Home Is Where the Bark Is (7 page)

Serena screwed her face up in sympathy. “Poor you.”

“Yeah. It hurt.” He looked again at the big dog, this time seeing him in a new light. Wanted to pet him. Share some kind of knee-injury-veteran camaraderie. But printed notices around Paws-A-While specifically asked owners not to touch dogs other than their own.

“The vet says Mack probably did it by running and stopping too suddenly. Apparently it’s not uncommon in dogs this size.”

Or big athletic men like himself. “I had surgery and got my injury fixed. Nearly as good as new.”

Serena nodded. “Mack needs surgery on his knee. As soon as possible.”

“So why doesn’t his owner do something about it?” Nick didn’t like to think of anyone—or any animal—enduring the pain he’d endured with his knee. He scanned the room. “Shouldn’t they be here by now?”

“Mack doesn’t have an owner. Or at least he did, but he never came back for him.”

“Some guy just abandoned his dog here?”

“Paid the first week in advance. Cash. Picked Mack up the first day. Picked him up the second. Then I never saw the owner again.”

So the pain in the dog’s eyes wasn’t just about his knee. Nick might not believe in ascribing human emotion to dogs. But he knew dogs got genuinely attached to humans.

For the first time in a long time he thought about his childhood dog. A working dog first and foremost but also a family pet that got taken to the vet when it needed it. Nick came from a line of unsentimental farmers. But not one of them would let an animal suffer unnecessarily. “How could someone be so irresponsible?”

Serena’s lush mouth set in a grim line. “Ask the people who run the animal shelters that question. The answer isn’t pretty.”

The big dog hauled himself upright. Nick noticed he put scarcely any weight on his back right leg. The same knee as his own injury. He winced in sympathy.

“What kind of dog is he?”

“Maybe a mix of black German shepherd, mastiff, and Labrador? It’s anyone’s guess.”

“Why’d they call him Mack? Because he’s the size of a Mack truck?”

Serena smiled. “That, too, I guess. But he’s got a serious fast-food habit.”

Nick wasn’t sure he’d heard right. “Tell me that again?”

“Fast food. Burgers and fries. The more mayo and ketchup, the better. His owner told me Mack was a rescue dog. The shelter people were concerned because he was so skinny yet wouldn’t eat. Then a volunteer brought in a burger for lunch and Mack nearly snatched it from her hand.”

“You’re kidding me?”

Nick looked down at the big dog. Felt again a sense of kinship. He had pigged out on fast food when he’d first left home to go to college. He’d reveled in every bite of every burger. But he’d gone to college on a football scholarship. Optimum performance meant eating well. He had learned how to cook. Now he prided himself on his culinary skills.

“No. His owner told me he gave up feeding him the good stuff because all he wanted was burgers and fries. No onions of course; they’re bad for dogs.”

“Burgers and fries are on the menu here?”

Serena shrugged. “Not for the other dogs but . . .”

“You seriously feed this dog fast food?” He didn’t mean to sound disapproving, but Serena seemed to take it that way. She went immediately on the defensive.

“I’ve tried with the other stuff, believe me. My friend Maddy has even made him organic burgers in an oat-bran bun. He eats them. And the kibble that’s shaped like fries. But he’s really only happy with the real deal. He’s not overweight, just big.” Her voice went to mush. “And he’s such a sad sack of a boy, he needs treats sometimes.”

Chocolate was Nick’s favorite treat . . .

Mack lurched toward Serena, limping heavily.

Immediately Serena’s eyes welled with compassion. “Poor baby wants a hug,” she crooned.

Baby? The beast must weigh in at 180 pounds.

Serena sat down on a dog bed, tucking her long legs beneath her. “Watch this,” she said. “He thinks he’s still a puppy and can climb into my lap.”

Nick found it difficult to reconcile the image of the alluring siren in the bath with the woman looking so at home on a scruffy dog bed in baggy jeans, a shapeless shirt, and the ugliest shoes he’d ever seen on a woman. But the face was the same. And even the frumpy clothes couldn’t completely disguise her curves.

She was beautiful just the way she was.

