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Pick and Chews Page 7
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I’d seen him angry with Raela before, but the word anger didn’t begin to describe the fury on his face. It nearly obliterated the features I considered handsome. Now Reed appeared to be like some kind of raging creature that was too wild to be treated in our wonderful clinic for pets.
“Get the hell out of here, Raela,” he shouted.
“Well, hello, Reed,” she said, standing still and tossing an even bigger smile his way. “I was hoping I’d run into you here.” She handed him one of the flyers. “Like I said, I had some news to tell you, and I can’t think of a better time to tell you than now.”
Eight
I wanted to shout at this brazen witch, too. Tell her where to go—and I didn’t necessarily mean to whatever place she’d chosen for her supposed veterinary clinic.
But I could see the curious and uneasy stares of the half dozen pet parents and the resultant movement of their dogs and cats near their feet. I most certainly didn’t want our attitudes to be the trigger that hurled them toward Raela’s new facility. Some of the people were even studying the flyers, so it wasn’t too much of a guess to think they might consider giving the new place a try even if they’d been happy here.
I held out my hand to Raela for a flyer. “Congratulations.” I forced myself not to sound too sarcastic.
“Well, thank you.” She handed me a piece of paper, and I glanced at it briefly. The clinic’s name was surrounded by photos of several dogs and cats and some hearts, which I supposed was meant to indicate that her patients would be loved and cared for. She had audaciously included a tagline saying that it was the best veterinary facility in town. She could say anything without living up to it, of course. And as I’d wondered before, she surely hadn’t had time to obtain all the licenses and approvals necessary to open her facility as a legitimate veterinary hospital.
The address was on Hill Street, as was our clinic, but the number indicated that it was way past Mountaintop Rescue, maybe near the supermarket that was just out of town. There weren’t a lot of buildings out there. I wasn’t too familiar with the area and couldn’t picture just where this was.
Raela had also included a few reviews on her flyer—good ones about her as a vet, not about her new clinic. They were probably false, but the minimal identification of the reviewers indicated that they were based on her prior work in San Diego.
“Does everyone have a flyer now?” she asked, ignoring the fact that Reed stood beside her, glaring at but not touching her—a good thing. All the people in the room seemed to be holding one of the flyers. I wanted to snatch them back and burn them but held myself still.
“Good,” she continued. “I’ll leave a few more here—but not a lot, since I doubt they’ll last very long.” Her grin was large again, and after laying some of the papers down on a table between a couple of the waiting room chairs, she reached up to pat Reed on the cheek before oozing her way out the front door.
I hurried to place myself beside Falcon, who sat on the floor beside his owner, Joan. She looked as puzzled as the rest of the people here.
“Everything’s okay, folks,” Reed muttered, waving a hand without meeting anyone’s eyes. He then went back through the door to the inside of the clinic. I took that to mean that everything should now continue as usual, and I should get back to work.
I laughed a little and said to the crowd, “Well, it appears that Knobcone Veterinary Clinic is about to have some competition. We’re the best as well as the first, of course, and will stay that way. You can be certain of it.”
I held out my hand for Falcon’s leash, and Joan handed me the end. “He just needs shots today,” she said.
“We’ll give him a quick exam to make sure he’s healthy, too.” It was our regular practice to at least ask questions to make sure there were no changes in the pet’s behavior at home. Today we might even go into more detail.
Today, we’d want to look even better than the best.
On my way toward the door, followed by Joan, I stopped briefly and whispered to Kayle that the flyers on the table needed to disappear, as Raela had figured they would.
Then I took Falcon and his mom to the examination room where Reed now waited.
Fortunately, he’d calmed down. “Well, that was interesting, wasn’t it?” He didn’t wait for Joan to answer. “Now tell me how Falcon has been doing. Eating well? Any problems?” He pulled out his stethoscope and listened to the dog’s heart. The rest of the exam, and the shots, seemed to go well, as it usually did.
In fact, the rest of my shift seemed completely normal—except for seeing the quick conversations that others who worked at the clinic engaged in. And I did get an opportunity to say hi to Arvie, a couple of patients after Falcon.
“You were there,” he said in a low voice, after following me as I showed a cat and her owner out to the reception area once more.
“Yep,” I said quietly. We now stood in the quiet hallway near the closed door to the lobby.
“I know you told Kayle to get rid of those flyers, but he just hid them, so several of us got a chance to look at them. Nothing outstanding there, except the hype about being new and claiming to be the best in town. But advertising and promotion always says that.”
“True,” I said. “But in this case, I think the person making the claim will go out of her way to make people think it’s true.”
“Maybe. Well, look, I intend to have a short meeting about how we should handle this—late tomorrow morning, maybe. Would you be able to come?”
“Sure. Just tell me a time and I’ll do all I can to be here whenever you say.”
The wrinkles edging my boss’s eyes crinkled as he smiled at me. “I always knew I could count on you. And I just might be asking you more questions on how to promote a business. You’ve been doing well with your bakeries, and we might need some advice on how to keep our vet hospital at the top in everyone’s estimation around here.”
“You know I’ll help as much as I possibly can.” I gave him a quick hug, then hurried back to the reception area.
