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Patricia depressed one button on the phone. “Your attorney can contact the facility’s legal team. By the time you get a suit filed against me, your grandfather will be living elsewhere. Do you know how long it takes just to get a court hearing? Or how dreadfully expensive all the legal fees can be?”
Crystal had been raised by Tuck to believe there was at least some good in everyone. But this woman had a heart wrapped in barbed wire.
Thinking fast, Crystal decided she could make the call later and carefully phrase what she said so Tanner Richards wouldn’t be fired. More of a for-your-information call and a request that no more contraband be delivered to her grandfather. “All right. I’ll lodge a complaint first thing in the morning.”
“You’ll do so now and in my presence.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“You will make the phone call in my presence, so there’s no question in my mind that you’ve followed through. If you refuse, I can only take it to mean that you knew about the delivery and are trying to protect the perpetrator. In that event, your grandfather must leave the premises immediately, and all his belongings, including furniture, must be off this property by five o’clock tomorrow afternoon.”
If Patricia followed through on her threat, it would mean almost certain financial ruin for Crystal. She couldn’t work and care for her grandfather at the same time. And there would be complications for Tuck as well. She put out a hand and steadied herself on the wall.
She allowed herself an instant’s fantasy of trying to contact an attorney or a governmental advocate for the elderly. But it was after normal business hours. All she could do was leave messages, and she would get no responses until sometime tomorrow. What if the assisted living facilities in Crystal Falls had no openings or refused to take Tuck because Patricia claimed he was violent? Even if she took Tuck home, she couldn’t move all his furniture out of here by herself. She needed to find a crew of helpers, and that would take at least a day, if not two. Knowing Patricia, the woman would call a secondhand store and give away anything of Tuck’s that remained in the building after five tomorrow afternoon. The burl coffee table had been one of her grandmother’s prized possessions, and Tuck’s bedroom set was another family heirloom. He’d be heartbroken if he lost all those pieces.
Crystal sat down, uninvited, and endeavored to keep her expression under control as she placed the phone call under the stern eye of the administrator. When the conversation ended, she met Patricia’s gaze. “Are you satisfied now? I’ve jumped through all your hoops and possibly damaged my relationship with my grandfather, not to mention that the driver, who intended to do no harm, may be fired.”
“I’m satisfied. For the moment. But don’t allow Tuck to pull a shenanigan like this again. I’ll boot him out of here so fast, it’ll make your head spin.”
“I’m sure you will,” Crystal replied. She meant it as sarcasm, but a quick glance at Patricia told her the woman had taken it as a well-deserved compliment.
Trembling with anger, Crystal strode from the office. It took a huge effort of will not to slam the door. She needed to tell Tuck what had occurred, but she couldn’t do that until she calmed down. Instead she made a beeline for the front desk.
In a low voice, she told Marsha, “That woman is one of the cruelest people I’ve ever met.”
“She truly is.” Marsha glanced toward Patricia’s office door. “I really like this job. I’m not required to do much on the evening shift. The pay isn’t great, but I do get health care coverage. I really don’t want to quit, so instead I pray Patricia will either retire or drop over dead from heart failure.” Marsha leaned forward and whispered, “She’s skimming off the top. Stealing from these old folks. I can’t prove it, but I know that it’s happening.”
Normally Crystal would have been shocked by such a statement, but Patricia incited anger and bitterness in others. She also couldn’t discount Marsha’s claim that Patricia was embezzling funds, but that was someone else’s worry. Crystal’s only concern was her grandfather’s welfare.
“She says Tuck pushed one of the aides. Do you know if that’s true?”
Marsha rolled her eyes. “Tuck would never push a woman. That’s probably an exaggerated account of what was actually an accident. He was very upset and trying to stop the aides from taking his stuff and throwing it away.”
“Patricia says it will go on his record and make it difficult for me to place him in another facility.”
“Dear heaven. Will that woman stop at nothing?”