The dog plonked one enormous paw and then the other onto Serena’s lap as he scrabbled for purchase against the fabric of her jeans. Then, still favoring his injured knee, he attempted to launch his outsized frame onto her lap. He got only as far as his forelegs before he ran out of room. Serena laughed, put her arms around his neck, and hugged the big dog.

Nick masked his envy with a grin. “What a wuss.”

“He must have been owned by a woman when he was a pup. He never tries it with a man.” Serena bent backward to avoid an overenthusiastic licking. “Isn’t he adorable?”

“I don’t know about
adorable
,” said Nick before he remembered his doting-doggy-daddy persona. “But the guy certainly seems like a . . . like a big cutie pie.” He nearly choked on the last two words.

“What did you say?” asked Serena, not looking at him, her attention on not getting squashed flat by the 180-pound pup.

Nick started to repeat the cutie pie thing.

But she didn’t wait for his answer. “No, no, no,” she spluttered, laughing, as she twisted away from Mack’s slobbery attentions.

Her face was flushed and those remarkable eyes were lit with affection and pleasure. Nick realized he had not seen her so relaxed.

So that was her story: she felt more comfortable with dogs than with people.

“Silly boy,” she admonished the dog, with another peal of laughter.

Lucky boy,
thought Nick.

Serena crooned to the outsized mutt as she scratched behind his ears and patted his neck and chest. The dog drooled in ecstasy.

As you would
.

“He’s a gentle giant. A really nice dog.” She sighed. “I don’t know what I’m going to do with him.”

Nick frowned. “What do you mean?”

“I’ve had him for four weeks,” she said. “I kept thinking the owner would come back, that he had gotten caught up in something.”

“But no show?”

She shook her head. That strand of hair had fallen across her cheek again. Nick clenched his hands into fists to stop himself from reaching out and brushing it away.

“Nada. No answer on his landline and the cell phone number he gave me was disconnected. It’s a real mystery. He seemed so fond of Mack.”

A dog abandoned. An owner disappeared. Could Mack’s owner be involved in the identity fraud? Even if only on the periphery? It was a long shot, but somehow he had to get the guy’s name.

Serena gave Mack a final, vigorous pat-down and pushed him gently but firmly away. “That’s enough, Mack.”

The dog obeyed immediately. He sat meekly back down on the floor, though his woebegone eyes didn’t leave Serena.

“He’s well trained,” said Nick.

“At his size he has to be.”

She stood up and brushed herself down. Nick restrained himself from offering to help brush the dog hairs off her chest. Refused to let himself think about how that chest had looked covered in chocolate . . .

He cleared his throat. Kept his gaze concentrated above her neck. “So what’s next for Mack?”

“I can’t bear to send him back to the shelter. It would be like adopting a kid and then returning it to an orphanage. But I’m not having any luck finding him a home.” She sighed again. “He’s so big. And the surgery he needs costs thousands.”

Finally she pushed the strand of hair back off her face. The gesture was a weary one and he noticed there were bruise-like shadows under her eyes. “Thousands I don’t have right now. But I’m working on it.”

By skimming clients’ details from their credit cards and doing a number on their bank accounts?

This woman was crazy about dogs. Would getting the money for an essential operation be motivation enough to steal? He got a pain in his gut at the thought she could be capable of it. But Serena was still his prime suspect.

“Mack seems like a nice fella.” He paused. “Fella. That was the name of the dog I had as a kid. He had another name but that’s all we ever called him. He was big like this guy but not this big.”

Serena tilted her head to one side. She frowned. “You like big dogs, but you end up with a purse-sized pooch like Bessie?”

She was smart. He’d nearly let his guard down then. Not a good idea to talk about his personal life to a possible perp.

He shrugged. “Different times of life have different needs. We lived on a farm. My family still does. There’s plenty of room for big dogs. We always have them.”

“Lucky you,” she said. “I wasn’t allowed to have a dog when I was little. My parents were vegans. No carnivores permitted in their household.”

“That was tough.”

“Yeah, especially to a kid who loved steak and hamburger.” She pulled a face that made Nick smile. “We moved around a lot, too, which they gave as an additional excuse not to have a dog. Or cat for that matter.”

