Over His Head

The nearest house directly behind Eddy’s was probably a couple of miles south of the village on the side road. She’d have to go over to those woods to see if she could find any other wounded animals and the scene of the crime, because it was a crime. She’d call Mike O’Hara, the sheriff, and notify him they had a mutilator in the neighborhood. He could alert the rest of the community.

“Do you know what happened to it?”

Eddy looked up at her. “Why would somebody burn it?”

She had to admit the possibility that he’d done it himself, then become frightened of what he’d done and tried to save the animal.

Nancy didn’t think so though. She’d seen kids and adults who mutilated animals for what they considered fun. They felt nothing except annoyance that they’d been caught. Animal cruelty was one of the first symptoms of a psychopathic personality—a Ted Bundy in the making. She couldn’t remember the other symptoms—that spelled trouble.

That Wainwright guy ought to know. “Eddy, do you know if either Jason or Angie went out of the house last night?”

His head jerked up. “They like animals.”

Smart kid. Knew precisely why she was asking.

“Angie’s horse-crazy. Jason even liked the sheep.”

Nancy had no idea what sheep, but for the moment, at least, she respected Eddy’s take on his siblings.

“He’s finished,” Eddy said. “See?” He held the empty bottle up.

“Okay, rub his tummy until he piddles and poops.” She reached under the sink for a new roll of paper towels, took a couple and handed them to Eddy.

He didn’t hesitate. He simply set to work until the pup had evacuated satisfactorily. Nancy took the neatly folded paper towels from him. They’d go outside in the trash.

“Do you have any idea who he belongs to?” she asked. Stupid question. If she didn’t recognize the pup or its parents after six years in the neighborhood, he couldn’t be expected to know after one night.

Eddy shook his head and laid the sleeping pup and his nest back into the corner.

“That presents a problem. If I take him to the clinic, it costs money, and I suspect he’s a stray.”

“Can’t he stay here? I’ll look after him.”

She knew absolutely, positively that she shouldn’t even consider agreeing. “At his age he needs to be fed every four to six hours, and his bandage changed morning and night. We’ll get him onto puppy food soaked in milk, and after he starts getting better he’ll need to go outside to the bathroom.”

“School doesn’t start for a while,” Eddy said with what passed for enthusiasm with this child. “I can do it.”

“I’m sure your father won’t want you spending all your time looking after the pup.”

“Sure he will.” Then he ducked his head and all enthusiasm vanished. “He said we couldn’t have a dog yet. I could keep him here.” He stroked the pup’s head. “And I can pay you. My Gran’mere will send me some money if I ask her.”

When he looked up at her, she wondered how she could ever have thought he was expressionless. Such longing, such sadness, such hope! What had happened to this child to make him close down? She’d have to find out. And if that Wainwright fellow had anything to do with it, she’d see him rot in hell.

As if in answer to her summons, the doorbell rang again. Eddy jumped. “That’s my daddy,” he whispered.

“Stay here.”

“Do we have to tell him?”

“Don’t worry, Eddy, I’ll handle it.”

When she opened her front door, Wainwright stepped in without asking. “Have you seen my son? I can’t find him.”

“He’s here,” she said, and turned back to the kitchen.

“Eddy,” Tim rushed past her.

Eddy hunched over the puppy’s nest.

Tim squatted beside his son. “Eddy, don’t you ever do that again, you hear me?” Then he hugged the boy.

If he was an abuser, he was good at concealing it. Nancy saw tears in his eyes.

He held Eddy at arm’s length. “Son, you’re filthy. And no shoes. Where’ve you been?”

“I went out. I thought I’d be back before you woke up.” Then, as if realizing he’d actually spoken more than a few words at a time, he seemed to shrink into himself. “I’m sorry.”

She saw Tim gulp convulsively.

“It’s okay, son. It’s good that you wanted to go out and explore. Just don’t go out alone again without telling me. Even if I’m still in bed, I’ll get up and go with you. Maybe we’ll all go. We definitely need to explore our land, but this is the country. There’s a whole bunch of new stuff you’re not used to—snakes and fast trucks and woods and streams. You could have gotten lost.” He drew back and glanced over his shoulder. “And what are you doing over here bothering Miss Mayfield?”

No mention of their previous meeting. Thank God he chose to ignore it.

Eddy looked down at the nest. The only visible portion of the pup was an inch of charred brown ear.

“How about I make some coffee,” Nancy said. “I’ve also got OJ and a coffee cake. Sit down and let Eddy tell you about it. He’s a real hero.”

