She then found herself going to the Wags and Walks website to check out the latest offering of dogs up for rescue. Ballard was still mourning the loss of her dog Lola, who had succumbed to bone cancer eight months earlier. With increasing frequency she found herself checking out rescue sites, looking at photos and thinking about bringing a dog home. Lola had been a pit bull mix and her look had intimidated more than a few people on Venice Beach. Ballard never had to worry about her belongings when she took her paddleboard out and left Lola at her tent.
But now that she was living in the new apartment, there was a weight limit on acceptable animals and Ballard was looking more for companionship than protection.
She scrolled through the photos and read some of the accompanying stories — all from the dog’s point of view. She finally came to Pinto, a Chihuahua mix with golden eyes and a sincere look. He had caught Ballard’s eye two weeks ago when he first showed up on the carousel of photos of dogs needing homes. He was still there at the shelter and still available.
Ballard looked up at the clock on the wall. It was time to go catch Cindy Carpenter as she opened the coffee shop for business. She looked back at Pinto. He was brown and white and had a longer snout than a pure-bred Chihuahua — like Frederic, the dog Jack Kersey carried. She clicked on a button under his photo and an email form came up. She typed, “I want to meet Pinto.” She hesitated, but only for a second or two, and then added her cell number and clicked the send button.
She was dead tired when she crossed the station parking lot to her Defender. But she was hopeful about Pinto.
She counted the hours since she had slept and it came to almost a solid day. She wanted to take her board out to the Sunset break and let the Pacific restore her, but she knew sleep was imperative. She would go by Native Bean, check on Cindy, then get to her apartment to sleep until at least noon. She drove out of the station lot and up to Sunset. She took a right and it was a straight shot to Hillhurst.
Ballard arrived at Native Bean at seven and saw four people already in line at the window. She parked across the street, pulled up her mask, and got out.
When it was Ballard’s turn, she was not waited on by Cindy. Ballard ordered a decaf black and could see Cindy in the background, making the drinks. She called out to her and waved.
“You got a minute?”
“Uh, not right — Let me get these orders out. There’s a table on the side.”
Because Ballard had not ordered a fancy coffee concoction, she received her cup right away. She took it around the side of the building, where there were four tables spaced properly along the sidewalk of the cross street. She sat at the table next to the side door of the shop and waited. She didn’t want the coffee she had just bought, even though it was decaf. She wanted to be able to sleep.
Carpenter came out with her own cup of coffee after about five minutes.
“Sorry, we got busy.”
She sat across the table from Ballard. The bruises on her face were spreading and had turned a deep purple. The lacerations were just starting to scab over.
“No problem,” Ballard said. “I didn’t tell you I was coming. I just wanted to check on you and see how you’re doing.”
“I’m all right,” Carpenter said. “I guess. Considering.”
“Yeah, you’ve been through something nobody should have to experience.”
“Is there any news? Did you — ”
“No, not really. I mean, no arrests. When we get them, I will let you know right away, day or night.”
“Thanks, I guess.”
“Did you have time to work on the questionnaire?”
“Yes, but I’m not finished. It’s a lot. I brought it with me and I’ll work on it after the morning rush.”
As if on cue, the screen door of the shop opened and the woman who had taken Ballard’s order at the window leaned out.
“We have orders,” she said.
“Okay,” Carpenter said. “I’ll be in.”
The employee let the door bang shut.
“I’m sorry,” Carpenter said. “I really need to be in there.”
“That’s okay,” Ballard said. “We can talk later when you finish the questionnaire. I just wanted to ask if anything else came to mind. You know, you remembered about the photo, so I wanted to see if more details had come to you.”
Carpenter got up from the table.
“No, not really,” she said. “Sorry.”
“It’s okay, nothing to be sorry about,” Ballard said. “But one other thing real quick. One of your neighbors saw a white van on the street before the attack on you. Two men, supposedly working on a streetlight, but the light is definitely out. I was up there. So I think it was them and they were disabling the light to make it darker outside your house.”