Pet Friendly (16 page)

CHAPTER 25

E
mma gave her name at the nurse's station and signed in. The LPN at the desk had just started her shift, but the charge nurse recognized her and asked how things were going.

“I've got my staff looking after the hotel and most of the guests have checked out.” She glanced at the double doors separating the waiting area from the patients' rooms. “I just thought I'd come by and see how he was doing.”

“Of course.”

The woman gave her a knowing smile and Emma looked away. This was the third time she'd come by the hospital since Todd had been admitted the night before. By now, everyone on his floor probably thought they were lovers. She might have tried to straighten them out, but Emma knew it wouldn't do any good.
People believe what they want to believe,
she told herself.
Might as well enjoy it while it lasts.

“How's the arm?” the nurse said, pointing to the cast that covered Emma's left forearm from wrist to elbow.

“Not too bad.” She flexed her fingers. “Doc said it was just a hairline fracture. I never would have known without the X-ray.”

“Well, you know the drill.”

She handed Emma a gown and waited for her to use the hand sanitizer before pushing the button that opened the double doors.

Todd's room was the fifth door on the right—a double with an empty second bed. As Emma walked down the hall, she tried not to stare into the other rooms, each one a tableau of sickness and misfortune. Hospital visitors tended to hug the walls, she'd noticed, looking awkward and uncertain, while the patients all looked pretty much the same. It was as if putting on one of those gowns stripped people of their uniqueness, the only difference between them being whether or not their eyes were open.

A nurse in green scrubs walked by and smiled at her. Emma stopped.

“Has he had any other visitors?”

“I don't think so.”

The woman made a quick detour and checked the clipboard that hung from a hook outside his room.

“Nope,” she said. “Looks like you're the only one.”

Emma fumed. She could understand why Todd's mother wasn't there—even if she'd gotten the voice mail Emma had left on her phone, she was too far away to get there quickly—and Claire might not even know that anything had happened to her brother. But where was Gwen? She was his fiancée, after all, or at least she had been. Gwen was the one who should have been sitting next to Todd's hospital bed, not her.

As Emma stepped into the room, she caught a whiff of antiseptic. The lights had been dimmed and the TV was unplugged. In addition to a broken leg, facial lacerations, and a dislocated shoulder, Todd had suffered a mild concussion. There was no sign of permanent damage, but until his brain was fully healed, the doctor said he should have as little outside stimulation as possible.

The covers were tucked neatly across his chest and their gentle rise and fall was reassuring. Emma pulled up a chair and sat down. She didn't bother waking him. It was enough just to sit there quietly, knowing that Todd was all right. And after all the revelations of the last several hours, she needed time to just sit and think. There was still an awful lot of stuff she had to process.

It was the question she'd been asking herself since yesterday, and Emma still didn't have an answer. Why would the man who'd practically run the Spirit Inn for almost twenty years suddenly decide to destroy it? All this time, Emma had been blaming herself for the inn's problems while Clifton was doing everything he could to undermine her. If he'd physically stabbed her in the back, it couldn't have hurt any worse than it did. When she thought about how naive she'd been not to suspect him, it made her feel foolish.

It wasn't just the supplies, either. When she started looking through everything that had fallen out of the ceiling, Emma had found a second set of books that showed he'd been embezzling from the inn for years. Even if she could get the bank to reconsider their repayment demand, she had nothing left to pay them with. The best she could hope for would be to sell the resort and move on.

“Hey, you.”

Emma started. She hadn't noticed that Todd was awake. He'd probably been lying there, wondering why she kept showing up.

“How're you feeling?” she said.

“Like Chicken Little.” He grimaced.

“I called your mother to tell her what happened, but I had to leave a message. If you give me Claire's number, I can call her, too.”

He nodded. “Any more stuff turn up?”

Emma shrugged. He meant were there any more surprises in the rubble. She felt guilty for having told him as much as she had the last time she was there, but once they got started on the subject, the whole thing had just come tumbling out. She told him it served him right for being such a good listener.

“I found the blueprints for the hotel.”

“And?”

“I'm not surprised Jake couldn't find a way into the attic,” she said. “The entire structure is a façade.”

“What do you mean ‘a façade'?”

“Originally, there were three separate buildings on the property. When the outside shell was constructed, it left a series of passageways between them.”

“Which would explain the hollow walls.”

Emma nodded. “It's not unheard of. Even now, people sometimes reuse foundations. Whoever redid the inn just went a little overboard.”

“It also explains the ghost encounters. Archie must have found a way in there. When he started howling and scratching to get out . . .”

“People at the inn heard it coming from inside the walls and assumed they were hearing ghosts.”

“But if Archie could get in there, other animals could have, too. Maybe that's what gave your grandmother the idea that the place was haunted.”

