Delia sucked in a shallow breath when the dog finally poked his head from the crate, his nose extended toward the treat. Slowly, he approached her, taking it gently in his mouth. Distracted by the chewy morsel, he didn’t object when Aaron lifted him and settled him in Delia’s arms.
Zach started to fuss, reaching for the cages. Vero bounced him on her hip, giving me a pointed look as she carried him away, jutting her chin toward Aaron as she wandered from view.
“What happened to Sam?” I asked, noting the small cast on the dog’s hind leg.
“Sam was a rescue.” Aaron smiled as he watched Delia stroke Sam’s back. “I found him about a few weeks ago, caught up in his own chains. Sam’s sweet. He’s just a little anxious. Nothing a loving home won’t fix. Rescues make great companions.” He reached for the clipboard hanging beside him on the wall. “Speaking of which, we ask all of our adopting families to fill out an application.” He passed me the clipboard and a pen.
While Delia played with Sam, I stared awkwardly at the questionnaire. The last thing I wanted was a record of my visit here, but it might seem suspicious if I refused. Aaron smiled politely, trying not to be obvious as he checked the time on his phone.
I started filling out the form, putting Theresa’s and Steven’s names and address in the blanks. It seemed fitting, since getting a dog had been Steven’s idea, and he’d promised Delia it could live with them.
Delia giggled at my feet as Sam showered her with kisses, eager for another treat. She cooed in the dog’s ear, fussing over his injuries. No wonder Patricia spent so much time here. It probably made her feel good to care for these animals who had been abandoned or unloved or saved from horrible owners. It probably felt safe to be around people like Aaron, who were gentle and kind, after being chained to a man like Harris for half her life. If this shelter was her safe place, and these people she worked with were the closest thing she had to a family, wouldn’t she have confided in someone here?
I handed the form back to Aaron. “Last time we visited, I spoke with a woman named Patricia about a particular dog—it had a black spot around its eye and mottled fur, about this big,” I said, gesturing with my arms as I described the dog I’d seen her holding in the photo.
“You mean Pirate?”
“Yes! That was his name. I don’t see him here. Do you have a number where I can reach her to ask about him?”
“No, I wish I did,” he said, his face falling. “We’ve all tried calling her. Patricia didn’t come in last week, and no one’s heard from her since. As for Pirate, he and his sister, Molly, were adopted together a few weeks ago. I’m sorry.”
“Oh, that’s a shame,” I said, scrambling for a new angle. “I’d really like to get in touch with her. Patricia said she had a great Pilates instructor, but I lost the name of the club she belonged to.”
Aaron shrugged, his cheeks going pink as he skimmed my application. “Sorry, I wouldn’t know. Pilates isn’t really my thing. And she never mentioned anything about a club.”
“Was she friends with anyone else who might know where I can find her?”
He looked askance at me. “I don’t think so. The police have already asked everyone else.”
“The police?” I asked, feigning surprise. “Why would the police be looking for her?”
He frowned. “It was on the news. Patricia and her husband are missing. No one knows where she is.”
“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.” It wasn’t hard to look upset by the news. If she hadn’t talked to anyone here, this was just one more dead end. “Do the police have any leads?”
“They didn’t say. A detective searched her locker. He asked a lot of questions. I told him she’d been anxious and a little jumpy the last few shifts, but she never mentioned anything about going anywhere. Mostly, they wanted to know about her husband. A few of us…” His weak jaw clenched. He cast an anxious glance around us and lowered his voice. “A few of us think she might not have had the best relationship with him. He sounded like a real dick.” Someone called Aaron’s name. He rose up on his toes, searching over my head. He lifted a finger to them, indicating he’d be right there.
“I should probably put Sam away,” Aaron said, his frown lingering as he bent to extricate the dog from Delia’s hands and return Sam to his crate. “Did you want to see any other dogs while you’re here?”