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Authors: Casey Griffin

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Piper watched the man go, half-considering releasing horny Toby on him. “So I guess we’re on our own.”

“Looks like it,” Zoe said.

Piper took a deep breath, her shoulders automatically kicking back, her chin rising. “It’s fine. We’ll be fine.” It had become something of a mantra of hers lately. As though simply saying it out loud made it true. “Just fine, fine, fine,” she muttered in case it hadn’t worked the first time.

“Have you gotten ahold of Marilyn yet?” Addison asked.

“No. Her cell phone keeps going to voice mail. I can’t remember what time the ship left port. She might already be gone.”

“You could always call the cruise ship itself.”

“I hear that’s expensive. Besides, no one was hurt. I’ll leave her a message, which she can listen to at the next port. I’ll probably downplay most of this because I know how she worries. It will ruin her vacation. Even if she was here, I’m not sure there’s anything more she’d be able to do.”

Piper dreaded the conversation once Marilyn returned her call. She’d handed the keys over to Piper, and within a few hours under her care the place looked like an eighties rock band’s hotel room. She knew it wasn’t her fault, not really, but she didn’t like the timing.

The three of them took a break from bath duties and headed up front. Now that it was time to tackle the mess, it seemed a lot worse than before. Piper didn’t know where to begin. Colin nosed around the clutter on the floor, dismayed at the task before them.

She rolled her sleeves back and began by picking up the computer monitor lying facedown under the desk. There was a hole punched right in the middle of the screen, as though it had been hit by a bat.

“This isn’t right,” Piper said. “This just isn’t right. We can’t just wait around for something like this to happen again. We have to do something.”

“Hey, I have an idea,” Zoe said sarcastically. “Why don’t we hire a security guard?”

Piper swiped a finger over the powder the identification unit used to dust for prints. She scowled when it didn’t come off. Then she froze. “Wait a minute,” she said. “Maybe Officer Sucker Tucker is on to something.”

“About renting a security guard?”

“Not with the guard, but we really should have a security system.”

“With what funds?” Zoe asked. “We can barely afford the dog food at the end of the month. Marilyn says we’re stretched too tight as it is. I can’t imagine the monthly fees for a system like that.”

Piper chewed her lip, thinking. “It’s not like I’ve got any spare cash to help.” Hell, she didn’t even have enough cash to pay the rent. “Maybe we can’t afford it alone, but we can appeal to the community for donations.”

“That’s a good idea,” Addison said. “What about Aiden? He owns the place now. Maybe he’ll help since it’s his building.”

Piper thought about asking him, but the very idea made her uncomfortable. Sure, he could afford it, but would that be overstepping her boundaries? Maybe that’s the kind of thing Marilyn should discuss with him. Would he feel obligated to upgrade the place because he knew Piper? His don’t mix business with pleasure rule suddenly came to mind. Maybe it made sense after all.

“No,” she said finally. “We can do it on our own. We’ll be fine. I’m sure people would help if they heard about what happened. San Francisco is like the dog capital of the world. There are more dog owners than parents in this city. We’ve done it before to afford medical treatments.”

It was true they’d gotten by in the past through the generosity of their foster families, donations from dog lovers in the neighborhood, and bake sale profits, but this was going to take a lot more than a few peanut-butter chocolate-chip cookies.

“I wish we had the same PR connections as Passion for Puppies down the street,” she said. “Their center does pretty well.” Just then, Smarties wandered into the reception area from the back. His fur still hinted at the subtle swoop of the pompadour that Addison gave him.

Piper’s eyes widened. “Oh.”

“What is it?” Zoe asked.

Piper turned to the dog stylist. “Addison, when you opened your dog spa, weren’t you interviewed for Channel Five News?”

Her eyes widened as she caught on to Piper’s train of thought. “Yeah, by Holly Hart.”

“Do you still have her number?”

“I do. That’s genius.” She dug her phone out of her purse and started speed texting.


The
Holly Hart?” Zoe asked. “That’s perfect! Piper, put that computer back.”

“On the floor?”

“Yes. We’ll leave everything the way it is.” She held up her hands like a frame, probably imagining how the scene would look on TV. She grinned, pleased with the shot. “A complete disaster.”

