Unleashed (A Melanie Travis Mystery) (24 page)

We found Faith in a corner of the backyard, peeing.

Sam gazed at her with an experienced eye. “She’s feeling contractions but doesn’t understand what they are. That’s why she thinks she has to go.”

I went immediately to Faith, intent on getting her inside and upstairs to the whelping box. Sam began a hasty search of the small yard. By the time the Poodle and I reached the steps, he’d caught up.

“What were you looking for?”

“Just making sure she didn’t already deliver any puppies. First time mothers sometimes get confused. She might have pushed out a puppy and not realized what it was. I didn’t see anything, though.”

My cheeks turned bright pink. “This is all my fault. I should have been watching her more closely.”

“You didn’t know it was time,” Sam said sensibly. “Did her temperature drop?”

“I don’t know. I was supposed to be taking it twice a day, but last night ...”

“Something else came up,” Sam finished for me, both of us aware of Davey’s presence as our procession made its way to my bedroom. “Under the circumstances, I can see how you might have been distracted.”

When we reached the upstairs hallway, Faith pulled away from me and trotted on ahead. I was afraid she might dive under my bed or tunnel into the closet, but for once she seemed to find the whelping box a welcoming sight. The Poodle hopped over the low side, turned several quick circles, and lay down heavily. Quickly, Sam shut the bedroom door, leaving Tar outside in the hallway.

He and I crossed the room and sat down on the floor beside the box. Davey climbed on the bed to watch.

“The contractions are getting stronger,” said Sam. “It won’t be long now.”

I hung over the side of the box and cradled Faith’s head in my palm. I wondered if she was feeling nervous. I knew I was. I’d watched Aunt Peg whelp a litter once, but that had been different. That time, it hadn’t been my pet who’d been doing the delivering, and my tiny, helpless puppies who were about to be born.

“I can’t believe it’s happening,” I said. “I’m not ready yet.”

“Of course you are.” Sam looked at the supplies that had been piled beside the whelping box for the last week, as per Aunt Peg’s instructions. “Trust me, nobody is readier than this. You’ve got everything you need right here. Davey, do you want to help?”

“Sure!” He slid down off the bed. “What can I do?”

Sam picked up a small carton, which had a heating pad fitted into its bottom. He flipped the switch on and turned the setting to low. “This is very important. You’re going to be in charge of this box.”

Davey looked disappointed. “It’s empty.”

“Now maybe, but it won’t be for long. Sometimes the puppies come one right after the other, and sometimes there’s a long wait in between. When Faith has time between births, she’ll want to have her puppies in the whelping box with her.

“But when things are moving really fast, she’ll have other things to think about besides the puppies that have already been born. She might even injure one accidentally as she moves around having contractions. So what we’ll do then is take the puppies and put them in this box, where they can stay warm and dry until she’s ready for them again.”

“Won’t Faith mind if we take her puppies away?” Davey asked.

“We won’t take them far. She’ll be able to see and hear and smell them. And if it looks like she’s upset, all we have to do is pick up the carton and put it in the whelping box with her.”

In the five minutes we’d been in the bedroom, Faith had gotten up and lain back down several times. She’d dug into the waterproof pads that lined the floor of the box and turned around to gaze quizzically at her sides. When I placed my hands on her flanks, I could feel the contractions ripple through her. She lay back down and began to push.

“I think one’s coming,” I said in a hushed tone.

Sam reached in the box and moved Faith’s tail out of the way. “I see the sac.”

Faith strained briefly and I heard a sudden whooshing sound. The puppy, encased in its slippery membrane, came sliding out onto the pad. I could see its wet, rounded head. Its tiny feet were moving. Immediately, I reached for it.

Sam caught my hand. “Give her a moment. Let’s see what she does.”

“Aunt Peg said I have to be sure to get the sac off right away so the puppy can start breathing.”

“Faith knows that instinctively. Give her another few seconds, then we’ll step in.”

I needn’t have worried. Sam was right. After casting a startled glance at the wet bundle that had somehow arrived in the vicinity of her hind legs, instinct kicked in and Faith went to work.

