Home Is Where Your Bark Is

Chapter 2

The rain started earlier than predicted. As Jake Stiles inched along Ashland Avenue at tail end of rush hour, he wasn’t surprised by the touch of slushiness in the fat drops splattering against the windshield. Of course, Chicago and its volatile weather-god concubine weren’t done with winter yet; it was the twenty-ninth of February. In a non-leap year, one or two more snows would undoubtedly blanket the ground before winter called it a day; in a leap year, anything went.

He shifted in the driver’s seat of his otherwise empty Jeep Wrangler and flipped on the wipers. Even before the rain increased from a splatter to a steady downfall swept sideways occasionally by gusts of wind as the front pressed in, traffic slowed to a crawl.

His girlfriend’s voice floated from the speakers, and Jake half listened, offering the occasional mandatory reply. After a little over a year together, he’d accepted that when Alyssa wasn’t asleep, interacting with her social media followers, or on her laptop with her headphones on, she was talking. She’d talked through their mutual watching of Yellowstone , Mad Men , The Sopranos , and Jake couldn’t remember what else. In bed, in the shower, and while exercising, Alyssa talked.

If you find her so objectionable, then break up with her.

Jake drummed his fingers on the steering wheel as he stopped at a red light. It wasn’t the first time he’d had the thought. It wasn’t even the first time he’d had it today. She was a good person, and dating her had been great for a nice stretch. Lately, not as much.

“So, you agree?” Alyssa had likely guessed his attention had drifted off. In her defense, his struggle with ADHD had certainly predated her.

Jake cleared his throat. It was dangerous to agree when she’d caught him not listening. Last month, he’d had to upgrade their seats to first class on their vacation to Fiji because of that. Yeah, the flight had been nice, but damn, it had cost him. “I didn’t say I agree. I just didn’t disagree .” Best to play it safe until he figured out what she was talking about.

With the red light seemingly stuck, Jake glanced over at the vehicle to his left. A woman about his age was driving a couple-decades-old Toyota Tacoma. The windows weren’t tinted, and he had a decent view of her in the dim light of the streetlight despite the rain and settling dusk. She was shaking her head just enough to tousle her hair—brown hair was his best guess in the dim light. Her shoulders were hunched forward a bit, and her lips were pressed tight like she was bracing for a blow, but the only other passenger was an impressive-looking border collie in the middle of the back seat. The dog was staring out the window in Jake’s general direction, its mouth open in a soft pant and a clever expression on its face. Longing washed over Jake. It had been entirely too long since he’d had a dog in his life.

Jake caught himself wondering what the girl to his left was upset about as he did his darndest to follow along with whatever it was Alyssa was talking about. The woman’s mouth opened as she said something quick and short. Was she on the phone or talking to her dog?

Ahead of them, the light turned green, and Jake turned his gaze to the road and the fat drops hitting the windshield more vigorously each moment.

“If you ask me, it’s ridiculous,” Alyssa was saying. “Take tonight. If you hadn’t needed to run all the way to your place, we could’ve shown up together. I wouldn’t have had to waste money on this Uber.” Her voice pulled away from the speaker long enough for her to say, “Oh, sorry. No offense.”

He overheard a distant “None taken” from the driver before she began talking to Jake again.

“And the money we’re wasting on two everythings each month—rent, utilities, parking, all of it. Honestly, it’s like taking money and lighting it on fire, Jake.”

Here we go again. Talk of moving in together had started just prior to their one-year dating anniversary and had since been broached multiple times. By Alyssa. Jake was far from in a hurry to take that step.

“I mean, we should try it,” she added. “So what that I don’t love your place? I mean, who wants to live in Logan Square when you could be in River West? But seriously, why renew my lease when rent is through the roof like this? Besides, there’re things we can do to warm up your place and make it livable till we can figure out something better.”

The hair on his neck pricked at the word livable . His place was nice. It was better than nice. It was home. “We’ve been through this. My place isn’t right for two people—especially with one of them being you. There’s zero closet space, remember?” Alyssa had so much stuff.

“There’s your office.” She hardly sounded discouraged. Never in his life would Jake pressure someone to live with them. “We could build a makeshift closet in there.”

“I work out of that office some days, and it’s not even ten by ten as it is.”

“Only a couple days a week. I can hardly see how a small closet would be an inconvenience.”