The rest of my shift was relatively normal, although a couple of the owners who’d been there when Raela put on her show asked questions, like what it had all been about. I just said we’d met that veterinarian before and she’d said she might open her own clinic in town. Though I thought about doing it, I didn’t mention Raela’s bad reputation with her former coworkers. That might have simply seemed spiteful, and, besides, I only had Reed’s word for it. I did, however, urge people to stay with us and suggested that, if they considered trying her out, they should wait till other locals had used her and given her some kind of positive ratings.
“That would be in the best interest of your pet,” I emphasized. And I figured that since pet parents love their fur-kids, they would heed this and not go running off to the new place—assuming all at our clinic continued to go well.
A while later, as I got ready to leave, I stopped in at Reed’s office but he wasn’t there. I hadn’t seen him in any exam room for a while either, although that didn’t mean he wasn’t still around. I figured I’d get in touch with him later, not to meet up, necessarily, but just to talk.
And to make sure he was doing okay.
Biscuit and I walked back to the shops, and the atmosphere felt a lot better there than it had at the vet clinic. I didn’t tell my assistants the details of what had gone on during my shift, but a couple of them—Dinah, then Janelle—took me aside to ask if I was okay. I wasn’t sure whether I appeared upset or worried or … well, maybe I just was not my usual self.
They both had ulterior motives for checking, of course—Dinah because she was always conducting research, and Janelle because of how close she was to my brother.
I told them generally what had occurred but kept my tone and attitude light. They knew me well enough to see through that, but they didn’t press for more information.
Vicky was the only other assistant working at the time. She asked a few questions too, after some eavesdropping on m
y conversations with the others, but all she did was express confidence in our existing veterinary clinic. I appreciated that.
Eventually it was time to close the shops for the night. All three of my assistants helped ensure that only the items that would still be fresh tomorrow remained in the cases, segregating out those a little less fresh to donate to the vet clinic and Mountaintop Rescue, or to the down-the-mountain charity.
It occurred to me that this was a benefit Raela’s new vet clinic wouldn’t have: my special and healthy dog treats. Unless she decided to buy some of mine, which was a worrying thought.
Biscuit and I were the last to leave. I buckled her into her harness on the backseat of my car, then realized I was in dire need of groceries. I could use some more frozen dinners for nights like tonight when I anticipated eating alone and had no desire to do any cooking. Neal ate those kinds of meals sometimes, too. Plus, I wouldn’t mind having some pre-cut salads around so I didn’t have to put any effort in that, either. And—
Well, it was a cool enough evening that I wouldn’t worry about Biscuit baking in the car. The windows would be slightly open, of course, but I wouldn’t leave her in there very long anyway. My foray into the grocery store would be short.
Which it was. But as I returned to my car through the crowded parking lot, I allowed myself to wonder about why I’d really come to the supermarket tonight.
I was going to take a detour rather than head straight home.
I was going to continue driving along Hill Street, farther out of town—to where Raela’s new veterinary clinic was located.
Okay, that was the real reason for this excursion. I admitted it to myself. No one else needed to know about it.
After sticking my bags in the trunk and giving Biscuit a big hug of greeting, I buckled my seat belt and pulled out of the parking lot, making a left turn. I didn’t remember the full address of her clinic, but after glancing at the number on the front of the grocery store, I realized that the address on the flyer had indicated it was a couple blocks away.
Sure enough, when I reached that block, I saw that a building resembling a small house had a makeshift sign on its front window: Heights Veterinary Care Clinic. The outside didn’t appear particularly snazzy or professional, and I didn’t see any off-street parking or other amenities.
I pulled into a gas station parking lot across the street and just sat there, my car idling and Biscuit stirring in the backseat.
I stared at the building. There was a faint glow coming from the front window, as if a light was on somewhere inside. Was someone present, or had the light simply been left turned on? If it was the former, I assumed it would be Raela. What was she up to at this hour? Doing something to fix up her new veterinary clinic?
Of course, I was looking for issues. Raela’s clinic might have already been fully set up inside to do exams and lab work and even surgery, for all I knew—although I would certainly worry about any pet undergoing care in a place that hadn’t been adequately remodeled and filled with items necessary for complete care. And I still had doubts Raela could have obtained all approvals this fast.
I couldn’t exactly sneak in to find out what it was like. Maybe I could come up with something that would make me seem like caring competition without giving the vets and others at my own clinic reason to mistrust me. Or—
I drew in my breath as I watched the front door open and saw who strode out.
Reed.
Nine
I thought about dashing out of my car toward him. Or staying inside and honking my horn to get his attention.
Or doing nothing except staying where I was and watching him—which was what I did. His car was parked along the street, though I hadn’t noticed it before. He got in and drove off.
Reed had been far enough away that I couldn’t completely read the expression on his face, but from what I could tell, it looked more blank than angry. In other words, I couldn’t tell what he was thinking. That wasn’t unusual, although I could generally figure out his mood.
