Chapter 8

Bethany watched, as he walked outside, hopped into his vehicle, and drove away. She shook her head. "What could he possibly see driving around in the truck?" Yet she also knew that he must have a plan.

"Interesting person," Liza noted from behind Bethany, "and he seemed to handle the office pretty well."

She looked over at her and smiled. "He was a freaking lifesaver today. I still can't believe l asked a veteran to answer my phones."

"No, I can't either," Liza said, on a chuckle. "Still, all this mess with Mel and Page just makes me very sad." Liza watched Conall's vehicle disappear from the parking lot. "What's he doing now?" she asked.

"He'll go look for Bacchus." She noted that Liza shifted uncomfortably. Groaning softly, Bethany suggested casually, "Look. If you know anything, please say so. You have no idea how this is steamrolling potentially into something big."

Liza winced but added, "I don't know anything for sure, but I wondered if I saw Bacchus a few days ago, but I didn't know who he was with or if it was even him."

"And you didn't say anything?"

"If I would have been sure, I would have, but,… but I wasn't. Although I do know that the dog I saw was happy, so I figured it wasn't a problem anyway."

"However, it is a problem because Bacchus is a War Dog," Bethany pointed out, "and Conall is here on behalf on the War Department."

Liza immediately winced. "Oh, God, I should have mentioned that earlier to him."

"I suspect he already knows that you didn't because he mentioned something about you."

She stared at her in shock. "What do you… What do you mean?"

"He's somebody who very easily seems to know who's lying," she shared, with a shrug.

"So, what do I do now?" Liza stared out the window glumly. "I didn't set out not to tell him. I just didn't want to give him half answers, not when I don't really know anything."

"But even half answers are something. He could have headed in that direction and maybe checked it out. You should tell him. If it wasn't all that far from here, maybe text him to let him know." She looked over at her surgical assistant.

Liza nodded. "That's probably the best answer. Can you text him for me? I don't have his number." And Liza gave Bethany the location where she might have seen Bacchus.

Bethany quickly pulled out her phone and sent Conall a text, giving him the sketchy details, yet not naming Liza as the source.

His response came back. Is that what Liza told you?

Bethany held out her phone for Liza to see.

Her face paled. "His lie radar really is kind of scary."

"He is kind of scary, but he also did a hell of a job in the office," Bethany noted wistfully, as she turned and looked around.

"You're not thinking about keeping him on, are you?" Liza asked.

She snorted, staring at her assistant. "I doubt that this is even something he could take on, considering he's here on behalf of the War Department," she reminded her, "but we would be blessed to have him for any time we could get him. He handled all the people and the animals so easily."

"But we didn't exactly have anybody cranky today."

"Oh, I don't know about that. John Bennett was here, and you know that he always makes the girls cry."

Liza nodded slowly. "John is a bit of an asshole."

"John just cares a lot about his dog."

"Sure, but he brings his dog in here every week, and nothing's ever wrong with him."

"And yet today John and his dog left happy and content, and that's mostly because of Conall."

"I hear you," Liza said, with a nod. "You're right. To have someone like that running interference in the front office is huge." She shrugged. "If you want him, I can work with him," she muttered, "but it'll be awkward when I see him next."

"No, it won't be awkward at all. The only one who'll feel awkward is you, and that's because you didn't tell him anything," Bethany explained. "Yet now that we've told him, it's a done deal."

After saying goodbye to Liza, Bethany locked the door. Just as she went to head into the back to her office to deal with the paperwork that still needed to be done, Mel's mother, Kassie, drove up with the extra keys.

She hopped out, raced over, and gave them to her. "I'm so sorry to be this late. I've been trying to get here since we talked, but things were really crazy."

"Have you heard from Mel?"

She shook her head, tears in her eyes. "No, I haven't heard a thing from her, but I'm hearing all kinds of strange rumors now."

"Oh, you mean the fact her blasted boyfriend stole everything out of Michael's bank account, so they had something to run with?"

Her mother's jaw dropped. "Oh, please not, please, please, please not," she whispered. "Is that really true?… Her father will kill her."

"Yeah, well, it'll be a whole lot worse than that, since the law has been brought in on it now."

Kassie frowned. "Before she took off, she told me something about Page having every right to take the money from the account."

"Really?" Bethany asked, with a frown. "Page had been given access to Michael's bank account, so he could pay the bills because it's difficult for Michael to get out to make his own payments, given he's in a wheelchair and his vehicle has not yet been modified to accommodate that. Page also stole the money designated for Michael's property taxes."

"Oh, no. Even in a wheelchair he can barely maneuver," Kassie shared, tearing up again.

