Searching for Always (Page 18)

“Hi, Anthony. Checking up on Lenny and Mike?”

He laughed. “All animals thrive with you, so I’m not worried. Still trying to place them in the right home. Do you mind keeping them a bit longer? I don’t want to break them up.”

Usually puppies were separated to be adopted, but Mike and Lenny were an extreme case. They were so attached to each other that when Anthony had tried to separate them, both had gone a bit batty. Finding a family to take two puppies was a task. “No problem, you know I love them. If I can teach them not to eat all my shoes.”

“I’ll buy you new ones. I have a quick favor if you have a minute.”

Arilyn glanced up and watched Stone walk in and take his usual seat. He gave a grudging nod to the other men. “Sure, I have two.”

“I got a call from a lady on Bluebird Avenue. Complaining about a dog being chained twenty-four/seven in the yard. She thinks he’s starving and may be abused.”

“Did you call the ASPCA?”

“Yeah. Told me I needed more evidence before they’d come out and investigate. The lady said she doesn’t want to get involved because she suspects drug ties in the neighborhood.”

Arilyn sighed. “I wish we had more options with these cases. Who else could help? Police?”

“Most people don’t want to get entangled with animal problems. I suspect it’s a pit bull, so it could be protection or maybe even an underground fighting network. Not sure. Already called the police; they can’t do much either.”

She tamped down on the flash of temper and glared at Stone. Of course not. More things to do in Verily, such as speeding tickets to make more money for the town. She tried to imagine him risking time and effort on an animal case and couldn’t. He was more for the hard-core cases.

“What are our options?”

“I wondered if you could take a quick drive out there. Look around. The house is on a dead-end road with a gate. If you see something that can be used as evidence, we may be able to send someone out.”

The idea took root and bloomed. Yes. She’d just figured out a task for Officer Petty to complete while in her anger management course. And it would help not only him but also the shelter.

“No problem. I’ll check back with you after I make my run.”

His sigh of relief echoed through the phone. “Thanks. It’s a load off my mind. I’m kind of slammed with the Fur Ball event going on, and we lost two volunteers last week when they moved away.”

“Hang in. I’ll talk to you later.”

They hung up. Time to use a bit of force from the force to help save an animal.

Arilyn threw her phone in her satchel and took a seat at the front.

“Let’s begin.”

HE NEVER SHOULD’VE EATEN the damn fish fillet.

Stone lay on the mat with his feet straight out in front of him. The object, besides breathing of course, was to touch his toes with his hands. The two bastards beside him seemed to have little trouble with this task also. As his teacher from hell praised them for their “surrender” to their bodies, he did everything in his power, including praying to God, to just touch one end of his finger anywhere close to his ankles.

Not gonna happen.

Was that look of sympathy she shot him on purpose? Damned if it wasn’t. Instead of support, she directed her words to him in her chilly, professional voice with no warmth: “Don’t fight your body, Officer. Relax into the stretch and accept your limitations. Not everyone can touch their toes the first time.”

He could bench-press an elephant and run two miles without breaking a sweat. But his ridiculous hamstrings were bunched up like cords, and his back wanted to spasm in shock. That was it. He was hitting some kind of Pilates class and screw whoever thought he wasn’t manly. This was humiliation in public. Stone glanced over to the other dudes and caught Eli’s triumphant look. Then the bastard leaned even deeper, going past his stupid toes.

Show-off.

She chattered nonstop in that lilting musical voice and got him even more twisted up. Stuff about release and the body-mind and the root of disease lying in anger. Had he ever noticed her ass was spectacular? Sure, he knew she was in shape, but when she turned and the perfect, tight, heart-shaped rear was right in front of him, he got all kinds of distracted.

He tried not to pant and curse, pretending to close his eyes and surrender. Instead, he peeked from under his lids and watched her float across the room.

The fish fillet seemed like a good idea at the time. He only meant to confirm his choice of food and show her not everyone was so perfect. How happy could one possibly be eating wheat and fruit all day? Instead, she’d gotten that scary look on her face, all focused and tight, like she was about to make him pay. As if she actually cared he may die before he hit forty. And that smart-assed remark about his age? Priceless.

Not very yogic. But a hell of a lot more intriguing than her usual. In fact, the way she put him solidly in his place the entire session kind of turned him on in a perverted way. At least she had a spine. A quite gorgeous one, he bet, from that tempting peek of unblemished white skin at the nape of her neck. She’d taken her long hair, twisted it up, and knotted it without even looking in a mirror. Like she didn’t give a crap how she looked. Also obvious in the lack of makeup on her face.

Imagine that. A woman who didn’t spend hours on her appearance. It was like the yeti—an intriguing but never-before-seen legend.

“Let’s breathe in, hold, and release from the position. Excellent work, gentlemen.”

His body creaked and cried, but he made sure to look like it was easy. The glint of laughter in those grassy-green eyes called him an outright liar.