Chapter 2 #3
“Only good timing as long as you’re not trying to munch down a sandwich or something in order to get enough energy to keep going.”
“That’s my life,” she muttered, staring down at the sandwich in front of her.
He laughed. “In that case,” he began, “do you have any connection at all to Jackson Russell, Sarge’s owner?”
“No,” she stated, “and I see no record of the dog ever being in here before at all. There was another vet clinic in town. However, it closed a couple months ago. So maybe that’s where Jackson took Sarge.”
“If he took him anywhere,” Wilden noted, not sure that Sarge was even brought to the other veterinarian. “I’m not getting anywhere in terms of finding out where Russell may have gone. I was just wondering if you had any ideas.” Then he hesitated and added, “And I owe you an apology.”
“An apology?” she asked, amusement in her tone. “I didn’t think we’d known each other long enough for you apologize to me for anything.”
He burst out laughing. “No, but I’ve just heard that you knew my father, and, from what I was told, he treated you very badly.”
She froze and then sighed. “I wondered if that was your father.”
“Don’t worry. I won’t take it personally.”
“Glad to hear it. I can see a bit of resemblance,” she pointed out cautiously.
“I hope not because we share nothing else in common between us besides a last name. When he came back, after avoiding me all my life, I left,” he explained.
“My grandmother wanted me to leave at the time because she was rather desperate to build a relationship with John, but it didn’t turn out to be a good thing. ”
“I’m sorry if she suffered at his hands.” Vivian sighed. “No way to put it but your father was not a nice man.”
“No, he wasn’t, and I did feel his fist anytime he came around while I was growing up. So, believe me that no love is lost there. I’m dealing with the funeral home too because Nan hasn’t.”
“Are you holding a ceremony or anything?”
“Nope. Hell no. I’ll figure out the most expedient way to deal with it and put it to rest. Apparently a lot of people really hated him.”
She winced at that and added, “I’m sorry. That’s got to be hard to hear.”
“Not particularly,” he admitted. “That was also my life experience with him. I just want to take care of what needs to be done and do what I can to get my grandmother back on an even keel. Dad spent all her money and didn’t even look after her most basic needs, so I have a lot to fix in that area too. ”
“Oh no,” Vivian cried out, “that’s terrible. Yet I guess I’m not really surprised.”
“No, I don’t think any of us are. It’s just more disappointment and more problems to deal with,” he noted.
“Anyway, I’ll let you get back to work. I know you’re busy, and I just wanted to see if you had any connection or could think of any place or anyone who Jackson may have gone to or may have known.
I talked to one neighbor, but he had no clue either. ”
“Right, and that’s so often the issue. I don’t know Jackson at all, except there was another … I’m sure it’s not related.”
“What’s not related?”
“Another older veteran went missing not too long ago,” she shared. “Nobody really understood what happened to him either. I guess I was just thinking of the similarities in the two cases.”
“Do you have a name?” Wilden asked, his tone right down to business.
She thought about it. “Hmm. Mark something. Mark Lindstrom maybe? I think that was his name. His daughter comes in here with her Frenchie sometimes.”
“I don’t suppose I could get some contact information from you.”
“I can give you her name but not her phone number because that would be confidential,” she stated. And then she quickly looked up her contacts. “However, she lives at the end of Brighton Street, so you can probably find out more from there.”
“I’ll go talk to her. Thank you.” And, with that, he disconnected.
She frowned and shook her head, thinking how two veterans going missing from this one small town in a short time period was two too many, particularly if the circumstances were suspicious.
That was the last thing she wanted to consider—somebody out there hurting veterans.
And, if somebody was the culprit, Vivian considered Wilden’s father as the prime suspect.
It just seemed like something he would do.
Something was very slimy about him. And to think that John was dead was a good thing, but not if somebody else was carrying on his nasty behavior.
She was damn grateful John was gone, but it seemed a lot of people were still hurting from everything John had done throughout his lifetime, particularly Wilden.
With that thought, Vivian had to get back to work. As she checked her roster for the next set of patients, she saw a man whom she hadn’t seen in a very long time, waiting for her. She smiled, greeting him. “Tom, how are you doing?”