“Maybe.” She made a face.

Todd lay back and rubbed a hand across his forehead.

“But why was Archie up in the attic? It couldn't have been easy for him to climb up there.”

“I've been thinking about that,” Emma said. “I think it was the rats.”

He squinted at her. “Rats?”

“Clifton had been complaining about rats in the hotel for months, but no one else ever saw them. Turns out, they were attracted by all the supplies he'd stuffed into the attic; I found a few of them in the rubble. I'd been wondering why Clifton was always disappearing in the middle of the day. He must have been up there, clearing the dead rats out of the traps.”

“And you think that that's what attracted Archie?”

Emma nodded.

“But surely someone else would have noticed if it smelled that bad.”

“It wouldn't have had to be all that bad for Archie to notice; dogs' noses are a lot more sensitive than ours are. When Clifton realized that Archie had gotten into the passageway, he knew he had a problem. What if you went searching for your dog and discovered his secret?”

Todd's pillow had bunched up on one side. He reached up, trying to adjust it, and winced.

“Here,” she said, “let me get that.”

Emma stood and gently lifted his head as she moved the pillow back into place.

“Is that better?”

“Much.” He smiled. “Thank you.”

“Anyway,” she continued. “Clifton must have gone up there just before the séance to try to catch him. He didn't realize that the extra weight of the supplies had further weakened the damaged ceiling and when he made a grab for Archie, it collapsed.”

“So what'll you do now?”

She shrugged. “Sell it, I guess. One of the ski lodges next to me would probably love to have some extra space. Unless you've changed your mind about buying it.”

He shook his head.

“Any idea why Fairholm would try to ruin you?”

“None,” she said. “The biggest disagreement we ever had was whether or not the staff should wear ascots.”

“Oh, well, that's your reason right there,” he said. “Heck, I'd burn the place down before I'd wear one of those things.”

Emma laughed. “No, he was the one who wanted to
keep
them.”

“Too bad. Could have been grounds for an insanity defense.”

She tried to laugh again, but it came out as a sob. Todd reached out and touched her hand.

“Sorry,” he said. “I didn't mean to make light of it. It's just the way I am, I guess. Better to laugh than to cry, huh?”

She nodded and wiped away a tear.

“Can you stay a minute,” he said, “or do you have to run?”

“I can stay a little longer, I guess.”

Todd stared thoughtfully at the ceiling.

“I've been thinking about a new theme for the inn.”

Emma grimaced. “That concussion must be worse than I thought. I don't have an inn anymore, remember? Or at least I won't by the end of the month.”

He smiled. “Aren't you going to ask me what it is?”

“All right,” she said. “What's your idea?”

“Pet friendly.”

“That's the theme?”

“Yes. Instead of a haunted inn with lots of expensive Victorian doodads, why don't you close the Spirit Inn for repairs and open it again as a destination resort where people and their animals can come and enjoy a vacation together? Call it the Pet-Friendly Inn or something.”

“What made you think of that?”

“On the way out to your place, Archie and I stopped at a place called the Dog Days Inn. It was a dump—not even a real hotel—and it was packed! If people will pay to stay in a smelly place like that just so they can have their pets with them, just imagine how happy they'd be to bring their pets to a really nice place.”

She frowned thoughtfully. “I suppose it could work.”

“Of course it could. And once I pay off your loan—”

Emma put up her hands. “I don't need your charity.”

“Yes, you do. Look,” he said, “I already know what your situation is, and unless I miss my guess, you know what mine is, too.”

Emma looked away and shrugged.

“I'm serious. And I'm not talking about a gift; I'm talking about an investment. A pet-friendly inn will bring in more customers than your ghosts ever did. Which reminds me . . .”

Todd lifted his head and looked around.

“Where's Archie?”

CHAPTER 26

W
hen the red Ferrari pulled into the humane society's parking lot, Jody Davis whistled. There might be plenty of rich folks in Puget Sound, but you didn't see a lot of Italian sports cars out in Gold Beach. The driver's door opened and a tall blond woman stepped out, removed a small dog carrier from the passenger's seat, and headed for the front door. Jody shook her head.

“Looks like somebody's bringing in a stray,” she said to the other desk clerk.

“Hope they like bad news.”

“Yeah, me too.”

Jody braced herself for an argument. They weren't accepting any strays at the moment—the shelter was full—and the woman who was picking her way carefully through the puddles outside didn't look like the type who took no for an answer. She shook her head. Who wore high heels on a day like that?

The front door swung open with a whoosh and the woman staggered inside, dropping the carrier hard enough to make the little dog inside yip in protest. Jody pressed her lips together. She loved almost every kind of animal. People, not so much.

“Can I help you?”

“Yes,” the woman said. “I want to get rid of this dog.”

