His Devious Angel (19 page)

In the distance, she heard men speaking, but until she actually hid behind the picket fence, she didn't know what was being said.     

"Damn, those puppies stink. You better get them outta the van and into the barn. Bradford left orders. Five of them need to be groomed and ready to be delivered to the store Monday morning."

"Hey, why me? I hate the little suckers. It's bad enough putting up with the ones I have here. Stupid Pom got loose and took off. Had to drive for an hour to find him…ended up on the beach playing with some kids. I was pissed, but couldn't give the damn mutt what-for ’cause the little snooty-nosed buggers thought it was
so cute
."

For the last two words, the jerk's voice rose trying to imitate a child, but his raspy tone just sounded crude and cruel. "Probably would have blabbed to Mommy if I'd a smacked it there. Let me tell you, when I get through with that blasted animal, it won't be running anymore." Sadie peered over the fence and saw the same truck that had passed her parked next to the van. Peppi's face could still be seen in the window.

"Yeah, well, tell it to someone who cares. I just spent the whole day—all the way from Oklahoma—locked in the van with 25 of those squalling rats, and I've had it up to my ears with their pissing and shitting everywhere. Van reeks like the outhouse on my old place in Kentucky."

A cell phone rang, and the bigger fellow, the one who'd driven the van, pulled it from his pocket and flipped it open.

"Yeah?" His face first registered anger and then compliance.  "Okay, whatever. Fine, they'll be ready." He shut the call off, closed it, and dropped his phone into his shirt pocket, then put his hands under his protruding stomach to balance on his hips.

"Boss is on his way. He's bringing Sanders here to pick up the three dogs we collected on our last haul. Wants to get them out to the place and bred as soon as possible. I suppose he’ll want to drive the van back. Damn!”

“Guess you’ll have to clean it,” Walt said with a sneer.

“Not likely. That’s your job. Good thing you found that Pom, ’cause he mentioned him specifically.”

"I'll get him and tie him in the barn with the others." Walt stomped forwards and wrenched open the truck door without using any precaution at all. Sadie could have told him it was a stupid thing to do, but it was too late. Peppi streaked past him like a jet-propelled furry red cannonball, straight to where Sadie huddled in the darkness.

"Dad-blasted dog!" Walt ran surprisingly fast for a fellow with bowlegs, tight jeans, and a big stomach. "Ahhh…what do we have here?" Sadie turned to run in the other direction, but too late. He grabbed her hair and yanked cruelly.

"Hey, Hank, come see what I found. I gots me a cute little trespasser—how ’bout that?"

"Shit! Just what we need." Hank stomped nearer. 

For a second, Sadie wondered if she'd ever be able to cover up the bald spot in the back of her head. "Let me go. I'm here looking for my dog. She and I got separated, and when I heard voices, I thought you might have seen her."

"And that's why you were hiding behind the fence? ’Cause you wanted to ask us about your dog? Then how come you knew the Pom's name? I heard you say Peppi, no?"

"Yes. I mean, no. I don't know the dog, and I wasn't hiding, I was—"

"Enough. Walt, where'd that little mutt go?"

"Hell if I know. He ran straight to this little lady here and then disappeared." Walt had obviously taken a shine to Sadie's hair, ’cause he didn't seem to want to let go of the mass he still held twisted in his fingers.

"We're in a pickle now. Stop messing with her hair and get her into the barn.”

Before that could happen, Walt’s ankle became puppy-chow for a very angry bloodhound. Susie, showing a surprising amount of energy, had latched onto skin and bone and wasn’t about to let go. Slobber flying everywhere, bloodshot eyes gleaming hate, her incisors gnawed while Walt screamed. He let go of Sadie’s hair and flailed away at a twisting, growling bundle of fury. 

“You bastard! Stop hitting my dog!” Walt tried to grab Sadie before she leapt onto Hank’s back, but he reacted too slowly. Her hands gouged at beady little eyes, and it took a choke hold to get her to behave. Once Hank had her under control, he kicked Susie with cowboy boots and a lot of oomph. She rolled over and quivered, growling at the same time.

The sneer in his voice said it all. “I’ll take her, ya big lug. You get that dog there. Might as well add a hound to our bloody group, eh?” He giggled like a girl at his own pun, grabbed a handful of Sadie’s hair and headed toward the barn.
What was it about her hair that drew these suckers?

Walt, disgusted, kicked Susie again, and she quieted. Then he found the end of her still-attached leash and dragged her pulling and snapping behind the other two. 

“Throw that hound in with the others and then tie this little one up good. We'll let the boss figure out what he wants to do with her. Then go and get that blasted runaway." Walt sounded as if his patience had fled.

"Okay, honey chile. You come with little ole Walt, and I'll take good care of you." Walt wrapped surprisingly strong arms around her waist and started to lift. But Sadie hadn't taken all those aerobic and yoga classes for nothing. She let herself go limp, and when the move pulled him off balance, she kicked up with her foot and caught him in a place that would be guaranteed to make him talk in a higher voice for quite some time.

Before she could gain her balance, Hank was on her and wrestled her to the ground. He seized the front of her sweater, lifted her to her toes and bitch-slapped her. Bells rang in her ears like a Sunday morning call to church.
God, that hurt!

"Quit sniveling, Walt. Get up and find that other dog. We got no time to lose. I'll tie her up. You get that mutt and then clean out the van."

