The Redemption Game Read online

“Do you think there’s any way we could take him now?” Bear asked, nodding toward the sheep. “Therese should take a look at him. I don’t think he should go another day.”

  Therese was the vet out on Windfall Island, our base of operations for Flint K-9 Search and Rescue and a growing animal rescue Bear had started. She was on standby today, with full knowledge of what we could be up against with Nancy’s animals.

  “I might be able to arrange something,” I said. I surveyed the rest of the pasture, taking stock of the donkeys, llamas, cows, sheep, and goats in turn. “What about the rest of the place? Is there anyone else you think needs to come now?”

  “There’s a dog,” he said. “They keep him chained out back. We should get him out of here as soon as we can.”

  “I’ll check with Nancy. Anyone else?”

  Bear took the place in critically, his gaze intent. “There are a couple of llamas that really need to get out of here sooner than later. Those, and that miniature donkey farther out.” He nodded toward a thin, shaggy donkey at the back of the field. “You think you can talk her into letting them go now?”

  “Mom says everybody stays,” Albie ventured, joining in the conversation for the first time. He avoided my eye when he spoke, his gaze locked on the ground, arms still wrapped around his chest. “Nobody goes. This is the best place for everybody. Anybody who leaves here, they get killed.”

  “That’s what we’re trying to keep from happening,” Bear said, with surprising gentleness. “You’re a smart guy—you know some of these animals aren’t doing too well right now. And your mom’s having a hard time, too. We’re just trying to help.”

  Albie took this in, glancing up to look at Bear for a split second before he looked back at the ground. “It’s not safe,” he said, half to himself. “Out there isn’t safe. In here is the only safe place for us.”

  My heart clenched at the dangerous message Nancy had taught him over the years, and I struggled to find some way to reach the man. “I like your shirt,” I finally said lamely, gesturing to his chest. “The pirate there…”

  His face transformed in an instant. “Buccaneer,” he said. There was reverence in the word. “It’s a buccaneer, not a pirate. People always get that wrong. Coach gave it to me.” He turned around, pointing awkwardly at the back. MVP was written at the top, with A. DAVIS and the number 7 beneath it. “You know what that means?” he asked.

  “Most Valuable Player,” a girl’s voice said, behind us. I turned in surprise. A pretty blond girl likely a little younger than Bear strode toward us, taking Albie in with a casual nod. “Albie got MVP when he was in high school.”

  “Georges Valley,” Albie added. “I went to Georges Valley High School. Class of 1990. Coach Pendleton. I played outfield on the baseball team.”

  “Hey, Bear,” the girl said to my son, who nodded in her direction but otherwise remained mute. She cast a long look in Jack’s direction, then shifted her attention to me. “I’m Julie Monroe,” she said. “We live next door. My mom wanted me to come over and see if I could help.”

  “You’re not supposed to be here,” Albie said, in a whisper directed at Julie. “You know you’re not—”

  “I know, I know,” Julie said, waving the comment away carelessly. “I’ll go. I just figured if you need any help…” She let the statement trail off.

  I watched with interest as she worked her way a little closer to Bear, who looked decidedly uncomfortable at her approach. Bear is a good-looking kid who hasn’t quite figured that out yet, but it’s bound to sink in eventually. Especially with the attention of girls like Julie Monroe.

  I thought longingly of Ren Mensah—another member of the Flint K-9 team, and to date the only girl to steal Bear’s heart. She’d left Windfall Island just over a month ago for California, where her father had just relocated. Ren was hard working and thoughtful and bright, and the least manipulative person I’d ever met. I could handle Ren dating my son.

  I didn’t have a clue what to do with girls like Julie Monroe.

  Thankfully, based on the somewhat wild look in his eyes, Bear was even more clueless than me.

  “I’ll talk to Nancy about the llamas and the donkey,” I said to Bear. “Go on over and check on this dog you want us to take, and I’ll meet you there.”

  Bear nodded. Albie’s momentary transformation at the memory of his glory days in high school was forgotten quickly at my words. He fixed me with a long, hard stare. “Nobody goes,” the man said quietly. “Everybody has to stay.”

