Forever Home. Allyson Charles
teeth. “I’m taking her to the exam room. You can make the decision on whether to call the cops or not. And bring those puppies along when you’re done. I want to check them out, too.” He disappeared inside the shelter.
Izzy fisted her hands on her curvy hips. “I didn’t do this!”
Brad’s lips twitched. He believed her. It didn’t hurt that she wore outrage like a kitten who’d just had her catnip taken away. Really, her adorability didn’t come through at all in her pictures.
“Come on.” He held the door open with his shoulder and waved her inside with his free hand. “You can tell me all about it.”
She preceded him into the narrow hallway. The bathroom, which was also used for storage, was to their left, and the tiny kitchen across to their right. The next door on the right led to the exam room, and a quick peek inside showed Gabe had already settled the boxer mix on the stainless steel examination table. Across the room, the top half of the Dutch door to the kennels stood open, and the barking of their current crew filled the room.
Izzy walked past him down the hall, toward the wide curving reception desk that blocked visitors coming in the front from direct access to the back rooms.
“This way,” he said.
Izzy glanced back, and Brad jutted his chin at the door across from the exam room, to the shelter’s office. Following her in, he cleared a space on the large desk he shared with Gabe and settled the crate of puppies onto it. He lifted a stack of file folders off Gabe’s ergonomic executive chair and pulled it out for Izzy. The lazy wheel on its left side squeaked loudly.
“Here you go.” He patted the seat, sidled around to the front of the desk, and pulled out his own rickety wooden chair. Money was tight at the nonprofit shelter, and he’d furnished the place with thrift-shop rejects. Watching Izzy brush at the seat before settling down into it, he somehow figured she wasn’t used to holding client meetings in these types of surroundings.
“So, Isabelle Lopez, tell me your story.”
Perching on the edge of her seat, she crossed her ankles. Bits of gravel clung to her knees, and a small run had started in her nylons. “Well, as I said, I found the dogs in the apartments.”
“Is someone buying that dump? Are you the sales agent?”
“No!” Clearing her throat, she smoothed her hands down her trench coat and skirt. “No. I was walking past, going to Bert’s Bakery for some doughnuts, and I heard barking. Loud barking and lots of whining.”
“Hungry dogs tend to do that.”
She nodded. “I knew the apartments were supposed to be empty, so I went inside and found them.” A line creased her forehead. “I thought the last tenant left three weeks ago. The dogs couldn’t have survived there alone that long, could they?”
“No.” Brad’s anger spiked again, but this time he had no one to direct it at. “Someone must have dumped them, knowing it was an empty space.” Left the animals there to die. Brad curled his hands into fists. He’d really like to meet the person who’d done that.
He rolled his head. Anger was a useless emotion, and life was too short to indulge in it. So he pushed it aside and focused on the woman across from him. “Okay, you found the dogs and brought them to the shelter. Why leave them by the back door? Why not come in the front?”
“I was going to call you from down the block to tell you they were outside.” She leaned forward and gripped the edge of the desk. “I wouldn’t have left them to sit out there alone.”
“But why leave them at all?”
“Well, you see…” She scratched at a mark on the desk.
“Yes?” he drawled.
“Well, the apartments weren’t quite unlocked.” She gave a small nod, as if answering a question only she could hear, and Brad frowned. “I had to break in through a window, and I didn’t want to get in trouble with the police. I could have my license revoked if I’m convicted of a crime, so I thought it would be safer if I…” She spread her hands.
“Left them anonymously.”
She nodded. “Please don’t tell anyone I climbed into the apartments through a window. In fact, maybe it would be best if you just don’t mention my name. Ever.”
His lips curled up. “You crawled through a window?” She wasn’t a tall woman. Even in those heels she was probably only about five-six, five-seven. And wearing heels and a skirt…“I wish I could have seen that.”
“I don’t,” she said emphatically. “It wasn’t easy. I had to drag over some pallets and a mattress someone had left in the parking lot to get enough height to pull myself in. Even then, my entrance wasn’t pretty.” She rubbed her elbow. “Thank God the floor was carpeted.”
“I don’t think the police will care that you entered a foreclosed building to save some animals.” In fact, to Brad’s mind what she’d done had been pretty damn laudable. “You must be a real dog lover.”
She wrinkled her nose. “Animals really aren’t my thing. But that doesn’t mean I’d want to see any in pain,” she was quick to assure him.
The black-and-white puppy poked its nose over the top of the crate. Brad leaned over. The dog was standing on the back of one of his siblings. Another puppy chewed on his tail. Brad pushed to his feet. “Why don’t we get these little guys back with their mom.”
Izzy stood as well. “I don’t know. Their mama might need a little break from her brood. Taking care of five babies without any help must have exhausted the poor girl.”
Brad laughed. “That sounds like something another mother might say.” He glanced down at her bare ring finger. “Do you have kids?”
“Only one. And she’s enough to run me ragged.” The proud smile on her face canceled out the grumble.
Picking up the crate, Brad circled the desk and stepped into the hallway. Izzy followed. “And your husband?” he asked. “His help isn’t enough to keep you sane?” Please don’t have a husband.
Gabe looked up from his spot on the floor when they entered the exam room. He was sitting cross-legged next to the fluffy white dog bed they kept in the room, stroking his patient with one hand and holding an IV bag with a line running to above the dog’s front paw with the other.
“I’m not married,” Izzy said, hefting her purse higher up her shoulder. She took a step toward the pair in the corner. “Is she going to be okay?” she asked Gabe.
“She’ll be fine. She needs rest, fluids, and food, but she’ll recover. I’m hydrating her now.”
Brad held up the crate. “Here are her puppies. Should I put them around her?”
“No, put the crate on the table. We should let her rest a bit more,” Gabe said.
Izzy cocked her head at Brad and raised her eyebrows.
“Yes, you were right,” he told her. He put the crate down, making sure none of the puppies could escape no matter how many bodies they climbed on.
Izzy peered out the open top half of the Dutch door, the one that led to the kennels.
“Do you want a tour?” An idea began to roll around in his mind. “I’d love to show you the facilities.”
“Sure.” She reached into her bag and drew out her cell phone, checking the display. She kept the phone in her hand. “But I have to get back to work soon.”
“Then we’ll make it the speed tour.” That wouldn’t be hard. The 2,000-square-foot building was a tight fit for the eighteen dogs that were its current residents. With the addition of the six more Izzy had brought, they would be bursting at the seams.
He opened the bottom half of the door and led her into the kennels.