“That’s right,” Beau said, getting to his feet.
“You’ve come to the right place,” Tad said. “We’ve got just about any breed you might be looking for. The fact that you are willing to give a home to a full-grown dog gives you a larger selection than if you were intent on a puppy. Do you have an idea of the breed?”
“Nope,” Beau said. “But I’ll know what I want when I see it.”
“Excuse me?” Tad said.
“I said I’ll recognize which animal I want when I spot it,” Beau repeated.
“Do you want to look at photos first?” Tad asked. “We have pictures of all the dogs that are available.”
“I’d prefer to see the animals themselves,” Beau said.
“Okay,” Tad said agreeably. He escorted Beau past the secretary and through the rear of the building that was filled with animal cages. It had a mild barnyard smell that competed with a cloying odor of deodorant. Tad explained that the dogs housed inside were being treated by the vet who came every other day. Most of these dogs weren’t barking. Some looked ill.
The back yard of the shelter had rows of chain-link cages. Down the center were two long runs enclosed with chain-link fences. The floor of the whole complex was concrete. Coils of hose were stacked against the back of the building.
Tad led Beau down the first aisle. The dogs barked wildly at the sight of them. Tad maintained a running commentary on the pluses of each breed they passed. He paused longest at a cage that housed a standard poodle. It was a silver-gray color with dark, pleading eyes. It seemed to understand the urgency of its plight.
Beau shook his head, and they moved on.
While Tad was discussing the good qualities of a black Lab, Beau stopped and gazed in at a large, powerful, fawn-colored dog who returned his stare with mild curiosity.
“How about this one?” Beau asked.
Tad raised his eyebrows when he saw which dog Beau was referring to. “That’s a beautiful animal,” he said. “But he’s big and very strong. Are you interested in a dog that large?”
“What’s the breed?” Beau asked.
“Bullmastiff,” Tad said. “People are generally afraid of them because of their size, and this guy probably could take your arm off if he were so inclined. But he seems to have a good disposition. The word ‘mastiff’ actually comes from a Latin word that means ‘tame.’”
“How come this dog is here?” Beau asked.
“I’ll be honest with you,” Tad said. “The previous owners had an unexpected child. They were afraid of the dog’s reaction and didn’t want to take a chance. The dog loves to hunt small game.”
“Open the door,” Beau suggested. “Let’s see if we get along.”
“Let me get a choke collar,” Tad said. He went back and disappeared inside the building.
Beau bent down and opened a small feeding door. The dog got up from where he was sitting against the back of the cage and came over to smell Beau’s hand. His tail wagged tentatively.
Reaching into his pocket Beau pulled out another of his black discs. Holding it between his thumb and index finger with the index finger on the top of the dome, he pressed it against the dog’s shoulder. Almost immediately the dog let out a muffled yelp and took a step back. He tilted his head questioningly.
Beau pocketed the disc just as Tad reappeared with the leash.
“Did he yelp?” Tad asked as he joined Beau.
“I guess I was scratching him too hard,” Beau said.
Tad opened the door to the cage. For a moment the dog hesitated, looking back and forth between the two humans.
“Come on, big boy,” Tad said. “For the size of you, you shouldn’t be so hesitant.”
“What’s his name?” Beau asked.
“King,” Tad said. “Actually it’s King Arthur. But that’s going a bit far. Can you imagine trying to yell ‘King Arthur’ out your back door?”
“King’s a good name,” Beau said.
Tad got the collar on King and led him out of the cage. Beau reached out to pet him, but King hung back.
“Come on, King!” Tad complained. “Here’s your big chance. Don’t blow it.”
“It’s okay,” Beau said. “I like him. I think he’s perfect.”
“Does that mean you’ll take him?” Tad asked.
“Absolutely,” Beau said. He took the leash, then squatted down and gave King a few pats on the head. King’s tail slowly rose and then began to wag.
“I don’t have much time,” Cassy said to Pitt. They were walking down the corridor from the emergency room, heading toward the student overnight ward. “I’ve only got an hour between classes.”
“This will only take a minute,” Pitt said. “I just hope we are not too late.”
They arrived at the room that Beau had occupied. Unfortunately for the moment they couldn’t enter. Two workmen were struggling to carry out the twisted, disassembled bed.
“Look at the headboard,” Pitt said.
“Weird,” Cassey said. “It does look like it melted.”
As soon as they could they stepped inside. Additional workmen were busy removing other warped fixtures including the metal supports for the suspended ceiling. Someone else was reglazing the window.
“Do they have any idea of what happened yet?” Cassy asked.
“Not a clue,” Pitt said. “After the autopsy there was a short-lived scare about radiation, but the room and the general area was exhaustively checked and there wasn’t any.”
“Do you think there is any connection between all this and the way Beau has been acting?” Cassy asked.
“That’s why I wanted you to see this,” Pitt said. “I can’t imagine how, but after you told me he’d been acting differently, I started thinking. After all, he did occupy this room the afternoon before all this happened.”
“It is strange,” Cassy said. She walked over to look at the twisted arm that previously held the TV. It was as bizarre as the head of the bed. Just as she was about to rejoin Pitt, her eyes happened to meet those of the man replacing the glass.
The workman stared at Cassy for a beat, then eyed her body lasciviously, much the same way Mr. Partridge had leered at her the night before.
Cassy stepped over to Pitt and tugged at his sleeve. He was looking up at the institutional clock on the wall. He’d noticed that the hands had fallen off.
“Let’s get out of here,” Cassy said. She made a beeline for the door.
Out in the hall Pitt caught up to her. “Hey, slow down,” he said.
Cassy slowed. “Did you see the way that man at the window looked at me?” she demanded.
“No, I didn’t,” Pitt said. “What did he do?”
“He was like Partridge last night,” Cassy said. “What is it with these men? It’s as if they are reverting to adolescent behavior.”
“Aren’t construction workers famous for that?” Pitt asked.
“It was more than the proverbial cat-whistle and ‘hey baby,’” Cassy said. “This was more like visual rape. Maybe I can’t explain it to you. But a woman would know what I’m talking about. It’s unpleasant, even frightening.”
“You want me to go back in there and confront him?” Pitt asked.
Cassy shot him an “are you crazy” look. “Don’t be silly,” she said.
They got back to the ER.
“Well, I got to get to school,” Cassy said. “Thanks for inviting me over here, although seeing that room has hardly made me feel any better. I don’t know what to make of all this.”
“I’ll tell you what,” Pitt said. “Today is the day Beau and I play our three-on-three basketball. It will give me an opportunity to ask him what’s up.”
“Don’t mention that I said anything about sex,” Cassy said.
“Of course not,” Pitt said. “I’ll use the playing hooky to start things off. Then I’ll tell him straight out that last night at dinner and when we were walking around, he wasn’t the Beau I know. I mean the difference is subtle, but it’s real.”