Eddy gave her a grateful look. She winked at him. Whether Tim Wainwright liked it or not, his son had a dog. If she had anything to say about it, he’d keep it.

CHAPTER SIX

TIM SIPPED HIS COFFEE and watched with wonder as his son wolfed down his third piece of coffee cake. He was on his second glass of orange juice, as well. In the past year, Eddy had grown thinner and thinner. Tim gave him vitamins, made certain his mother-in-law kept the house filled with fruit and lunch meat as well as pastry and tried to believe the doctors who told him his son was perfectly healthy. Physically, maybe he was.

Didn’t stop Tim from worrying. On the one hand, he had to watch his mother-in-law to keep her from stuffing Angie, already verging on pudgy, with French pastry. Jason could eat Chicago without gaining an ounce. Every calorie went straight up. Eddy seemed to have lost his sense of self-preservation when he lost his mother.

Now, here he was swigging orange juice and actually kicking the rungs of the kitchen chair like a normal kid. He opened his mouth to admonish his son, then clapped it shut. If it didn’t bother her, it shouldn’t bother him.

“So you see, he’s a hero,” Miss Mayfield said.

“I’m going to look after him while Nancy’s at work,” Eddy said. He met his father’s eyes as though daring him to object.

“The lady’s name is Miss Mayfield,” Tim said automatically.

“Nancy,” she said, “I hate being called Miss Mayfield. Makes me feel as old as my grandmother.” She smiled at Eddy, who actually smiled back. “Nobody in Williamston stands much on ceremony. We all live too close to one another.” He saw her give a convulsive gulp as though she realized what she’d just said. She quickly poured Tim another cup of coffee without being asked and turned her back on the table.

Lancelot had managed to stay on his good behavior until he smelled the coffee cake. He sat at Eddy’s feet and gave an occasional soft oink. Tim saw that Eddy was sneaking him bits of coffee cake under the table. He seemed to accept Lancelot as casually as he did the cats.

Lancelot pushed his snout against Tim’s leg. One look into those eyes and Tim was forced to give him a bit of coffee cake himself.

So far the only eyes he’d managed to avoid were Nancy’s. She seemed to be cooperating by avoiding his as well. Good. Better to forget the entire incident with the pig and the mirror. God that sounded like a fairy tale. Despite his previous resolution to stay aloof, he found himself grinning down at Lancelot.

Besides, he couldn’t stay aloof when he was so elated that Eddy had found something worth fighting for.

“Wonderful coffee,” he said. “Chicago coffee tends to be dark auburn unless you spend a fortune for it at Starbucks.” Actually the coffee could probably strip the bristles off Lancelot’s back, but at the moment, that was what he needed. He wasn’t used to 5:00 a.m. crises.

“Thanks,” she said. “Be back in a minute.”

He watched her go into what must be her bedroom. He could see the corner of a high, unmade bed through the doorway.

She still wore her cutoffs and a T-shirt. Even seminaked and embarrassed in his bedroom, Tim had appreciated the sight of his new neighbor as she dragged that blasted pig down his hallway. A man who didn’t enjoy looking at her long legs and tight rear end would have to be dead. Tim wasn’t quite dead. He was, however, turning into a randy old man. Celibacy tended to do that to the male of the species.

He realized he was getting hard, took an almighty gulp of coffee, scalded the roof of his mouth and drank half of Eddy’s orange juice.

“Hey!” Eddy protested.

Tim laughed. In the past eighteen months Eddy hadn’t cared enough about anything to feel proprietary. Even a little thing like begrudging his father a swig of orange juice was a major victory. He put down his son’s glass and topped it up from the pitcher on the table. “You realize you’ve drunk an entire orange grove there, son.”

“Oh.” Eddy looked away and set his glass down untouched.

Tim wanted to kick himself. “Joke,” he said. “Tell you what. We’ll bring Miss Mayfield—”

“Nancy,” Eddy corrected.

“—Nancy a gallon of OJ from the grocery.”

At that moment Nancy came back into the kitchen. She had combed her short, brown hair, but those delectable nipples were still very visible under the thin cotton of her T-shirt.

“I called Mike O’Hara,” she said. “He’s the sheriff. Lives a couple of miles outside town. He’s going to stop by on his way into the office. He wants to talk to you, Eddy, find out exactly where you found your pup.”

Eddy’s terrified eyes went straight to his father’s face. “Do I have to?”