"Give me five minutes with the bitch first." Pain rang in Walt’s voice, which gave Sadie some solace.  If she had to suffer, she was glad she wasn't doing it alone. The gladness disintegrated quickly with Hank's reply.

"Later."

"You and Sadie going together?" Stan drove with an easy nonchalance that gave his passenger complete confidence.

Liam realized he hadn't spoken in quite some time, and Stan might be thinking he was acting a mite strange. He did have an excuse, just not one he could share.

First he’d filtered through the rioting emotions he’d experienced earlier. His dad had helped him more than anyone else could have. Probably his own fault, since he’d never let anyone else get that close.

His old man had made him see that, when it came right down to it, he’d had no choice. The decisions made were under duress, and he’d reacted as a soldier was trained to act. Somehow that satisfied the guilt monster tearing him apart. He sensed that from now on he would be able to deal with the shame.

Free of the monkey riding his back, his thoughts of Sadie could be allowed. She’d ensnared him, and he couldn't focus on anything but his need to see her again.  He could tell her he loved her and carry on where they’d left off the night before.

After the conversation with his father, he'd come to a decision. A good decision. One he knew would be right for him. And he wanted to share his news with the sassy girl who'd stolen his heart.

"Ahem." Persistent, Stan tried again to start up a conversation. "You still with me here?"

"Sorry, got a lot on my mind.” Liam turned to talk with Stan, and a movement in the back seat caught his attention.
“Where the hell have you been? I could have used your help earlier.”

“You swear too much, poopy-mouth. It isn’t nice.”
Johnnie-boy lounged against the back seat, his long hair splayed over the headrest.

“Who gives a sh…”
An “I-told-you” grin stopped Liam from finishing his sentence.
“I could have used your help earlier. How come you disappeared?”

“I do have other duties. Untying animals, giving emotional support, I’m needed by more than you.”

“Hellooo? Calling Liam.” Stan’s voice broke into Liam’s inner exchange. By the time he’d glanced over to an irked Stan and then snuck a short peek into the back again, his angel had disappeared.
Just like the guy to appear when he’s not needed and be gone when I have a million questions.

An answer popped into his head in that annoying British accent.
“I’m not here to answer your questions, mate. Just to save your, ahh, butt.”

Stan clicked his fingers in front of Liam, his voice rough but kind. “You okay?”

“Sorry. Where were we? Right, Sadie. Yeah, I hope we're an item. She's a good girl. I'd like to spend a lot more time with her. What about you and Greta?"

"Oh, I guess I'll have to marry that one. She's too perfect to throw back, and I couldn't even if I wanted to."

"Oh, why's that?"

"She's got my number. Always knew I'd get caught one day. Never thought she’d be such a winner."

"I know what you mean. Guess when his time’s up, a guy's just gotta go quietly, right?" Liam laughed and was pleased at how happy he sounded.

Stan slowed down. "I think we're getting close. Always did want to see Mara Lake, but never took the time to drive out here."

"Mara Lake? Hell, that's where Sadie and her family are this weekend. I was supposed to join them tomorrow."

"Well, Bud, it looks like it's a date you'll be able to keep."

"If we can free the animals and arrest the scumbags who make money off them. Can you call backup in case there's trouble?"

"Yeah, I've been given authority to bring in the local guys, and the humane society is on standby to come in and take over the kennels, and to ensure the animals are looked after and that proper charges are laid against the perpetrators. In fact, they were more than happy to be involved in the operation. Must be pretty dull around this burg most days."

"And that's a bad thing?"

"Didn't say that. The farm shouldn't be too far. I think it would be best if we park here and hoof it."

"Good thinking. Don't want them getting suspicious if they see a strange car."

Liam felt energy building in the same way he'd always experienced before going out on duty. His spine stiffened, and he cleared his mind of everything except what was needed for the next little while. 

Stan pulled off the road into a dark switchback, stepped out of the vehicle, and checked his weapon before replacing it in his back waistband. Meanwhile, Liam collected his dark jacket and made sure his cell phone was switched to vibrate.

"Ready?"

"As I'll ever be."

Night had descended, wasting no time once the sun had set. Moon rays, glinting through the trees, cast shadows over the uneven ground. Darkened foliage became nature’s weapon as branches mysteriously appeared out of nowhere. Stan crashed around like a complete greenhorn, but Liam’s training kicked in. He took lead. 

 The flashlight helped some, but not wanting to break an ankle slowed them down more. Once they heard the dogs in the distance, they knew they were on the right trail. And the closer they got, the less they wanted to be seen. With the flashlight turned off, the going got even tougher.

Liam held his hand up and whispered, “Stop grunting and swearing. Who knows if they’ve posted a guard? They could hear you from a mile away.”

“I hate this shit.”

“What shit?”

“Killer trees.” A city man sounding like a youngster on his first camping trip made Liam smile. For him, this was more like a stroll in the countryside.

“Try crawling on your belly through sand hot enough to scorch your camouflage, and all the while ducking bullets.”

“Yeah! Whatever… Holy shit, what the hell? Is that a dog?”

Peppi yipped a warning before he leapt from a rock, landing against Liam’s chest. Instincts kicked in as the soldier caught and wrapped the little fellow in his arms. He held on to the whimpering bundle of scared dog and surveyed the drastic changes.  Branches attached to burrs stuck out all over the wretched shivering pup, his normally fluffy Pomeranian coat filthy with weeds and thistles. 

“Poor fella. It’s okay, Peppi. I’ve got you now.” Baby talk soothed the terrified Pom, and intuition told Liam it was sorely needed.