“I doubt it. She lied and said she wouldn’t try to get Tuck’s friend in trouble. But after I told her his name, she made me file a complaint against him. What if he loses his job?”
Marsha’s face took on a worried expression. “Oh, I hope not! It was just beer and chew, and delivered to an old man who’s been forced to quit cold turkey. It’s not easy to give up chewing tobacco. He’s probably craving it something fierce. I quit smoking ten years ago. It was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. And to this day I want to smoke sometimes.”
Crystal had never used tobacco products, so she hadn’t stopped to think of Tuck’s physical addiction to Copenhagen. Had he gone through withdrawal symptoms? Was he still suffering from them? Guilt weighed heavily on her mind. Mainly she’d thought about how difficult all of this had been for her. Getting Tuck moved. Cleaning his former residence and sprucing up the paint to get it ready for staging. Dealing with the Realtor. Getting all the paperwork signed to get the house on the market. Chasing after that crazy dog of his. Missing appointments with clients. Watching her income take a downhill slide. But all the while, Tuck had been enduring his own version of hell.
“Oh, Marsha. Is it just as hard to give up chewing tobacco as it is cigarettes?”
“Some people say it’s even harder.”
Crystal’s gaze flicked to the hallway where Tuck’s apartment was located. She felt a bit calmer now. She walked to his unit, tapped on the door, and let herself in. He still sat in his recliner. She groped for the words to tell him what had happened. She wanted to explain how Patricia had lied and then forced her to lodge a complaint. The words collected at the base of her throat like popcorn she had swallowed without chewing thoroughly. And in the end, nothing came out the way she wanted.
“You were right, Tuck. I thought I could handle the situation without getting Tanner in trouble, but I couldn’t. Patricia made me file a complaint against him.”
Her grandfather’s blue eyes went stone cold. The lines on his face deepened and suddenly seemed to be set as rigidly as expansion joints in concrete. “Get out,” he said, his voice flat. “I don’t want to look at you right now.”
Crystal’s chest constricted. “I didn’t want to do it, Tuck.”
“But you did. That’s all I need to know. Get out.”
Tuck had never spoken to her with this hard, unfeeling tone of voice. Until now. Her heart felt as if it cracked in two. Tears filled her eyes.
“Tuck, please. Just listen. She was going to evict you immediately if I didn’t do it. I have nowhere to take you. I had no choice. There was nothing else—”
He cut her off, still using that icy tone. “I could have gone to our new place here in Mystic Creek,” he said. “I could have slept on the sofa.”
“It’s a love seat, not even long enough for me.”
“I could’ve stayed there alone while you worked until you could find somebody to help me during the day. I ain’t some child that needs a sitter. Get out. I don’t want you here right now.”
“I just wanted to take care of you, Tuck. I can’t move all your stuff by myself. I need a crew of helpers. It takes time to arrange those things, and she said your furniture would have to be out of here by five tomorrow afternoon if I didn’t do what she said. She might’ve given away Grandma’s table and the bedroom set! Please, please try to understand just a little.”
She knew when she looked into his eyes that nothing she said would change his mind.
* * *
On the way home, Crystal called the salon. Nadine answered and said all the teenage girls had looked beautiful when they left. Now the techs were nearly finished cleaning up. Nadine had her own set of shop keys. She could make the final rounds and lock up for the night. There was no reason for Crystal to come back.
“So, did you save Tuck from being evicted?” Nadine asked.
Crystal’s face burned and felt puffy from crying. All she wanted was to drive home and huddle under the blankets to cry even more. “I’ll tell you about it tomorrow,” she promised. Then she ended the call.
When she got home, Rip had returned and was waiting outside the yard gate. Crystal wasn’t sure how much the final bill for the hurricane fence had been. Tuck had written the check. But she suspected it had been a huge waste of money. Rip was a determined runner, and no physical barrier would ever keep him contained.
