Final Stand

She gave him an arctic smile. Her looks had been a problem for her as long as she could remember, and although there was nothing she could do if he wanted to see her as some kind of vamp, he would be wise not to test whether she would defend herself.

About to say as much, to tell him what he could do with his key, she heard sirens. A fire truck, she concluded, with at least one patrol car. No, here came a second one. Damn. Exactly the kind of commotion she didn’t need. That kind of racket in a community this small was going to rouse the whole town.

“You okay?”

Ignoring him, she weighed her options against her predicament. She didn’t want to stay here a minute longer than necessary, but being on the road now could be a bigger mistake. Chances were no one here knew anything about her—yet—and she might slip through, but if asked tomorrow or the next day, how many details would people remember? Their answers could endanger more than her.

Resigned, she muttered, “Which pocket?”

“Right.”

She leaned from the waist, saw the half moon of a key ring and plucked out the small handful of keys. They sounded like wind chimes in the renewed silence—or a fleeting, mocking laugh. “Which is it?”

“The medium-size silver one with the flattened edge.”

Aware of his scrutiny, she unlocked the door and flipped on the switch just inside. The long line of fluorescent lights burned her travel-weary eyes and, blinking, she stepped aside to let him pass. He turned left at the first room, switching on those lights with his elbow, illuminating a fully equipped examination-operating room.

In the merciless brilliance, his five o’clock shadow added to his haggard, neglected appearance, and she wondered exactly how many drinks he’d already consumed. Was he even in any condition to do what had to be done for the dog?

“Come hold her,” the vet directed as he set the wounded animal on the examination table. He must have seen her hesitation for he sighed. “Look, I’ve been out on a call that took the better part of the day and I only got home a half hour before you arrived. I’m beat, ticked over losing an animal and I can’t remember my last meal. So I apologize if I’m short on manners. Try not to take it personally.”

If what he said about his day was true, she owed him an apology in return. But she’d also met enough barflies to know they were perfectly capable of achieving a considerable buzz in less time than that. So she simply nodded and did as he asked, focusing on keeping the dog calm. It didn’t take much. The pup was remarkably docile and gave every indication that regardless of her pain, she felt safer with them than where she’d been.

Gray worked from nose to wound. “Eyes don’t indicate shock,” he noted. “Gums are a decent pink, so there hasn’t been considerable blood loss. Makes sense. The wound isn’t as deep as I first thought. Let me take a blood sample, and if things look okay, we’ll start an IV and get to work.”

He retreated to the sink and began washing up. With each movement the muscles along his back flexed. Although he was no bodybuilder, his waist tapered and his hips were trim. For a guy who acted as if he went through life on cruise control, he sure didn’t give any indication that he was heading for Flab City.

“You’re not from around here,” he said, slipping on gloves.

She put aside her own speculation. “No.” What she wasn’t going to tell him was that she didn’t exactly feel the place she’d come from was “home” either.

“Didn’t think I detected a Texas accent.”

“Which reinforces my claim that this can’t be my dog.” She willed the animal not to start licking her hand as she’d done earlier.

“You’re consistent, I’ll give you that.”

For the next minute or two he worked in silence. He took the blood sample and withdrew to the adjacent room. There she heard a steady series of movements, things being switched on and off and slid around. Finally he returned and she couldn’t help but notice that, while his feet remained bare, he had slipped on a blue lab coat. He had also fastened the jeans.

“So?” she asked.

“She’s surprisingly strong. Probably hasn’t been on her own for over a week or so. No sign of heart-worm. Except for needing a heap of good food, she’s a healthy enough dog. Do we continue?”

The question startled her. “Of course. That’s why I backtracked, why I came to you.”

He turned away and began collecting all kinds of paraphernalia. “Let’s get her on lactated Ringers before we get her cleaned up a bit.”

“Sorry?”

“An IV.” As he moved around the room, he asked, “So what do I call you?”

“Whatever you’d like. I think we can both agree this isn’t going to be a long relationship.”

He grunted, and the sound could have passed as a brief chuckle. “Fine, I’ll entertain myself by guessing until I see your check or credit card.”

“I’ll be paying cash.”

His slight hesitation, a tightening around his mouth, told her that she’d made a mistake. She didn’t yet know how much his fee would be.

“The name’s Ann,” she said, mentally kicking herself.

“As in Ann Doe? No, that would have to be Jane.”

It took an effort not to grit her teeth. “Anna Diaz.”

“Oh, Anna, not Ann.”

“My friends tend to shorten it.”

“Not very good ones. Anna is a beautiful name. Diminish the name, next they’re diminishing the person.”

“Moonlight as a shrink, Doc?”

“Just another student of life. I guessed you were of Spanish or Welsh descent. Your complexion’s too fair for Mexican, lacks the olive tones for Italian. Could be—”

“In a hurry.” She nodded at the dog. “Couldn’t you put her under for whatever it is you’re going to do? I’ll get your money and—”

“You step out of this room and I’ll call the cops.”

Anna stiffened. It wasn’t often that she heard such a threat delivered in a voice so calm and assured. The man knew how to catch a person off guard.

“The cops. Isn’t that a bit drastic?”

“You strike me as too eager to leave, which tells me that either you have no intention of paying me, or else you’re hiding something.”

He couldn’t be more right—and wrong. The urge to laugh, or run, grew. “That’s ridiculous. If I wanted to avoid responsibility or hide anything, I would be thirty miles down the road by now.”

“Then wash up while I put in this IV, and slip on those gloves I set out for you. I’m also going to remove some of these ticks and clean her as much as I can. We don’t need anything crawling inside her while I’m sewing her shut.”

Grateful that at least he showed some concern for the animal, she did as he directed. After soaping her hands, she ran cold water on her wrists to calm down her racing pulse.

“How long is this going to take?” She wrestled with the gloves as she returned to the table. Spotting the jar of blood-swollen insects floating in what she guessed was alcohol, she grimaced.

“Not very, but you can forget about her traveling tonight. We’ll see how she is in the morning.”

Not “we,” she amended silently. By morning, she planned to be hundreds of miles from here. And the first thing she would be doing was looking for a change of vehicles.

Gray closed the lid on the container and deposited it and the tweezers he’d been using in the sink. When he returned he had another injection prepared.