When Hannah saidshe could pick up Bandit on Monday, she left out the part about how early. At seven in the morning, the sun has barely lifted its face to the sky. And the first chill of fall is in the air instead of the usual mugginess. I don’t have an issue with the crack of dawn hour, but after a night of Turtle Patrol, I’m like a walking zombie at this point.
Pete greets us and then leads the way to their onsite infirmary. As soon as Bandit sees us, he pushes himself up on his front legs and his tail does this sluggish wiggle.
Hannah crouches by his crate and opens the door to pet him. Her voice is soft as she coos over him. And Bandit is loving every minute of it. Lucky dog.
She looks up at Pete. “He’s moving his tail already.”
Pete grins and bobs his head. “I told you he was doing great. The doc said he has a good chance of recovering some mobility, but it could be months.”
Hannah returns her attention to Bandit. “You’re going to be running around in no time, aren’t you, boy.” She kisses the top of his head, like she did The General, and again, I’m envious of a dog.
Pete swings his focus to me. “Hannah said he’ll be staying with you, so make sure he stays in his crate for another week or two, unless you’re taking him outside to toilet. Then he’ll have to be confined in a room or smaller area. And no jumping or running or getting on furniture or beds, for at least eight weeks, okay?”
It’s like information overload at first, but I nod. I get it. I had a strict list of dos and don’ts after my shoulder surgery. This probably won’t feel that different. “Got it.”
“Hannah knows about the rest and can show you how to care for Bandit’s surgical site and how to handle him. Take him out three times a day for toileting, but then put him back in his crate for the first few days. If you have a playpen, that’s even better.” He swings his gaze to Hannah. “You know what to look for, right?”
She nods. “Yep. And I’ve already created his plan for physiotherapy and hydrotherapy once his sutures are removed.”
“Good. Our vet will be thrilled to hear that.” Pete crouches down by Hannah to pet Bandit, but his eyes stay on Hannah. “He’s a really great dog, Han. I know you’ll take good care of him.”
I admit, I’m not a fan of Pete’s ‘friendliness’ with Hannah. I’m a guy. I recognize romantic interest when I see it. Pete clearly has a thing for her. Like I said, not a fan.
Maybe my question will distract him. “What about his former owner?”
Pete divides his attention between me and Bandit. At least he’s not staring at Hannah with desire-filled eyes anymore. “Yeah, not sure how that will play out. That’s up to the county whether or not to prosecute. I’ll keep you posted.”
He hands Hannah a bag with Bandit’s pain meds and some additional information he thought she could use. Again, all very friendly and helpful. And Hannah seems genuinely appreciative, but I can’t gauge if she’s interested in Pete as more than just a friend.
We load Bandit’s crate into the back of her old SUV. I’m glad Hannah knows what she’s doing because this is so out of my realm of experience. The only thing I can compare it to is looking out for the baby turtles during hatching season. They can hardly coordinate their little flippers, let alone defend themselves against predators. Thus, we make sure the beach is as clear as possible so they can get to the water.
I close her hatch door. “My place next?”
“My office first. I have a small playpen you can use for Bandit. Superb idea on Pete’s part.”
“Office, it is.” Again, my competition radar goes off at the mention of his name, but I mentally shake it off. Hannah and I are just friends, even if I’d like more to happen between us. If my best friend wasn’t her overprotective brother, things could be different. Maybe I should win Graham over about the idea of me dating his sister.
When we drive up to Hannah’s office, it’s like driving up to a disaster zone. A couple of sheriff cruisers sit by the sidewalk where a group of spectators stand chatting and pointing. Monday morning in downtown Sarabella means foot traffic, especially during tourist season.
Liam is standing by the cruiser, talking to the officer. Hannah jumps out of the vehicle as soon as she parks, then runs toward her brother. I follow close behind, but I’m also searching for the cause of the commotion and any lingering threat.
And then I see it.
The landscaping in front of her office is completely trashed, and spray-painted obscenities cover the door, windows, and outer wall.
I bypass Hannah and Liam and approach the path leading to her place. More foul words splatter the walkway leading to the entrance.
As I turn around, Hannah plows into me. A mix of disbelief and anger rides her face, but her eyes reveal the pain she’s already processing.
I hold her back, trying to shield her from seeing the rest of the attack scrawling on the walkway. “Don’t. Give me the keys. I’ll get the playpen.”
“No. I need to make sure nothing is damaged inside.”
Liam walks up from behind, studying me as he approaches. “It’s fine, sis. I checked everything out from inside.”
Shoulders slumped, she spins around to face him. “Who would do this?”
I meet Liam’s gaze and can tell his first thought was the same as mine.
