The Redemption Game Read online

  “I hate that it’s come to this,” Barbara said.

  She was a striking woman, with a slender build and thick, carefully coiffed hair that fell to her shoulders. I was surprised to find that I believed her.

  “She brought it on herself, Babs,” Hank said to her. “How many times did we tell the damn fool woman she needed to get rid of some of those animals? Or, at a minimum, stop taking any new ones in?”

  “God knows you’ve done everything you could,” Tracy said to Hank sympathetically. “Short of going to work for free over there twenty-four/seven, you couldn’t help those animals any more. The whole thing just got away from her. You have no idea how fast that can happen in this business. It doesn’t mean she’s completely right in the head, but there’s more to the story than just that. She started out with good intentions.”

  “Sorry I got out of there when Albie went nuts,” Julie said, her voice lowered, directing the words to Bear. I listened in unabashedly. “He can be scary if he gets mad enough. Especially if his mom is around.”

  “It’s all right,” Bear said, his own voice just as quiet. “I was glad—it was the right move. I wouldn’t have wanted you to get hurt.”

  At which point, Julie Monroe turned into a puddle of goo—something Bear was doubtless oblivious to.

  “So, what’s the plan here?” Hank asked, pressing Sheriff Finnegan. I forced myself to focus on the conversation, shifting away from the teens.

  “I’m going to take some time to talk things out with Jamie and Tracy before we make that call,” the sheriff said. Hank nodded, but I noticed that Barbara didn’t look too pleased at the idea of being cut from the conversation.

  “I’m happy to lend a kitchen if you need a place to stretch out or whatever,” she said. “Tim’s out of town, so it’s no trouble. There’s plenty of room.”

  To my relief, Finnegan shook his head. “Thanks, but no. I’ll give you a call if I need anything. Otherwise, just sit tight. We have things under control.”

  #

  As they were leaving, Julie asked Bear to come over to check out something in her barn—which, frankly, is just the kind of request that makes mothers the world over cringe. I expected Bear to make some excuse and stick with us, since Julie didn’t seem like the kind of girl whose barn he’d normally be interested in. I was mistaken. He mumbled something to me, eyes downcast, and followed Julie and her mother into the horizon.

  Once they were out of earshot, Jack and I broke the news to the others:

  Despite Sheriff Finnegan’s earlier assurances, we very much did not have things under control.

  “You really think they’re a danger?” Finnegan asked, after Jack and I had given him the unsavory details on everything that had happened at the Davis house.

  “Albie had a gun on us,” Jack said. “And he might have been hesitant about what to do, but I’ve been in the situation enough to know that Nancy, at least, was serious. If we had pushed hard enough, she would have snapped.”

  Tracy frowned. Finnegan looked at her searchingly.

  “I thought you said they were stable.”

  “I never said any such thing,” Tracy said. She looked peeved at the mere suggestion. “I said I didn’t know what she was physically capable of, since her health is so compromised. But that doesn’t matter, as far as I’m concerned. We’ve done these animals a disservice too long. We have to get to them.”

  “I thought I was getting through to her at one point,” I said. “Before we heard Bear and Albie fighting, it seemed like she might be open to accepting help.”

  “Right,” Tracy said, with an implicit eye roll. “Let me guess. ‘I used to be able to handle this all on my own. Nobody cares but me. It just got away from me. If I could get somebody to come in a couple of times a week…’”

  “You’ve heard that song before,” I guessed.

  “More times than I can count,” she agreed. “It always ends the same way. We get a crew in there to clean up. Take some of the animals off her hands. Somebody from the community volunteers for a week or two, maybe a month, before Nancy runs them off.

  “Next thing we know, we get word that she’s taking in animals again. We start the whole dance all over again. And in the meantime, it costs animals pain and suffering, the state in police enforcement, and my shelter is stuck with the bill to clean up the mess—again. I’m done. She needs to get out of there, and every one of those animals needs whatever shot they can get at a healthy, loving forever home.”