Jake bit his lip to hold back a retort. Her clothes and shoes took up every inch of her own walk-in closet and filled floor-to-ceiling tubs in her small basement storage unit. It wasn’t all her purchases; he’d give her that. Alyssa had more free stuff sent to her than anyone he’d ever met. Before they’d started dating, he had no idea that having an impressive number of followers on social media could do that for you.

Closet space aside, there was no way around it. The two of them were boiling toward another fight. They had been all week, and it was only Thursday. If he really was serious about breaking things off, he might as well let the tension build.

Was he serious?

Serious as a heart attack. Get on with it already.

Jake frowned. The thing about that inner voice of his was that, over the years, it had kept him out of trouble, but the trouble with that was it also kept him out of almost everything.

Ahead, traffic came to a stop at the next light, and Jake pressed the brake. He was disappointed not to be lined up with the girl in the Tacoma truck—and her dog. They were first behind the light, while there was a sedan ahead of him. After a handful of seconds, the sedan’s driver made an illegal right turn on red, and Jake was able to pull up next to the Tacoma again.

He glanced over to find the woman wiping tears off her cheeks with the cuff of her sleeve. It was a cold, gray, and rainy evening to be heartbroken. Had someone broken up with her? Was a loved one sick? Was it her career? It wasn’t every day that people looked that sad.

Over the speakers, Alyssa was repeating something he’d missed again, and this time her tone was less friendly.

“Sorry,” he said. “The rain’s picking up. What’d you say?”

“That we’ll talk about it later. I’ll see you there. You put on the suit and tie I told you to wear, right?”

Jake glanced down. Odds weren’t likely that he was. For the life of him, he couldn’t remember her commenting on which suit she wanted him to wear, but then again, they were his clothes. On his body. “It’s a Thursday, not a weekend, and it’s not like we’re headed to the Ritz tonight either. My sports coat will be fine.”

Her silence said everything.

Ahead of him, the light turned green. To his left, the girl gave an almost imperceptible nod, locked her hands around the wheel, and started off.

Jake spotted the eastbound SUV on North Avenue while the woman in the Tacoma didn’t. Rather than hit the brakes, the driver sped up to make the light. He was headed straight for her. As everything began moving in slow motion, Jake blared his horn.

The oncoming SUV began to fishtail just before careening into the Tacoma. With a clash of crunching metal and squealing brakes, the Tacoma was flung sideways into the grill of Jake’s Jeep hard enough that his airbags went off, exploding with a pop and a burst of air.

Jake rocketed forward, and adrenaline dumped into his system as the bags immediately began to deflate with a whoosh of air. His ears rang loudly, his limbs seemed disconnected from his body, and everything went into hyperfocus. His thoughts flashed to the woman and her dog. The oncoming SUV had plowed into the driver’s side of the Tacoma’s hood, condensing it like a pancake against the grill of his Jeep. Please, God, let them be okay.

Overhead, the rain continued unabated, and Alyssa’s panicky scream of concern over the speakers pierced Jake’s ears.

“I’m okay. There was an accident, but I’m fine. I don’t know about everyone else though. I’ll call you back.” He dashed out of the Jeep with it still running, his phone and wallet abandoned in the center console.

In the center of the intersection, the driver who’d run the red light restarted his smoking car and threw it into reverse, rocking the Tacoma as it resettled, then, over the crunching and grinding of dented metal, attempted to take off. Jake was pretty sure the expletive he screamed after the driver was heard by every person nestled in their cars within a few hundred feet of him.

As Jake jogged around the rear of the Tacoma, a brave driver attempted to block the SUV’s escape route. More steam was billowing out of its half-open hood. He doubted the driver would be able to get very far, but the panicked would-be escapist careened around the car before losing control a second time and smashing into a traffic pole.

“What the hell’s wrong with that guy?” Drunk, maybe, or on something. Or possibly someone with a record desperate not to get pulled back into the system.

Jake spotted the dog first. The animal was in full panic mode, its yap piercing Jake’s ears. It yanked backward as it warred with the canine seat belt that had kept it safe during the crash. As he turned his attention to the driver’s side window, Jake’s stomach pitched to spy blood trailing down it. The front airbags had gone off, but as old as the truck was, it didn’t have side airbags. He leaned in for a better look as the rain picked up. The woman was leaning over the deflated airbag, her eyes closed. A line of blood trailed down her temple.

