Charlie Grace grabbed her jacket. “Let me show you to the pups. They’re in the barn.”
Lila gave her arm a reassuring squeeze as they passed. “You’re doing the right thing.”
Charlie Grace swallowed hard and motioned for the officers to follow.
Officer Grant adjusted his cap against the morning sun. “Pretty place you’ve got here.”
Charlie Grace gave a nod, arms crossed against the chill. “Thank you. It’s been in the family a long time.”
Officer Hernandez glanced toward the distant tree line. “That where your daughter found them?”
Charlie pointed with her chin. “Just beyond that fence line, near the creek. She and my Aunt Mo thought they were abandoned. Brought them home.”
Grant gave a small, understanding smile. “Happens more than you’d think. Most folks don’t have a vet friend on hand to break the news. They discover much later when the pups start acting more wild than domestic—and by then, it’s a whole lot harder to undo. We’ve seen cases where they get aggressive, start hunting livestock, or even bite people. That’s when the calls come in, and sadly, it doesn’t always end well for the animal.”
Charlie managed a small laugh. “Lila didn’t sugarcoat anything; I’ll give her that.”
Hernandez chuckled. “She never does.”
They reached the barn. Charlie paused at the door. “My daughter is up in her room. Heartbroken.”
Grant’s tone softened. “We’ll keep that in mind.”
Inside, the pups stirred in the crate, one of them letting out a high-pitched whimper. The others were huddled together in the worn quilt Jewel had insisted on using, their tiny sides rising and falling in rhythm.
The officers knelt beside the crate, inspecting the pups with gentle hands and quiet voices. Officer Grant glanced at Lila. “So, these are the six? All taken in within the last four days?”
Lila nodded. “Yes. The pups were kept here in the barn.”
Charlie Grace stepped forward. “We honestly thought they were just…lost puppies. Jewel made a little nest back by the grain bags. She’s been feeding them and sleeping beside them every night.”
“She’s eight?” Hernandez asked, eyes softening.
Charlie Grace nodded. “And she’s taking all this very hard.”
Grant stood and removed a small tablet from his vest. “I’ll need to take a brief statement. Just confirming what Lila told us.”
Charlie Grace recounted everything—how Jewel had found them, how they looked like strays, the vet check, the realization they were wolves. As she spoke, the officers listened carefully, never making her feel blamed or foolish.
“Well, that should do it,” Grant said, clicking off the screen. “You did right by calling us. Most folks don’t.”
Hernandez reached for the crate. “We’ll load them carefully and get them to the Jackson rehab center.”
Charlie Grace watched as the officers lifted the crate and carried it out. Lila and Charlie Grace trailed behind.
They set the crate down, and Officer Hernandez pulled a large set of keys from her pants pocket.
Charlie Grace’s gaze drifted upward, past the crate and toward the upstairs window of the house. A pale curtain fluttered slightly.
She blinked. Then looked again.
Jewel’s small face was barely visible behind the lace curtain, eyes wide, mouth drawn tight.
“Wait,” Charlie Grace said, holding up a hand. “Can you give me a minute?”
Officer Grant nodded. “Of course.”
She raced inside and took the stairs two at a time, pausing just outside her daughter’s door. Her knuckles hovered above the wood.