She broke the sac that surrounded the puppy and began to lick vigorously. The puppy made a soft mewling sound, using its tiny paws to bat at her nose as her long pink tongue rolled it from side to side.

“Are you sure she’s not being too rough?”

“No, that’s good for him. It helps get the fluid out of his lungs and get the breathing started. In a minute she’ll chew through the umbilical cord.”

“Yuck,” Davey said eloquently.

“Yuck?” I glanced at my son. “You get a chance to witness the miracle of birth and that’s all you have to say? Yuck?”

“It’s a mess in there,” Davey said in his own defense. “The puppy’s all wet, and it doesn’t even look like a real dog. And what’s all the green stuff anyway?”

“Believe me,” Sam laughed, “you don’t want to know.” He shifted his gaze to Faith. “Uh-oh.”

“What?” I cried. “What?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” Sam said quickly. “It’s just that there’s another puppy coming right away. That’s normal in the beginning. It just means that we have to move a little faster.”

Sam picked up the puppy, wrapped it in a small towel, and placed it in my hands. “Make sure he’s totally dry, then he can go on the warm pad in Davey’s box.”

Faith started to protest as Sam lifted the puppy away, then another strong contraction claimed her attention. As she stood up and circled the box, Sam deftly slid out the soiled pad, leaving a clean one in its place. A moment later, while I was busy stuffing the old pad into a garbage bag, another puppy slid into the world. Sam caught it in a towel. Faith hadn’t bothered to lie back down.

“Oops,” I said, reaching too late for the slippery bundle. “Good thing you’re here.”

“I love having puppies.” Sam broke the sac with his fingers before lowering the new arrival gently to the floor of the box. “I wouldn’t have missed this for the world.” He looked over his shoulder at Davey. “How’s number one coming?”

“Good.” Davey said importantly. “He keeps moving around the box. I think he’s hungry.”

“He is. And he’s going to eat in just a minute, as soon as number two is dry. Now that the first two are here, we should get a break.” Sam turned the new baby over. “A boy and a girl, so far. Who’s got names picked out?”

Davey and I looked at each other blankly. His fingers stroked the boy puppy in the box. “Since he’s the first, I think his name should be Adam.”

“Good idea,” I agreed. “That would make her Eve.”

“A biblical litter?” Sam looked skeptical.

“Sure,” I said blithely, though the idea had only just occurred to me. “What else would you expect from a Poodle whose name is Faith?”

Sam started to laugh, saw I was serious, and tried to cover his amusement by clearing his throat. It didn’t work.

“What’s so funny?” I demanded.

“You may call her Faith, but that’s not her full name.”

“No, of course not. Aunt Peg named her before she gave her to me. Her name is Cedar Crest Leap of Faith.”

“Leap of Faith,” Sam repeated. “Peg didn’t name her that because she was feeling religious. That’s what she thought she was making in letting a bitch as good as this go to a novice like you.”

I frowned, feeling distinctly grumpy. Aunt Peg might have mentioned something about that at the time. But that had been nearly two years ago. In the meantime I’d managed to put the implied insult out of my mind.

“On the other hand,” Sam aimed for a conciliatory tone, “look how well things turned out. I’d say you’ve justified Peg’s faith, and more.”

He leaned toward me over the side of the box and Davey groaned. “If you two start kissing, who’s going to take care of the puppies?”

He had a point.

Carefully, I lifted the first puppy off the heating pad and put him back with Faith. She sniffed him all over, checking him as thoroughly as if they’d been separated for a matter of hours rather than minutes. Apparently satisfied with what she found, she nudged both puppies back toward her flank. Within moments, each had found a milk-filled nipple and were sucking blissfully.

Watching the puppies nurse, their small tongues latched tightly around the teats, their tiny paws kneading Faith’s belly in rhythm to help bring down the milk, filled me with a sense of well-being. Stealing a glance at Sam in the quiet room, I could see that the simple domestic scene was having the same effect on him. For this one short moment, all was right with the world.

“Now what?” Davey demanded, shattering the illusion of tranquillity. He scooted over beside me. “How come you guys are just sitting there? When is Faith going to have more puppies?”