“Where have you been all day?” Crystal cried as she exited the vehicle. “Do you know how many hours I spent looking for you? Or how worried I was? What do you do, hide behind bushes when you see my car?”
Rip’s tongue lolled from the side of his mouth, streaming drool. His silly grin told her he was completely unrepentant. He was a gorgeous dog with beautiful markings, a perfect blend of gray and white, enhanced by curry markings. He was also one of the smartest creatures she’d ever met. But his quirks and bad habits made it difficult to appreciate his finer points.
Swinging her purse strap onto her shoulder, she walked toward the gate. “I haven’t eaten since six this morning because of you.”
Rip turned to follow her, staggered, and fell over on his side. Crystal’s heart caught and her annoyance fled in a millisecond. “Rip?” She dropped her bag on the gravel and ran to the dog. “What’s wrong with you? Are you hurt?”
She squatted down to run her hands over his body. He growled and bared his teeth.
“Stop it. I know you don’t like to be touched, but get over it for once.” Rip loved other people, the only exception being anyone in uniform, whom he detested. But he’d always been cantankerous with her. “I’m really not a bad person, you know. If you gave me half a chance, you might even like me.”
She palpated each of his legs, searching for wounds or possible fractures. When she found nothing and moved on to his ribs, he snarled and bit her three times on her right forearm. “Darn it!” Crystal sat back on her haunches, which wasn’t easy in spike heels. “Look what you did!” Red marks already showed on her skin. “Tuck may call it pinching and make light of it, saying that you never draw blood, but I sure won’t. You’re mean and impossible no matter how hard I try to make you like me.”
Crystal could see nothing wrong with the dog, so she stood and fetched her purse. Lightning flashed, bathing the house and yard in white light. An instant later thunder cracked, so loud it sounded like an explosion. Then the sky split open and started spilling rain, a hard, driving deluge that instantly soaked her hair and shirt.
“Come on,” she said to Rip. “You aren’t hurt. If you want any dinner, get your ornery butt in the house.”
She threw open the gate, half-tempted to close it behind her. The dog’s main occupation seemed to be climbing over or under the fence to run away. Maybe she should have made him do the same to get back home. Only, she couldn’t quite bring herself to be that mean. He obviously wasn’t at the top of his game. Maybe he had run so hard that his legs were giving out on him.
She held the barrier open, squinting against the drops of water that pelted her face like BBs. “Come on, Rip. You can’t lie out here in this. Get up. I can’t leave you.”
It took the dog three tries to regain his feet. Then he staggered over to her and growled. Crystal realized he was demanding a biscuit for allowing her safe passage through the gate. Incredulity washed through her. “You’re kidding. When you can barely walk?”
Even as she spoke, she reached into her purse for a treat and tossed it to him. He let it drop to the ground and didn’t bother to pick it up. She stormed across the yard. “Okay, fine. Whatever.”
Rip moved across the yard in a crooked line. What on earth was wrong with him? A head injury. She hadn’t thought of that. Oh, dear God. Tuck was already furious. If his dog got hurt on her watch, he might never forgive her.
She hurried onto the porch, hoping the heeler would follow her. Only, Rip couldn’t get up the steps or the wheelchair ramp off to one side. She dropped her purse and went down to help him. That earned her two more bites, this time on her left arm.
“You nasty little monster! I hate you.”
Rip didn’t seem to care what she thought of him. And the feeling was mutual. Crystal hugged his belly to pick him up. He snapped the air and growled, but he couldn’t reach her with his teeth. Dear Lord, he was heavy. He didn’t look that big, but he was stout. Huffing and puffing, she lugged him indoors and set him on the wood floor. He braced his front legs wide apart to push upright and looked at her as if his world were spinning.
“Oh, Rip.” Leaving the door open, Crystal sank to her knees. She couldn’t see any obvious injury, but under his thick fur something might be hidden. She tried to run her fingers over his skull, and he snapped at her fingertips. “Stop it, Rip!” She grabbed his muzzle to hold his mouth closed and did a thorough palpation of his head. Nothing. “Have you been such a pest that someone threw you meat laced with poison?”
