Chapter 1 #3
She nodded. “I’ve been thinking that this whole time, and it’s one of the reasons I was so anxious to get somebody here to help. I don’t have the capacity to just wander around and help him look for Mr. Russell, so I was trying to get somebody who would.” She added, “Seems as if you’re it.”
The man pointed to the War Dog. “I will definitely take Sarge off your hands, and we’ll let Kat know that I’ve got him. Then I’ll take him back to Jackson’s place and figure out what happened. The fact that Jackson has disappeared is extremely worrisome.”
She frowned at that and asked, “He’s older, isn’t he?”
“Yes, and these two have been together for a few years.” He looked over at Sarge and added, “Sarge is probably eight years old at this point.”
She turned to the huge Malinois and noted, “He’s got the energy of a much younger dog.”
“I think he has the urgency of somebody much younger,” he clarified, studying the animal, stroking Sarge’s head. “Do you happen to have a lead I can borrow? I promise I’ll replace it.”
“Sure,” she replied, as she got up and walked over to one of the supply cabinets, quickly bringing out a brand-new leash, and handed it to him.
He unraveled it, stretched it out, clipped it onto Sarge’s collar, who really wanted to be outside the clinic.
“I’ll take that as a sign that he wants to go with you,” she noted, with a laugh, “because he hasn’t been this happy the whole time with me.”
“I wouldn’t take it personally,” he replied, with a grin. “I’m pretty sure it has everything to do with the fact that he’s worried about Jackson.”
She frowned and nodded. “That’s so sweet, and I appreciate his loyalty.”
“I think it’s more than even loyalty,” he noted. “War Dogs have seen a lot, and I think Sarge is genuinely concerned that something is really wrong, which is why I’ll head over to Jackson’s place right now.”
“I did talk to the police about that,” she told him, “because Sarge’s behavior was so obvious and so difficult.”
“Of course,” he agreed, “but the police probably didn’t say very much, did they?”
She winced and then shook her head. “No, they really didn’t.
I was disappointed.” He didn’t say anything, just nodded.
Giving him an intent look, she asked him, “Are you from around here?” He was a handsome man with a towering presence that was somewhat intimidating.
He also wore a brooding expression that made him look rugged and mysterious.
“I used to be,” he told her, a smile on his face. “I spent a lot of my childhood and teenage years here.” He frowned and added, “I hate to say it, but I don’t remember you. Are you from here?”
“I’m relatively new, so, if you were here as a child, it was before my time,” she replied, with a laugh. “I’ve been here about five years now. So, for the old-timers around here, that makes me a newbie.”
He burst out laughing. “That is true. However, everybody was a newbie once.”
With that, she nodded, then led the way out to the front door.
As he walked toward his vehicle, he looked back at her. “Has anybody been around asking about the dog?”
“No.” She shook her head. “That’s another weird thing. We thought for sure somebody would have known something about Jackson or Sarge and would have cared enough to even ask, but there’s been nothing.”
He just nodded and didn’t say anything.
“That’s not surprising you, is it?” she asked him.
“People here tend to stick to their own, as I’m sure you’ve found out. Yet it sounds as if you’ve managed to establish yourself in town,” he pointed out, “so good for you. Where were you from before that?”
“I was just outside of New York, but I decided I’d had enough of the big-city rat race and wanted a smaller, quieter location,” she shared, with a smile.
“And did that work out?”
“It did, though this might be a little smaller and quieter than I intended.”
“Why?”
“It’s hard to get to know people. I mean, when you have one of the main businesses in town, you meet a lot of people, but you don’t have much time to get to know anyone.
” She shrugged. “There’s always that thought in the back of my mind that maybe I should have moved to someplace bigger.
Yet I love it here,” she confessed. “And it’s been really good for me. ”
“Good,” he said, as he looked down at Sarge, who sat impatiently but still under control at his feet. “I’ll let you know what I find.”
“Thank you.” She watched as the dog jumped up into the back seat of an older sedan but then quickly made his way to the front seat, where he sat, looking as if he were completely in control.
She laughed as she watched the two of them argue over the dog’s position in the car, only to have the man smile and shrug, realizing that’s probably where Jackson let Sarge sit in his vehicle.
