Authors: Mimi Barbour
Guts twisting caught Liam off guard. Seeing his father looking so like his old self brought back memories he'd forgotten. The times his dad had put down his briefcase to go and help him fix his bike rather than leave for the office. Or when he'd sat on the stairs to listen while Liam had poured out his problems, help with the homework he couldn't understand. Even when a girl had kissed him by the lockers and he hadn't known how to handle it, what to say to her or what she expected, the ole man had been there for him. How could he have forgotten?
He knew how. His mother's screams had drowned out the gentleness in his father's voice and his loving ways. And her belittling of her husband had lowered his stature in his son’s all-seeing eyes.
"Will I pass muster, Liam?"
The anxious look on the familiar face seemed as if he'd been privy to Liam's thoughts. A wave of anguish travelled up his back and buried itself inside his already crowded head.
"Yeah, you look good." Liam held out his hand for the keys to the silver Mercedes parked in the driveway and grinned when his dad hesitated. Can't separate a man from his toys easily, he decided, knowing he'd have had difficulty giving up his convertible.
The store didn't look near as fancy from the outside as it did inside. Photographs of stunning dogs, posed like champions, decorated most of the walls. Pedigrees, ribbons and other types of memorabilia were highlighted in a featured glass enclosure and drew the customer like dust to a Swiffer. The gray carpets were plush and the wallpaper to match pricey. Everything screamed class and respectability and brought the hackles rising on Liam’s neck.
These scumbags used the money from mistreated canines to live like this? He ached to bring them down. Maybe he didn't have the same love for Giorgio or Peppi as Sadie or their owners had, but he did hate the kind of men who used defenseless animals to feather their own nests. Bastards! Jail was too good for these guys, but since it was all they had, it was better than letting the assholes run around free to wreak their havoc and break hearts.
The man who approached them, sauntering as if he had all the time in the world, smiled and held out his hand.
"How can I help you? I'm Richard Bradford, part owner of the Palace of Pups. Are you looking to add to your family today?"
Slimy son of a bitch, Liam thought. The words were so practiced that not an ounce of sincerity rang through.
Playing the game, Liam and his father shook hands. Then Paul spoke. "Yes. I have a new family moving in with me who have a little boy about four years old. A pup running around the place would be the perfect playmate. A friend referred me here, and so I thought I'd come in and get some details on the type of animals you can offer."
Holy cow, the old man still had it in him, that urbane handling of other people—a good lawyer’s trademark.
"Then you wouldn't be at all interested in putting the dog in shows in the future?"
"No, I don't think so. But of course, I'm only interested in a purebred with good family traits."
"Of course, Mister…?"
"Paul O'Brien, and this is my son, Liam."
"We like to pair our clients with a pup according to your specific requirements. In that way, you'll be confident in the predictability of the specific breed, and of course you can rest assured that each animal will be of the highest standard."
"I see. Yes, that sounds perfect. I guess we’ll need a mild-mannered dog that loves children, has lots of energy, and is easy to train."
"Would you be looking for a guard dog?"
"Not specifically, but I'd hope it would have a natural instinct to guard, not only the boy but the house. And although this wouldn't be a main prerequisite, I can't stand dogs being too yappy, either."
A falsetto laugh grated on Liam's nerves. He wanted to break Bradford's face in order to stop the irritation.
"Come with me to the office, and I'll show you photographs of the stock we have available at the moment."
Liam broke his silence and asked, "Is there any way we could pay a visit to where you have the dogs housed? I think it would be helpful for my dad to see not only the pups but the mothers and sires, also. I've read that if a potential owner wants a future glimpse of his pup, he should check out its parents."
"That's true if you're buying from an unlicensed breeder. We have only the best dogs in our stable and would give you a total guarantee of quality. Therefore, it wouldn't be necessary for you to have to do any traveling to the kennels. But we do have photographs of our farm, and I'll be glad to show you some of the features."
Liam watched the jerk walk like a sissy, and as he trailed behind, he wished he could give his sashaying ass a satisfying swift kick.
Settled into the leather seats in the upstairs office, Liam and Paul looked at each other, eyebrows raised in speculation. All the while their host busied himself gathering paperwork from his desk, he prattled on about the most popular breeds.
"Let me see now. We have Labs, Terriers, German Shepherds, Golden Retrievers, Poodles—one of our best sellers—the ladies do love their Poodles. And then there's Shih Tzus, Beagles, and we've just lately branched into Pomeranians, since we've found a wonderful sire for our female."
That’s it! I am gonna rip the guy's face off…
Holding back wasn't sitting right with Liam’s tense stomach or the threatening headache. Sure as hell, he'd be suffering later. Another sleepless night.
The degenerate smiled in his oily way and nestled into the seat across the table from where they sat. "Can I offer you coffee or a soft drink?" His affected gesture towards the mini kitchen was another reason for dislike.
"No thanks." Paul looked toward Liam, who shook his head. "We'd like to know more about your facilities, if you don't mind."
"Of course." He passed them a bundle of professionally done posters with amazing photographs of various animals. Some featured puppies, while the others showed only the female or male parents. At the end of the pile, an exact replica of Peppi’s orange-brindled face stared back at Liam, and he had to stop himself from leaping across the low table and satisfying his need for revenge. He'd swear this was the little bugger who'd led him on a chase for three blocks and then washed his face all the way back.