"Exactly, and, instead of helping Michael, Page went to the bank and took out all his money. Stole his car too."

She shook her head. "But that's so wrong, so wrong."

"Are you telling me that she knows better?" Bethany asked.

"I can tell you that she was raised better," Kassie whispered, "though I've got absolutely no excuses because I don't know how all that happened, and I don't know how to fix it. I have no idea what's got into her. Her father is raging like you wouldn't believe," Kassie shared, "so I need to go." And she turned and raced back to her vehicle.

Bethany looked down at her spare keys that had come from Mel's home, wondering if she should give them to Conall, then realizing she could just be making the same mistake all over again. As she looked at the keys, she noted something was off about them, and then it struck her. Some substance was stuck on them, and her heart sank. Knowing what it was, she immediately picked up her phone, took a photo of it, and sent it off to Conall.

He called her a few minutes later. "What is that?"

"I'm not sure. I was hoping you could confirm it for me. Mel's mother brought the keys, and I was grateful to have them, until I looked closer and saw what looks like a waxy substance on them."

"Like they took an impression of them?"

"I don't know for sure," she replied, "but I'm afraid so."

"Damn. Time to get the locks changed."

"I can't get anybody tonight," she cried out. "What are the chances that Mel and Page are still in town or are at least nearby?"

"Slim, but it doesn't matter," Conall stated. "I'll stay there tonight."

"What about Michael?"

He immediately started swearing.

"I know. That's how I feel too," she snapped in a fit. "I'll stay here."

"What? No, that's a bad idea."

"It's nothing. I mean, it's not like I have anything here for them to steal."

"You may not have any more cash for them to steal, but you do have equipment that they can sell and…" He hesitated, then said, "I presume you've got drugs."

"Oh my God," she cried out, "I wasn't even thinking of the medications, but, yes, I have a lot of those here."

"It could very well be next on their list."

"But that would just finish his reputation, if the cops ever catch him," she muttered. "If they do that, they'll be headed to the big-time crimes and the longer prison sentences that go with it."

"Exactly," Conall replied. "I don't want to leave Michael home alone either."

"That's what I mean, so I'll just stay here myself," she declared.

"Nope, that's too dangerous. See if we can get the locks changed tonight. If we can't, how do you feel about staying at Michael's place?"

She stared at her phone. "What? Why?"

"Because… the locks have been changed there already, so it's safer, and I'll stay at the vet clinic," he suggested in a wry tone. "That way we can keep all bases covered."

"You think there's a bigger chance of Page coming back here to the clinic than going to Michael's house?"

"Did you see the furniture at Michael's? I'm not sure there's a whole lot that Page can steal from there to sell, but at your clinic? It's a whole different story."

"God damn it," she muttered.

"Start making phone calls to see if you can get a locksmith, even if you have to pay an extra emergency fee to get it done tonight," he said. "This is not something we should fool around with."

"I'm on it, though I'm not sure how well it will go," she muttered. She disconnected and started pacing, as she phoned the one and only locksmith in town. He was not impressed. "I know, and I hear you, but it's not as if I accidentally lost my keys or something like that," she explained. "This is somebody I fired for stealing, and, while she still had the keys in her possession, it appears that she and her boyfriend have made an impression of these keys, at least that's what I assume from the sticky stuff I'm seeing on the keys themselves."

Silence came from the other end. "Now that's a whole different story," he muttered. "I guess I'm coming out to your place."

"Yes, please do."

"Are you there now?"

"I am," she confirmed.

"Okay, fine. I'll be there in about twenty minutes. Hang tight." And, with that, he hung up.

Sighing with relief, she immediately texted Conall back. Crisis averted. Locksmith on his way now.

She got a thumbs-up for her efforts, but it was enough. Just knowing that she had somebody else to even talk to about this whole mess gave her a false sense of security that this would all work out, when, of course, absolutely no way to know that anything would work out at all. This was a bad deal right from the start.

She should have listened to her gut and not hired Melanie to begin with. Now here she was, running up an expense she didn't need, on top of a minor theft that she also didn't need. Yet it really wasn't about the money; it was all about the betrayal. Apparently Mel had absolutely zero sense of right or wrong when it came to shit like that.

As soon as Bethany got off the phone, she headed back to her office to wait for the locksmith and to hope that maybe they could get this changed quickly.

As she sat down, she got busy on her paperwork, then heard an odd sound. She froze, but then realized it would be the locksmith and bolted out to the front. Instead of the locksmith, Mel walked in the door. Bethany glared at her. "What the hell are you doing here?"

Mel froze. "You're supposed to be gone," she cried out.