She watched as he pulled away. This man had been one of the most interesting people she had met in a very long time.
Then she gasped. She hadn’t even gotten his name, which, for her, was unusual.
She’d been so grateful to have somebody come deal with the dog that she hadn’t even done her due diligence.
She frowned at that and immediately phoned Kat.
As soon as Kat answered, Vivian began, “So your man came and picked up the dog. But I would feel even better if I’d at least gotten his name. ”
“Perfect,” she replied. “That’s Wilden, and I am sure he’ll be a good influence on the War Dog. He has a lot of experience with animals.”
Wilden. She tucked that name away in the back of her mind. “He seemed to take control of the situation very quickly,” she noted. “It made me feel as if I didn’t know anything about dogs.”
“You obviously know a lot medically about dogs,” Kat clarified, with a chuckle, “but that doesn’t mean anything when handling War Dogs. They are a completely different animal.”
“Apparently,” Vivian muttered, still in awe over how quickly Wilden had taken control of the unruly and upset Sarge. “I am very grateful that somebody has come and taken charge of Sarge.”
“Good. Leave it to Wilden. He’ll do what he can for Sarge.”
“That much I know.” She added, “Thanks again.” As she disconnected, she wrote his name down because it was a very unusual name, not one that she expected to hear in terms of this town, which was full of Johns and Joes and Jims. When she went to search for him on the internet and didn’t have his last name, she paused.
Yet she did have Wilden.
And, surprise, surprise, even with just that, and identifying his hometown, her search came up with a hit from a long time ago, part of some investigations into mischief and some disorderly conduct.
As she checked the last name that came up, Hookman, all kinds of bells rang because one of the men in town who had caused her all kinds of trouble since she had arrived in town was a Hookman.
Yet she couldn’t find any connection between the two, at least not physically, certainly not personality-wise, at least nothing that she could sort out herself.
Still, that last name alone was enough to make her take a mental step back.
With a harsh whoa escaping, she told herself to calm down because no way she needed to get involved with anybody connected to that jackass who had given her so much trouble.
She shook her head at her bad luck. To have somebody like that jerk John make her want to shun a perfectly wonderful Wilden was so unfair.
This town only had so many people, and the interesting ones seemed to all be taken. At least, that was Vivian’s opinion. She quickly locked up and headed to the grocery store, where she needed to get something for dinner and more groceries for the animals she had at home.
She had two cats at home that had recently had surgery and weren’t eating that well, so she had to pick up something they might be more interested in.
As she wandered through the store, she sensed it with a different awareness today, as if something had changed.
Sounds were brighter; noises were louder.
It was an odd feeling, as if everybody were on tippy-toes, waiting for something to break. When she got up to the cashier, the clerk gave her half a smile and quickly rang up her items. As Vivian loaded her groceries into her recycled bags, the cashier asked her, “You doing okay?”
Surprised, she turned to her and smiled. “Yeah, I think so. How about you?”
She shrugged, then smiled. “Yeah, I think so. Feels odd though.”
“Why?” Vivian asked.
“Just knowing that he’s dead.”
She stopped in her tracks, frowned at her, and asked, “Who’s dead?”
The woman stared at her. “Don’t you know?”
“No.” She knew the cashier, having seen her most times when Vivian came to this store.
The cashier nodded. “Remember that guy you had so much trouble with?”
She frowned. “John? John Hookman?”
“Yeah, John Hookman,” she confirmed. “He’s dead.”
She froze. “What?”
“Yeah, it’s been about four days or so now.”
“I didn’t know. Wow, I’ve just been extra busy at work,” she explained. “I had no idea.”
“It’s a good thing,” she declared. “He won’t be bothering you anymore. His son’s back too,” the cashier supplied. “Everybody’s talking about it.”
“Why?” she asked.
“His father ran him off. At least that’s the story. He chose to go into the military to get away from his father. At some point John moved in on his mother and has been making her life hell too. Until now.”
Vivian didn’t know what to say to any of it, but the cashier’s reaction seemed to be set off by this event, as if some major news. “I guess that’s maybe a good thing for John’s mother,” Vivian noted hesitantly.
“Oh, absolutely, but I don’t know if John’s son will be good news or not.”
She frowned at that and suggested, “I would think it would be good news.”