Biscuit stirred in the backseat. “You’re right, girl,” I told her. “We should go, too.” Although an urge to cross the street and visit the new vet clinic tugged again at my mind—to look it over and assess it. That would mean I’d need to see Raela. She had to be in there, since Reed had been. But even if checking out the place was a good idea, just happening to drop in after Reed’s visit didn’t seem right. Raela might surmise that I was following Reed and add that to her list of things to harass him about.
And so I headed home, following Reed at a discreet distance until he turned off to head for his house in a more elite section of town.
Biscuit and I soon reached our home and I pulled into the garage. Neal’s car wasn’t there, which wasn’t surprising. I didn’t know, though, if he would come home that night or if Janelle and he were spending it together at her place.
I unhooked Biscuit from her tether and held her leash as she took advantage of the brief outing. Then I got the bags of groceries from the trunk and we went inside.
I ate part of the pre-cut salad I’d bought, and microwaved one of the frozen dinners. Of course Biscuit got her meal first, then settled on the living room floor beside the fluffy white sofa where I sat to eat. Her dark, begging eyes remained on me, but I didn’t give her anything. Not then.
I chose to eat in the living room so I could keep the TV on in the background, hopefully moving my attention away from my quizzical thoughts. Did Raela have any patients yet? How modern was her clinic? Did she have any vet techs or other assistants? Was Oliver really working for her now?
And what the heck had Reed been doing there? Had they talked? Argued? Resolved their differences? And whatever it was, would he reveal it to me?
Good thing I’d also poured myself some wine. I vowed to only drink one glass, though. Otherwise I might inhale the entire bottle, and although that might send me to bed sooner, I didn’t want to even anticipate the kind of headache I could have upon awakening.
The news that evening was a bit boring, and there were no shows I particularly wanted to see. I left the TV on, though, as comforting background noise while I took my plate and wine glass into the kitchen. Biscuit’s eyes appeared full of hope again—still—as she followed me. “You need to earn your treats,” I told her, as I often did. Which wasn’t always the case, especially when I used her as a guinea dog—er, pig—for a new dog treat recipe.
I decided to watch a sitcom—not because it was a favorite show of mine, but it might keep my mind occupied enough to help me fall asleep later. I returned to the living room with a glass in my hand—water this time.
And yes, I’d given Biscuit a nice, healthy dog munchie before leaving the kitchen.
I’d settled down to watch the show when my phone rang in my pocket. I pulled it out. It was Reed. Was I surprised? Yes. I’d figured that no matter what had happened earlier, he wouldn’t want to talk to me, not that night at least.
“Hi, Reed,” I said immediately after muting the TV. I chose not to ask how he was doing. Not directly, at least. “How is Hugo tonight?” We both identified a lot with our dogs, so I figured if Hugo was doing okay, so was Reed.
“He’s fine. And Biscuit?” His voice wasn’t curt, nor was it sweet or sexy or—well, best I could tell, he was speaking as if we were friends but not necessarily close. Distant, I guess. I could have just been reading that into it, of course—or so I told myself.
“She’s doing well. So … how is your evening going?” Like, wouldn’t you rather be spending it with me? Especially if his mind was focused on the place he’d visited after work and how it looked.
And was he going to tell me about it?
The answer was yes. I found myself smiling slightly, maybe a bit sympathetically, as he said, “My evening’s okay, though it could be better. Look, you might think I’m nuts, but since Raela was nasty enough to drop off flyers with the address of her new place on them, I just had to go check it out.”
“Oh? Wow
. Really? What did you see?” And why the heck did you go inside? I knew a lot of possible answers to the last question but didn’t ask it. I might learn the answers as we talked.
Had it been curiosity? Anger? Interest in Raela professionally—or otherwise?
I wanted to encourage Reed to talk while keeping to myself my awareness that he’d been there. I settled back on my sofa, wishing now that I’d allowed myself just one more glass of wine.
“It’s a small clinic, so she’s not likely to have many vets on staff besides herself and Oliver. And, yes, before you ask, he was there too and said he’d all but committed to sign on with her, though he planned to go back to San Diego to talk to the bosses there before making a final decision. She’s already had the basic equipment installed and said she’s spoken with resources such as labs in the Lake Arrowhead area who can analyze blood tests and such.”
“So it’s possible she’ll give our clinic some real competition.”
“Yes, damn it.” Reed didn’t yell, but he sounded as if he was speaking through gritted teeth. “She didn’t say so, but as we talked she again made it clear she was rubbing the idea in my face—the face she wants me to fall on so I’ll quit being her competition, since we’re no longer friends, as if we ever were friends. Even so, if I thought she was any good as a vet, if she could treat animals as well as she should—medically, and with compassion and care—well, I’d be a lot more likely to accept her as a competitor.” He paused for a few seconds, then added, “I told her I’d do anything to make her give up this idea—for the protection of all the animals who might become her patients.”
I heard pain in his tone now and asked sympathetically, “And what was her response?”
“She laughed. Told me to wait and see what it felt like to be out-veterinarianed, to lose patients who would all flock to her in droves, or at least their owners would. She’d give them discounts and other benefits as well as guaranteeing that all who could be healed would be.”
“Guaranteeing?” On top of everything else, I felt shocked. No one can guarantee anything in medicine except to put all their effort into providing the best care possible.