"Guess what," Bethany snapped, her temper flaring, "I'm not." Right behind Melanie was Page. "And you," she added, holding back her anger, "you asshole. How dare you steal from your uncle, leaving him with nothing, and now here you are breaking into my place. What the hell?"

"We didn't break in," he replied, with a smug smile. "She's got keys."

"She's also been fired and using them now is burglary, even if you didn't break in," she clarified. "You're still stealing."

"I haven't touched nothing," he pointed out, looking at her with a cocky smile, "so I don't know what you're talking about."

She looked back at Mel. "What are you doing, Mel? What are you making of your life? Your mom has been trying to get a hold of you all day."

Mel snorted. "The only reason is so she can yell at me. Why the hell would I even pick up the phone for that?"

"Do you think this is a game?" Bethany asked her. "People are getting hurt. Like Michael, when you stole his money."

Mel argued, "No I didn't." She looked over at Page now.

"I didn't either," the gangly kid argued cheerfully. "He gave me access."

"So, you think that because he gave you access to pay his bills, it was okay to take his money for yourself?"

He shrugged. "It doesn't matter. Besides, that's small potatoes compared to the stuff you've got here."

"And you think I'll just sit here and let you take it?" she asked in astonishment. But what he did next was something she never dreamed would ever happen.

He pulled out a gun and immediately fired one shot at her feet.

He grinned at her shocked look, as she hopped back. "Yeah, I think you are."

Conall walked alongthe road, trying to figure out where the War Dog would have gone. It was a fairly inhospitable landscape off to the side from the parking lot. Working backward, Bacchus would have taken off outside, but that didn't mean he would have gone anywhere in particular. He knew this place and this town, so chances were, wherever he had gone was exactly wherever he wanted to be, and that was what Conall didn't know. As he kept wandering along, he watched the vehicles, but the road was calm and fairly quiet. There was traffic, but it wasn't hard or intense.

When he got to a gas station up ahead, he walked in and asked if they had seen Bacchus. He had a picture of him, which he showed the attendant.

The man looked at it and nodded. "Yeah, I've seen him. It was a few days back now. I've seen him a couple times now. He comes in with Danny."

"Danny," Conall repeated. "Who's Danny?"

He shrugged. "Danny is one of the neighbors up here." He pointed down the road. He hesitated. "He wouldn't have done anything to hurt the dog."

"Maybe not, but the dog was easily spooked, and the owner is a war veteran, entrusted to look after the dog. So now that Bacchus has gone missing, it's caused a lot of upset everywhere."

"You're likely to have a lot of upset with Danny too." The attendant winced. "I might as well just tell you. Danny's got Down syndrome. He's in his forties, and, ever since he found the dog, he's been all over it."

Conall studied him and nodded. "That would explain why nobody has seen him."

"Oh, a lot of people have seen him, but they haven't mentioned anything about it." The man smiled. "Danny is harmless, and, if anything makes him happy, most people are inclined to let him have it."

"Sure, but this is not his dog."

"I'm not so sure about that because I've seen him with that dog a lot over the last few months. Maybe we're talking about a completely different dog," he suggested, glancing back at the photo. He shrugged. "I can't be sure it's the same dog."

"I have to check it out, so where will I find Danny?" When the man hesitated, Conall added, "I'm not trying to cause trouble, but we have a retired military veteran who needs the dog for support to help Michael get through the day. I understand that Danny may have fallen in love with Bacchus too, but we also need to ensure that Bacchus is well looked after."

"I'm pretty sure that Danny's got him, and he's looked after and much more."

"Maybe, and maybe there is a way they can share the dog," Conall suggested. "The War Department sent me to find the War Dog, and, if it wasn't me, it would be somebody else."

"Right, so you're not going away?"

"No, I'm not going away," he confirmed, with a small smile. He turned to look directly at the man. "So, where will I find Danny?"

He sighed, then shrugged. "He just lives up the road here." He pointed out the back. "I don't have an address for him, but I know he's somewhere around there. You can always see him outside walking, especially now that he's got the dog."

"Right," Conall noted. "It could be a lot worse news. I mean, Bacchus could have been run over by a car again. I understand he had an incident with a car not long ago."

"Right," he agreed, now brightening, "but I sure as hell don't know anything about that. Yet I do know that Danny looks after the dog really well."

"I'm glad to hear that," Conall said. "I'll go easy. I promise."

"You do that because Danny really is harmless."

"Good to know. Does he have a mom here or family?"

"He does, and she works at the corner store down there, which is why you often see Danny hanging around there too."