He gave her a one-arm shrug. “I’m doing okay, but I’ve got a dog bite on my poodle here that needs looking after.”
She frowned and checked out the dog and nodded. “Yeah, I’ll need to clean this and get some antibiotics started. What dog attacked him?”
“I went to get another rescue,” he explained, “to give him a bit of peace and some companionship, but it didn’t turn out quite the way I expected it to. The other dog was a little more aggressive than we had been told.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry about that,” she said.
“That’s always rough, isn’t it? Dogs hurt because they’re in the shelter so long and aren’t getting enough attention and never get a chance to really get out.
So, when they do get free of their cage, they’re a whole lot more rambunctious and maybe more aggressive than anybody originally thought, all because they’re rather desperate for attention. ”
“I hadn’t considered it from that point of view,” Tom admitted, nodding at her, “but I guess that makes sense.”
“Think about it,” she suggested, with a shrug. “How many times did you feel stir-crazy when confined in some way for a long time? And when you finally got some freedom—”
“You’re right. That makes perfect sense. I was going to take him back to the shelter,” he admitted, “but you’re making me rethink it. I just can’t have him attacking my poodle though.”
She cleaned up the bites, the one spot in particular, and said, “It looks as if he’ll be okay. If you want me to look at the rescue dog, I can see if anything is medically wrong with him.”
“He’s in the car. So maybe,” Tom replied, but she heard doubt in his tone. “I just didn’t want to put my old guy here through this.”
She understood but also didn’t want Tom to send the other dog back to the rescue because she knew that chances were good for him to be euthanized before the day was out.
“Why don’t you bring him in and let me take a quick look at him?
I can assess his behavior a little bit and see how we feel about things and maybe try again in the future? ”
He looked at her and grimaced. “Doc, I got to be honest—”
“I know,” she replied, cutting him off. “You don’t want to try again, do you?”
He went red in the face. “It’s, … you know, a pretty big shock for us.”
“Of course. I am not judging anyone here,” she stated, with a kind smile. “Let me come out and have a look at him.”
He nodded eagerly and added, “I didn’t want to take him back to the rescue because I’m pretty sure they’ll put him down.”
“That’s exactly what they’ll do,” Vivian noted, “particularly if you’re returning the dog for being aggressive. They won’t take any chances.”
His shoulders slumped, and he nodded. “I just don’t think I can deal with this.”
As they walked out to the car, she took a look and immediately recognized another Malinois. She sighed. “That’s an interesting choice of a dog you wanted.”
“The rescue told me that it was a really good watchdog and should be a good companion for this one.”
She looked down at the teacup poodle he held and smiled.
“I wouldn’t have suggested a Malinois as a good companion necessarily for your dog, just because of the size disparity,” she pointed out.
“However, if one German shepherd was chosen as a companion for another dog of the same size, then at least the two of them wouldn’t be quite so vulnerable just because of size alone. ”
“That’s what I had thought too,” he admitted, with a grumble, “but then I felt so bad because this dog looked as if he just needed to get out of there.”
“I’m sure he did,” she agreed. “Do you have a leash on him?”
“I do.”
He brought the dog out of his car, and he was a young Malinois, from what she could see. She smiled as he sniffed around, looking for any freedom to call his own. “Let me take him inside, and I’ll see what I can do.”
He looked at her with relief. “And can you put today’s bill on my account?”
“Sure, not a problem.”
He patted his little dog and smiled. “Let’s go, baby.”
She walked back inside with the bigger dog, wondering what she had just done because it certainly wasn’t sensible.
Not when she knew that he’d already bitten another dog, but she could also see that he just needed some training, and he was so eager to get out and about, rather than being stuck inside.
The fact that the shelter had convinced Tom that this had been a good pairing just made her want to cry because no way did Tom or his little dog have the energy to handle a big active dog like this particular rescue.
Yet she also recognized that the center was desperate to move out some of these other dogs as well.
She kept the dog in her office for a while as she finished her workday.
On impulse, she called Wilden. When he answered, his voice was distracted. “Hey, I know you’re busy, but do you have experience with other dogs—besides the military K9’s?”
“Sure. Why are you asking?”