Софи Райан - Two Tall Tails

My chest tightened. “What happened?” I said, bending down next to the old man.

He looked up at me, his face ashen. “I don’t know. I was just throwing the ball for her. She was bringing it back to me when she suddenly stopped. She took another step and then she just fell over and started shaking.”

I put a hand on his back. “I’m going to get the car and we’ll take her to the vet.”

Rose was behind me. “What happened?” she whispered.

I gave my head a little shake. “I don’t know.”

Rose dipped her head in the direction of my SUV. “Go,” she said. “I’ll stay here.”

I ran back to the house, grabbed my purse and keys and hurried back out to the SUV. I pulled into Tom’s driveway and grabbed the blanket I kept on the backseat. “Here,” I said to Rose. “Wrap her in this.”

Rose swaddled Matilda in the blanket and I helped Tom get to his feet. The corgi’s eyes were open and she wasn’t seizing anymore but she seemed lethargic and disoriented.

Rose was still holding the little dog. Tom put one hand on the blanket and they moved toward the car.

“Matilda may be little but she has a big heart,” Rose told the old man.

Elvis had followed us over to Tom’s yard. He made his way to the knobby red ball Matilda had been chasing and craned his neck to sniff at it. Then he made a face and turned to look at me.

“I’m sorry. I have to go,” I said.

Elvis gave the ball a nudge in my direction, meowed loudly and looked at me again. There was something about that ball he wanted me to see. I hesitated and then pulled a nylon shopping bag from my purse, picked up the ball carefully between my thumb and index finger and dropped it in the bag. That seemed to satisfy the cat.

Rose was just reaching around Tom to fasten his seatbelt. Matilda was on his lap, wrapped in the blanket. I pulled a key off my key ring and held it out to Rose. It was Tom’s spare that I kept in case of an emergency, which this definitely was. “Would you lock up Tom’s house, please?”

Rose took the key, turning it over in her fingers. Of course, dear,” she said. “I hope Matilda will be all right.” She pressed her lips together.

I nodded. “Me too.” I slid behind the wheel, started the car and backed out of the driveway. Beside me Tom was talking softly to the little dog. As we drove by Angie’s house, I noticed Jason watching from the living room window.

When we got to the animal hospital, Tom and Matilda were taken to an examining room right away. I dropped into a chair and took several slow, deeps breaths. Rose was right. Matilda might have been a little dog but she did have a huge heart.

I’d been sitting there for maybe five minutes, watching the door, hoping Tom or someone would come out and tell me what was going on, when Dr. Davenport came in from outside. She was dressed in jeans and a chambray shirt, which probably meant that this was her farm visit day. She smiled when she caught sight of me.

“Sarah, hi. What are you doing here?” she asked. Abby Davenport had been Elvis’s veterinarian from the day Sam conned me into taking the cat. I got to my feet and gave Abby a hug. “My neighbor’s dog, a corgi, had what I think was a seizure. I drove them over.”

Abby gave me a reassuring smile. “Ben’s working today. Your neighbor’s dog is in good hands. I promise.”

I reached for my purse on the chair behind me. I didn’t stop to decide whether or not what I was about to do was a good idea or not. “Abby, I may just be way too suspicious, but I think it’s possible someone may have put something toxic on Matilda’s ball. She was playing with it right before she got sick.” I pulled the nylon shopping bag out of my purse and held it out.

“This is it?” the vet asked.

I nodded.

Abby opened the bag. The sharp chemical odor on the knobby plastic ball was impossible to miss.

The veterinarian’s eyes narrowed. “May I take this?” she asked.

I nodded. “Yes.”

“I’ll see what I can find out.” Abby gave me a reassuring smile and headed for her office.

Tom came out to the waiting room about twenty minutes later. Relief had smoothed out the lines on his face. “She’s going to be okay,” he said.

I smiled at him, the good news making my legs feel wobbly for a moment.

“Dr. Kessler thinks she ate or drank something that made her sick, but he can’t say what at the moment.” Tom ran a mottled hand through his hair. “Matilda has to stay the night but she should be able to come home tomorrow.” He smiled at me. “I don’t know what we would have done if you hadn’t been there.”

“I’m so glad everything is all right,” I said, giving him a hug. The metallic chemical scent from the red ball had seemed to linger in the back of my throat, and along with it was the feeling that things weren’t going to stay all right for long.

Tom was quiet on the drive home. “It’s my fault,” he finally said.

I knew he meant what had happened to Matilda. “You said the vet didn’t know what made her sick.” I glanced over at him in the passenger seat. His expression was grave, and he was picking at one of the buttons on his yellow golf shirt. “I don’t think you did anything.”

“I let her have some of my Chinese takeout for lunch—duck with orange sauce. All that fat and MSG can’t have been good for her.”

“Don’t blame yourself for something that might not be your fault,” I said gently. I thought again about the ball I’d given to Abby Davenport. There would be lots of time to tell Tom about it once we knew if there was anything to tell.

Rose was sweeping the front steps when we got home, a make-work job, I suspected, so she could keep an eye on the street. We pulled into Tom’s driveway and Rose walked over to join us. “How’s Matilda?” she asked, concern evident in the lines around her mouth and eyes.

“She’s going to be fine,” I said, taking back the spare key that Rose held out to me. “They’re keeping her overnight just to be safe, but Tom can bring her home tomorrow.”

A smile spread across Rose’s face, and the tension in her body seemed to sink down into the ground as her body relaxed. “Oh, I’m so glad to hear that.”

“Thank you for locking up for me,” Tom said, giving her a tired smile.

“That’s was nothing,” she said. “I have bread pudding in the oven.” She glanced back at the house. “I’ll bring some over in about half an hour.”

“You didn’t have to do that,” Tom said, “but I confess I’m glad you did.” He turned to me and caught my good hand in both of his own. “Thank you so much, Sarah.”

“Anytime,” I said. Tom headed for his front door, and Rose and I started toward our place.

Rose looked back over her shoulder in the direction of Angie’s house. Her body tensed again, her shoulders hunching forward. “He did something,” she said, lowering her voice.

I knew she meant Jason. “Why do you say that?” I asked.

She folded an arm over her midsection. “He came outside right after you left. When he saw me standing at the bottom of Tom’s driveway, he walked over to me. I don’t think he realized that I already knew what was going on.” She took a breath and let it out slowly. “He said Matilda ate something and was dead.” She glanced back again before returning her eyes to meet mine again. “Why on earth would he say that unless he knew something—unless he’d done something? I think we should investigate.”

My stomach clenched. We meant The Angels, aka Charlotte’s Angels, the detective agency Rose, Liz, their friend Charlotte and Rose’s gentleman friend, Mr. P., had started after their friend Maddie Hamilton had been accused of murder. We also included me, because no matter how hard I tried to stay out of their cases, somehow I always managed to get pulled in.