4. Jack really, really loved it, too, because:
5. Tigers, unlike a lot of other cats,lovewater.
"The security system wasn't only for you. My office connects to your shop, remember?"
"And the cameras at my house?"
There was a pause.
Then, all in one breath, he tried out a ridiculous excuse: "They're for me, too, because I sleep better when I know you're safe. You wouldn't want to give me insomnia, would you?"
I was spared from answeringthat, because we were turning into the tiny parking lot at the new vet clinic.
"What now?" Jack said grimly, and then he muttered something beneath his breath that could have blistered paint.
I looked up from the dog and gasped. The cute little cottage that held the new vet in town's clinic had graffiti painted across the windows in large, uneven letters:
DOGS RULE, CATS DROOL
"I—do you suppose it's some weird marketing thing she's doing?"
"I would seriously doubt it." Jack jumped out of the truck, opened the back door, and gently lifted out the injured dog. I followed him inside.
The interior of the clinic was bright and cheerful. Butter-yellow walls sported framed prints of various happy-looking dogs, cats, rabbits, and even ferrets. Notices of dog training and pet sitting covered a bulletin board near the door. A smiling man wearing a shirt patterned with balloons and puppies sat behind the reception desk, but the waiting area was empty.
"Phin!" I rushed over to the desk. "I haven't seen you in forever!"
We'd gone to high school together, where he'd been one of the kindest people on the planet, and it had been far too long since we'd caught up.
Phineas Hunter's golden-brown eyes sparkled in his brown face. He strode out from behind the desk—as tall and skinny as he'd been when he was president of the Dead End High Science Club—and hugged me, which was safe, since I'd touched him before I knew much about my gift. He was a null to me—I'd never seen a vision of his death, and it had always only happened on the first time someone touched me.
"I know! I just moved back last week to work here and take care of Mom."
"Welcome home."
He patted my arm and then stepped over to Jack. "Hey, Mr. Shepherd. Let's look at your dog. Charithra is free right now, not that she wouldn't stop for an emergency."
I blew out a breath. Phin had been a vet tech for years, and his air of calm and compassionate confidence helped relieve a bit of my concern for the dog.
"Charithra?"
"Dr. Kumari," he said absently, his gentle fingers examining the dog's leg.
The dog, awake now, her liquid dark eyes filled with pain, whimpered and panted, but made no move to bite or even growl, both of which I might have done if I had a broken leg and strange people were messing with it. This dog was as heroic as she was beautiful.
I wondered how Lou would feel about a dog joining our household.
"I don't want to add to her stress by taking her from you and jostling that bone," Phin said. "If you'd bring her back with me, Mr. Shepherd—"
"Call me Jack. And of course. She's not our dog, though. Someone may have dumped her on the road across from Tess's shop. A woman accidentally struck the dog with her car and then carried her over to the shop to get help."
I didn't question how Phin knew who Jack was. This was Dead End. He'd probably heard about Jack from his mom approximately five minutes after Jack had moved back to town in January.
I followed them to the exam room. It had the expected metal table, posters of dogs and cats and what they should weigh, and cabinets undoubtedly filled with supplies. The bright green-and-white striped walls were unexpected, though. I had a feeling the vet would be somebody I would like a lot if this was how she decorated.
Jack gently placed the dog on the table, and Phin murmured soothing noises to her while stroking her head. Her eyes rolled around, though, and her panting and whimpers sped up.
"Poor girl," I said. "Pain, stress, and fear are not a great combination."
