And then they were gone, and there was just the terrified dog, barking and whining and making the most pitiful, angry sounds. Cora couldn’t get a good look at him through the bushes, but there was something she could do. She had the shelter’s number in her contacts, so she placed a call.
“I think I just saw two men drop off a dog in the industrial park behind the Shopper’s Way,” Cora rushed out when one of the volunteer receptionists answered. “Is Maria there?” When Maria picked up, Cora detailed everything she saw.
“Whatever you do, don’t try to approach it, Cora,” Maria cautioned.
“I won’t. We’re behind a fence. But he’s really whining now, Maria. I think he’s hurt.”
“I’m sending animal control to you. Can you wait?”
“Yes. Should I call the cops, too?” she asked.
“Animal control will call it in. Just hang tight.”
Cora did, with the boys at her side, a little scared but a lot more angry at those men. Fifteen minutes later, two men in a boxy van arrived, first for the dog, and then to interview her.
Subduing the dog, a Rottweiler, it turned out, was not something she could watch—and she didn’t let the boys watch, either. Because it involved shooting him with a tranquilizer, and even though that’s what it took to safely get the dog the help it needed, Cora didn’t want to see an animal get shot.
Unbidden images of Meat’s blood rolled through her mind’s eye . . .
By the time she’d recounted what they’d come upon, provided descriptions of the men and truck, and forwarded her pictures, Cora was late. Really late. She shot off a quick text to Haven and headed with the boys into the store.
“We’ll have to hurry,” she said. “Bunny and Haven are waiting on us.” The boys were unusually helpful as they speed-shopped throughout the aisles, Ben pushing the cart and Sam running off to find items here and there. Twenty-five minutes later, Cora hoped she hadn’t forgotten anything as they loaded up her trunk.
It felt like a whole day had passed by the time they were fastening their seat belts again.
And then Sam leaned up from the backseat. “What you did was really badass, Cora.”
“Sam!” she said, trying not to chuckle. Or melt at what looked like admiration in his eyes. “Language, dude.”
He rolled his eyes, but she imagined it was hard not to pick up a few bad habits when you grew up around a biker club. “Sorry. But it’s true.”
“Sam’s right. Even his bad word is right.”
Cora turned in her seat. “And what do you know about his bad word, Mr. Bean?” That made both of them laugh, since they’d watched movies with the British actor who’d once played that role and knew who he was.
“I’m just sayin’, Coowa. It was bad butt.”
That had them all laughing, and it felt good after the stress of having witnessed men who might be involved somehow with all the dogs that’d been appearing in the area. She could only hope that something she’d seen could help even a little.
Being later than planned meant that Bunny and Haven were already neck-deep in cooking and baking for that night’s race party, a weekly tradition for the club. About midway through the races, club members started showing up to hang out for the rest of the night, until nearly the whole club, friends and family of members, Hang-Arounds, and women the brothers referred to as Biker Bunnies overran the place, turning it into a loud and rowdy party that was often as crazy as it was fun.
The boys ran off to watch TV in the rec room, and Cora recounted what she’d seen as she unpacked the groceries and got to work in the Ravens’ big kitchen, styled in a mix of old mountain inn and new industrial touches. “I still can’t believe I saw that,” Cora said, washing her hands. “But I really hope something I witnessed might help. The shelter’s director said the authorities have been looking into this for a while without much to show for it.”
Bunny squeezed her shoulder. “You did good, hon. But please be sure to let the guys know what happened. I don’t love the sound of all this.”
“I will,” Cora said, eager to see Slider later at the races. After spending all day yesterday repairing some equipment at the track, he was actually eager to attend a race for the first time in a long time, so they were meeting after his daytime shift at the shop.
“You sound like you’re really enjoying working at the shelter,” Haven said, a big smile on her face as she scooped warm cookies off a tray.
“Well, I’ve only worked two days so far.” Cora grinned, pitching in with the cookies. “But it is a lot of fun. I get to walk the dogs and feed them and play with them, and I think Maria is going to let me assist in the clinic, too.”