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I circled the lot twice, hunting for an opening that didn't exist. Every spot was taken, including the ones that weren't technically spots but patches of grass where desperate pet owners had squeezed their vehicles.
“Graham, you can just drop me off at the front door.”
“Not happening. No way in hell I'm leaving you alone with all these strangers milling around.” I swung the truck around again and found a place out in back of the clinic, where others had already parked. I just parked behind them. It wasn’t a place that would normally be allowed by Roxie, but I joined the circus.
“It's just pet owners getting their animals vaccinated.”
“It's a crowd of people we don't know, and your stalker could be hiding in plain sight. I'm staying at the clinic today.”
Joy's eyebrows shot up. “But Graham. I know what he looks like.”
“He could have shaved his head and grown a beard for all we know. Nope, it’s not a risk I’m willing to take.”
“But all day? Graham, you'll be bored out of your mind.”
“I'll find something to do.”
The walk to the clinic took longer than I'd expected, weaving through the crowd of pet owners who were now forming an impromptu line down the sidewalk. Joy waved at several people she recognized, her natural warmth drawing smiles despite the early morning chaos.
“Joy!” Ava's voice carried over the noise as we reached the front door. “Thank God you're here. We're drowning.”
Roxie appeared behind her, clipboard in hand and stress written across her face. “I didn't expect this many people. The free vaccination program has been more popular than we anticipated.”
“What can I do to help?” Joy immediately slipped into work mode.
“Get checked in and grab a smock. We need all hands on deck.” Roxie's gaze shifted to me. “Graham, you're welcome to wait in the break room, but it might be a while.”
“I'll stay close to Joy.”
Three hours later, I understood why people said veterinary medicine wasn't for the faint of heart. I'd somehow been drafted into crowd control, herding anxious pet owners through the clinic like some kind of crossing guard.
“Sir?” A trembling voice caught my attention. “Could you help me?”
I turned to find a woman who had to be pushing ninety, clutching a cat carrier that looked ready to fall apart. The ancient orange tabby inside was making sounds that suggested it had given up on life sometime four Christmases ago. This didn’t look good.
“What do you need, ma'am?”
“Whiskers weighs twenty-two pounds, and I can't lift him onto the exam table.” She patted the carrier with arthritic hands. “He's been my companion for nineteen years.”
“Let me get that for you.”
I hefted the carrier, surprised by the weight. The cat inside fixed me with an angry yellow stare that clearly communicated his opinion of this entire situation.
“He doesn't like strangers,” she warned as I set the carrier on the exam table.
“That makes two of us,” I muttered.
She laughed, a surprisingly robust sound. “You're Joy's young man, aren't you? She talks about you when she checks on Whiskers during his overnight stays.”
“She does?”
“Yes. You're a good boy. I can tell by how you handle animals.” She opened the carrier door with practiced ease. “Whiskers, come meet Graham.”
The cat emerged, then promptly flopped onto his side with a wheeze.
“Is he okay?”
“Oh, he's fine. He's just dramatic. Whiskers, show the nice man your belly.”