  “Everything will be okay, Albie,” I said. “We’ll take good care of anyone who leaves here. You don’t have to worry about that.”

  He turned his back on me, visibly seething. A crawl of uneasiness ran through me, but I pushed it aside. Bear went to track down whatever dog he meant to save, while Julie tagged along beside him. I couldn’t shake my anxiety when I saw Albie take off after them.

  “You want me to go, too?” Jack asked. He stood with Cash still threading between his long legs, a throaty purr audible from a few feet away.

  I nodded, relieved. “If you wouldn’t mind, that would be great.”

  “No problem.” He paused. I thought he was concerned about the dogs again, but when he shifted his gaze back to me it was clear that wasn’t what was on his mind. “Be careful, all right? I don’t have a good feeling about this.”

  “Yeah,” I agreed with a sigh. “Same here. Watch your back.”

  We parted ways, and I headed back to the house in search of Nancy. A sheep, two llamas, a donkey, a dog… Would she actually agree to let any of them go now? Or at all, without a fight? It was distinctly possible that she was just telling me what I wanted to hear so we would leave her alone. Once we were gone, who knew what lengths she’d go to to keep us from coming back again.

  I was just a few feet from the shaky-looking front stoop, trying to decide whether I should brave the steps or simply call to Nancy from outside, when I heard shouting somewhere in the distance.

  “We’re taking him! Now,” Bear said, loudly enough to be heard across the yard.

  Wonderful.

  “You’re not taking anybody!” Albie’s voice countered, louder even than my son.

  I winced at the look on Nancy’s face as she came flying out of the house, a lot faster than I would have thought she was capable given her condition. Well, hell. Nothing could ever be easy, could it?

  “Albie?” Nancy called, forehead furrowed and lips set in a thin line. Mama was mad.

  “He’s trying to take Reaver,” Albie shouted in reply.

  Uninvited and largely unnoticed, I followed Nancy around the corner. Instantly, my own rational thoughts left me. I’d been here before, damn it, and I hadn’t liked it any better the first time.

  Albie stood with a gun pointed at Bear, who stood in the way of a big, block-headed dog. The last time Bear did this was just under a year ago, and it had gotten him shot and taken hostage. The boy never does seem to learn.

  “What’s going on, Bear?” I asked. It was a struggle to keep my voice steady.

  Bear stood with his hands up in front of a snarling, snapping pit bull staked in the middle of a circle of mud and feces. A mountain of a dog, with gleaming teeth and the kind of muscle that would make anyone think twice before approaching. That impression was only intensified by a mangy coat and ribs standing out clearly in the once-powerful frame. Presumably, this was the dog Bear was so committed to saving. Jack, meanwhile, stood close by with his own hands raised, though to his credit he appeared a lot calmer than anybody else in our little tableau. I waited for Nancy to intervene; to tell her boy to put the gun down and be reasonable.

  She stood beside me, breathing hard from her dash to reach Albie. Not a word passed her lips.

  “He wants to take our animals,” Albie said to his mother. The gun wavered. It was a shotgun, double-barreled and, I had no doubt, fully loaded. He hefted it back up, pointed in Bear’s direction once more.

  “This dog is starving,” Bea
r said. Despite the gun pointed at him, his voice betrayed his anger. “Just look at him. He’s dying right in front of your eyes.”

  “He’ll die anyplace else,” Albie said, his own voice rising. “They’ll kill him. They’ll kill anybody who leaves here. Right, Mom? That’s what they do. They kill all God’s creatures.”

  He was talking too fast, hands shaking. Any glimmer of rational thought I might have glimpsed before was gone now. I glanced at Nancy, and my stomach tightened. She was smiling. Pride shone in her eyes.

  “That’s right, baby,” she agreed. She shook her head sadly—purely for effect, it seemed to me. “They kill all God’s creatures out in that cruel world.”

  “That’s not what we intend to do,” Jack intervened. His voice was even. Quiet. The kind of voice you can get lost in. Or maybe that’s just me. “Why don’t you put the gun down, and we can talk about this.”

  “He’s just waiting for me to do that so he can take Reaver,” Albie insisted.