“He’s a great guy,” Nancy explained. “He’s proud of you, too.” The look on Eddy’s face didn’t change. “Say, I thought I heard a whimper. You better go check on your puppy. Why don’t you move his bed into my bedroom?”

Eddy slipped off his chair, went over to the corner, scooped up pup and towels, and disappeared through Nancy’s bedroom door without a word.

“Of course what was done to the dog is a crime,” Tim said. “I should have realized.”

“A felony. There may be more hurt dogs out there that weren’t so lucky as Eddy’s puppy. He needs a name, by the way.”

Tim started to say that the dog wasn’t actually Eddy’s, but stopped. Of course the puppy was Eddy’s. It would remain Eddy’s even if he had to fight half of Williamston for possession. “Eddy will come up with something.”

Nancy took the chair across from Tim. “Okay, what gives with Eddy?”

Tim sat up. “That’s hardly your business.”

“The minute he dragged that burned puppy into my house, it became my business. At first I thought he must have burned the puppy himself—”

“Eddy loves animals! He’d never—”

“Calm down. I said at first. Nothing like this has happened in Williamston in the six years I’ve lived here.”

Tim felt his temperature rising. “Then the first night we’re here, somebody burns a puppy in my yard?”

“You do have two other children.”

Tim wanted to snatch Eddy, stalk out and slam the door after him.

“I’m not accusing you,” Nancy said.

“The hell you’re not.”

“You think Mike’s not going to ask these questions? You’re supposed to be this hotshot educator with degrees up the wazoo. You must know about kids who like to torture animals.”

“Not my children.” Suddenly he felt his anger evaporate. She was right, although he didn’t like to admit it. He walked over and looked into Nancy’s bedroom. Eddy slept on the rag rug beside her bed with the puppy’s bed in the crook of his arm. Lancelot had moved to snuggle into the crook behind his knees and was fast asleep as well. The two cats, he noted, were curled up together on the foot of the bed where they could oversee everything. Tim closed the door softly and went back to his place at Nancy’s table.

“A year ago my wife was killed in a drive-by shooting.”

Nancy caught her breath. “Oh, I am so sorry!”

“It’s been hard on all of us, but especially Eddy. He was the youngest and the closest to Solange, I think.”

“Solange? Is that Angie’s real name?”

He nodded. “Her father brought his family to Chicago from St. Nazaire in the fifties. He was a chemical engineer. Solange was born in Chicago.”

“Of course I hear about drive-by shootings, but I guess nobody ever thinks it will happen to them.”

Tim took a deep breath. “After she was killed, we did grief counseling, went a couple of times to groups for people who’ve lost loved ones to violence. The kids hated it. You can see how Angie reacted.” He laughed ruefully. “The day she dyed her hair jet-black, I thought her grandmother would have a stroke.” He glanced at Nancy. “Solange’s mother has been babysitter and substitute parent since Solange was killed.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t bring her down with you.”

“She wouldn’t have come. She thinks Chicago is barbaric. God only knows what she’d make of Williamston.” He wondered whether Nancy would notice his tense. He hadn’t actually asked Madame to join them. One of his reasons for leaving Chicago was to get away from her.

“Anyway, Jason seemed to be doing okay bar the oversize clothes. Then his grades started falling, I caught him smoking—only tobacco, thank God—and he started hanging around with some local gang wannabes. Then he took up skateboarding. You’ve already seen the hair and the earring holes. The next step would have been tattoos. He’s basically sound, but I was afraid he wouldn’t stay sound if I didn’t get him away.”

“And Eddy?”

“Eddy shut down. He’s been a little ghost. Never speaks unless he’s spoken to, does what he’s told, makes A’s in school. A Stepford kid.” He ran his hand over his short hair. “Even the psychologists couldn’t get through to him. I certainly couldn’t.” He nodded at her. “But you did.”

“Not me.” She nodded toward the bedroom door. “What’s the fancy academic phrase for therapy dog?”

CHAPTER SEVEN

SHERIFF MIKE O’HARA loved being sheriff nearly as much as he loved his fine herd of Red Brahman cattle. He liked to tell everyone who would listen, he either had to run cows or take bribes to keep his kid in private school. “So far I prefer cows,” he’d say. “Nobody’s offered me a good enough bribe yet.”