Addison snapped her fingers. “Right. More of an impact on the viewers.”

“Yes! And we’ll get one of our sadder-looking dogs for the segment. It can make puppy-dog eyes at the camera in the background.”

“I know! We’ll use Charlie.”

“Yes! He’s perfectly pathetic.”

Colin barked in agreement.

The girls had this wild look in their eyes. Piper couldn’t tell if it spoke of genius or madness. Either way, they were on the same track. “You two are devious.”

Zoe shrugged. “We like to think of ourselves as opportunists.”

“We’re just using what we’ve got to make the best of a bad situation,” Addison said. “Trust us. Between Zoe’s event-planning business and my dog styling, we understand marketing.”

“Right,” Zoe agreed. “We want to grab as many people’s attention as we can. The more awareness, the more donations.”

“Not to mention,” Addison said, “someone might watch the news segment and they could remember seeing or hearing something to do with the break-in. Maybe they could give the cops a hot tip to help them solve the crime.”

Piper was looking at the room with a glint in her eye. “Maybe we’ll have extra funds left over to fix the place up a bit.”

She thought of the rotten front step and the rickety fencing in the courtyard. Maybe it was an opportunity to turn things around for the center. To make it better than ever, or at least better than the junk pile it looked like at that moment.

Marilyn might have been the manager, but Piper loved the center as if it were her own. She couldn’t bear to see the guests’ home,
her
home, violated in that way—not while under her watch. Besides, if she couldn’t handle this, then how would she ever own her own veterinary clinic one day? She could fix this. She
would
fix this. And it would be a nice welcome home surprise for Marilyn.

Addison’s phone chimed and they huddled close as she checked it. She gave a sudden whoop. “Holly Hart is on her way! Don’t worry, Pipe. You’re going to do great.”

Piper choked on her own air, coughing in surprise. “Me?”

“Of course you.” Zoe grinned at her. “We did say that we’re going for pathetic.”

Piper tried to pull a face, but she only managed a grimace.

“Great impression of puppy-dog eyes,” Zoe told her, not at all sympathetic to her sudden onset of chest pains. “Do it just like that when you’re on TV.”

Addison clapped her hands. “You’re going to be our doggy delegate.”

Piper looked to Colin, raising her hands. “A little support here?”

But he responded with an indifferent bark.

Piper sighed. “Why am I the one going on television again? You two are the advertising gurus. You’re used to this kind of thing. I’ll be nothing but nerves the entire time. I don’t know what to say.”

“Which is exactly what we need,” Zoe said. “This is about a crime. Something serious and scary. It’s better if you’re just yourself,” she said, “not reasonable or confident at all.”

“You sure know how to give a pep talk.”

“Maybe you should call Aiden,” Addison said.

At the mention of his name, Piper’s cheeks reddened, like the fact that she’d been thinking about him was written all over her face. But it didn’t take a psychic to figure that out, since he was on her mind more often than not lately.

Aiden would need to know for insurance purposes. She wondered if she should make the call or if she could wait until they got the place back in shape and maybe raised a little money so she could propose improvements. It felt like she was always getting into compromising situations around him. This could be her way to say, “See? I can fix my messes all by myself. I can handle a business just like you.”

She bit her lip. “No, I haven’t called Aiden yet.”

“Called Aiden about what?” Aiden said. His voice in the room made all three of them jump. They turned to find him strolling in through the front door.

So much for not needing his help, thought Piper.

 

15

Doggy Delegate

Standing in the entrance to the rescue center, Aiden surveyed what once resembled a reception room. Frown lines creased his forehead. “Been redecorating?”

“There was a break-in,” Piper said.

“Why didn’t you call me?”

“I was going to call you once we had it cleaned up. I guess I thought you’d be busy, you know, with businessy things,” she said lamely. “I didn’t want to bother you.”

“It wouldn’t have been a bother. I was already on my way here.”

“You were?” Her heart did a funny flip in her chest. She hoped he came to see her, but the last time she thought that he’d come for a dog. Plus he owned the place. Business, not pleasure, she reminded herself.