  I assumed Reaver was the dog, who frankly looked like he had no intention of going anywhere. I shoved my own anger down at sight of a prong collar biting into the dog’s neck, his body lousy with sores and mange. He couldn’t be more than four or five—a dog in the prime of his life. At the sight, I understood all too well my son’s rage.

  “Look at him!” Bear said, directing the words to me. “They’ve half killed him. They tortured him, for God’s sake.”

  “We saved him!” Albie said. “We got him down South. That man was killing him, and we got him away and we saved him. We brought him home and took care of him. And now you want to take him away from us.”

  “Saved” was a relative term. Surely the hell they had created for Reaver and the other animals here couldn’t ever be viewed as anyone’s salvation.

  “Nobody’s taking anyone right now,” Jack said. “Bear is just worried about you and your mother, because it seems like you’ve gotten in over your heads here. Like maybe there are more animals than you can handle.”

  “We were handling everything just fine until the State started sending people out here to drive us nuts,” Nancy said. “If you just leave us alone—”

  “People would leave you alone if you’d stop taking in animals you can’t take care of, and do something about the ones you already have,” Bear said. His voice was still tight, his body just as rigid. Albie kept the gun on him, unmoved by our arguments.

  The other dogs on the grounds, meanwhile, had caught wind of what was happening. Oswald and his gang of rat dogs barked ferociously at Jack, Bear, and me, though they thankfully had the good sense to keep out of reach of Reaver. The dog looked like he was prepared to rip to shreds the first thing that came within striking distance.

  “Bear, keep still,” I said, infusing the words with my best no-nonsense, I’m-your-mother-and-you’ll-do-as-I-say tone. “Albie, what are you going to do after you shoot Bear? Because if you do that, the police will definitely come, and they’ll take you away from here. You don’t want that, right?”

  Amazingly, logic actually seemed to have an effect. The man looked at me, working through the question before he shifted his gaze to his mother. The question was clear in his eyes. What do I do?

  I wanted to throttle the woman when her mouth remained shut, lips pinched tight. One word from her, I knew, and the standoff would be over.

  The seed of doubt had been planted, though. Jack stayed with it.

  “Jamie’s right, Albie,” he said. “We don’t want to see you and your mom separated. You obviously take good care of her.”

  Jack stepped in front of the man, effectively blocking Albie’s shot of Bear. The former FBI man reached his hand out, his dark eyes as compassionate as I’d ever seen them.

  “Please, Albie. Put down the gun. Then we can go home, and you and your mom can get back to your lives.”

  Another tense second, possibly two, passed. I hoped to God Bear didn’t take it upon himself to argue Reaver’s plight again. Thankfully, he did not.

  Slowly, Albie lowered the gun. He looked exhausted.

  “We’re trying to take care of them,” he said quietly, to no one in particular before his gaze locked on Reaver. “We saved Reaver, but he won’t let us near. We’re trying to help him.”

  Jack took a step toward Albie, and very calmly took hold of the gun now pointed at the ground. “I know you are,” he said. “Now, I’m just going to take this before somebody gets hurt, and I’ll put it back in the house for you. Okay?”

  Albie nodded numbly, releasing the gun.

  “You’re not setting foot in my home,” Nancy said. “Put the gun over by the barn, and get the hell off my land. We don’t want and we don’t need help—not from you, and not from anyone.”

  Jack did as he was told, showing only a hint of uncertainty at the tide of small dogs that surged forward when he stepped away.

  Bear, meanwhile, almost immediately turned his attention back to Reaver. The dog had barked himself hoarse, the prong collar pressing deeper into his larynx the more he strained. To my astonishment, however, he fell silent the moment Bear turned to him.

  “It’s okay,” Bear said quietly to the dog. “We’re getting you out of here. You’ll be all right.”

  Bear took a step toward the dog. Reaver didn’t bark. Didn’t bare his teeth, or back away. He didn’t cower. Instead, I watched as the dog’s head came up. His tail waved hesitantly.

  “Do you know this dog?” I asked Bear.

  “Ren and I came to help out here a few times this winter,” he said. He took another step, until he was inside Reaver’s circle. My son crouched, turned sideways with eyes lowered and hand extended.

  Reaver went to him without a second of hesitation.

