Her Undercover Refuge Read online

  “Of course,” she said nonetheless, and watched the grin on his face grow larger. “I’m sure everyone here at this shelter, animals and people, receive the best meals possible.”

  “Sure. You’ve got it. The best possible for here. Me? Once upon a time I was a gourmet, but I’m happy enough with what we’re served.”

  Ah. He’d led into hints of his past, and she hadn’t even needed to bring it up.

  But lunchtime, with everyone around, wasn’t the place to talk about it. “Hey,” Nella said, “can I join you for lunch? And I’d also love to walk a dog or two with you this afternoon.” She figured, after Scott’s discussion with her, that she was appropriately leading into spending time with a resident.

  “Sounds good. Which dogs would you like us to walk?”

  “Let’s talk about the possibilities while we’re eating,” Nella responded, then put a ham-and-cheese sandwich together with lots of lettuce. She also added some salad to her plate.

  When she glanced back at Warren, his plate was similarly filled, although she believed he had sliced turkey instead of ham. He seemed to be mostly using his right hand to put his food together. Was something wrong with his left hand?

  Both of them also picked up bottles of water—and Warren tucked his against his body with the same hand that held his plate. They found seats side by side at the far end of the same long table where Bibi and Alice sat.

  “So tell me which dogs are your favorite to walk,” Nella said, once they were seated across from one another.

  “I’m mostly into bigger dogs,” he said. With whatever was off about his hand, could he control assertive large dogs well? And if she recalled correctly, Nella had last seen him walking a Scottish terrier mix. “And if you’re going to push me about the dog you saw me with yesterday, Rover, well, I like him, too. And others. In fact, I can’t tell you any of the dogs here that I wouldn’t like to walk.”

  “Ah, got it,” Nella said. “I did recall seeing you with that Scottie, Rover. But who would you like to walk this afternoon? And who would you suggest I get so we can accompany you?”

  That was a good topic of conversation. This guy seemed to be fairly senior, but his mind was clearly intact, at least with respect to the dogs here at the shelter.

  And he seemed eager to finish eating so they could do as they’d been discussing and walk some dogs.

  Nella hurried, too—although she kept watch around the dining area in case Scott showed up. She wanted to find out how his meeting went at the Chance PD as soon as possible.

  And hoped he would tell her everything about it.

  But he didn’t appear before both Warren and she finished their meals—faster than the others at the table, which now also included Doreen and Muriel, both of whom Nella also wanted to talk to about their backgrounds.

  But soon Warren and she waved goodbye to their still-eating tablemates and dashed to the kennel area.

  There, Nella allowed Warren to make the choices for them. She wound up leashing Honey, the black Lab mix, for a walk, and Warren decided on Bruno, the Doberman mix.

  They both grabbed leashes and biodegradable plastic bags and led the dogs from their enclosures to the grassy area around the perimeter of the shelter walkway. Warren appeared to use both hands equally well now.

  “Feels good out here,” Warren said right away. “Not too hot and not too cold. Are you from around here?”

  “I’m from L.A.”

  “I’m from near there. The weather is similar.”

  “Right,” Nella responded.

  She watched as Warren manipulated Bruno’s leash and told the dog, “Heel.” Bruno immediately obeyed.

  “You have him well trained,” Nella observed.

  “I only know a few commands, but we’re all told to work with the dogs and teach them to obey.” Warren looked sideways at her with brown eyes surrounded by sagging skin. His thin gray hair lay flat on his head—not that there was any wind that day to move it. “That should make them easier to rehome, you know?”

  “Yes, that makes sense,” Nella said, recalling that Scott had told her she’d probably learn about how pet adoptions were handled mostly by watching it in action. “When do people come in to check out the animals and see if they want to adopt them?”

  “Nothing regular, though I heard a family’s coming in late this afternoon.”

  Nella felt a pang of worry along with her pleasure. Some strangers here after the threat? But surely there was a procedure in place to check them out. “I hope they find their new family member. Do any of us get to watch?”

  “Not us staff members. Being seen even here isn’t a good idea. Wish I could, though.”

  “I understand.” Nella paused. “You know, Warren, I’m really happy to be a manager at this shelter. I’m a former cop, as you probably know, and I want to do everything I can to keep staff members like you safe.” She of course wasn’t going to mention her primary concern right now. “One way I hope to be able to help is to understand people’s backgrounds better. I don’t want to know your real name or anything like that.” Because again, if it became imperative to know it, she would ask Scott. “But will you please tell me what the situation was when you decided to seek help here?”

  Warren stopped walking, and therefore so did Bruno, which additionally caused Honey to stop. They all stood still on the grass with the front wall of one of the kennel buildings at their side.

  Warren stared straight at her then, his expression cold and remote. “I don’t like to talk about it.”

  “I understand,” Nella said. “But as I said, I think I can help you better if I know where you’re coming from.”

  “I come from near Los Angeles,” he responded, then started walking again, Bruno at his side.

