Molly Fitz - Chihuahua Conspiracy (Pet Whisperer P.I. Book 6)

“Really. And it’s a girl, so say she. That’s the polite thing to do.” Paisley followed up her answer by nudging my leg with her cold nose. “Hey, Mommy. Say something to our friends!”

I coughed and widened my eyes at Paisley, giving my head a subtle shake that I sincerely hoped she would understand. She was still very new to our home and didn’t yet seem to understand that I couldn’t exactly out my ability in front of unknown humans. I’d have to explain how everything worked once the two of us had some privacy. Hopefully, she wouldn’t be too embarrassed by my unexpected unwillingness to perform my neat human trick for the other shelter dogs.

“Here we are,” our guide said brightly, rescuing me from that disappointed look on my sweet doggo’s face. “You’ll find Mr. Leavitt straight through that door.”

“Thank you,” I said, reaching out to shake the woman’s hand.

“My name’s Pearl,” she offered with a friendly smile. “And it’s my pleasure to assist. I’ll be just up front, should you have any questions for me before you go. Good luck!”

I watched Pearl zoom away, somewhat confused by the fact that she’d wished me good luck. Didn’t places like this always need a steady stream of volunteers?

The dogs behind us began to bark in earnest. I tried to understand what they were saying, but too many voices mixed together for me to make out any single thread. Suddenly, I felt very anxious as I raised my fist to knock on the office door before me.

“Come in,” someone—presumably Mr. Leavitt—called.

I scooped Paisley into my arms, then pushed the door open. At the same exact time, the fluorescent lights overhead flickered on, off, on, and then at last off again. The long room filled with kennels fell completely dark and silent, but the small office before me had a steady stream of sunlight wafting in from the large row of windows along the back wall.

“Hello,” I said shyly. “If this is a bad time, I can come back later.”

The man behind the desk glanced up at me with a welcoming grin. Shockingly, he appeared to be about my age—late twenties, maybe early thirties. For some reason, I’d expected someone far older. Maybe it was the fact that the gray-haired woman I’d just met had chosen to refer to him as a Mr.

He stood and extended a hand in my direction. “You mean the lights? Nah, that happens all the time. Come on in all the way, take a seat, and tell me what I can do for you.” His blue eyes shone as our hands made contact, and I swear I felt a tiny spark jump from his skin to mine.

I didn’t find Mr. Leavitt particularly attractive, but there was something about him that was inescapably alluring. If this whole Community Outreach Coordinator gig fell through, I’m sure he’d have a long and prosperous career in Hollywood, D.C., or even the boardroom. He’d fit in easily anywhere charisma was valued and rewarded.

“I know this guy,” Paisley said from atop my lap after I’d taken a moment to get settled in one of the padded chairs opposite Mr. Leavitt’s desk. “He’d play with us sometimes. And he brought lots of people by to visit. Sometimes they would play with us, too.”

I patted the dog’s head instead of answering her directly. Keeping my hand there, I directed my attention back toward the only other human in the room. “As you can see, my Nan and I adopted this sweet little girl from your shelter. And, well, we’re just so happy to have her that I wanted to pay it forward somewhere.”

Mr. Leavitt nodded and folded his hands on the desk before him. “Pay it forward? How so?”

“Could you use any volunteers? I kind of have a way with animals.” Of course that was the understatement of the year, but there was no way I was telling this guy the truth about my hidden abilities.

“That’s very kind of you, Miss…?” He paused and flashed me a disarming grin.

“Russo,” I offered, hating that heat was now rising to my cheeks. “Angie Russo. Hi.”

He winked and leaned back in his chair, putting me at ease once more. “As I was saying, that’s very kind of you for wanting to help. You probably noticed we’re a bit overcrowded at the moment.”

I nodded again. “Yes, that’s why I thought I could help.”

The lights flickered again, illuminating a small lamp on the edge of Mr. Leavitt’s desk. He studied it for a moment, then frowned thoughtfully. “We’re just as overcrowded with volunteers as we are animals. But I’m afraid it may not be enough.”

My heart dropped straight onto the linoleum floor beneath my chair. “Is everything okay?” I whispered, wishing the sensitive little dog in my lap didn’t have to be here for whatever came next in our conversation.

Mr. Leavitt offered an even wider smile than before. “Of course, everything’s okay. At least it is for now. Just a bit of growing pains, if you will. You see, at present, we have more animals and more staff, but not more money. It makes covering all our expenses a bit tricky, but we’ll manage. We always do.”

Was I actually being dismissed? Had Mr. Leavitt somehow decided that my help wasn’t good enough? That rankled me and suddenly made me desperate to contribute in any way I could.

“That’s good to hear, but still I’d like to do something,” I argued, giving him my best, most placating smile. “Would a donation be better than volunteering right now?”

He shook his head and let out a low sigh. “Oh, no, no, no. You don’t have to do that. I wasn’t trying to suggest—”

I chuckled as I fished around in my purse for my checkbook. Mr. Leavitt was obviously a proud man, but this was a community shelter, and I was part of said community. I owed it to the animals to make sure they had enough to eat, drink, and keep a roof over their heads. “I know you weren’t, but I’m already here anyway and I want to help,” I said with a shrug.

“Well, if you insist, then it would be wrong of me to say no. Thank you so much for being willing to help these wonderful animals.”

Mr. Leavitt told me the information I needed to fill out my check and then accepted it with an outpouring of gratitude. “You’re a good woman, Angie Russo. I can tell this little one is very lucky to have landed a place in your home,” he said, scratching the mostly black Chihuahua in the center of her forehead.

And for once I didn’t argue. Paisley was lucky to have us. I knew that better than ever now that I’d seen the alternative. Now, if only there was something more I could do to help the others who hadn’t yet found their forever homes…

Chapter Five

After writing out the check for my donation, Mr. Leavitt showed me around the shelter and detailed how my gift would help the residents there. I left that afternoon about a thousand dollars lighter and feeling fantastic about it.

It was nice to use my money for something good. Not that it wasn’t great to keep Octo-Cat stocked on all the specialty water, gourmet cat food, and new Apple technology his little kitty heart desired, but this time I was helping dozens of animals in need rather than catering to the spoiled whims of a single pampered pet.

I couldn’t stop smiling the whole way home.

During that drive, Paisley and I also had a little talk about what I could and could not do in front of other people.

“So you can’t talk to animals when other humans are around?” the Chihuahua summed up from her precarious perch on the passenger seat.

“Bingo,” I sang with a huge smile of confirmation, then added, “Unless, of course, it’s Nan, Charles, or someone else we’re close to. Got it?”

“Got it,” she barked, taking a quick moment to stare at me in admiration before putting her front paws up on the windowsill and basking in the fresh breeze blowing through our tiny vehicle.