  “He’s been trying to get that dog from me for months,” Nancy said. There was a trace of spite in the words. “I told him before, and I’ll say it again. He’ll get that dog over my dead body.”

  Bear looked her in the eye, his voice even. Reaver remained close by his side. “Fine with me.”

  My son, the diplomat. Before things could escalate again, I interceded.

  “Nancy, you know what happened here today is only going to be worse tomorrow. But if you refuse to be reasonable about this, you’re bringing it on yourself.”

  “I’m not leaving my home or my animals without a fight. If you learned nothing else today, it should be that. Now, get out of here or I’ll get the shotgun myself. And I won’t take the coward’s way out like Albie here. Once I pick up that gun, I’m not putting it down again.”

  “Come on, Jamie,” Jack said. “There’s nothing more that can be done today.”

  I considered Nancy’s words, and the reality of what would happen tomorrow. Animal welfare and the local sheriff’s office were set to come in. Nancy knew this. I couldn’t imagine her letting that happen without an outright war.

  I nodded, with no idea what else to do. “Come on, Bear,” I said.

  He looked at me, torn, with Reaver still beside him. “But—”

  “Now, Bear. He’ll be all right.”

  An empty promise if ever I’d heard one.

  Bear leaned in and whispered something in Reaver’s ear, while the dog rested against him. He stroked the pit bull’s head, took a deep breath, and stood.

  We left the grounds, the three of us, without a single soul saved of the hundred-plus animals that Nancy held captive.

  Chapter 2

  JACK, BEAR, AND I WALKED the mile trek back to the main road in silence. The sun was still shining, the birds still singing, but the day seemed darker than it had when we’d first set out.

  When we got to my truck, I wasn’t surprised to see others alongside it, including a sheriff’s car and a pickup bearing the local Humane Society’s logo. A cluster of people had gathered beside the vehicles, the sheriff and the director of the Humane Society among them. In addition, a blond woman in her forties stood alongside Julie Monroe, the local femme fatale we’d met earlier. Based on the resemblance
to the older woman, I assumed this was Julie’s mother. Beside them, a clean-cut man with his hair tinged with silver watched the proceedings with clear interest.

  “Any luck?” Sheriff Chris Finnegan asked. There was no mistaking the unhappiness in his eyes. He didn’t look hopeful.

  “She wouldn’t budge,” I said.

  The sheriff grimaced.

  “Told you,” Julie said, somewhat defiantly. Her eyes drifted to Bear, who didn’t look like he’d even noticed she was there. Still brooding over Reaver, I wasn’t sure he realized any of us were.

  “Where does that leave us?” the unknown man asked.

  Tracy Rodriguez, director of the Humane Society, glanced at Sheriff Finnegan before she spoke. “We have fosters standing by, but we don’t have a head count. Did you get any idea while you were there?” She directed the question to me, but I shook my head.

  “Nancy wouldn’t say, and I couldn’t get a look inside the barns. By the sound and smell of things, I’d say they’re full up, though.”

  “They’ve got twenty-eight dogs in the big barn,” Julie volunteered. “Albie doesn’t know how many cats are in the other barn, but he thinks maybe sixty. Twelve dogs in the house, and a bunch of rabbits in one of the rooms there. Plus three cows, five llamas, a donkey, and a bunch of goats—nine, maybe?—in the field. And a sheep.”

  All eyes turned to the girl, who flushed slightly.

  “Albie likes to talk if I’m around,” she explained.

  “I thought I told you not to go over there,” the woman said. The sound of her voice confirmed my original theory: definitely the mother. I’d know that tone anywhere.

  “I didn’t go over there,” Julie lied. “I was just hanging out by the fence, and Albie came to me. It’s not my fault if he wants to talk. I never left our property.”

  “Sorry,” Sheriff Finnegan interrupted, looking at me. “I should introduce you. This is Barbara Monroe, and her daughter Julie. And Hank—Nancy’s neighbor on the south side.”

  Hank and Barbara both nodded a greeting. I recalled Nancy’s mention of Barbara and her husband trying to get her to sell her place. Thinking of the kind of nightmare scene we’d just left, I couldn’t blame them for wanting to be rid of her.