“When she’s ready,” I said. “This is her production, not ours. We’re just here to help things along if she needs it.”

“Well, hurry up and help then.” Spoiled by video games, my son had been expecting thrill-a-minute action. “How come it takes so long?”

Sam straightened and leaned in for a closer look. “You’re about to get your wish,” he told Davey. Adam and Eve had finished nursing and were sleeping in the bottom of the box. He scooped them up and set them on the heating pad. “Here comes another puppy.”

Forty-five minutes later, Faith’s litter had doubled in size, with two more girl puppies joining the boy and girl we already had. Davey, who’d been informed that there would likely be another break in the action, had gone off in search of a Bible. With six-year-old determination, he’d decided that he didn’t want just any names for these puppies, he wanted the best names. And that meant making an informed choice.

The fact that his reading skills weren’t yet of Bible caliber probably meant that he’d be gone a while. Add that to the excited yips I’d heard from Tar when Davey had opened the bedroom door, and I figured he’d have plenty to keep him busy. Which would give Sam and me a chance to talk.

“I feel like I’ve been away forever,” Sam said, when all four puppies were warm and dry, and had had their first meal.

“Me too. I’ve been busy.” Starting with the first trip I’d made to the magazine office on Monday, I related the week’s events in detail.

Sam had already met many of the people I spoke of. Marlon Dickie was a new name, as was Alida Trent, although he’d heard of her dogs. Sam knew who Kenny Boyle was, and frowned darkly through my recitation of Bertie and my visit to the handler’s kennel. Judging by the expression on Sam’s face, I suspected that someday soon Kenny would be offering to make restitution for Bertie’s ruined items.

“It sounds like you’ve rounded up a fair number of suspects,” he said, leaning back against the bed. “Any idea who might have done it?”

“No. That’s the problem. I’ve spoken to lots of people who had reasons for wanting Sheila out of the way, but none of them seem compelling to me. Except maybe for Brian, and now it looks like he’s the one person who couldn’t have done it.”

Sam thought about that for a minute. “When I came in, you seemed surprised that I’d heard about Brian’s murder. How did you find out so quickly?”

Uh oh, I thought. I’d been hoping he wouldn’t wonder about that. Because lately I’d begun to feel that going to see Brian the night before had been a betrayal, both of Sam and of the trust we had in one another.

Technically I hadn’t done anything behind Sam’s back; at least that’s what I kept telling myself. But it felt like I had. Brian had offered to tell me things about Sam which he claimed Sam didn’t want me to know, and I’d gone running to find out what they were.

So what did that say about me? And about my belief in the relationship that Sam and I shared?

“I was there,” I said slowly. “I got to Brian’s house right after he was murdered.”

Shock froze Sam’s expression. Concern quickly followed. “What do you mean you were there? What were you doing there?”

“I’d seen Brian earlier in the day at his office. He said he had things to tell me. Things he wanted privacy to discuss. He asked me to meet him at his house last night.”

“And you went?” He sounded angry. Even Faith, totally absorbed in her new brood, looked up and tilted her head at his tone. “After everything I’ve told you about Brian—”

“Yes, I went.” My voice lifted too. “I had to go. Because what I know about Brian and Sheila, and the life you led before you met me, could pretty much fit in a thimble. Brian said he had things to tell me. I wanted to hear what they were.”

“Things about me.”

“Yes.”

Sam sighed. “I don’t know what Brian intended to tell you. I do know that whatever it was, was as likely to be a lie as the truth. He always had a way of shaping reality to suit his own purposes. Damn it, Melanie, I can’t believe you would have been so desperate for information that you would have turned to him instead of coming to me.”

I could see the pain in Sam’s eyes. It didn’t stop me from saying what I felt needed to be said. “I
have
come to you, Sam. There are things you don’t talk about, questions you don’t answer.

“Whenever I ask about Sheila and Brian and what went on among the three of you, you just shrug it off as if it didn’t matter. Well it does matter, it matters to me. And you won’t talk about it.”

Wouldn’t you know it, Faith chose that moment to start having contractions again. Despite the hurtful things I’d said, Sam and I still made a great team. Within minutes, another boy had been added to the litter.