Pick and Chews Read online

  “He’s waiting there”—Arvie nodded down the hall toward his office—“so I’m about to find out.”

  I wondered how things had turned out with his interview of Oliver but didn’t ask … yet. Particularly because Reed leveled a look at me that suggested he wanted me to stay quiet. I had no problem with that. I had an idea of what he was about to say, and I was right.

  “By the way, there’s someone else visiting here from my old haunt,” he told our boss. “She might contact you for an interview, but I don’t think you’d like her. She showed up without an invitation because she knew Oliver and Jon were coming. I’ve told her to go back to San Diego, and if you hear from her I’d suggest you do the same. She wouldn’t be a good asset here.”

  Arvie clearly hadn’t met Raela, since, frowning, he asked, “Who’s that?”

  “It’s me, damn you!” The ladies’ room door burst open and the woman being discussed stomped out. “And you, Reed Storme, are a fool—and a damned sorry excuse for a vet. That’s why you left San Diego. We all knew it.”

  “No,” Reed growled. “Everyone but you realized that one major reason I left is that you were there. Even our bosses couldn’t get rid of you, though they were working on it.”

  “No way!” she shouted, and I looked around. Fortunately no one else was in the hall, though undoubtedly a lot of people had heard it. Certainly their dogs did, with their superior hearing, and a couple started barking. “I’m a much better vet than you’ll ever be,” Raela continued. “I was nice to you then because you seemed so lost, and because … well, you seemed interested in me, not that I saw you like that.”

  “Get over yourself.” Reed looked anything but interested. Now, at least. But I couldn’t help wondering about then.

  “Oh, I’m way over you. And now, now—well, it’s time for me to make sure you don’t hurt any animals. I’ve never been to Knobcone Heights before but it seems nice. I just might open my own veterinary hospital here. I’ve been thinking about breaking out on my own anyway, and a couple of well-qualified vet friends will undoubtedly be delighted to join me.”

  I glanced toward Arvie. He didn’t look pleased. Because of the potential competition? Maybe, but I figured it was also because of his affinity for Knobcone Heights and the distressing idea that such a terror of a female vet might wind up living here.

  “Forget it.” Reed’s voice was a snarl. “You in charge? Talk about the possibility of animals being hurt or worse … that would do it. The only thing you might be able to manage, with effort, is a dog-walking business, with yourself as the only employee, not a successful veterinary clinic that does the best job for its patients.”

  “Just wait,” Raela said. “You’ll hear from me again.”

  This time, she stomped down the hall, through the reception area, and out the front door. I knew because I followed at a careful distance.

  When I turned again Reed wasn’t there, though Arvie was. “Any idea what that was all about?” he asked as he joined me.

  “I was going to ask you the same thing.” The looks we traded were bewildered yet compassionate, or so I believed.

  “Do you think she was the main reason Reed came here?” Arvie asked.

  “I wouldn’t be surprised,” I said. Or would I?

  I hoped Reed and I still would get together for dinner that night. I’d try to get more answers then.

  Arvie left the reception area, probably heading to his office for his next interview. In the meantime, Kayle asked me to prepare an exam room for Princess, the next patient: a young kitten here for her first checkup. Dr. Paul Jensin, another vet who’d helped start the clinic, would be in charge. Helping him was fine with me. Staying out of Reed’s presence might be best for now.

  Once the room was ready I headed into the reception area to get Princess and her owner, greeting some of our other arrivals but hurrying to bring our new patient to Paul, whom I saw in the hallway. He was a tall guy, thin and gaunt-looking, and judging by the way he talked to people versus pets, he greatly preferred the latter—which I could understand.

  In the exam room, Paul gave some extra cuddles to the cute Persian kitty, and so did I, and fortunately the little girl checked out just fine, pending the results of the blood test we took.

  It was nearing the end of my shift, which was short that day, but I accompanied Princess and her mom back to the reception area. Kayle still presided there, and the only patients in the room had been present earlier, too—Shea Alderson and his two dogs: Earl, a pit bull mix, and Buffer, a yellow Lab mix. Both had been in a few weeks earlier for a checkup, but, as I recalled, they were due now for shots.

