Carolyn McSparren - Over His Head

“Will he be all right?”

“No idea, but I think so. He’s going to need care. He’s probably eating on his own, but his mother may still suckle him as well. Did you find any others like this?”

Eddy shook his head.

Nancy shuddered. Please God let’s hope this was the only victim. The mother and other pups might not have been so lucky. “Where’d you find him? And what are you doing up so early anyway?” She slipped her hands under the pup, towel and all. “Go into my bathroom. Linen closet’s the little door on the left. Bring me a couple of towels. We’ll make him a bed.”

Eddy didn’t ask questions. He stiffened for a moment when he spotted Lancelot, and edged warily around his bed, but he got the towels. Together they settled the pup on top of a folded blue bath towel, and covered him with another to keep him warm.

“Ever nurse a puppy?”

Eddy shook his head.

“Then it’s time you learned.” She fetched one of the small nursing bottles and a box of dry puppy milk formula from her case, mixed up the formula with warm water and put the nipple on. She handed the bottle to the child, who immediately hunkered down beside the pup.

“Snuggle him in your lap, towel and all.”

Eddy did as he was told, and within seconds the puppy was suckling contentedly.

She was certain Lancelot would intrude the moment he smelled the milk. Amazingly he seemed to understand that this was one time he shouldn’t. He didn’t take his eyes off Eddy, but he stayed in his bed and confined his comments to the occasional snuffle.

She sat on the floor beside the boy. “Now, where’d you find him? Do you know who did this?”

He shook his head. “I went out in the yard. You fix animals, so I brought him.”

He must have been outside while she’d been trying to spring Lancelot from Tim’s bed. She wondered how he planned to get back into the house. The back door locked automatically when it was on the latch as she had left it. He probably hadn’t thought that far ahead.

The Halliburtons’ yard—she had to stop thinking of it as the Halliburtons’—was surrounded by thick woods that went down to the lake. Hers, across the lane, had a ten-acre pasture behind it with an old barn. The rest of the fifty acres she owned was covered in equally dense woods.

The nearest house directly behind Eddy’s was probably a couple of miles south of the village on the side road. She’d have to go over to those woods to see if she could find any other wounded animals and the scene of the crime, because it was a crime. She’d call Mike O’Hara, the sheriff, and notify him they had a mutilator in the neighborhood. He could alert the rest of the community.

“Do you know what happened to it?”

Eddy looked up at her. “Why would somebody burn it?”

She had to admit the possibility that he’d done it himself, then become frightened of what he’d done and tried to save the animal.

Nancy didn’t think so though. She’d seen kids and adults who mutilated animals for what they considered fun. They felt nothing except annoyance that they’d been caught. Animal cruelty was one of the first symptoms of a psychopathic personality—a Ted Bundy in the making. She couldn’t remember the other symptoms—that spelled trouble.

That Wainwright guy ought to know. “Eddy, do you know if either Jason or Angie went out of the house last night?”

His head jerked up. “They like animals.”

Smart kid. Knew precisely why she was asking.

“Angie’s horse-crazy. Jason even liked the sheep.”

Nancy had no idea what sheep, but for the moment, at least, she respected Eddy’s take on his siblings.

“He’s finished,” Eddy said. “See?” He held the empty bottle up.

“Okay, rub his tummy until he piddles and poops.” She reached under the sink for a new roll of paper towels, took a couple and handed them to Eddy.

He didn’t hesitate. He simply set to work until the pup had evacuated satisfactorily. Nancy took the neatly folded paper towels from him. They’d go outside in the trash.

“Do you have any idea who he belongs to?” she asked. Stupid question. If she didn’t recognize the pup or its parents after six years in the neighborhood, he couldn’t be expected to know after one night.

Eddy shook his head and laid the sleeping pup and his nest back into the corner.

“That presents a problem. If I take him to the clinic, it costs money, and I suspect he’s a stray.”

“Can’t he stay here? I’ll look after him.”

She knew absolutely, positively that she shouldn’t even consider agreeing. “At his age he needs to be fed every four to six hours, and his bandage changed morning and night. We’ll get him onto puppy food soaked in milk, and after he starts getting better he’ll need to go outside to the bathroom.”

“School doesn’t start for a while,” Eddy said with what passed for enthusiasm with this child. “I can do it.”

“I’m sure your father won’t want you spending all your time looking after the pup.”

“Sure he will.” Then he ducked his head and all enthusiasm vanished. “He said we couldn’t have a dog yet. I could keep him here.” He stroked the pup’s head. “And I can pay you. My Gran’mere will send me some money if I ask her.”

When he looked up at her, she wondered how she could ever have thought he was expressionless. Such longing, such sadness, such hope! What had happened to this child to make him close down? She’d have to find out. And if that Wainwright fellow had anything to do with it, she’d see him rot in hell.

As if in answer to her summons, the doorbell rang again. Eddy jumped. “That’s my daddy,” he whispered.

“Stay here.”

“Do we have to tell him?”

“Don’t worry, Eddy, I’ll handle it.”

When she opened her front door, Wainwright stepped in without asking. “Have you seen my son? I can’t find him.”

“He’s here,” she said, and turned back to the kitchen.

“Eddy,” Tim rushed past her.

Eddy hunched over the puppy’s nest.

Tim squatted beside his son. “Eddy, don’t you ever do that again, you hear me?” Then he hugged the boy.

If he was an abuser, he was good at concealing it. Nancy saw tears in his eyes.

He held Eddy at arm’s length. “Son, you’re filthy. And no shoes. Where’ve you been?”

“I went out. I thought I’d be back before you woke up.” Then, as if realizing he’d actually spoken more than a few words at a time, he seemed to shrink into himself. “I’m sorry.”

She saw Tim gulp convulsively.

“It’s okay, son. It’s good that you wanted to go out and explore. Just don’t go out alone again without telling me. Even if I’m still in bed, I’ll get up and go with you. Maybe we’ll all go. We definitely need to explore our land, but this is the country. There’s a whole bunch of new stuff you’re not used to—snakes and fast trucks and woods and streams. You could have gotten lost.” He drew back and glanced over his shoulder. “And what are you doing over here bothering Miss Mayfield?”

No mention of their previous meeting. Thank God he chose to ignore it.

Eddy looked down at the nest. The only visible portion of the pup was an inch of charred brown ear.

“How about I make some coffee,” Nancy said. “I’ve also got OJ and a coffee cake. Sit down and let Eddy tell you about it. He’s a real hero.”

Eddy gave her a grateful look. She winked at him. Whether Tim Wainwright liked it or not, his son had a dog. If she had anything to say about it, he’d keep it.

TIM SIPPED HIS COFFEE and watched with wonder as his son wolfed down his third piece of coffee cake. He was on his second glass of orange juice, as well. In the past year, Eddy had grown thinner and thinner. Tim gave him vitamins, made certain his mother-in-law kept the house filled with fruit and lunch meat as well as pastry and tried to believe the doctors who told him his son was perfectly healthy. Physically, maybe he was.