She raised her head to look at him with dull eyes and then let her head flop back to the floor as if it were too heavy to hold up.
Approaching the kennel, he noticed several solid lumps amid the liquid mess, lumps that looked like small, white balloons. Puzzled, he turned to grab a pair of latex gloves. After putting them on, he entered the kennel and picked up one of the lumps. Sure enough, it was a balloon, and it contained something, a substance that felt solid between his fingers but shifted when he squeezed it, like sand or powder.
A possibility burst into his sluggish brain.
Stripping off one of his gloves, he reached into his pocket to pull out the deputy’s business card. Then he reached for his cell phone.
When Mattie checked her caller ID, it read, “Wireless Caller,” and gave an unfamiliar number. She answered the call anyway. “Deputy Cobb.”
“This is Dr. Walker. Could you come to the clinic?”
“Is Belle all right?”
“She’s pretty sick. There’s something I need to show you.”
“I can be there in about ten minutes.”
She disconnected the call and glanced at Robo. He remained hunched over his bone.
While she put her things away, she wondered what to do with him. She’d accepted the responsibility of taking care of this valuable animal when she agreed to be his handler, and that meant keeping him safe and secure twenty-four hours each and every day. Taking him with her might expose him to Belle’s illness. Much as she hated it, she was going to have to break up his bone fest and leave him locked up in the house.
She stepped out on the porch and called him.
Robo arched over his bone, pulling it close to his chest. Then he remained still, every muscle tensed, as he avoided eye contact.
Oh, Christ, now he’s going to challenge me for the bone.
She stepped off the porch and approached him. “Leave it,” she said in a firm voice.
Robo’s eyes flicked her way, then off to the distance as he placed his chin on the bone.
“Robo, come,” she commanded, pointing to a spot directly in front of her feet.
With a covetous glance at the bone, Robo forced himself away from it and slinked up to sit by her feet. Exhaling a sigh of relief, Mattie placed a hand on his collar to keep him from returning to the bone. “Good boy. Come with me.”
Together they moved toward the house, Mattie proud that she’d won an important skirmish. Aggressive male dogs often challenged their handlers, and it was crucial to stay in charge.
Once inside, Mattie gave Robo one of the small Milk-Bones she kept handy in a bowl on the counter. Though he took it, he gave her a look that said he knew she’d taken him away from something better.
“You can chew your bone later. But now you’re going to wait here while I go out for a little while.”
Mattie checked his water bowl and, finding it full, grabbed the keys to her patrol car.
“You be good while I’m gone. I’ll be back soon.”
As she left, Robo watched with a hangdog expression that made her want to take him with her.
After turning onto the highway, she headed out of town. About a mile outside the city limits, she turned down the lane that led to the vet clinic.
As she drove past the log home that belonged to the vet, Mattie noticed that lights were on inside. She wondered about his family. She’d seen his wife around town, one of those gorgeous women who always looked perfect. She knew they had kids—she’d seen two girls with their mother—and she’d noticed the doctor before, too. With his walnut-colored hair and eyes and rugged good looks, he was hard to miss.
She’d also heard that the vet’s wife had left him. It was amazing the things you picked up when you were having dinner at Clucken House.
She pulled up in front of the clinic, exited the patrol car, and went to the front door. Finding it unlocked, she let herself into the lobby.
“Come on in here,” the vet called from the other room.
Going through the swinging door, Mattie saw Walker bending over Belle, who was prostrate upon the stainless steel exam table. Mattie’s heart sank. “What’s wrong with her?”
“She’s had severe diarrhea, and she’s dehydrated. I need to get her started on some fluids.” Walker handed Mattie a green lab coat. “Wear this to protect your clothing. Could you help hold her while I put in an IV?”
“Sure.” Mattie put on the lab coat and then reached to pick up Belle’s foreleg. The dog’s fur was matted and dirty . . . and she reeked. Seeing the beautiful animal in such a condition brought an ache to Mattie’s chest. She stroked the white blaze on Belle’s head with her free hand.
They worked together in silence while Walker shaved a patch of hair off the inside of Belle’s leg. To Mattie, it was obvious the man was dead on his feet. His face was ashen, and circles of fatigue darkened the skin beneath his eyes as if drawn there with charcoal.
Walker circled his fingers around Belle’s foreleg near the elbow joint and squeezed. “Hold it tightly,” he said to Mattie. “Like this.”
Taking a firm grip on Belle’s leg with both hands, Mattie tried to hold it exactly like he’d shown her. When the vet poked the IV needle through Belle’s skin, Mattie looked away, but her eyes drifted back in spite of herself. Blood dripped from the open end of the needle when he found the vein, and Walker quickly attached tubing and a bag of fluid.
“You can release now,” he said as he taped the IV in place with long strips of white tape.
He moved over to the countertop behind him and picked up a plastic bag. Turning, he held it out for Mattie to see. “I found these in her kennel. She passed them through her bowel. They’re evidently what made her so sick.”
Inside the plastic bag were several items that Mattie recognized instantly. Balloons. And they were filled with something. Dope.
Feeling her jaw drop, Mattie raised her eyes to the doctor’s face. “But how did someone get her to swallow it?”
“I’ve been thinking about that. A big, docile Bernese mountain dog like this? Someone probably choked it down her, past her tongue. Then they followed it with something good, meat or something, to make her swallow.”
Mattie placed a hand on Belle’s head, gazing down at the sweet dog. “Someone used you as a mule,” she said, thinking aloud. The heartache she felt for Belle’s plight turned quickly to anger. “Who could have done this to her?”
“Maybe the same person who shot her.”
Mattie’s mind raced. Taking these dope-filled balloons into consideration, the person who killed Grace had to be involved with transporting drugs. Mike Chadron? Did that explain why he and his dogs were missing?
Walker threw away the wrappers that had come off his supplies. “Thanks for helping me get the IV started. It’ll take a while to drip. You’re free to go if you want.”
Mattie decided now was as good a time as any to give him the bad news about Grace, even though he looked too tired to handle it. “There’s something I need to tell you first.”
“What?”
“We found Grace Hartman’s body this morning. In the same place we found Belle.”
He looked dumbfounded, shook his head in denial. “That can’t be. Are you sure?”
“Yes, her parents have identified her body.”
His breath expelled as if he’d been punched. He looked around, found an exam stool, and sat down on it. “She just got her driver’s license. Was it a car accident?”
Mattie shook her head and made a quick decision to share the manner of death. He and his daughter would need to know that much in order to set up an interview. “No, she was shot and then buried in the forest. Belle had uncovered her, and my patrol dog found them. We don’t know yet if the shooting was accidental.”