Jody glanced at the animal in the carrier.

“I'm sorry,” she said. “We're not taking animals for adoption at the moment.”

“Oh, I don't want him adopted,” the woman said. “He needs to be destroyed.”

That surprised her. People rarely brought an animal in specifically to be put down.

“Why?” Jody said. “What's wrong with him?”

“He bit me,” the woman said.

A quick tug of her sleeve revealed a bloody bandage on her left forearm.

“I was just trying to pet him and he turned on me.”

Jody stepped out from behind the counter and squatted down in front of the carrier. The dog inside was some sort of mixed breed. Small, but not small enough to be a toy. He wasn't wearing a collar, either, though it looked as if he had been recently.

“Hey there, fella.”

The little dog blinked and turned his head away.

“Are his vaccines up-to-date?”

“Why? You don't think he could have rabies, do you?”

Jody was studying the little mutt. He looked healthy enough and he wasn't showing any sign of aggression. What would make a little guy like that bite someone?

“Doesn't look like it. You said you were just petting him and he hauled off and bit you?”

The blond woman pressed her lips together.

“Pretty much,” she said. “The man who sold him to me said he was pretty high-strung, but he was so cute I couldn't resist. It's weird, too. I've always had good luck with Craigslist.”

Jody made a face. Seemed like every other week they had someone come in who'd gotten a sick or vicious dog through an online ad. Why didn't they come down to the animal shelter instead? The humane society had plenty of healthy, adoptable dogs. She stood back up.

“You should always know an animal's history before you take it into your home,” she said. “I don't suppose you could get the guy who sold him to you to take the dog back.”

“I don't think so. I mean, I met him in a park and all I've got is his e-mail address.”

Jody pursed her lips. It seemed a shame to put down an animal like that. She'd have bet her eyeteeth that the blond woman had done something to provoke him, but there was no way for her to check out her story and the shelter was obligated to destroy any animal deemed to be vicious. She reached behind the counter and took out a release form.

“Here,” she said. “Fill this out while I put him in back.”

She picked up the carrier and headed into the back room where the animals awaiting euthanasia were kept. Vic, the veterinary assistant, was setting up the injection table when Jody walked in. She opened the carrier and removed the little dog.

“Got another one for you,” she said.

Vic looked over. “What's his problem?”

“Beats me,” she said. “His owner says he bit her, but he looks pretty docile to me.”

Jody set the little mutt in the cage and watched him curl up. Something about the situation didn't seem right. Would the previous owner have sold him if he knew where he'd end up? Maybe there was more to this story than she'd been told.

“You're not going to put him down right now, are you?”

“I can, if you want,” he said. “But we usually do them all at five, when the doc gets here. Why?”

She shook her head.

“I just have a hunch,” she said. “Just leave him where he is for now.”

The blond woman was already getting back into her car when Jody returned. She'd left the form on the counter with a twenty-dollar bill on top. Jody ran outside.

“Wait a minute!” she yelled.

The woman looked at her irritably.

“The form's on the counter. I don't need a receipt for the donation.”

“I know,” Jody said. “But don't you want your carrier?”

“No, thanks,” the woman said. “I won't be getting another dog anytime soon.”

 

Todd listened as Gwen's phone kicked his call over to her voice-mail box. He pressed the disconnect button and lay back on the bed. This was the fourth time he'd called her in half an hour and he'd already left two messages; it didn't make any sense to leave another one.

Emma had stepped out to call the inn. She needed to see how Jake and Adam were and she'd promised to have them check to see if there were any messages. Todd set the phone down. Gwen's taking off like she had was giving him a bad feeling.

Don't be ridiculous,
he told himself. Gwen might be hurt and upset, but she wasn't a monster, and their broken “engagement” had nothing to do with Archie. If Todd had just put the ring back in his dresser instead of sticking it inside the suitcase, it never would have happened. Chances were good that Gwen had either driven home with Archie or taken him to Claire's.

Of course! Why hadn't he thought of that before? Claire's house wasn't too far away. He'd give his sister a call and see if Gwen and Archie were there.

Todd looked down at his phone and saw that he'd missed a call. It must have come in when he was calling Gwen. He checked the number and smiled. It was from Claire, probably calling to let him know that Gwen and Archie had arrived safe and sound. Talk about a coincidence. He hit “call back” and waited. Emma walked in as it started to ring; he held up a finger for her to wait a minute.

“Hey, Claire, it's me.”

“Todd?
What the hell is going on?
”

“What?”

“I just got off the phone with Ma. She's practically hysterical, thanks to you.”

He felt his jaw tighten. “Sorry. The next time I stand under a ceiling, I'll try not to let it fall on me.”

Claire's voice dropped several decibels.

“What ceiling? What are you talking about?”