"As I mentioned earlier, we've managed to add Pomeranians to our growing numbers. The male and female just came to us a short time ago, so it'll be some time before there'll be a litter. But I have no doubt we'll be offering the puppies soon."
"What do you have that's available right now? I wouldn't want to wait for too long.” As he spoke, Paul sifted through the pile and stopped on one poster. For instance, I see there are Golden Retriever puppies available?"
"Yes, the dam, Sunny Glow, has championship papers, and her breeding lines are impeccable. The sire, Golden Fellow, is also from one of the best kennels in the country and has many blue ribbons to prove his perfection in his class. Truly, this is an ideal choice for a companion for a small boy. These particular dogs are great for families, gentle and sweet natured. Not only that, they're beautiful to look at and intelligent, besides being the most sought after of all the dogs we own. I already had homes for all five pups in that poster, but one of the families, the ambassador for England no less, just notified me they’d been moving back home and so the little female in the middle is now available."
"What do you think, Liam? Do you like the look of these little bundles?"
Liam heard the yearning in his father's voice, and his internal antenna began to work overtime. Why the old fraud intended for this to be a real sale.
"Sure. But don't you want to consider other options before buying?"
"No, I don't think I do. So, Mr. Bradford, what’s the price for this puppy, and when and where do I pick it up?"
Why the crafty devil! Now Liam understood his father's reasoning.
"You’re very lucky, Mr. O’Brien. The pups have reached eight weeks old and are now ready leave their mother. With a guarantee, of course, that they’re up-to-date with all their vaccinations. We like to bring the animals here to the pet shop for our new owners to collect. Because, added into the buying price, we have a fine selection of leashes and collars to choose from as our gift, plus there's a huge array of other accessories you might like to look over to help make the new member of your family feel truly at home."
"Do you at least have a brochure or a picture of your farm, where the puppies are raised? I have a lot of friends and associates who'll most likely be asking as soon as they see the puppy."
"Hum, yes, I do have a few shots we've occasionally taken of the farm. Let me get them for you. And I'll have my assistant organize your paperwork and receipt at the same time, shall I?"
"Yes. That will be fine. Hopefully you won't bankrupt me?" Paul joked, but with an edge that had the other man hesitate before he left the room.
"Quick, go through his desk, and I'll stay by the door." Paul motioned to Liam, who'd already moved in that direction.
First he picked up the cell phone left behind, and with a few clicks had the list of previous phone numbers revealed on the screen. He pulled out his own phone and carefully took a photo. Then he rifled through some loose sheets in the top drawer to see if there was anything incriminating.
Damn! Nothing!
Just then a ping sounded in his mind, which made him look up to see his pirate friend standing beside the wooden file cabinet, arms crossed, legs splayed and an angry frown on his face.
"In the left side drawer. Hurry! Get the camera ready."
"Hey, nice of you to drop in. Long time no see!"
“Missed me, did ya?”
“Yeah, like a rash.”
Liam grinned at the cocky fellow that he was surprisingly glad to see.
“Hurry, the miserable little worm is coming back.”
Sure enough, there was a copy of an e-mail dated today that said puppies would be arriving from the breeder in Oklahoma that evening, and the same vehicle would then transport the newest shipment of dogs from Bradford’s place in the return trip.
That left them twenty-four hours to find the crummy farm. So much for his plans to go to the lake and see his girl! Probably just as well. He knew he had no business encouraging Sadie to fall in love with him—or vice versa. Right now his life was so screwed up, she’d be far better off with a guy who could sleep at night without waking up screaming.
A hissing sound brought his attention back to the matter at hand, and he quickly took a photo of the paper he held before placing it back where he’d found it and closing the drawer. There was only enough time to show his thumb to the now angelically smiling John-boy and move back towards his seat before he heard steps approaching.
A picture hanging on the nearest wall drew him like it had been magnetized. Acting nonchalant, he stopped to study it. It was a lovely landscape with a faint conglomeration of buildings and the view of a lake in the distance.
The door opened and Bradford stepped into the room, spied Liam by the watercolor, and moved to join him. “I see you’re attracted to this painting. We commissioned it to be done of the…of some property we used to own,” said Bradford, his tone full of pride as he stepped closer to Liam. “It was painted many years ago by Lara Schnell, who today is a very well-known artist. Art is a huge passion of my brother’s; he spends a lot of time in galleries and even dabbles a bit himself.” Bradford waved Liam toward his seat and stepped back to let him pass, the gesture saying in no uncertain terms that the subject was now closed.
Paul, pretending to study the posters from earlier, put them down and smiled convincingly at the slimeball whose greasy smirk had Liam’s fists itching. He had to get out of this room before he blew the whole operation.
As if sensing his son’s discomfort, Paul rose and looked at his watch, then stuck out his hand for the sheaf of papers held out in his direction. “Oh, good, you have the paperwork.”
Liam watched his father’s expression as he perused each sheet and knew exactly when he’d come to their price. The raised eyebrows and cough made him slightly uncomfortable, but he watched as the old man carried it off without a glitch.
“Yes, this seems reasonable. I’ll give you half now and pay the difference as soon as I take possession of the dog. I see here the puppy’s kennel name is Luna Mist. That is lovely. I know she’ll fit in with our family very well.”
“I have no doubt; she is a purebred with an impeccable bloodline and worth every penny. I’m very happy we were able to be of service. We should have the pup ready to be picked up here in the store on Monday. I’ll call you myself to let you know she’s arrived.”