  “That’s not what I mean,” Nella said. “I’d like to know the situation that brought you—”

  “It was my damn business partner!” Warren seemed to explode as he again stood still. “I was walking outside our office one day—we were into real estate sales—and all of a sudden a car came tearing around the corner, aiming straight at me. It wasn’t his car, but a bigger one, a heavy SUV. And I saw his face grinning as I dove out of the way. Broke my arm.” He held out his left arm. This explained why he sometimes seemed to favor it as he did again now, taking most of the force of the dog’s leash with his right hand. “Otherwise, I was okay. And after I told the cops and tried to get back to work, things kept going wrong. I couldn’t prove anything, damn it—but I figured it was all caused by him, and if I didn’t get out of there I’d lose not only my business but my life, too.”

  He paused then, and Nella, wanting to say something supportive, said, “That had to be really hard.”

  “I’ll say!” He exploded again. “Fortunately, I’d already separated my money out of the business—and that might be why he was after me. I’ve got it hidden away in secret accounts...but you don’t need to know that. I’m just here till I feel I can take my life, and my business, back. Once my health is better, since my arm still hurts. I’ll do it, you know. Soon. I’ve only been here about a month, but I don’t want to stay forever and I’m not getting any younger. And I’ll do anything to try to make things right again.” He again looked directly at her, and she could see the determination on his clearly aging face.

  “I understand,” she said. “And I’ll do all I can to protect you while you’re here—and maybe help you get your strength back.”

  Could Warren be the subject of the threat? If his business partner had found him, that would be logical, since the guy had apparently already tried to kill him.

  Now Warren raced to the top of Nella’s list of those to protect most.

  She would talk to Scott about him as soon as she could.

  But as far as she could tell, Scott hadn’t yet returned from his outing at the police department. And she was happy
when, as Warren and she returned the dogs they’d been walking to their enclosures, Telma hurried over to them.

  “We’ve got two families of potential adopters arriving in about ten minutes.” She’d mostly looked serious when Nella had seen her before, her dark brows often set in a frown over her hazel eyes. Not now. In fact, those eyes were sparkling. “That’s the way we handle things around here,” she said. “We ask interested people to schedule a time by way of our website, and we vet them as well as we can before agreeing to that schedule. More than one group at a time seems fine, as long as there aren’t too many.”

  In other words, the managers would need to keep track of those visitors. Staff members would of course be in protected status. And, as Nella had assumed, the potential adopters had gone through at least some sort of vetting process.

  “Sounds great,” Nella said. “Just tell me where you want me.”

  “I will,” Telma said. “And let’s all keep our fingers crossed that some of our animal residents find their forever homes today.”

  In unison, it seemed, Warren and Nella raised their hands and crossed their fingers. Nella laughed.

  “Lead me to it,” she said.

  * * *

  It was almost three o’clock. Scott hadn’t intended to stay at the police station as long as he had, and then he’d wound up having lunch with Vince—which got extended because Vince was full of questions that Scott had no intention of answering about the shelter while they were out in public, so he returned to Vince’s office at the station to discuss them.

  But the conversation ended well—especially since Vince called in K-9 Officer Maisie Murran and her dog Griffin, a golden retriever.

  “Hope you don’t mind,” Vince said, “but I mentioned you might have an issue at the shelter, and Maisie said she’d love to talk to you about bringing Griffin for another visit and to patrol the area.”

  Maisie, with short blond hair and in her black uniform, nodded toward Scott as she said, “go” to Griffin so the dog approached Scott to sniff him. “Anytime,” she said. “You know we enjoyed the last few visits.” She and Griffin had visited three or four times in the months since the shelter had opened, just out of interest.

  But having an official K-9 visit the shelter, and also the area, now and then might be really helpful after the threat they’d received. Scott didn’t know where the danger might occur and wanted to utilize every asset he could.

  “Good idea,” he said.

  “Oh...and I also know of a retired K-9 whose former master just passed away,” Maisie said. “It might be a good fit to let him move into your shelter, too.”

  Scott liked that idea. “Let’s keep in touch and plan for your visit,” he said. “And sure, that K-9 sounds like a great idea.”

  Maisie lifted her hand in a salute, said goodbye and left the office.

  “That went well,” Vince said.

  “Yeah,” Scott agreed. “I’ll look forward to seeing Maisie and Griffin around. You can tell her the specifics of what our issue is, of course. I trust her to keep it to herself.”

  “Right,” Vince said. “You know I like your shelter and want everything to go well there. And I’m always glad to help you any way I can.”

  “Thanks,” Scott said. He shared a brotherly hug with his helpful coworker and left his office.

  Scott stopped for some supplies on his way back to the shelter, particularly because there wasn’t much in the apartment he temporarily occupied. Plus, he picked up a few things for Nella since he doubted she’d had time to grab anything so far.

  He got some additional items, too, since he had an idea how to spend the evening.

  When he finally got back to the shelter, he was delighted to see the managers, including Nella, introducing some potential adopters to a few resident dogs.