A car stopped alongside him, and a woman yelled out, “Hey, do you want some help?”

“Yeah, call 911.” His not grabbing his phone as he got out of the Jeep showed the shock he’d been in. “Tell them we need medical attention.”

“You got it.”

The Tacoma’s driver’s side door was locked. Jake tapped on the window and leaned close. “Hey there, you okay? Can you hear me?”

She seemed to stir, but it was unlikely she heard him over the dog’s panicked barks. On the opposite side, the front passenger door was pressed against the grill of his Jeep. There’d be no getting in that way. Without much hope, Jake tried the rear driver’s side door and was surprised when it gave a bit. Gripping it with both hands, he yanked it open. Bent as the Tacoma’s frame was, the door creaked in protest but opened halfway before it would no longer budge.

“Hey, can you hear me up there? I’m going to open your door.” He needed to yell over the dog, who’d begun emitting a low, menacing growl as soon as the door opened. “Easy does it, guy. Easy does it. I’m not gonna hurt you.”

The dog’s bared teeth gleamed in the darkened interior, giving Jake reason to pause. Hoping to ease the panicked dog’s fears, he kept talking. There would be no unlocking the front car door without being in easy reach of a distraught and powerful canine. Maybe it was because he was sitting at waist height, but the dog looked big for a border collie. “Easy, boy, just need to open that door to get to your mamma. Make sure she’s okay. She took quite a hit. You too, I bet.” The dog—a male—was buckled in the center of the back row. While he’d likely been jolted hard, Jake was hopeful he hadn’t collided with anything the same way his owner had.

When the dog’s ears went from flattened back against his head to perked forward for a second or two, Jake made his move, reaching inside with a confidence he didn’t feel. Gaze averted so as not to threaten the dog further, Jake wedged his arm between the door and driver’s seat, fumbling for the lock. He leaned in more, and soon he was close enough that the dog’s breath tickled the rain-dampened skin on his face. “Good boy. Good boy. Almost there.”

As the biting rain soaked through his blazer to his shoulders and back, Jake’s fingertips brushed against the handle. Stretching a bit further, he popped the door unlocked. As he backed out, the dog let out something between a growl and a whine, which Jake took as progress.

When the front door would still hardly budge, Jake gripped the wet handle and, with all the strength he could summon, was able to force the door open. “Hey there, you doing okay?”

The woman had woken up and was attempting to tuck the deflated airbag into place. If she knew he was beside her, she didn’t register it. Blood ran down her temple and cheek and dripped onto the shoulder of her jacket. No doubt, she was disoriented. Reaching in, Jake closed a hand over hers to get her attention. “Hey there. How you doing? That was one heck of a hit you took.”

She looked first at his hand, then up at him and winced from the movement. It was too dark to see the color of her eyes, but her eyelashes and cheeks were still damp from the tears she’d shed before the accident.

He sank onto his heels so she could see him without looking up. “Is your neck hurting?”

Her eyes closed, then blinked open. “Maybe. My head hurts worse. What happened?”

With the road noise, he barely heard her, so he leaned in. “I’d like to check that cut of yours, okay?” Using his free hand, Jake cautiously swept the hair back from her temple. His fingers brushed against something wet and sticky. The cut was higher than her temple, up in her hair. “You got hit by an SUV. The driver ran a red light. I’m guessing you smacked up against the window here pretty hard, so it’s best you sit tight until the ambulance gets here.”

She nodded and closed her eyes. He knew not to move her if he didn’t have to. The sharp scent of gasoline and something acrid pierced his nostrils, but the engine was dead. He didn’t think there was any risk of fire, but he clicked her seat belt unlocked just in case he needed to move her quickly. Head wounds bled so much because of all the blood vessels so close to the skin—his childhood love of ice hockey had resulted in enough stitches to prove it. At the moment, he was more worried about her neck.

On the street, the woman in the passenger seat of the car idling behind them yelled out again, asking if she was okay. Over the noise from the surrounding traffic and the rain, Jake barely heard her.

“I think so,” Jake yelled back without getting up. “Did you get through?”

“Yeah, an ambulance is on the way. They gave an ETA of six minutes. Do you want us to stay?”

