Creed and Jason took up a corner table out of the way, where they could also feed Grace and Bolo. He glanced down at the dogs and noticed that both of them ate slower and with more manners than Jason. Creed grabbed the last biscuit from the plastic basket and Jason noticed, stopping long enough to look sheepish about having devoured three to Creed’s one.
“I drove most of the night,” Jason said by way of explanation. “Nothing open after midnight.”
“Usually Hannah packs me a little something.”
“Oh yeah, she made me a couple of sandwiches and a thermos of coffee.”
Creed raised an eyebrow, but now Jason was preoccupied with slathering butter on his last biscuit.
Both men were in their twenties—Creed at the end and Jason at the beginning—but Creed realized the gap between them was a cavern when it came to many things, including appetite.
“She was pretty worried about you,” Jason said.
“Hannah worries too much.”
“She didn’t even want me waiting for Dr. Parker. Otherwise we could have rode together.”
“Dr. Avelyn’s coming?”
“I guess she got a call from some organization she belongs to.”
“VDRA,” Creed said. “Veterinarian Disaster Response Assistance. That’s good. That means she’ll help set up the decontamination process for the work dogs, too.”
“Yeah, I saw about a half-dozen dogs and trainers getting in this morning.”
Creed had convinced Hannah a few years back that they needed to have a veterinarian on-site at their facility. Avelyn Parker had her own practice with two other vets in Milton, Florida. When Creed built a clinic on his property, he convinced her to spend at least two afternoons a week there, paying her a generous monthly retainer that covered emergencies, too.
It made more sense having a vet come to them instead of crating and driving dogs continuously for even the basic services. But Dr. Avelyn had been adamant about being a volunteer member of an organization and needing to be ready to go at a moment’s notice. VDRA was one of several organizations that sent veterinarians to disaster sites like this one. They set up protocol for decontamination and were ready to treat any working dogs that got injured while on duty. They were also ready to treat animals harmed by the disaster—like the dog Vance’s crew had found buried in the car.
Thinking about that poor scared dog, Creed said to Jason, “Hannah shouldn’t have sent Grace with you.” He glanced down at her, and she was staring up at him from the mention of her name. He patted her, keeping his voice conversational and trying to leave out his concern. “She’s too small for this kind of terrain.”
“I don’t think Hannah expects her to work. She said she’s been missing you.”
That’s exactly what Hannah had told Creed when they talked just an hour ago. Although from the tone of her voice he suspected that Hannah thought he needed Grace to lift his spirits more than Grace needed him. Either way, Creed couldn’t deny that her presence always made him feel better. He had a special connection with each of his dogs, but Grace—whom Hannah called “Amazing Grace”—seemed to bring out things in Creed that even he didn’t know existed.
“I don’t like this man, this Peter Logan,” Hannah had said to him earlier, after explaining that Logan had called last night insisting K9 CrimeScents was obligated to send backup. He had demanded this only seconds after he told her that Creed had been buried under a landslide.
Creed knew she was giving him a way out. She would handle the business end and the consequences if he wanted to cancel the job assignment. But if Logan thought he had a debt that needed to be repaid, he wouldn’t allow a cancellation.
One of the cafeteria ladies came by with a carafe of coffee, refilling their cups without asking.
“Get you boys anything else?”
“We’re good, thank you,” Creed said, shooting Jason a warning when he saw the kid look at the empty basket of biscuits. “This was all delicious,” he told the woman, sending the crinkles in her face into a smile.
“How ’bout the dogs? I’m sure we’ve got a couple ham bones back in the kitchen.”
“That’s very kind of you, but I’ve got to keep them on a special diet.”
“Oh sure, I never even thought of that. We heard about you getting caught in that last slide up there.”
She pointed at the cuts on his face. The medics told him the one above his eye probably needed stitches, but they butterflied it instead. Said it was too close to his eye and neither of them wanted to be poking a needle there.
“We sure appreciate you all being here. You need anything, just holler. I’m Agnes. I’m here for the long haul.”
He nodded his thanks as she went on to the next table.