Page 54 of The Deadly Shallows

She pushed off the counter. “I’ll see you around seven-thirty tomorrow morning?”

“Yeah.” He shook himself out of what felt like a dream. Not in the rainbows and unicorns way, but as if he’d been lost in the moment, and the jerk back to reality was startling. One moment she was in his arms, the next he was stepping onto her front porch.

“Thanks for stopping by the vet,” she said.

“Happy to help. Noah insisted I take tomorrow off”—suddenly following Noah’s command didn’t seem so bad—“so my day is yours.” He turned, but when the door squeaked behind him, he spun around before she’d fully shut it. “If . . .”

“Yes?” Her brow furrowed.

“If you need anything between now and then, my phone’s always on.”

“The life of a special agent,” she said.

“’Night,” he said, turning toward his car. Yes, it was the life of a special agent, but that wasn’t why he’d said it.

TWENTY-EIGHT

Caleb’s tires crunched across the gravel lot as the sun crested the horizon. He pulled parallel to the only other vehicle present—a sky-blue Nissan Pathfinder. Early ’90s model, he was betting. He glanced over his shoulder at the one-story brick building. A series of lights shone inside.

His hands balled into fists. He hadn’t been in a vet’s office since . . .

He swallowed. Since his mom made the decision she no longer wanted to be saddled with the responsibility of a dog after the divorce. The fact that Skipper was his dog and that he took care of him made no nevermind to her.

When they’d left the house that morning, he’d had no idea where they were headed. His mom saying he could bring Skipper for the ride should have sent red flags waving, but he was six. What did he know?

He took a stiff inhale, his jaw clenching. Standing there, watching the vet give Skipper a shot, then realizing what she’d done, had changed him. He’d tried to rouse his dog, his best friend, but it was useless. He couldn’t rouse Skipper no matter how hard he shook him, screamed his name . . . cried.

He had hated his mom that day. Hated her for years until he’d accepted Christ as his Savior. But to this day, he kept her and her string of divorces and loser boyfriends as far away as possible.

He clenched his jaw as he stepped from his new Forester SUV and moved for the front door. A giant white paw print sat in the center of a large blue circle. Happy Paws Veterinarian Clinic curved along the top, and Lucy Chang DVM curved along the bottom. He was definitely in the right place.

Climbing the handful of concrete steps, he did as the Come On In sign said.

“I’ll be right with you,” a woman yelled from the back, nearly drowning out the sound of the bell twanging over the still-open door. Turning, he grabbed the door handle. A strong swoop of wind fought against his hold, trying to yank the door with it, but he won out. The door finally shut, he raked a hand through his windblown hair and moved for one of the lobby chairs.

A tan mop of a dog scampered toward him, his fluffy tail wagging furiously. He stopped in front of Caleb and sat, his breath warming Caleb’s shin through his jeans. The dog’s thick tail swished back and forth across the linoleum floor. His big eyes looked up with hope until Caleb caved, bending to pet the pup’s back.

A petite lady, no taller than four-eleven, with dark hair and wearing lavender scrubs with colorful paw prints scattered about them, stepped around the corner. “I see you’ve met Jaxon,” she said.

“Yeah,” he said, still petting the mop, surprised at how good it felt to love on an animal again.

“Better be careful.” She smiled. “He will steal your heart.” Her white vet coat hit halfway down her thighs. Lucy was scrolled in bright purple above the right-side pocket. “You must be Caleb.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said, standing.

“I appreciate the formality, but not having hit thirty yet, I prefer Lucy. Or if you’re wired to be formal, which I’m betting you are”—she gestured for him to follow her toward the exam room hall—“Doctor will work just fine.”

“Doctor it is.” He smiled.

Paw steps pattered behind them, and he turned to find the mop following, his tail still wagging.

Lucy smiled over her shoulder. “He likes you.”

“He seems like a friendly dog. I’m sure he likes everyone who comes in.”

“Actually, no. He’s usually extremely shy with anyone other than me.”

Caleb frowned, unsure what to do with that.