  I’d been thinking much the same thing myself, so I was grateful to have someone on the team with that level of clarity. It wouldn’t make tomorrow any easier, though.

  “Okay, okay,” I said. I held up my hands in surrender. “You’ve convinced me—though it wouldn’t have taken much, after seeing the condition of those animals. But at the very least, it seems like a mental health professional should be on hand tomorrow when all this goes down.”

  “We’ve got a woman we work with,” Finnegan said with a nod. “She’s familiar with Nancy’s case. They’ve even talked a couple of times without Nancy getting the rifle out and threatening to blow her head off. I’m hoping that will count for something.”

  I hoped so, too.

  “What about the animals?” I asked, directing the question to Tracy.

  “I’ve got vans, volunteers, and livestock trailers ready to roll first thing tomorrow morning. If Julie’s numbers are on target, I think we have enough foster homes to deal with everyone, though it’s hard to know for sure. We’re just going to have to let things play out. I’ve contacted a couple of outside organizations that have said they can come in and help out if needed.”

  “That’s the best we can do, then,” the sheriff said. He looked back down the road, in the direction of the Davis home. In his mid-forties, he was a big, burly man with a young face that looked inordinately weary today. He sighed. “Damn, but I’ll be glad when this is over.”

  I nodded in silent agreement. Looking around, it was clear that everyone shared that sentiment.

  #

  After the others had gone, I paused outside our truck to say goodbye to Jack, who’d met us here in his own car. The truck was idling with Bear at the wheel, and I was painfully aware that my son was watching my every move.

  “Thanks for helping out today,” I said. “I appreciate you coming along.”

  “It was interesting. And I told you: even though I’m doing the P.I. thing now, you should call me if you need me. I like working with you.”

  For a brief time, Jack had considered working for me with Flint K-9. Ultimately, it became clear that search and rescue wasn’t really his forte and he made the decision to establish himself as a private investigator in the Rockland area instead—probably a good choice given his reaction to Nancy’s pint-sized crew. He’d been here for nearly three months, though I wasn’t sure how many cases he’d actually worked in that time. Selfishly, I couldn’t deny that I was glad to have him close by. And not just for the helping hand he provided in a pinch.

  “So, I guess I’ll see you around, then,” I said.

  “I was planning on coming out tomorrow, actually,” he said. “In case you need any help.”

  “That’s all right,” I assured him, thinking once more of the look on his face at Oswald’s advances. “There’s a good local team of volunteers and workers that will come out with the Humane Society. Plus Sheriff Finnegan and his team. I’ll let you know if we need you.”

  He frowned. “Okay.” His hands were deep in the pockets of his jeans, a pensive expression on his face. I got the sense there was something more he wanted to say, but Bear honked the horn impatiently and broke the spell.

  “Thanks again, Jack,” I said. I leaned up on impulse and kissed his cheek. “Call me soon, okay? Maybe we could get coffee…”

  “That would be good,” he said. And then, also seemingly on impulse, he added, “Or dinner? I’d like to take you out. For dinner, I mean. Not coffee.”

  “That s
ounds good,” I agreed. Despite the horror show we’d just left, I felt a flutter in my stomach at the thought. “Call me. We’ll set it up.”

  “I will.” He grinned. I grinned back, feeling giddy and more than a little bit foolish.

  “Mom!” Bear called from behind the wheel. “Therese is waiting for us back at the island. I’ve got a million things to do to get ready for tomorrow.”

  I rolled my eyes at Jack. “Duty calls. I’ll talk to you soon.”

  “Soon.”

  I climbed back into the truck, neatly avoiding Bear’s eye, and resisted the urge to look back to see whether Jack was still there, watching us go.

  Twenty minutes later, we were headed across Muscongus Bay to Windfall Island.