He looked like one of the bulls he raised. He was only about five foot ten, but red hair covered his head, arms, knuckles and probably his back. Nancy had never seen his back and didn’t want to. He was built like his bulls as well. Big neck, big shoulders, thick chest, which was only beginning its inevitable slide south of his beltline, the thighs of a football lineman and huge feet in highly polished ostrich boots. Since today was Saturday, he wore a tan polo shirt stretched tight across his chest and cowboy cut jeans worn extra long and crumpled over the ankles of his boots.

Nancy caught Tim’s dismay when Mike walked into her cottage. The heels of his boots cracked against her hardwood floors. Even though he was shorter than Tim, he looked formidable. Tim was no doubt afraid that the sight of this wide man with a gun on his belt would terrify his fragile son.

“Hey, Dr. Wainwright,” Mike said as he extended his hand. “Glad to have you in Williamston.”

Nancy grinned at Tim’s surprise. Mike O’Hara’s voice was a sweet, gentle light baritone that made listening to the choir at the Williamston Baptist Church on Sunday a real pleasure. Still, to be on the safe side, she warned him again about Eddy. She did not, however, mention the death of Tim’s wife. That was up to Tim.

Tim started to follow him as he went toward Nancy’s bedroom, but Mike shook his head. “Don’t worry, Doc. I won’t scare him.”

They watched him hunker down beside the child, who was already stirring from his nap. When Mike spoke to him, he rubbed his eyes, then sat up quickly the moment he glimpsed the sheriff looming over him. Nancy saw Eddy’s startled expression, watched him shrink closer to the bundled puppy, then relax as Mike’s voice flowed over him. Mike scratched behind Lancelot’s ears as he talked.

Five minutes later, Mike came back with his arm draped across Eddy’s shoulders. “Boy here’s a real hero, Doc. Got yourself a good young’un. He’s gonna show me right where he found the pup.”

“I’ll come with you, if you don’t mind,” Tim said. Nancy could tell he didn’t give a damn whether Mike minded or not.

“Me, too,” she said. “Soon as I get some shoes on. Eddy, how’s your pup doing?”

“He was whimpering a little, but I calmed him down.” He nodded. “He’s breathing real good.”

“I’ll check on him first,” Nancy said. “By the time we’re finished he’ll probably need another bottle. You game?”

“He’s my puppy.”

Eddy was right. He was breathing well. She sprayed some more pain killer on the gauze that covered his burns, stroked his small, brown velvet head, pulled on a pair of deck shoes and ran across the street to find the men.

Mike was saying, “Probably some teenage idiot and his drunken buddies.” He turned to her. “Nancy, looks like the pup may have been tossed out of a car.” He shook his head. “Somebody’s idea of a Roman candle. Rolling in the grass probably saved his life, and the high grass and those soft baby bones probably kept him from breaking up when he hit.”

“You can’t find any others?”

Mike shrugged. “Let’s hope he’s all there were.” He glanced at Eddy, then at Nancy and raised an eyebrow. She got the message.

“Eddy, you know where the puppy formula is,” Nancy said. “Wash out the bottle really well and rinse it a lot before you mix up the formula. You okay with that?”

“Uh-huh.” He started to run across the lane, but his father grabbed him.

“Eddy, this may not be Chicago, but cars do drive this road. You know better. Look both ways and don’t run.”

“Yes, sir.” Eddy looked both ways, then dashed full tilt across the street and into Nancy’s house.

“Is it all right for him to be in your house by himself?” Tim asked.

“Unless he’s a budding burglar. Not that I have much to steal.”

“I wanted to look some more, Doc,” Mike explained. “If we do find something bad, I didn’t want the boy around.”

“Thanks. What do we do? Quarter the area?”

“You got it. Work front to back. Nancy, you and Doc take the yard on the north side. We’ll meet in the back.”

Fifteen minutes later they had worked their way to the edge of the woods at the back of Tim’s property without finding anything.

“I’ll fill out a report and tell my boys to keep a lookout on patrol,” Mike said. “Probably kids from town drunk on beer and stupid. You hear any hoo-rawing outside last night?”

Both Nancy and Tim shook their heads.

“Well, let’s hope it’s an isolated incident. Nice to meet you, Doc. Bye, Nancy. Come see us.” He walked across the street to where his squad car sat behind Nancy’s car. He gave no indication that he noticed Nancy’s flat tire and dented bumper, although he must have seen the damage.

As he pulled away, a bright red tow truck turned the corner from the village common and pulled up in front of Nancy’s house.

“Nuts,” she whispered. “I haven’t even brushed my teeth, much less taken a shower. Can you see to getting the car onto the tow truck?” She started across the street. Tim followed.

