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“No, no, no.” This could not be happening. Bernie moved to the next box and repeated, “Son of a bitch.”
As Bernie continued to the next box, Gerard leaped onto the trailer and looked down into the cardboard container to see what she had seen.
The watermelons they’d stacked so carefully had been smashed into a wet, terrible mess.
“Are they all like this?” he asked.
Bernie glanced up for the last box, her face pale, her mouth pressed into a thin line. “All of them.” She shook her head. “I don’t understand. Who would do such a thing? And how did we not hear it happening?”
They had been in the shower and then the bedroom, where the air conditioning unit had been humming enough to mask the sound of someone smashing watermelons. But not loud enough she couldn’t hear a dog bark. Her eyes widened. “Howey.”
She jumped down from the trailer and ran around the front of the truck. “Check around the house,” she commanded. “I’ll look around the barn.”
Gerard ran for the house while Bernie made a circle around the exterior of the barn.
Gerard arrived back from his perusal, shaking his head. “I didn’t see him.”
Bernie opened the small barn door beside the larger double doors, which were only used when driving big equipment in and out or bringing horses into stalls. As she stepped inside, she reached to switch on the light and almost tripped over a lump on the floor.
As the lights blinked on, Bernie realized the lump on the floor was Howey.
“Oh, dear God,” she said and dropped to her knees beside him.
Gerard eased past her and the dog and knelt on the dirt floor. “Is he alive?”
Bernie laid her ear against the dog’s chest and listened for a long moment, desperate to hear the beat of his heart or feel the rise and fall of the animal’s chest as it filled with air.
She’d almost given up hope when she detected the faint rhythm of a pulse. “I hear a heartbeat,” she said, her voice catching in her throat. She leaned back and checked the animal all over, lifting his paw to test for resistance but finding none. “I don’t see any injuries. What’s wrong with him? Why isn’t he moving?”
“We need to get him to a vet,” Gerard scooped his hands beneath Howey and lifted him.
“We’ll take the produce truck. I don’t have to unhitch it from a trailer. Go. I’ll be right there.”
Gerard carried Howey out of the barn.
Bernie ducked into a small office, snagged the spare keys for the produce truck and ran to get in front of Gerard. She opened the passenger door and waited for Gerard to climb in with Howey and settle into the passenger seat. Once they were in, she shut the door, ran around to the driver’s side, climbed in and twisted the key in the ignition.
The engine turned over once and died.
“Come on,” she urged and turned the key again. This time, the engine caught and roared to life.
With her foot on the clutch, she shifted into first, released the clutch and eased her foot onto the accelerator. The truck lurched forward, steadied and rumbled down the driveway as she headed for town.
She shot glances toward Gerard and Howey several times on the way. “Is he breathing?”
“I can’t tell. But his body is still warm,” Gerard replied, holding the dog close.
Bernie didn’t slow much once she reached the outskirts of town. Dr. Saulnier, the only veterinarian in town, was two blocks past Broussard’s Country Store and one block north of Main Street.
Bernie blew past the sheriff’s office, the fire station and Broussard’s, slowing as she neared the turn off Main. She took the turn a little faster than the old truck liked, the tires squealing as it slid sideways. Quickly straightening the wheels, she skidded to a stop in front of the vet’s clinic.
The engine hadn’t completely shut down by the time Bernie leaped from the driver’s seat and rounded the hood to the passenger side.
She flung open the door and helped Gerard slide out with Howey. Once they were on the ground, Bernie ran ahead, opened the door to the clinic and waited for Gerard to enter. Then she was at the desk. “Linda, please tell me Dr. Saulnier is in. Something’s wrong with Howey. I think someone tried to kill him.”
Linda’s eyebrows rose. “Oh, dear. Yes, the doctor is in. He’s with a patient. I’ll let him know it’s an emergency.” She rushed from the room into the back of the office. When she returned, Dr. Saulnier was with her.
“Bring him into exam room one,” he said and led the way.