  Therese, our on-site veterinarian, was waiting at the wharf when we docked the boat that afternoon. She was a short, round French-Canadian woman with little to no people skills and gray hair that she wore in a buzz cut. She was amazing with the animals, though. Since that was my priority in this business, I’d hired her the moment I knew I had the funds to staff the vet position full-time. Now, she took one look at Bear and frowned.

  “Where are the animals? I thought the plan was to bring at least a few back here today.”

  “Nancy wouldn’t let them go,” Bear said shortly. “They’ll be here tomorrow, though. I’ll make sure of it.”

  “What shape are they in?” the veterinarian pressed. “And what kind of numbers are we talking about?”

  “They’re bad,” Bear said. “I’m going to go up to the kennels and see how much space we have.” He’d gotten progressively quieter on the journey back to the island, his tension worrying me. Now, he brushed past both Therese and me and strode up the steep hill back to our newly built headquarters.

  Therese looked at me questioningly. “I see he hasn’t gotten any sunnier.”

  “Sorry,” I apologized. “I know he’s not a treat right now. I don’t know that anything short of Ren coming home will change that.” She nodded, but made no comment. I shifted gears once more, returning to the animals that would soon be under our care.

  “I’m not sure how many we’ll need to take,” I told Therese. “Tracy already has fosters lined up from the Humane Society network, but I know she’s counting on us, too.”

  “Sure,” Therese said. “I’ve been out to Nancy’s before. I know what kind of operation she’s running—and the kind she used to run. It’s a damn shame it got away from her the way it did. She used to do good work.”

  “So I’ve heard. The rescue business isn’t for the faint of heart, that’s for sure.” I thought once more of the animals suffering under Nancy’s care now. “Do me a favor, Therese?”

  She looked at me expectantly, waiting for me to continue. “If it ever looks like we’re taking on more than we can chew or I’m neglecting any of these guys, give me a swift kick in the butt, would you? You’re right, rescue is tough. But there’s no excuse for what Nancy is putting her animals through now, no matter how much good she might have done in the past.”

  “Oh, trust me, you’d hear from me,” Therese assured me. “Don’t worry. You and Nancy were always cut from different cloth—that woman’s got something dark going on in her head. Always has.”

  We returned to the business of figuring out where we would put all the new charges we’d soon be taking on, though Therese’s words stayed with me while we worked.

  At the moment, our numbers out on Windfall Island were already impressive. Bear and Ren had set up both a wildlife rehabilitation center and a farm animal sanctuary, which meant that on any given day we had everything from injured peregrine falcons to abandoned pygmy goats under our care.

  The island had been donated to the organization by a friend, and a couple of grants along with private donations and my own funds all helped to make the place what it was today. Volunteers and staff worked together on an extensive garden to keep the humans on the island well fed, and we had just put in the last solar cells needed to ensure we could fuel the entire place on renewable energy. Windmills installed off the coast helped considerably with that, something Bear had been instrumental in getting under way. It was the culmination of years of hard work for me, but it was unquestionably worth it.

  That night, it was after midnight by the time we finished feeding and exercising everyone on the island and then prepped for new arrivals. With Phantom—my stalwart K-9 partner, a German shepherd I’d saved from euthanasia seven years before—by my side, I limped wearily back to the dormitory-style barracks recently completed for Flint K-9 staff who lived out on the island.

  The dorms are more monastic than many would like, I’m sure, but personally there are times when I find the simple twin bed, bedside table and lamp, and my little salvaged dresser a welcome relief from the overstocked world on the mainland. Tonight was one of those times.

  I changed into T-shirt and yoga pants while Phantom took her rightful place at the foot of my bed, and I got under the covers. Phantom inched her way up to a spot by my side, and sighed heavily as she lay her head on my pillow.

  During our search in Bethel over the winter, Phantom had had a scuffle with a coyote. She’d recovered nicely from that by now, but there was no question that time was catching up to my nearly ten-year-old K-9 partner.

  “Night, sweet girl,” I said to the dog.