  “Hey Carrie, how’s it going?” Shea asked.

  “Fine, thanks,” I replied. Shea also knew me from my shops, or at least the Barkery, since he brought Earl and Buffer in there every week or so. Plus he was a nice guy who volunteered at Mountaintop Rescue. I’d run into him there several times.

  “How are your guys?” I bent to give both dogs a hug.

  “Not so thrilled about the idea of shots, but hungry for some special Barkery treats.” Shea grinned. “I don’t suppose you have any here?”

  I had brought in a couple bags of items that were starting to age a bit—not bad yet, but in danger of not being edible soon. I’d planned to leave one bag at the clinic when I left and, assuming I had enough time, I’d take the other bag to Mountaintop Rescue, which was not far from the clinic.

  But how could I resist a request like Shea’s?

  “I might be able to scrounge up a few.” I glanced toward Kayle, who rolled his eyes toward the ceiling. “As long as that’s legal.”

  “I can provide a legal opinion,” Shea offered with a smile.

  I’d learned during one of his visits to the Barkery that Shea was a lawyer, and also relatively new to the area. He had his own firm in a different downtown location than Ted Culbert, another attorney in Knobcone Heights, whom I’d hired in some difficult circumstances and now referred others to as well. Ted was a criminal attorney, but I gathered that Shea had more of a general practice.

  Shea put his index finger on his chin and furrowed his brow. “Okay, here it is. Barkery treats can always be scrounged up and fed to my dogs as long as they’re made from healthy ingredients and taste good.”

  “Then we’ve got a deal. Wait here for just a minute.” I hurried to the vet tech room, which now was empty, and grabbed my bag of Barkery treats. When I returned to the reception area, Kayle wasn’t present. In fact, Shea was the only human there.

  I pulled out a couple of my special carob biscuits and handed them to the two dogs.

  “So tell me,” Shea said as the pups started begging for more. “What was going on earlier? I saw a lady storm through here as if she’d literally been kicked in the butt. Does she have a sick pet at the clinic?”

  “No, she was involved in a little disagreement,” was all I said. Raela was the one who seemed sick—in the head. But I wasn’t about to tell Shea that. “Anyway, come on back and let’s get these beautiful boys taken care of. Oh, and to encourage them … ” I broke another treat in half and gave one piece to each dog.

  Arvie was the vet who came into the exam room to take care of Shea’s dogs, so I figured his interview with Dr. Jon Arden was over. I wondered how it had gone—and what Jon was like. Clearly, he’d be better than Raela. Anyone would be better than her.

  Oh, well. At least she wasn’t at the clinic any longer, though she’d indicated she was staying in town, at least for now.

  It turned out I was wrong about where she was.

  I soon clocked out, changed out of my tech scrubs, and hurried to the doggy daycare facility at the back of the clinic to get my Biscuit. The place consisted of a large room with a shiny beige linoleum floor that could easily be cleaned in case of accidents. For those pets who didn’t deal well with others, crates of different sizes sat along the walls.

  My little Biscuit got along well with everyone. She was loose in the middle of th
e room with other dogs, ranging from a golden retriever to a little Yorkie mix, with four others also in the game. And standing at the reception desk talking to Faye, manager of the daycare, and her assistants Al and Charlie, was my good buddy —not—Raela.

  As soon as I came in, Raela turned her head to look at me, and the grin she leveled on me appeared evil. “Oh, hello,” she said. “I understand one of those dogs is yours.”

  I assumed Faye had told her this—but what had Raela asked? I’d figured Raela knew nothing about me except that I worked at the clinic as a vet tech.

  “That’s right,” I said. I wished I didn’t have to indicate which dog it was, but Biscuit and I needed to leave. “Do you have a dog here, too? You know, this is a place where pets are dropped off, and only the people who work here hang around.” I hoped this was a roundabout hint that if she didn’t have a pet present, as I assumed, she didn’t belong here.

  “I just wanted to check it out.” Raela’s voice was calm, her expression much too angelic. “For when I open my own veterinary clinic in the area. In case I decide to do something similar.”