  The moment Nella saw him, she quickly walked over to him. “This is so wonderful,” she said. “These people all seem inclined to adopt, and Telma and Camp told me they’d been scheduled for today and already had background checks so they can even take dogs home with them.”

  “That’s the intention,” Scott said. He’d set up a procedure for vetting potential adopters, making sure not only that their backgrounds and homes looked good, but that they were often met face-to-face by managers, too, before visiting the shelter.

  And the staff members knew they were to stay in their apartments, or perhaps in the community room upstairs in that building, and not be seen. Not that it was likely any would be recognized, as few had lived near Chance before their arriving.

  Introductions all took place in the reception building, and visitors weren’t allowed to roam the grounds on their own, though they were most often taken to the shelter areas to see the dogs. There, they selected one or two to meet with in person who seemed appropriate in accordance with the forms the adopters had filled out, describing the size, temperament and more that they were seeking and sometimes mentioning specific dogs shown on the shelter’s website. They were then taken inside to the small meeting rooms near the reception area to interact, one at a time, with the dogs they liked, their potential new family members.

  Today’s two families consisted of both parents plus kids—two in one case, and one child in the other. In the family with two kids, both the mother and father were lawyers, and in the other the mother was a server at a local restaurant and the father worked at a car service station—different backgrounds, but they all seemed to love dogs, especially the ones they chose after getting to meet several possibilities.

  When it was over, Scott was glad he’d bought a couple of bottles of wine. Celebration was in order, and he’d invite the staff members to join in later in the dining building.

  For now, he and his managers said goodbye to the adopters. “Keep us informed how things go,” he said. “Our rescues are always welcome back, but we hope you have a wonderful life with them.”

  “We will,” chimed the little girl who was an only child. Her family had selected Herman, the Chihuahua mix.

  “Us, too,” said a teenage boy whose family had decided to adopt Shupe, the Shetland sheepdog mix.

  As they all started to go, Scott was surprised when Nella said, “Wait a minute, please.” He’d been glad, when he’d returned and headed to the reception area to meet the potential adopters, to see she was now wearing a Chance Animal Shelter manager’s shirt. The black shirt hugged her curves nicely—but he wasn’t supposed to notice that.

  And he wasn’t surprised when she was the one to step forward and hug both dogs who had just found new homes. “Bye, Herman. Bye, Shupe.” After the adopting families said goodbye to the managers and left out the front door that was locked behind them, Nella pivoted toward Scott.

  “I don’t know how you ever got the idea for this kind of shelter,” she said, reminding him a bit of his earlier conversation with Vince. “But it’s fantastic in so many ways.” Tears filled her brown eyes, and she approached him and grabbed his right hand, which she held tightly, moving it to her mouth so she could briefly kiss it. “Thank you so much for hiring me.”

  “Thank you so much for working here,” was his return, his gaze first meeting Telma’s, then Camp’s. He’d assumed they would roll their eyes in exasperation, but both looked engaged and Telma was even a little tearful.

  Which only made Scott happier he had begun this place and that it had been successful in protecting people.

  So far, at least.

  But he still had to figure out the meaning of that threat Nella had seen—and soon.

  Chapter 12

  And if seeing those emotional adoptions wasn’t enough, Nella found herself about to have another wonderful experience that evening.

  Well, it might not be wonderful. That remained to be seen. But as she headed away from the reception building and into the rest of the shelter with Scott, he told her he had gone on a shopping expedit
ion for himself while he was in town talking to the cops—and also brought some supplies back for her.

  “Far as I know, you haven’t had an opportunity to stock your new apartment yet, have you?” His blue eyes narrowed as if he could see into her mind for the answer to his query.

  “No, I haven’t,” she said as they stepped onto the concrete path in the middle of the shelter buildings. “Thank you so much. Just let me know how much I owe you.” Of course she wondered what he had bought and how useful it would be, but it had to be better than her prior status of having almost no supplies.

  “Just consider it part of your salary,” he said with a grin that lit up his handsome face. Which made her smile, too.

  Telma and Camp walked ahead of them. Some staff members were out there, too, which apparently was fine. They couldn’t have been seen by the adopters as long as they remained in their apartments, but they’d been okayed to go out now that the adopters had taken their new family members home.

  What time was it? It must be near dinnertime, Nella realized. They all were probably heading toward the shelter’s dining area.

  “Any idea what’s for dinner tonight?” Nella asked Scott.

  “I definitely know what we’re eating,” he replied, “although I don’t know what the rest of the crowd is getting.”

  Nella stopped walking and looked up at his face as he stopped, too. “What do you mean?”

  His raised brows and a slight grin suggested he knew exactly what she asked and why she was asking. “Well, I told you I got us some supplies. That included food. Now, I’m not any kind of great cook, but if you’re okay with frozen dinners with embellishments, I’ll take care of our cooking for tonight.”

  “But—”

  “And I can bring you up-to-date on my conversations with the cops.”

  What could she do but agree?

  And the idea of joining him alone for dinner—truly alone this time, not out in public, and where they could talk about anything—really sounded good.