Jake looked around as he wiped beads of water off his forehead with the back of one sleeve. No one else had gotten out, but another driver had parked at an angle behind him and put the hazards on. A few other cars were idling near the SUV, and one car had a window rolled down and someone’s phone was stuck out, filming. Traffic was beginning to snake around the accident, though drivers were slowing down for a look first.

It struck Jake as bizarre that for some people, this would be entirely forgotten before their heads hit the pillow. Not for him.

“No,” he answered the woman. “Thanks though.” He could hear sirens in the distance.

“Okay. Be safe, and God bless you for looking out for someone else like that,” she called out before rolling up her window.

Next to him, the girl stirred awake again. She looked him in the eyes first, then down at their hands. It took this for Jake to realize he still had his hand locked over hers. At one point, without him realizing it, she’d turned her hand over so that their palms were facing.

Jake had held hands with someone he didn’t know exactly once in his life, at a work conference during an exercise on vulnerability and client care. He’d thought the exercise was ridiculous and had found an excuse to walk out halfway through. He didn’t think that now. “I don’t know if you heard that, but an ambulance is on the way. It won’t be long. Until then, are you cold? I have a blanket in the back of my Jeep. A first aid kit too.”

She shook her head and winced from the pain. “I’d rather you stay if you don’t mind. And you’re the one who should be cold. You’re getting soaked. You could come sit here.” She motioned to the passenger seat. Clearly, she hadn’t spotted his Jeep pressed up against her Tacoma.

“That’s alright. It’s not that cold. Besides, I won’t have to shower later.” Her answering smile made him want to make her smile again. “Looks like your dog’s okay.” The terrified animal had stopped barking and begun alternately whining and panting instead, which was considerably easier on the ears.

“Who?”

Jake blinked as alarm flooded in. “Your dog. He’s in the back seat, buckled in. But don’t turn in case your neck’s hurt.”

“Oh, yeah. I thought it was your dog making that noise.”

“No, not mine. I haven’t had a dog since I was fifteen.”

She looked at him again, really looked at him. “And that makes you sad?” Even before she said it, Jake was reminded of how people said the eyes were windows to the soul.

If he’d ever been asked a more personal question by someone he didn’t know, he couldn’t remember. “What’s your dog’s name?” he asked because he was out of practice when it came to being that real with anyone, much less a stranger. Then again, this was a stranger whose hand he was holding.

She blinked a few times, then her eyes fell closed. “I can’t remember. He’s had so many.”

“Oh yeah? How many?”

“I don’t know. Six. Maybe seven.”

“Maybe seven, huh? That’s a lot of names.” Jake looked back at the dog who was staring at him, ears perked. The way the terrified animal was panting so heavily, it was clear he was stressed.

“They were trying to find one that fit. He’s a mess, but the kids love him. He’s my sister’s.”

“Oh yeah?” It was good that she was talking more. He wanted to keep her awake and conscious. “Border collies can be a handful, so I’ve heard.”

“My sister would agree.” She struggled to keep her eyes open, but at least she was talking. “My sister. She was so scared tonight. She never should’ve said that. I didn’t want to know.”

Know what? Disoriented as she was, it wasn’t right to ask for clarification.

“My name’s Jake. Jake Stiles. And I can see the lights from the ambulance now. It’s almost here.”

She was quiet for close to half a minute, her eyes closed and her breathing even, and Jake soaked up little details about her. The way the tiny lines of worry on her forehead vanished as her breathing slowed. She wore a Thomas the Tank Engine sticker on her shirt inside her open jacket. Percy maybe, or Thomas. In the dim light, it was impossible to tell its color. He wondered who’d put it there, wondered if she had kids. Just because he didn’t feel a ring against his hand didn’t mean she didn’t have a partner. The reminder kept his gaze from lingering on the fullness of her lips and the smooth shape of her brow.

He was about to speak again—to keep her from slipping into a doze—when she opened her eyes. “Jake, huh? Another J. I’m Jenna. Two N’s, no H.” She shifted slightly and winced.

“It’s nice to meet you, Jenna with two N’s and no H.” That smile again.

“Are you cold?” she asked. “There may be a blanket in the trunk. Or an umbrella.”

She didn’t seem to remember that they’d just discussed his not being cold or, more alarming, that she’d been driving a truck and didn’t technically have a trunk to speak of. Jake squeezed her hand. “It’ll be only another minute or two. Can you hear the sirens getting louder? They’re almost here.”