  Faye’s brown eyes opened wide and she looked toward me as if totally puzzled. I figured that whatever Raela had told her, she hadn’t indicated that she was looking into doing something competitive.

  Faye was in her forties, thin and energetic and dedicated to making sure her charges were all cared for well. Al and Charlie, who both wore standard red shirts that said Knobcone Vets Rock over their jeans, were twenty-something guys considering veterinary school. I wondered if Raela would attempt to advise them at all. I certainly hoped not.

  “Er … excuse me,” Faye said, “but I thought you wanted to know how we handle things around here so you could feel comfortable bringing the little French bulldog you described for a visit soon.” Her voice was a little higher than usual, and she kept glancing from Raela to me and back again.

  “Oh, I just like French bulls,” Raela said. “Other dogs, too, of course. And cats. And other animals. I’m a damned good vet, a whole lot better than your staff. Anyway, I’m out of here now, but see you again soon.”

  Then she left the daycare, too—swaying in her businesslike blouse and skirt this time instead of stomping. She seemed to be gaining confidence somehow. About what? She knew she wasn’t getting hired at our clinic.

  But she had threatened to open a competing clinic. Was she serious about that?

  Well, any new clinic she launched wouldn’t be successful. All of us would be sure to tell the world how nutty the woman was. Right? But judging by Al’s and Charlie’s looks, they found her attractive. Faye, at least, seemed to recognize that there was something wrong here.

  I was looking forward to my dinner that night with Reed, for multiple reasons. Raela had definitely made a bad impression on me, and I didn’t want to get to know her any better. But I did want to learn what was really going on with her, and I felt fairly certain that the only person who could explain anything about her was Reed.

  I shuddered inside about what I might learn from him regarding who she was—and what his relationship with her had been.

  For now, I called my Biscuit. She ran from where she’d been playing and all but leaped into my arms as I knelt. “Hi, sweetheart.” I snuggled my face against her soft, warm fur.

  “Carrie, if that Raela woman comes back, should I tell her to get lost?” Faye asked, standing beside me on the linoleum floor.

  I rose. “That’s up to you. I’m not sure why she was back here in the daycare area, but then I’m not sure why she visited the clinic at all—except possibly to give Reed a hard time.”

  “Really?” This time Faye’s eyes were narrow, and she appeared highly curious. Of course, she knew Reed and I were seeing each other, so I suspected she wanted to know what I was thinking.

  I wanted to know what I was thinking, too, but I wasn’t going to focus on anything till I had a chance to discuss this odd situation with Reed.

  “Yeah, probably,” I replied. “Anyway, I’ve got to leave. If I learn anything interesting, I’ll let you know.” That sounded good, but it would depend a lot on what, if anything, I found out. “See you at my next shift.”

  I’d already grabbed my jacket from my locker, since the spring day remained chilly. At least we didn’t currently have snow in the San Bernardino Mountains, which was a good thing—especially since I intended to take a few minutes to drop in at Mountaintop Rescue to leave my other bag of doggy goodies.

  I’d driven my aging white Toyota sedan to the clinic today, though I often walked. But I’d wanted to run some errands after my shift, plus this way I could leave that extra goodie bag in the trunk.

  The rescue shelter was only a couple of blocks from the vet clinic, but the streets were a bit crowded, so it took me a little longer than usual to drive there. Plus, I stopped to get gas. But I soon parked at the rear of the attractive, gold-colored administration building and heard dogs barking from the enclosed kennels inside the fence. Before I went in, I gave Biscuit a brief walk in case she needed to relieve herself, but she mostly just sniffed the air and moved her long, fluffy ears as if listening. I tugged gently on her leash to get her attention, and then we walked to the front of the shelter and entered.

  One of my favorite receptionists, Mimi, was at the large, chest-high wooden desk that helped to keep visitors contained until they were welcomed inside. As always, she wore a shirt with either a dog or cat on it—this time, a cartoon hound with a huge tongue. Mimi’s youthful face lighted up with a big smile, as usual. “Hi, Carrie and Biscuit. I assume you want to see Billi, right?”