“Yeah,” he said. “I brought a present.”

“A present?” Okay, so there was pleasure.

He propped the door open and disappeared outside. That’s when she realized why Aiden had taken them all by surprise. A thin chain above the door swung back and forth, burdenless; the little brass bell itself was gone.

She searched the floor until she found it. It was smashed in, flattened like someone had stomped on it. Holding it up, she tried to make it ring. It gave a single pathetic
thunk
before the clapper clattered to the floor.

Piper recalled the day eight years earlier when its sweet ring had welcomed her into the center for the first time. She hadn’t been looking for volunteer work. She was looking for a dog named Jack. Jack was a ten-year-old piebald dachshund. Her dachshund. Or rather, he had been before her mother gave him up.

Back when Piper had been busy taking her high school exams, her mom went on ahead to San Francisco to get things ready for their big move. She’d taken Jack with her. It turned out their apartment had a strict no-pets policy. And it wasn’t like they could find a different one because they’d lucked out: their apartment was rent-controlled. Not wanting to upset Piper before graduation, her mother had secretly given Jack up at a local rescue center.

When Piper arrived a few weeks later to find Jack missing, she was furious. She’d practically grown up with Jack. Hadn’t she lost enough as it was?

Once she’d learned which rescue center he’d been dumped at, Piper stormed in there and demanded her dog be returned. But the Englishwoman who ran the place said he’d already been adopted. Of course he had been. He was a great dog.

Piper had felt like she’d finally lost everything. It was just her and her mom left, a few pieces of furniture that fit the two-bedroom apartment, and Mr. Wiggles, her childhood teddy bear. But there was something about being around dachshunds that made that loss a little less painful. As though she still had some connection with Jack, with her old life, by reminiscing about him with the other “guests,” as the Englishwoman referred to them. Piper could imagine that they remembered their time with him and could share those stories with her.

So she returned to see them, week after week. And soon it was no longer just about Jack. It was about the other doxies, about finding them good homes, like Marilyn had done for Piper’s Jack, for so many other dogs over the last thirty years.

When Aiden returned, he was carrying a hefty box. Despite his well-used gym membership, he looked to be struggling with it. Piper placed the bell on the desk and hurried over to help him carry it into the kitchen. They slid it onto the vintage table and stepped back.

“What is it?” Piper asked.

“It’s a new fish tank.”

“Really?” She beamed up at him, surprised by his thoughtfulness. “That’s so sweet.”

“I’m glad to see the ladies are still alive.” He tapped on the coffeepot.

The goldfish were gliding around their temporary home, bumping into one another in the cramped quarters.

“I’m sure they’ll be happy to get out of there,” Piper said.

Aiden stepped back out into the reception room. He assessed the damage, scowling as he read the message scrawled across the yellow wall. “One week until what?”

“That’s what I’d like to know,” she said.

“I guess I should have picked up a couple gallons of paint too on the way.”

“The damage is mostly cosmetic. It won’t take much to cover up the graffiti and get things back in order.” She just hoped that in a week they wouldn’t have to deal with it again. Or worse. The first warning flashed through her mind.
Get out! Or I’ll make you.

Aiden slipped off his sports jacket and rolled up his sleeves. “Well, where do I start, boss?”

She held up her hands to wave him off. “You don’t have to do that.”

“Piper.” Grabbing her gently by both wrists, he gave her a strange look. “I’m free to help. I don’t mind.”

“But we’re fine.”

He waved a hand at the sorry excuse for a reception area and raised his eyebrows at her. “You’re not
fine
.”

A chuckle tinted his voice, like she was a hippo claiming to be a cockatoo. It made her muscles tense with indignation, like it was an accusation of sorts. That he thought she couldn’t take care of herself, that she needed help.

“Hey, Pipe.” Zoe gestured out the front window. “Looks like the news crew is here. Are you ready for your television debut?”

“You called the news station?” Aiden asked.

“Why? Do you think it’s a bad idea?” she asked. It suddenly occurred to her that she should have asked his permission first, since it was his property.

“Not at all. I think it’s a great idea to create awareness. Dogs in danger? It’s easy to appeal to the public’s emotions when animals are involved.”

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