“My bad. My responsibility. I talked to my insurance agent last night. He should have made arrangements with your dealer to have it fixed by now. He said they’d furnish a loaner.”

“Fast work.”

“He’s an old friend.” He grimaced. “Actually I told him the accident occurred on private property, and that I intended to pay the tab personally. I’m not making a claim.”

Nancy’s eyebrows went up.

“Cheaper than skyrocketing insurance rates.”

“It’s going to cost you.”

“It’s going to cost Jason in the long run,” Tim said grimly. “By the time he finishes paying me back, he’ll be the safest driver in Tennessee.”

BECAUSE EDDY REFUSED to leave his puppy to go with Nancy and Tim to get her car fixed and pick up a rental, Nancy suggested they take the pup and Eddy with them.

“We can stop by the clinic,” she said. “If you’re going to keep him, then you really need a doctor to check him out. I’m good, but I’m a vet tech, not a veterinarian.” She turned to Tim. “A dog, even a healthy one, is a big responsibility. He needs shots, heart worm tests and medication, the right sort of food, vitamins, toys and when he’s better he’ll need exercise and a safe place to play. Dogs run loose around here, but it’s a bad idea, especially for a small one.” She didn’t want to add that despite her best efforts, the puppy might not make it.

Tim put his hand on Eddy’s fair hair. “We can afford a little dog like this, can’t we, son? He’ll be mostly your responsibility, you know.”

“I’ll take good care of him,” Eddy said, his pale eyes gleaming. He went into Nancy’s bedroom and came back a moment later with the pup in his arms. After she settled child and dog in the back seat of Tim’s SUV, she turned to Tim. “He’s too little to take full responsibility for a pet, Dr. Wainwright. The responsibility will be yours. Are you willing to accept that?”

Tim grinned and shrugged. “My mission, should I choose to accept it? Yeah, I choose.”

As they drove the twenty miles to Collierville, Tim said, “Jason and Angie are old enough to stay alone in the daytime. Frankly I doubt they’ll wake up before we get home, but I left a note for them. On weekends they can sleep around the clock. They have my cell phone number. At your clinic last night, I found Jason staring at a ewe and a couple of lambs. He actually seemed interested. That young man—Kevin, I think he said his name was—took him to see a horse under treatment.”

“It’s Kenny. He’s our very own rescue project,” Nancy said. “He’s a rich kid from the neighborhood. We caught him in the act of vandalizing and put him to work after school. Complete turnaround.”

“Hmm.”

At the car dealership, Nancy was horrified to learn the cost of her repairs. She was glad she wasn’t paying for them. She had little enough extra money, and she was already culling some of her old growth trees to pay for a kitchen update on her cottage.

The good news was that the car didn’t require as much work as she’d feared. She suspected the cost would be a shock to Tim as well. He couldn’t be making much as a high school teacher at Maybree. She almost considered splitting the cost, but gave up the idea. Let Jason pay his father back.

“Should be done by Tuesday afternoon, Nancy,” said Ralph Simmons, the service manager, who’d looked after her last three cars. “Here.” He handed her a set of keys. “It’s not what you’re used to, but it’s the only loaner they could get today. They brought it over first thing this morning.” He pointed to a small, black two-door sedan. It looked as though it might hold two bags of groceries tops. Still, it was transportation. She wouldn’t have to rely on Tim and his brood to get her around anymore.

“Follow me to Creature Comfort,” she said to Tim. “One of the good things about being on staff is that we can go in the back door and not have to wait. Dr. Hazard’s on duty this morning. He doesn’t generally work Saturdays.”

Later, as he went over the pup, Dr. Hazard said, “Nice job, Nancy.”

“Can you stitch up his wound?” Tim asked.

Hazard shook his head. “Needs to heal from the inside out slowly. We’ll treat it with antibiotic ointment, painkiller and, after it starts to heal, hydrocortisone ointment. I’d like to keep him here until Monday in our intensive care. The biggest threat at the moment is infection. And pups his age can simply fade.” He glanced down at Eddy.

So did Nancy. From Eddy’s narrow eyes and set jaw, she could tell he had no intention of relinquishing his charge without a fight.

“I can look after him,” Eddy said. “He’s my dog.”

“Obviously you can,” Dr. Hazard said. “He wouldn’t have gotten this far without you. You can visit him tomorrow. By then he may actually feel like moving around a little. But doing the best for our animals is not always the happiest thing for us humans.”