  Billi was also known as City Councilwoman Wilhelmina Matlock. In addition to running the shelter and serving as an elected official, she owned Robust Retreat, a day spa. She and I had become good friends.

  “Yes,” I told Mimi. “Is she here?”

  “She is, but she’s got someone with her. I’ll let her know you’re here, though.”

  “Oh, that’s okay, if she’s busy. I can just leave my treats with you.” I held up the bag and handed it over the desk to Mimi, who seemed to welcome it.

  “Thanks. But Billi won’t be happy if I don’t at least tell her you’re visiting.” She picked up a cell phone and pushed a button, but before Billi could have heard it, she appeared at the top of the steps behind Mimi, off to my right.

  “Hi, Carrie,” she called.

  As I waved and started to respond, I noticed she wasn’t alone. Raela was with her.

  What—here, too?

  Plus, Shea suddenly appeared from the doorway that led into the shelter area.

  I felt rather stunned. Were Reed and Arvie and Faye going to show up here as well? I’d just seen them recently too, after all.

  Raela and Billi reached the bottom of the steps, and Raela faced me over the tall desk. “Are you following me, Carrie?” she demanded—though her snide expression suggested she wasn’t as taken aback as I was.

  “Nope,” I said. “How about vice versa?”

  “I was here first,” she retorted.

  Then Shea, who’d walked over to us, chimed in. “Or maybe you’re following me, Carrie. It’s legal to follow a lawyer, you know, as long as I don’t feel threatened.” But he was smiling and I knew he was joking.

  “I thought I’d heard you’re a lawyer.” Raela’s tone sounded excited and she bounced between Shea and me, facing him. “I might need to hire a lawyer for what I want to accomplish here in Knobcone Heights, like opening my own veterinary clinic. I’m a better vet than anyone in town, you know.”

  Shea’s glance at her appeared as dubious as it should. “I doubt that.” He moved away and nodded toward me. “There’s already a very good veterinary clinic in town.”

  “Then you won’t represent me?” Raela seemed to pout.

  “I didn’t say that. But you’ll have to set up an appointment with me one of these days to talk.”

  “Yeah. Sure. I will. Someday.”

  Her tone indicated to
me she’d never meet with him now.

  “Care to see any of the pups I’ve been volunteering with here today?” Shea asked me. “And in case you’re wondering, my own dogs are back at home.”

  I had wondered about that for an instant when I first saw him. As my gaze met Billi’s, though, I spoke only to her. “I was here dropping off some treats, and Biscuit and I have to run back to the shops now.”

  “Thanks.” Billi looked as puzzled as I felt. “Let’s talk later.”

  “Great.” I left, feeling all those sets of eyes on me.

  Puzzled? I was stymied—as if I’d leaped into some kind of odd sci-fi adventure. Why had Raela come to the shelter? And why right now?

  On the other hand, I mused as I harnessed Biscuit into the backseat of my car, as a vet who’d just arrived in town, Raela would naturally have some interest in the local shelter. And I already knew that Shea volunteered there. There really was nothing particularly woo-woo in either one showing up there.

  But when I arrived at the rear of my two shops a short while later and started getting Biscuit out of the backseat, I again had a sense of woo-woo-ness. My phone rang, and when I answered, it was Reed.

  “Sorry, Carrie, but I have to call off our dinner tonight. Gotta run now, but let’s reschedule for tomorrow, okay?”

  I had nothing in particular going on the next night, so I said yes.

  And then I wondered what the heck was wrong with my life, and its karma, that day.

  Three

  At least nothing appeared to be going wrong at either of my shops: Barkery and Biscuits, my healthy doggy-treat shop, or Icing on the Cake, with its fun people treats. After parking in back, I walked around to the street at the front of the building since Biscuit was leashed beside me. The two shops shared a kitchen, which opened into the parking lot, and dogs weren’t permitted by the health laws to walk through it. But Biscuit could hang out in the shop part of the Barkery all the time, if she and I wished—and she did manage to spend a lot of time there, nearly as much as I spent at my dual venture.