Crystal struggled erect, kicked off her heels, and hurried out onto the porch to grab her purse. Dropping into the chair by the small kitchen desk where her laptop resided, she found her cell phone just as thunder cracked overhead again. She located the number for Cassidy Peck, who worked at the Caring Hands Veterinary Clinic for Jack Palmer, the town’s only veterinarian.
“Hi, Crystal. If you’re calling to remind me of my appointment, I have it on my calendar.”
“Actually, Cassidy, I’m calling to pick your brain. I’m caring for my grandfather’s dog, and he’s acting weird.” Crystal told the younger woman what had happened. “After-hours trips to the vet are expensive. I’ll take him in if it’s necessary. But I’m hoping to avoid it if I can.”
“Of course you are, and I shouldn’t make any diagnosis. But friend to friend, I can say it doesn’t sound like he’s been poisoned.” She listed the symptoms.
“No,” Crystal agreed, “I’m not seeing any of those things.”
“And since there are no visible signs of injury, it could be something else. Exhaustion, possibly, especially if he was at large all day and had no water. Another possibility is that he’s fearful of thunder and lightning. A lot of dogs are, and they can grow so frightened they have mild seizures. Sometimes they can’t walk until it passes. They drool. Run into walls. It’s scary but normally not fatal.”
Crystal heard another rumble. “He didn’t seem afraid. And the thunderstorm just started.”
“Not on our side of town. You said he was gone. Maybe where he was, it had already started. And sometimes it’s hard to tell if dogs are frightened. What I would do is give him a small amount of food and a big bowl of fresh water. Then keep a close eye on him. If he gets worse, take him to see Jack. He lives right beside the clinic. Chances are good that Rip will start to get better, though.”
Crystal thanked Cassidy for the advice and ended the call. Then she turned on the chair to look at the dog, who had made it to his bed and now sprawled on it, belly up, with all four legs dangling outward from his body.
“You have none of the symptoms Cassidy described, and if you’re frightened by the storm, you have an odd way of showing it.” Bewildered and worn-out, she slumped against the back of the chair and shivered herself. She was soaked to the skin. Her long hair, which had started to curl from being wet, hung over her breasts li
ke the strands of a dripping mop. “So what is wrong with you, Rip?”
Rip was snoring and offered no explanation. Studying him, Crystal decided he was probably suffering from nothing more than exhaustion. He’d been gone for hours, and there was no way of knowing how far his adventures had taken him. He’d probably be fine after a long rest. She’d set her alarm to check on him during the night, and if he got worse, she’d call Jack.
Rain. She heard it hammering on the metal roof. Staggering a little herself, she went to close the front door. Utter exhaustion definitely compromised one’s sense of balance. Hunger gnawed at her belly, and she realized she felt weak. Had she had enough water herself today? Probably not. She rinsed out Rip’s dishes, refilled them, and set them near his bed.
“Rip? I brought you food and water.”
The dog groaned and limply flapped his front paws. She sighed and went in search of something to eat herself. Cooking anything right then loomed as a herculean task. She settled for breakfast cereal—healthy whole-grain flakes that she drowned in sugar and milk, negating any healthful benefit they could possibly offer. After devouring two bowls, she made toast, slathered it with butter, and ate it sitting at Tuck’s mahogany dinner table. She still wanted to cry, but she was afraid if she gave in to the impulse it would be hours before she could stop.
She’d grabbed a napkin before sitting down. Pink spots had appeared on the white rectangle of paper. Bewildered, she felt her hair, and her fingers came away with the same color on them. The spray-on streaks. In the pouring rain, the color had gone watery. She looked down at her ecru silk blouse. Spotted with pink. She examined the beautiful barnwood floor. Spotted with pink. She’d have to mop before she went to bed. She couldn’t let Tuck’s floor get stained. Could anything else go wrong today?