Lost & Found - Jacqueline Sheehan [62]
Tess and Dr. Harris faced Rocky. The dog, sensing a change in the atmosphere, tilted his head up and also looked at Rocky.
“I needed to hear you say that Liz wouldn’t have hurt him. I thought that would have been enough. But something is wrong here and we’re all missing what it is. You’re a scientist,” said Rocky, pointing her head at the vet. “There’s a certain order to things, A leads to B, causality of certain events, but something is out of order here.”
Ann Harris looked puzzled by Rocky.
Tess said, “She’s a dog warden now, recently vacated from her life as a psychologist. Some sort of career move.”
“Liz didn’t say anything about that to me. I wasn’t her confidante. Ask me anything about this dog’s health, and I can tell you that,” said Dr. Harris.
“Can you tell me where she lived?”
The vet paused for a minute. “Well, there’s no standard of confidentiality about to be breached. I guess there’s no reason not to,” she said. She opened up Cooper’s file on the counter. “Liz lived over in Old Town, near the college. It’s really still Orono, but they like to have their own name.”
Rocky wrote down the address and suddenly something shifted. She realized that she was in a veterinarian clinic, really in it, and her first thought, and second, and third had not been about Bob. But her reprieve was over. The smells thundered in on her, the oily scent of water dogs, the familiar disinfectant to cover up cat and dog accidents, even the lingering scent of a poodle’s anal glands that had been recently emptied out, all joined forces to drag her back to the empty well of Bob’s death.
Her heart began to pound and drum blood through her ears. Her breath turned shallow, as if she didn’t want anyone to hear her, and she could no longer hear the words that Dr. Harris was saying.
“I need some air…must have been the drive,” she said as she headed with determination for the door of the examining room. She heard Cooper’s claws scuttle to standing as she touched the doorknob.
“I’ll be outside,” she said in a small, dry voice. She walked past the receptionist and pushed open the front door. Cooper followed with his leash dragging on the floor. Outside, she leaned on Tess’s car and gulped in fistfuls of cold, biting air, filling herself back up. She knew how to handle this; she had taught countless people how to counteract anxiety attacks. Take even, steady breaths, and slow your breathing. Inhale for four, hold for four, breath out for eight. Slow and steady.
Tess joined her. “You don’t look so good. You are exactly the color of wet ash. I said our goodbyes in there. And here’s the arrow.” She handed the envelope back to Rocky.
“It’s just being in a vet clinic again. It took me by surprise, that’s all.”
“Smells. Happens to me all the time. The olfactory sense goes to a part of our brain that lights up memory. Being in a vet clinic must be like standing in your husband’s pajamas. Take a few deep breaths of fresh air,” said Tess.
Tess pulled a blue Polartec hat out of her coat pocket and pulled it on; her white hair jutted out beneath it. She extracted gloves and pulled them on. It was early afternoon and a storm front from the northwest was steadily approaching. “This would be a good time for us to head home. I don’t want to drive in a blizzard,” said Tess.
Rocky straightened up. “Not yet. We’ve got her address. I want to drive past her house. Look, I don’t exactly know why…”
The clinic door opened and the receptionist waved an arm at them. “Hey, wait up a second.” The young woman did a little jog to the car, and wrapped her arms tightly around her torso. She had on a T-shirt and a green lab coat over that. “Whatever you do, don’t let Peter talk you into giving the dog to him. Liz was done with him.”
Tess and Rocky exchanged glances. “I didn’t catch your name,” said Rocky.