The Pregnant Colton Witness. Geri Krotow
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The motion-detector lights came on as she walked through the corridor that ran along the back of the building. No sounds came out of the kennel. A good sign. This time of night it was usually silent, but if an animal were really ill, this could be the worst time for them, too. She let out a breath of gratitude as she saw that all the animals were quiet and resting peacefully in their respective kennels. The usually feisty Gabby had her head tucked firmly under a wing, one eye peering at Patience as if to say “Don’t bug me.”
“Hi, sweetie girl,” she whispered to the parrot as she walked by.
Fred was her main concern. The labradoodle needed to get an easy walk in, not so much to relieve himself as to help with the healing and to prevent his muscles from freezing up. He acknowledged her with half-open eyes, a tiny wag of his fluffy, untrimmed tail. She smiled at his sweet face. “Come on, boy. Let’s go for a little stroll.”
She braced her core muscles as she gently half lifted the eighty-pound dog onto a portable ramp and onto the clinic floor. How had she not noticed the way her stomach was beginning to bulge out? She’d had strong abs all through vet school, as it was essential to being able to do her job well. And while the strength was still there, she was going to have to start modifying her routine soon. Heat crawled up her neck. Had her coworkers noticed her changing shape and simply remained quiet out of pure professionalism?
No, her sister would have noticed if she looked heavier or larger in her belly area. Layla was all about keeping up appearances. If it wasn’t such an ungodly hour Patience might be tempted to call Layla and share her situation. But then their father would find out, since Layla worked so closely with him and it’d be almost impossible for her to keep her mouth shut. Patience loved her sister and they shared a close bond, but it was probably best to keep this news to herself for the time being. She’d tell all her siblings—Layla, Bea, Blake and Gemma—when she was ready. She ignored the obvious: Nash Maddox needed to be told first.
Snapping a collar and leash onto Fred, she waited for him to steady his legs before they walked to the exit. “Here you go.” She wrapped a dog jacket made from space blanket material around him, being careful not to touch his suture area. Normally a large dog like Fred wouldn’t need a coat, but right after surgery it was her clinic’s protocol, and the night temperatures were dropping precipitously as autumn faded and winter hustled in. She’d had what—three, four winters in her clinic so far?
Her clinic. She’d worked so hard through vet school, hoping to work with K9s, never dreaming she’d land such a plum job. It was a plus to be able to live and work near her family, even when they demonstrated a multitude of reasons she might want to consider a job elsewhere.
And now she was expanding the Colton family by one.
Yes, the everyday physicality of her job was going to need some modification as her pregnancy progressed. Lifting heavy dogs was going to have to take a back seat to her baby’s safety. That was what the other staff members and volunteers were for. She’d get through it.
She shoved gloves on and zipped up her ski jacket, bracing for the cold mountain air. South Dakota in October was not only desolate but could be bone-chilling. Thank goodness it hadn’t stormed today, and there was bare, dry ground for Fred to relieve himself on. Having to take care of his needs on sticky mud or frozen snow would have been tough on her patient.
“Here we go, buddy. Get ready for some cold.” She draped the binoculars they kept on a hook near the door around her neck. Still no sign of clouds, so she might see a great horned owl, after all. Ever since she’d been a little girl she’d loved searching trees for birds. Identifying them played second fiddle to enjoying their unselfconscious way of living. And who didn’t want to watch a feathered creature fly?
The air didn’t disappoint—it was freezing—as she and Fred stepped into the fenced yard area where the dogs could run free, whether they were boarders or healing from treatment. It was atop a hill, on the way to the mountains, and overlooked Black Hills Lake. The yard sloped down to where the RRPD had installed a small concrete pier for training purposes. The insides of Patience’s nose stung from the harsh temperature, but the beauty of the view was worth it.
“How are you doing, Fred?”
Fred didn’t respond to her verbal inquiry, but sniffed the ground and in short order lifted his leg against a small bush. A burst of relief filled her, warming her from the inside out. Nothing was more satisfying than to see a patient recover quickly and return to normal. As Fred resumed sniffing the frosty ground, she looked up at the stars that speckled the dark sky, the full moon their only competition. She and her canine companion could stay out a few minutes more before the cold became a concern for Fred’s healing body.
A creaking sound floated through the air and she turned her attention to the lake. It was beginning to freeze over with a thin crust of sparkling ice, but was too deep to solidify in just one cold night. A movement caught her eye and she noticed a small boat in the middle of the lake, approximately two hundred yards from shore, dead center from where she and Fred stood. Patience blinked, hoping she was imagining the warning signals from her tightening gut. It was too early for ice fishing and too late, as well as too cold, for anything else recreational.
Something very wrong was happening on Black Hills Lake.
She raised the binoculars with shaky hands and focused on the boat. What she saw seemed out of a nightmare. A tall figure, masculine in stature, was holding the limp body of a woman in his arms, her slim limbs hanging lifeless. At least Patience believed it to be a woman, as the figure had long hair. The pale gold strands hung over the man’s arms and reflected the moonlight. Her gut tightened painfully and Patience held her breath, waiting for the woman to wake up. Wake up!
Before she could yell to let them know they were being watched and should cease whatever they were doing, the man dropped the woman over the side of the boat. There was no struggle, nothing but the soft splash as the body disappeared from sight. As if it’d never been there.
Patience couldn’t stop the gasping cry that escaped her lips. Her exclamation, while not at top volume, carried across the eerie stillness. Frozen in place, she kept the binoculars focused, noting whatever details she could.
Icy shock crept over her as the man turned toward the clinic, searching for the source of the sound. She saw the moment he spotted her on the shore, his ice-blue eyes clear and sinister in the moonlight, through the binocular lenses. She didn’t recognize him, but knew that he saw her, and his frown was the only warning she had before he leaned over and started a high-power motor she hadn’t noticed before. Patience dropped the binoculars to her chest and scooped up Fred, adrenaline lending her strength. She’d lifted heavier dogs before, but she never had to move this quickly with them.
“Hang in there with me, Fred.” She ran back into the clinic and quickly put him in his kennel. Her phone was on her desk where she’d left it, but she had to lock the back door before running for it. When she turned the standard lock, she looked through the window and noted that the boat had carved through the thin layer of lake ice and the hulking man was close to the shore behind the clinic. He was clearly aiming for the small pier that the RRPD used for its launches and when training the K9 divers.
Patience went into alert mode, following the protocol practiced in drills with the RRPD. She locked herself in her office, grabbed her phone and went to the gun safe as she called the dispatcher.
“Nine-one-one.