“Will you stay?” Her eyes had closed again.

“Yeah. I’m not going anywhere. Just stay awake, okay?” In the back seat, the dog with many names was attempting to lie down, and his panting wasn’t letting up. They’d take Jenna to the hospital, Jake had zero doubt about that. If the dog didn’t calm down, he might need to swing by an emergency veterinary hospital too. “Hey, is there anyone I can call for you?”

“I think my phone might be at my sister’s. It’s not in my purse. I was going back there. After. She needs me tonight.”

“My phone’s in my car. I can run and grab it.”

Her hand tightened in his as if in answer. “Seven names, and not one of them is coming to me. That’s too sad, isn’t it? He deserves so much better. He’s a good dog. Just nobody sees it yet.”

“His name will come when you’ve rested a bit, I bet.”

She was quiet for another short stretch before her eyes opened again. She looked at him with an expression of surprise and confusion. “What happened?”

Alarm flooded in even as Jake reminded himself that concussions could cause short-term memory loss. What if her head injury was worse than he thought? What if she was bleeding internally? “You were in a car accident, Jenna. You had a pretty hard knock on the head.”

“Were you in it too?”

“Yeah, but barely compared to you.”

Thank God help was pulling up. A fire truck pulled in first, its siren changing to a quick pulse before going silent. On its heels were two ambulances. Three police cars pulled in behind them. When the first EMT stepped out of the nearest ambulance, Jake waved her over. As she started toward them, a second one and two firefighters followed her.

The sight of them walking toward the car sent the dog into a fresh round of barking and snarling that was even louder than when Jake had arrived.

“Hey, Jenna, there are some EMTs coming.” She was still holding his hand. “I’m going to step back so they can look at you, okay?”

Her grip tightened. “Will you stay with…with…the dog? I was supposed to take him for my sister. I can’t remember the name. Everything’s so foggy. But they’re waiting for him.”

Jake strained to hear her over the dog’s barking. She wanted him to take the dog to her sister’s? Even if his clothes weren’t soaked, there was zero chance in him sitting through Alyssa’s gala after this. “Yeah, don’t worry about Number Seven, Jenna. I’ll get him to your sister’s.”

Everything changed at once. As the first EMT stepped in, a firefighter offered Jake an umbrella. Moments later, a police officer pulled Jake aside with a never-ending list of questions for the accident report.

He wanted to stay at Jenna’s side as they took her vitals, but there wasn’t room, and Jake was asked question after question while the dog let the new arrivals know they weren’t welcome. At one point, Jake headed back to his Jeep for his license. He needed his phone to pull up his most up-to-date insurance card. Not finding it in the console, Jake searched around and fished it off the floor. Upon lighting the display, he spotted six missed calls from Alyssa. Before pulling up his card, he shot off a text that he was okay and talking to the police and would call soon.

By the time he spotted a stretcher being hauled out of the back of the nearest ambulance, Jake had shared what he could about the accident. “Do you know where they’re taking her?” When the officer gave him a look that made it clear he wasn’t going to relay Jenna’s private health information, Jake added, “I told her I’d get the dog to her sister.”

“I thought you didn’t know her.”

“I had ten minutes while waiting for the EMS to get to know her well enough that she’s trusting me to take her dog. I’m not going to let her down.”

“Oh yeah? Well, if she confirms it, we’ll let you take him. Otherwise, she’ll have to get him from animal control tomorrow. Or an emergency vet, if they think he needs it, and she’ll sign for the overnight charges, which aren’t cheap.”

Jake followed the officer over to the Tacoma. Two workers—an officer and one of the EMTs—were holding umbrellas over Jenna while she was being secured onto the stretcher. Jake stepped close so she could see him. “How’re you doing, Jenna?”

Her gaze flitted his direction even though her movements were restrained by a chunky neck brace. “There he is. That’s Jake.”

Four people looked his way. She’d remembered his name, even disoriented as she was.

“This brace hurts my neck,” she added as one of the EMTs shifted to make space for him. “But thanks for taking…Number Seven.”

“Sure thing. I just need an address and a phone number.”

She closed her eyes. “I hate everything about this. Especially now. And besides, I can’t even remember the name.” She went quiet again, like she was close to drifting off.

“We’ve got to get her moving,” one of the EMTs said.