  I felt her tail thump against my leg as her eyes sank shut. Phantom was asleep long before I was that night. The last thing I remember thinking before I finally sank into dreamland was, I wonder how in Hades we’re gonna get those animals away from Nancy tomorrow. And whether she’ll survive losing them.

  I didn’t have to wait long for my answer.

  Chapter 3

  IT WAS THREE-THIRTY the next morning when my cell phone rang, the bedroom pitch black. Phantom woke at the sound and was immediately on her feet, breathing down my neck as I answered. She knew what a middle-of-the-night phone call usually meant:

  Work.

  “Flint K-9,” I answered, my voice clear despite my grogginess. In this business, you learn to wake up fast.

  “Jamie?” It was Tracy, from the Humane Society. I recognized the voice immediately. My head cleared, dread dawning.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked. Somehow, I was afraid I already knew.

  “Something happened over at Nancy’s,” she said. “The animals got out—or someone let them out, looks like. They could be all over the county by now.”

  “Where are Nancy and Albie?” I asked.

  A full three endless seconds ticked by before she answered. “Albie’s missing. And Nancy… I’m not getting a lot of details so far. Maybe a heart attack. The coroner’s not talking.”

  “You’re saying she’s dead?”

  “I don’t know anything more than that,” Tracy said. “Everything’s kind of crazy right now, and they’re not releasing any official information.”

  She sounded exhausted. “The problem now is that all of those animals of hers are scattered to every corner of the county. You think you can come out and lend a hand rounding them up?”

  “Of course,” I agreed. “But you said Albie’s missing? Do they need dogs looking for him?”

  “The sheriff didn’t say, but you may be getting a call. You know Albie: I don’t think he would have gone far. My priority right now is the animals.”

  I was already thinking ahead, caught up in what we would need; what we would face. How many of Nancy’s dogs might be reactive to other dogs? Or aggressive toward people? And now they were running loose, Nancy no longer there to be their buffer from the outside world.

  “You want dogs or just extra hands?” I asked.

  “I’d leave the dogs behind unless you want one of Nancy’s wolverines to shred them to pieces. Just bring anyone on your team you think can handle themselves. I’ve already got someone alerting the area, so locals will hopefully get their pets inside and keep the doors locked until we can do something.”

  Good luck with that, I though
t grimly.

  “Okay,” I said. “I’ll get there as fast as I can. Are you telling people to keep their guns locked up and their knickers on straight? I’d like to take as many of these animals alive as possible.”

  “It’s Maine. There are a lot of people out there who won’t think twice before pulling the trigger on an animal if they think they’re trouble. You know that.”

  I did know that. People in this area loved their animals, but Nancy’s mangy, snarling renegades were hardly the kind of fluffy puppies that would tug most people’s heart strings.

  “I’ll get there as fast as I can,” I repeated, even more determined now.

  I went to Bear’s door, just across the hall from mine, as soon as I was off the phone and had pulled on proper clothes. To my surprise, I got no response when I knocked. I tried again. Bear has always been a light sleeper; it used to drive me nuts trying to keep him down when he was little, back when we shared a studio apartment in Washington State. Knocking more than once to rouse him for a call was almost unheard of.

  Regardless, I got no response the second time around, either.

  Uneasy now, I pushed the door open.

  His bed was unmade, but that was hardly unusual—left to his own devices, my son isn’t exactly a neatnik. He and his dog Casper were nowhere to be found, and there was something eerily uninhabited about the room.

  You’d do well to keep an eye on my son, Brock Campbell said in my head. I tensed, a wave of nausea accompanying the sound of the familiar voice.

  I’d first heard Brock’s voice during a search in Bethel over the winter, when a group of battered women on a dogsledding expedition had gone missing. Since that search ended, I hadn’t heard Brock often—but I had heard him. I knew he wasn’t gone; knew that, when the circumstances were right, he would be back.

  Knowing that didn’t stop my churning stomach or the pounding in my head that inevitably accompanied every visit.