“I'm in the hospital. Didn't Ma get Emma's message?”

“She didn't say anything about a message. What happened to Archie?”

“That's what I was calling you about. Aren't he and Gwen at your place?”

“
Gwen?
Why the hell would she be here?”

“I thought Archie was with her,” he told his sister.

“Archie's at the pound,” Claire said. “They called Ma and told her they're putting him down. How could you do that, Todd? I told you we'd take him.”

“I didn't take him to the pound! I've been in the hospital since yesterday.”

“Well,
somebody
took him down there.”

Todd finally noticed the look on Emma's face and realized she must have known something was wrong before she walked in.

“Hang on a second, Claire.” He put his hand over the phone. “Do you know what's going on?”

She nodded. “A little. Your mother called the inn and said to tell you that you have to get Archie from the humane society by five or they'll put him to sleep.”

“
What?
They can't do that.” He uncovered the phone. “This has to be a mistake. How did the humane society get Ma's number?”

“Archie's chip. When they scanned it, they got Uncle Bertie's phone number and when they called it, they got forwarded to her.”

“But the humane society doesn't put dogs down,” he said.

“They do if they're vicious.”

“Archie isn't vicious!”

“The woman who dropped him off said he was. Ma said she told them he'd bitten her.”

Todd's head began to pound. It had to be Gwen; Emma had seen her put Archie in his carrier. But why would she do that? Why hurt Archie because she was angry with him?

It didn't matter. The important thing now was to get him out of there before the place closed.

“Can you go pick him up?” he asked.

“No, that's why I called you. Bob's taken the truck and I've got no way to reach him.”

There was no other way. Todd would just have to get Archie himself.

“Which humane society was it, do you know?”

“Ma just said it had a three-sixty area code.”

Which meant it could be anywhere. He looked at the clock. There wasn't time to call around and find the right one.

“Call Ma back. Tell her to check her caller ID for the number,” he told his sister. “Then call me back.”

“Okay, and then what?”

“Tell her not to worry. Tell her you talked to me and I'm going to get Archie.”

Emma was shaking her head. Todd scowled at her and pointed to the clock.

“I thought you said you were in the hospital,” Claire said.

“I was”—he reached under his gown and ripped the electrodes off his chest—“but I just checked out.”

 

Todd knew that waiting for a doctor to sign him out was the preferred method for checking out of a hospital, but putting on his clothes and using the service elevator worked just as well. Emma pulled her truck up to the curb and helped him into the front seat.

“Where are we going?” he said.

“Gold Bar. The woman on the phone said you'll need to show ID and sign an affidavit swearing that Archie was stolen and that he hasn't bitten anyone. Do you need help?”

“Not anymore,” Todd said, pulling his leg into the cab.

He slammed the door and Emma pulled away from the curb.

“How long does it take to get there?” he asked.

“Depends on what condition the roads are in. Twenty-five minutes if they're clear; twice that if there's ice on the road.”

Todd checked the time. It was four twenty-seven.

“That's cutting it pretty close.”

“I know,” she said. “I'll do my best.”

The truck's engine roared as they pulled out into traffic. They were on the highway in less than a minute, heading east toward Gold Bar.

“Thanks for taking me. I don't know how I'd have gotten to him, otherwise.”

Emma looked over and smiled.

“It's okay. You'd have done the same for me.”

Todd shook his head sadly. “This is my fault. If they put Archie down, I'll never forgive myself.”

“How is it your fault? You didn't take him down there.”

“No, but I didn't do anything to stop her, either.”

“Um, excuse me? You were unconscious, remember?”

Todd licked his lips. How could he explain to her the person he'd become these last few years? To Emma, he was just a grown-up version of the little kid who'd done cannonballs off the diving board and shinnied up trees to spy into birds' nests. How could he make her understand that losing his father had undercut his sense of security, made him so desperate for outside validation and approval that he'd been willing to throw away his moral compass in favor of money in the bank and marriage to a beautiful woman who treated him badly?

“By the way, I like your idea,” she said.

“What?”

“For the inn, remember? You know, somewhere people could go and stay with their animals where there'd be stuff for everyone to do. I'm still not sure about letting you—oh, no!”

Taillights were bunching up on the road in front of them. Emma took her foot off the gas.

“Looks like there's a wreck up there,” she said as the truck slowed.

Todd took out his phone and checked the local traffic.

“It's on the right,just before the next exit.”

“How much time have we got?”

“Eight minutes.” He slammed his fist against the door. “Damn it!”

Emma put on her signal and started cutting over to the left-hand lane.

“Don't worry,” she said. “We can still make it.”

“How? There's no way this is going to clear in time.”

“It doesn't have to.” She pulled out onto the shoulder and gunned the engine. “But you'd better hold on.”