As soon as the stretcher started rolling, her eyes flew open. “The address is on a Post-it in there.” She motioned in the direction of the truck. Inside it, the dog had stopped growling and gone back to panting heavily.

“I’ll find it. And I’ll get your number from them.” Jake motioned to the police officers. Surely, they’d gotten her information too.

“Okay. Please tell him I’m sorry.” She’d gone nasal, like she was crying.

“None of this is your fault, Jenna,” Jake called after her.

He watched as she was loaded into the back of the nearest ambulance. Diagonally across the intersection, the driver of the SUV was on a stretcher being loaded into the second ambulance. He was a middle-aged man whose unruly beard and thick neck brace were visible in the streetlight. One hand was clamped over his forehead and his eyes were shut, and the image warred with Jake’s anger.

As the doors of Jenna’s ambulance closed, one of the officers standing next to the Tacoma turned to him. “Hey, I’m afraid you may have been assigned an impossible task. Stressed as this dog is, there’s no getting near him. Not unless you want to risk being bitten. We’ve got a call into animal control for a snare pole. Maybe when he’s free of the vehicle, he’ll calm down.”

A snare pole? The hairs on Jake’s neck pricked. “With respect, he was calmer before you all came. I went through the back seat to unlock Jenna’s door. If you give me some space, I’d like to see if I can get him unhooked less traumatically than that.”

As the ambulance took off, sirens muted but lights on, three of the police officers stepped into a huddle. After a debate that had one of them shaking his head, a second one shrugged. “She gave you permission. But to be clear, you’ll be doing so at your own risk.”

“I know what I’ve agreed to, and I’m not keen on getting bit. If you’d just give me some space, I’ll see if I can get him to calm down again. Besides, I need to look for that Post-it in the front seat anyway.”

The three officers looked at one another as the first tow truck pulled up. “We’ll give you a couple minutes,” one of them said. “In the meantime, I’ll get her information written down for you.”

“I appreciate it.” Jake headed over with enough determination to dilute any reservation over what he’d signed up for. Jenna had said he was a good dog, but added, “ Nobody sees it yet .” What did that mean?

Jake slipped into the front seat. He took it as a promising sign when the dog stopped barking as soon as he was seated. The anxious animal’s ears perked forward, and his mouth closed for several beats.

“Any chance you’ve seen a Post-it note around here?” Talking seemed to have helped before, and Jake needed to build up all the trust he could before he got his hands anywhere near that harness. “Why she has her sister’s address on a Post-it is anybody’s guess. Maybe her sister just moved. Or maybe she’s not from around here.”

Jake searched the seats, driver’s side floorboard, and center console. Then he spotted it in the corner of the passenger floorboard. It was to an address in Pilsen, fifteen minutes or so south of here. Below it, a single name was written. Alice. Next to this, 7 PM was double underlined.

“Was there somewhere you were supposed to be at seven, Number Seven? Because that’s not going to happen. Besides, I thought she was taking you to her sister’s.”

In the back seat, the dog whined.

Jake fished his phone from his pocket and, spying the water droplets all over it, popped open the glove box in hopes of a spare napkin. “Bingo.” He dried it off, then entered the address. He’d gotten the distance right. It would take sixteen minutes to get there in this traffic, but the address wasn’t to a residence. It was to an animal shelter. Clearly, Jake had gotten something wrong.

“You have any idea what’s going on here, buddy?”

He pulled up the phone number and dialed. After pressing a few different options, he got a real person on the line. “Yeah, I’m looking for Alice.”

After his call was transferred, Alice answered on the third ring. “Intake. Alice speaking.”

His stomach tightened. Intake. “Hey Alice, my name is Jake Stiles. I’m a little confused, but I’m calling about a border collie who may have been headed your way.”

“Oh jeez. What about him? Don’t tell me he got away again?”

“No, he’s right here. But I’m understanding this right? You were expecting him?”

In the back seat, the dog whined.

“Who is this?”

“My name is Jake Stiles,” he repeated. “I was just involved in a car accident with someone who had him in the car with her. Says the dog’s her sister’s.”

“Good heavens. Is he okay?”

“He’s fine, I think. Nervous but fine. He was buckled and in the center seat.”

“Thank goodness. If he were a cat, I’d say he’s certainly used up all his lives.”

“So, they were surrendering him?”

