Part 3
He left a message, including the number they already had, and nearly caught his boot on a root while putting the phone away.
“Toby!”
The snow was too thin and broken by fallen leaves to give him a reliable trail. He bent to examine a flattened fern, then checked beneath a downed branch. Along the drainage ditch, he called again and waited with his mouth open, listening.
A puppy could get beneath brush Grant had to go around. He could follow a squirrel away from the lights. White fur would be hard to pick out against the snowy shoulder of the road.
Grant reached the service lane and looked in both directions before crossing. His coat hung open. He fumbled with the zipper as he hurried toward the employee door.
It opened before he reached it.
“He’s here,” Audrey Beck said.
Grant stopped so abruptly that she stepped back.
“I got in just before six. He was sitting outside. Soon as I opened up, he made straight for the medical hall.”
Grant went past her.
Toby lay against Piper’s gate, dried mud stiffening the fur beneath his chest. One front foot rested at the wire. Piper had worked her paw through an opening and was licking at the scraped toes whenever he brought them near.
Grant knelt and put the slip lead over Toby’s head. His fingers needed a second attempt to find the sliding ring.
He had planned several things to say on the walk over. None survived the sight of the puppy leaning into his leg.
“You scared me, kid.”
Toby pressed closer without withdrawing his paw from his sister.
Grant checked both front feet. Then he sat against the wall opposite the kennel. Audrey handed him a towel and went to call Tessa.
Tessa arrived carrying the intake folder. She looked at the pair by the gate, then at Grant’s muddy boots.
“Come see something when you’re ready.”
In the office, she spread the photographs beneath the desk lamp and called Wade Sutton, the animal control officer who had found them.
Grant knew Wade from county calls. He was patient with frightened animals and didn’t use three sentences where one would do.
On speaker, Wade interrupted Tessa’s description of the carrier.
“Got them. I remember.”
Grant pulled a photograph closer. He hadn’t seen the carrier before. Its rear corner had split, leaving a narrow blade of plastic beside the place Piper had been lying. The cardboard lining was shredded, and scraps of fabric were wedged into the break.
“The damage to his nails,” Tessa said. “We assumed he’d been working at the door.”
“Other end,” Wade told her. “That’s why I photographed it before we touched anything. Wind was blowing through that corner.”
Tessa turned another picture so Grant could see the scoring. Then she told Wade about the blanket Toby had worked beneath the kennel divider.
Grant studied the material packed beside Piper’s body. No one had seen the white puppy arranging it. He might have been dragging bedding toward her rather than deliberately stopping a draft. But the cloth and cardboard had ended up between her and the open corner.
Grant remembered the ragged nails beneath the fresh scrape he had just cleaned.
Tessa found a line in the report noting food caught in the lining beside Piper. She described the chicken Toby had taken back to the kennel during the adoption visit.
“He was in better shape than she was,” Grant said. “When I met them.”
“You didn’t see him out there,” Wade replied. “He could hardly stay on his feet.”
Tessa’s hand stopped on the page.
“We reached for her first. That leg needed attention. But every time we lifted her, she twisted back toward him. We didn’t want to make the wound worse, so we set her down.”
Grant looked again at the dark shape in the photograph.
“Went right back,” Wade said. “Dragged herself over the bedding to get to him. Tried lifting her a second time and got the same result.”
“How did you move them?” Tessa asked.
“Together. One trip.”
Beyond the office glass, Toby’s white back was visible beside the medical kennel. Grant kept his fingertips on the photograph while Tessa thanked Wade and ended the call.
When she began collecting the pictures, he let go of the corner he had been holding.
He returned to the hall and sat with one boot within Toby’s reach. Lydia checked the paw again. Grant waited until she was satisfied before taking him home.
The first thing he did was secure the dog door shut.
Then he reinforced the fence along the strip beneath the porch and examined the rest from a crouch, looking under each section instead of down at it. Toby stayed on a leash beside him, investigating every clod Grant turned over.
Boone’s lead still lay on the rail. Grant brought it inside, wiped the moisture from the leather, and returned it to the storage box.
The rubber ball stayed beside Toby’s bed.
They visited Piper the next day, and again the day after that. Grant allowed time at the gate before each departure. Tessa would bring Piper close, and he would wait for her to settle before asking Toby to leave.
Piper sometimes rested against his shin while he stood there. Toby took those opportunities to search his coat for the glove.
On the third afternoon, an electrician was still working beyond the closed doors. Grant could hear a drill starting and stopping as Tessa approached with her clipboard.
“I can’t give you his run back yet,” she said. “I’m sorry.”
He looked toward the office. The foster list was in there, along with all the unanswered messages and the people who had already said they couldn’t take another dog.
At home, he had begun checking beneath the chair before pushing it away from the table. His socks now went into a hamper with a lid. He had caught himself buying enough chicken for leftovers.
“I’ll make another round of calls,” Tessa said.
Toby had gone to sleep beside the gate. Piper lay on the other side, their noses separated by a few inches and a strand of wire.
Grant looked up at Tessa.
“What’s the new deadline?”
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