"Okay, good enough." Conall turned to walk out but then added, "Don't call him to let him know I'm coming, please. No need to delay the inevitable."

The man flushed, his hand immediately pulling back from the phone, like he'd been in the process of grabbing it.

Conall nodded. "It'll just prolong the process, if I have to hunt him down again, if you do call, and if they decide to hide him. If they know that I'm coming about the dog, it'll upset everybody, and we don't need that."

"No, no," he muttered thoughtfully. "I guess not. It's your business, you and Danny, I guess."

"If it isn't his dog, he doesn't get to keep it, and you might want to think about Michael, who owns the dog."

"If he lost him…"

Conall cut him off. "Michael's an older disabled veteran in a wheelchair, and his nephew had taken Bacchus to be checked out at the animal clinic, after the earlier incident with the car, but he lost him."

"Right.… That would make a stupid kind of sense, wouldn't it?"

"Not to me, and maybe not to you, but to the nephew? Well,… he's kind of a loser, if you ask me."

The man snorted. "Yeah, kin can often be trouble," he shared. "Go find Danny and talk to him, but I am telling you that he's a good person."

"I'm glad to hear it." Conall smiled and left.

As he headed back outside, he walked in the direction of the corner store. As he approached, vehicles were coming and going from there continuously. The store must be doing a good business, as it was bustling. He walked inside, noting the woman at the cash register. He smiled at her, as he walked up. "Hey, are you Danny's mom?"

She nodded, returning a smile. "Yep, I sure am. What's he done now?"

Conall chuckled. "I don't know," he replied, "but I understand he picked up a new dog a while back."

"The dog was lost," she explained, a frown on her face. "Danny's just been looking after him."

"That's good," Conall noted, "because that's a lost War Dog."

She stilled and looked at him. "He really loves that dog." She seemed to know where this conversation was headed.

"I understand that," he said, cutting her off, "but somebody else loves the dog too. I don't suppose you know an older veteran named Michael."

Her face beamed. "Yeah, I do. I used to know him quite well, way back when, but then… he came home from the war, and life got in between us. My husband got sick, and life wasn't so easy, so I kind of lost track of Michael."

Conall nodded. "I understand. Michael is having a pretty rough time of it right now, and that nephew, who was supposed to be here helping him, well, he's no good."

"Yeah, I could have told Michael that," she snapped. "When I saw that punk around town and realized who it was, I had two minds on whether I should call Michael and ask him what the hell he was doing with that loser here but decided against it."

"Maybe you should call him now because he's feeling pretty beat up and abused by the world."

She immediately came around the counter, her arms wrapped around her chest, as she asked, "What happened?"

When he explained it to her, she gasped in horror. "Oh my God, Danny would never have taken the dog, if he'd known that was going on."

"And yet"—Conall looked directly at her—"I believe that dog has been regularly going to your place for a long time now, like weeks and even months."

She flushed. "But we didn't know it was Michael's. The dog would come up to the door, and Danny would open it. He eventually started coming in. After that, he would come and visit for a while. Then he would go to the door, and he would leave again."

"It all started happening more when the nephew showed up in town," Conall explained.

"Well, damn, that young man has a lot to answer for."

"He does, but that doesn't mean that he'll answer for any of it because you know what the law is like around here. I've only been here a few days, and I've seen plenty that should have been dealt with but hasn't been."

"Michael needs to ensure his nephew pays for it."

"Agreed, but Michael's feeling pretty vulnerable at the moment. Somebody he chose to trust just stole every penny he had, and his beloved pet is gone, and now he's all alone. That's not exactly the kind of thing we want him to be feeling right now. Not on top of the heavy load he already carries."

Her shoulders sagged, and she asked, "You want me to take the dog from Danny and bring him home, right?"

"What do you think? You know Michael."

"I've known Michael a long time," she admitted. "I didn't know it was his dog though."

"You didn't really care to find out either, did you?" he pointed out.

She flushed and added, "It's hard enough just looking after Danny."

"Understood," Conall noted, "and I'm not trying to upset Danny either, but I do need to know that Michael will be okay."

She ran her hand through her hair. "I should have messaged him a long time ago about that nephew of his."

"How did you know he was trouble?"

"I caught him stealing here at the store," she shared. "I caught him stealing and told him to get his ass out of here, or I would press charges. I haven't seen him since."

"It's too bad you didn't press charges because now he's cleaned out Michael's bank account. Page and his girlfriend stole from the animal clinic too."

"Shit," she muttered. "I'll go talk to Michael."

"Why don't you get Danny too and bring Bacchus over to Michael's place? But you and Danny both need to understand that Bacchus needs to be where he was placed. I was sent here to find him and to get him home."

