smiled. “Thanks again.”
She ended the call, then went to Rolf and gently massaged his thick neck. “You’re gonna be just fine, pupper.”
Rolf groaned and nuzzled her palm. Poor dog. Her stomach clenched at the thought of what Blake had done to him. Moreover, she couldn’t believe her ex had shown up here again.