“You moved around a lot?” Itinerant parents. A background common to many criminals.

“I lost count of how many schools I went to.”

Oakley or St. James? He’d have to check out those dubious-sounding parents.

“I guilted them into a pet eventually,” Serena continued. “I was an only child and I played the lonely card. But they never felt comfortable around my dogs.”

“What do they make of all this?” Nick gestured around him.

She smiled. “Shall I say they’re philosophically opposed to it? But they’re cool about anything I do. Even at the time when I wa—”

She stopped mid-word. Met his scrutiny with wide eyes. The air seemed heavy with her unspoken words.

He held her gaze for a long moment. Then finally he uttered the question he had been burning to ask her.

“Why?”

He found he was holding his breath for her answer.

 

 

Serena
tilted her chin upward. “Why what?” she asked. “Why did I pose naked in a bath of chocolate for the whole of America to see?”

Nick started to growl a response, but she put up her hand to stop him.

“Not naked, by the way. It just looked that way. I was wearing panties.” She hated the defensiveness that always weakened her voice when she spoke about it. “Or do you want to know why I look like this now?” She swept her hands down the sides of her shapeless shirt.

“All of that.” He folded his arms across his chest and rocked back on his heels.

So far, no sleaze. Just interest. Above-the-neck-type interest.

Serena knew she had good instincts when it came to animals—that was why she understood dogs so well. But she wasn’t so attuned to men. She was wary of making yet another mistake.

She didn’t have to tell him. He had no right to ask. But there was something about this man that made her want to answer his question.

With the shorthand version, that was.

He was attractive. She liked his concern for Mack. She liked the way he hadn’t turned into a number one sleazebag when he’d discovered her past. But she still felt on edge around him.

She noticed a soft plastic ball that had rolled under the dog bed. To gain a few seconds, she bent down to pick it up. When she straightened she realized Nick hadn’t taken his eyes off of her for a second. In a moment of pure female contrariness, she wished she were wearing something more attractive than the Paws-A-While uniform she had designed specifically to deflect male interest.

“Posing for Maddy’s chocolate feature was fun,” she began. “
Annie
is my favorite magazine and Maddy is my best friend. The pose wasn’t any more revealing than a swimsuit.” Despite her best efforts, she faltered. “I . . . I never dreamed what it would lead to.”

“Yes?” Nick nodded in encouragement.

“For one thing, as soon as the campaign started, no one took me seriously anymore. It was like they thought my brain had been smothered by chocolate. I realized pretty soon that I would never live it down.”

“You became famous.”

“Infamous, you mean.” Fight it as she did, she couldn’t keep the betraying tremor from her voice. She tossed the ball from hand to hand.

He leaned closer. “What do you mean?”

She took a deep, steadying breath. Struggled to sound unaffected, unconcerned. “I attracted some weirdos. One in particular . . .”

Her voice cracked. She wasn’t as disengaged from what had happened as she’d hoped. Her back ached from a long day bending over the grooming tables, and she longed to sink back down on the dog bed. But she had to keep the advantage of her height.

“A stalker. You attracted a stalker?”

She gripped tight on the ball. One part of her was tired of holding it all in. Talking to no one but her therapist. That part of her wanted to let it all out. Cry on his so-substantial shoulder. Trust him.

She nodded.

He stepped forward. Too fast. Too close. She took a step back. Her throat constricted.
Deep breath. Deep breath
.

In an effort to sound as though it didn’t matter, she began to babble. “It wasn’t the billboard pictures. It was the other ones. But I wanted to leave modeling anyway. I don’t stick at things. Never finish them. Not good at commitment. I—”

She gripped so hard on the ball it broke in a whoosh of expelled air.

Nick cursed.

She started. Looked around to see where the noise had come from. Then, dazed, looked down at the deflated plastic in her hand. The ball was Tinkerbelle’s favorite. Maddy would not be happy.

“Serena. Tell me about the stalker.”

The abrupt urgency of Nick Whalen’s voice broke through the haze. She looked up. That narrow-eyed, suspicious look was back in full force on his face.