She hesitated and then nodded slowly. "I may as well tell you. Michael and I had a thing going on years ago.… I didn't realize it was so bad for him now."

"I think he's hit rock bottom, and he's trying to figure out how to find his way back up again. However, he's got to care in order to be motivated to make that climb."

She stared at him, her jaw working slowly. "I'm definitely calling him then," she snapped. "He went off to war, and I married somebody else instead." She shook her head. "I just couldn't be a war bride, never knowing if he would come home again."

"He came home in pretty rough shape and has been going downhill. I know he would really appreciate it if somebody would reach out a hand and would show him some kindness, you know?"

"Done." She immediately picked up the phone and dialed a number, which went to voice mail. "Danny, answer the damn phone, will you?"

When his voice came through the phone, she smiled and asked, "Hey, have you've got the dog with you?"

Conall heard Danny's voice in the background, happily chatting away. "Bring him to the store, honey." She looked back at Conall and asked him, "Where's your vehicle?"

"I'm parked nearby the vet clinic, where he went missing from."

She nodded. "It'll take Danny a little bit to get here, so go get your vehicle and come on back."

He hesitated and she shrugged. "Look. I don't have any ax to grind, and, if I'd realized it was Michael's dog, I would have brought him home. I would have stopped him from coming over, but it seemed like the dog wasn't liking life very much."

"Again, we're back to the nephew…" Conall said.

"Yeah," she muttered, "he was trouble right from the start."

"Agreed, and now he's just in bigger trouble." Conall looked at his watch and added, "I'll be back in about twenty minutes."

"Good enough," she said. "I'll keep Danny in the dark here. I don't know how it will go, but he'll be pretty upset."

"Maybe he can come to Michael's house with me, and we can be part of the same reunion."

She raised her eyebrows. "That could work, and I'm off here in about half an hour anyway."

"So, maybe you should come over and see him too."

She smiled. "It's been a long time."

"Yeah, it's been a long time for Michael too. It's hard to come home from the war broken, disabled, and knowing that everybody hates you because you're a reminder of what they should have done but didn't."

"He was always stubborn, strong-headed, and willful," she shared, with a smile, "but he always had heart."

"And that hasn't changed."

"How bad is he?"

"He's in a wheelchair, missing one leg. I don't even know the extent of his injuries, but he should have been getting some care and some help,… and he hasn't been getting that either. I'm trying to see what his needs are and give him a hand."

"I appreciate that," she replied, "and thanks for the heads-up. We tend to bury our heads in the sand, and we don't do what we should."

"Yeah, you got that right."

With that, he lifted a hand and headed back out, feeling relieved that at least he had a line on the War Dog. He still had to see the dog to confirm that it was Bacchus and that he was healthy and well cared for. This was a better outcome than he could have hoped for. The fact that two people loved the dog could cause troubles, but maybe they could work something out together. He didn't know yet.

He walked back to his truck, got in, and headed to the vet clinic. Just as he came around the corner, he thought he saw a vehicle outside. As he got closer, he saw three people inside the big glass front doors. That had to be the locksmith. Deciding to confirm that the locks were changed to something more secure, he stepped up closer, heading down the parking lot. He froze when he realized who was there and that he was brandishing a gun. Instead of rushing forward, Conall stepped back and called the sheriff's office.

When he put his phone away, he crept around to the back door and tested it. Finding it locked, Conall pulled out his wallet, where he kept a tiny pick, and had the back door opened in seconds. Swearing at the terrible system she had, he walked through, calling out, "Hey, honey. I thought you would be home by now."

Dead silence came from the other room.

Conall walked straight through to the lobby, where the three of them stood. He nodded at Melanie. "Look at that," he stated. "We wondered if you'd taken a copy of the keys. That's a felony by the way, so don't complain that you weren't warned."

"No, it's not," she argued, staring at him. "Where the hell did you come from?"

"Doesn't matter where I came from," he replied, eyeing her with interest. When he turned to Bethany, she was pale but had hope in her gaze, when she saw him. "And here I thought it was the locksmith working away in here."

"He's on his way," Bethany shared, with a nervous glance at Page.

At that, the nephew and Mel looked at each other and started to back out. "We'll be back," Page announced, with a laugh. "It's not like a lock will change anything." And, with that, he raced outside, dragging Mel with him. They got into the vehicle, laughing and giggling, as they tore off down the road.

Then Conall noted a bullet hole in the floor. He frowned, asking her, "Seriously?"

She nodded. "First thing he did was fire at my feet," she whispered. She looked at him, her gaze huge.

He opened his arms, and she collapsed into them, bawling.