“They weren’t the first; I’ll give them that. Look, so long as he doesn’t need veterinary care, I’ll still let you bring him in. Technically, he was an adoption with them, not a foster. It’s the owner’s responsibility to see that he gets adequate care if he needs it, and we’re too small a shelter to be able to afford after-hours veterinary services when we can avoid it.”

“He’s panting quite a bit. Other than that, he seems okay.”

“He could be in mild shock, but I know that one. He’s a nervous Nellie on his best days. And as I told that woman earlier, we close at seven. I can give you another five or ten minutes after that, tops. I have somewhere I have to be tonight.”

Jake glanced back at the furry beast behind him. The dog cocked his head and whined. Some of Jenna’s remorseful talk was making sense in this new light. Other things weren’t.

Jake lit his phone screen to glance at the time. It was ten till seven. If he worked fast, he could request an Uber—assuming he could get the dog free from the back seat without getting bitten—and get him there in the grace period Alice was offering. Technically, this was within the realm of possibility.

“Yeah, thanks, but that’s not going to happen tonight.” He wasn’t about to do that to a dog who’d just been a car wreck. “What time do you open tomorrow?”

“Nine a.m. for intakes, though I don’t get here until ten tomorrow.”

What the hell was he supposed to do now? He’d thought he’d agreed to return a dog to a person, not a shelter. This was a different story entirely. Alice gave him the name of two trusted after-hour veterinarians in the area should the dog require care, and wished him luck. Just as he was pressing End, he heard her add, “You’re going to need it.”

Silence hung in the air. When he looked over his shoulder, the dog’s mouth was closed, and he was staring at Jake with the sharpest expression he’d ever seen a dog convey.

“Sounds like you’ve got two choices, buddy. You let me unhook you without a fight. We’ll hang out tonight, and we’ll figure out tomorrow tomorrow. Or you put up a fight, and those police officers out there will have to subdue you in a snare pole, and you’ll spend the night in animal control. If I were you, I’d choose option A.”

Jake headed for the back seat with bated breath. The door was still wedged half-open, and the dog growled menacingly enough to give him pause. The dog’s white patches gleamed in the darkness while the black ones faded into the night. With the light from a streetlight in his eyes, Jake felt at a disadvantage.

“So, what’ll it be? Spend the night with me or in the pound?”

The dog rose to all fours and tugged against the seat belt again, as if attempting to communicate how much he hated this confinement. The seat belt restraint was clipped to a D-ring that was also clipped to the back of his harness just above the shoulders. All Jake had to do was unhook the D-ring, and he’d be free. Easy enough. Where was his leash? Spotting a slim gleam of silver on the floor, Jake was thankful when it turned out to be the clip of a nylon leash. Holding it in his hands, he showed it to the dog. “Remember this?”

His question was answered with a sound once again between a growl and a whine. Without wasting a beat, Jake leaned in, intent on hooking up the leash at the same time he unhooked the harness. Alice’s “Did he get away again?” comment hadn’t gone unheard.

Reaching the D-ring required leaning in enough that not only were his hands and arms in easy reach of the dog’s mouth, but also Jake’s face. He braced himself for a warning bite or at the very least another growl, but the dog went stock-still. “Good boy,” Jake repeated over and over. “Good boy.” He could feel the dog’s breath on his face, could smell the very doglike-ness of it. How long had it been since he’d been this close to a dog? “You like burgers? If I get you out of here without a bite, I’ll get you one. Promise.”

Jake and the dog sensed the moment the harness was free of the D-ring at the same time. As the dog attempted to shove past him, Jake hurriedly clipped on the leash.

Squeezing forcibly around him, the dog leaped down from the seat with a bound, landing with a startling litheness. With a look around, he shook himself off as the rain streamed down.

One of the police officers who was securing the scene with the firemen glanced over and shook his head. “Good thing we didn’t have any money on you because I’d have lost that bet. If I were you, I’d stop and buy a lottery ticket on the way home. You’re one lucky guy.”

“Oh yeah?” Jake wasn’t so sure. He was soaked to the bone, his Jeep was a big enough mess that he’d be needing a rental for an extended stretch, and an undoubtedly long night stretched ahead of him with an unfamiliar dog, and the more Jake learned about him, the less confidence he had in him. “I don’t know about that, but I did promise to buy him a burger.”