The Same Place (The Lamb and the Lion #2) - Gregory Ashe Page 0,64

Apollo 11, with the words BUZZ OFF hand painted on the command module. Tean wasn’t sure what the long-term plan was for Perkins Towing and Impound, but it seemed to involve stockpiling rusted heaps of junk.

The home’s front door opened as Tean parked at the edge of the asphalt pad, and by the time he and Jem had gotten out of the truck, a woman was approaching them. From inside the house, a hound howled. At the curtained window, a doggy shape moved frantically back and forth, obviously desperate to be part of the action. As the woman got closer, Tean could make out more details in the bright flood from the security lights. The woman’s white hair was clipped shorter than Jem’s, her face held a million wrinkles, and she was eating some sort of mush out of a bowl. “Wanda Perkins,” she said, gripping Tean’s hand so hard that he felt a knuckle pop. “Wanda Perkins,” she said, repeating the gesture with Jem. “What can I do for you?”

“We’re looking for a car that was towed from the Kneaders,” Jem said. “Probably on . . .” He glanced at Tean.

“The eighteenth,” Tean said, massaging his hand.

“All right. Make, model, and license plate. I’ll need a copy of the vehicle registration and a valid driver’s license. The eighteenth?” She whistled. “Yard fees add up, boys. I hope you’ve got cash because we don’t take cards, and I only take checks from my granny.”

“Actually,” Jem said with a smile, “we’re not looking to retrieve the car. We just want to take a look at it.”

Wanda dug some more mush out of her bowl. Around a mouthful, she said, “Take a look at it?”

“That’s right. Pursuant to an ongoing police investigation.”

“Oh. That’s all right then. I’ll just take a look at your warrant.”

“Wanda,” Jem said, “you’re not really going to make us drive all the way back to Salt Lake, are you?”

“Is that where you’re going to get a warrant?” Wanda said.

“If we have to.”

“Then I guess you’re going to be making a drive. Be careful in the canyon, boys.”

The howling inside the house had only gotten louder—judging by the baying noise, Tean was pretty sure he was listening to a Basset. The doggy silhouette behind the curtain was still racing back and forth, and then all of the sudden the dog yelped and tumbled out of sight. Wanda’s expression tightened, and she turned back to the house.

Help me, Tean mouthed at Jem. Then, to Wanda’s retreating form, he said, “Is it arthritis?”

Wanda kept walking.

“Elbow dysplasia is very common in Basset hounds, and it makes most of them suffer from some degree of arthritis as they get older.”

This time, Wanda stopped. She turned to face them, almost invisible in a pool of shadow that the security lights didn’t touch.

Jem squeezed Tean’s nape once, the blond man’s excitement electric in his touch, and then he moved forward, already talking, already back in the game. “Wanda, my friend here is probably the best vet you’ll find this side of the Mississippi. He’s not hard on the eyes, either, am I right? Why don’t you tell us about your dog? What’s her name?”

“Toby Keith. He’s a boy.”

“How old’s Toby?”

“Twelve.”

Jem whistled. “I had a dog named Antony. He was pure mutt, but he had a lot of pit bull. He only made it to eleven. God, I’ve never cried so hard in my life. I was a kid, but Jesus, it still gets me sometimes. Have you had Toby long?”

“Only since the day he was born,” Wanda said. She stirred the mush with her spoon and then let it clink back against the bowl. “He just gets too excited when somebody new comes around. He starts running. He shouldn’t be doing that at his age.”

“But I bet you know how to take care of him, right? What do you do? Antony got really sick, stomach stuff, so sometimes we’d just make a game out of letting him chase ice cubes, and he loved that. What do you do for Toby?”

“I don’t know. Nothing really helps. I put him on my lap and rub his little legs, I guess.”

“Wow,” Jem said, beckoning for Tean to come forward. “Wow. You really love him, don’t you?”

Wanda didn’t answer; her eyes were lost in the darkness.

Tean grabbed his gear bag from the truck and moved to join Jem.

“This guy here,” Jem said, slinging an arm around Tean, “this stud, even if he won’t brag about himself, he’s a genius