“Carrie, my dear! How are you?” Dean Landau says from behind the plexiglass. I’m on the other side, at the desk, my headset on, water covering the front of my shirt. Even behind the glass, I feel a massive jerk of terror. My blood rushes to my hands and feet like it’s trying to escape.
I force myself to smile at him.
Claudia gives me a look of such disdainful condescension I want to shatter the glass and punch her with a chew toy.
“I’m fine,” I gasp, still struggling to breathe through my coughing.
“I didn’t know you worked here. Side job?” he asks, gracing Marny with a dazzling, charming smile.
I feel her melt a little. No, really. There’s a puddle of Marny next to me, all gooey and sweetened by the dean’s attentions. If I didn’t know the truth about him, I’d be gazing adoringly at him, too.
“No. I volunteer.”
His face morphs into something deeply solemn. “Oh, my goodness. What a wonderful example you are to young women everywhere.” The dean gives Claudia a sharp look. “Some people could learn from you.”
Claudia pretends not to hear him.
“How can I help you?” Marny asks, jumping up and smoothing her t-shirt.
“We’re here to see the pit bulls,” he answers with a disarming smile.
Even Marny freezes at that. Pit bulls are the hard dogs to have at a no-kill shelter. Everyone thinks they’re killing machines. Most of them are sweet dogs. The ones who end up here, though, are often dumped on us by owners who train them to attack and then are surprised when they do attack, and hurt someone.
Then the owners are told by their landlords they have to get rid of the dogs.
Marny’s smile widens. “Oh, how wonderful! What a sweet man you are.”
I hold back a choking cough. “Sweet man” and “sex slave trafficker” don’t exactly go together in my book.
The dean gives her an impatient smile. He turns to me. “Carrie, will you show me your pit bulls? I’d like to pick one out to take home and adopt.”
Now, if the dean really is a drug lord or a sex slave trafficker or just generally an evil, evil man, the last place I’d expect him is at Adoption Day at the no-kill shelter.
Plus, it’s not like he needs the discount on the adoption fees. I’ve grown up with Claudia in my classes most of my life. They’re well off.
My hinky meter was already on because of Mark’s warning, but now it’s blaring.
“I want a goldendoodle,” Claudia sniffs, clearly disappointed.
“You chose the last dog,” the dean says with a low chuckle. “It’s my turn.”
“Why not adopt both?” Marny chirps.
Claudia gives her such a vicious look of rage that I think I can taste Marny’s sudden tears. “Why don’t you do your job and quit interfering in our conversation,” Claudia says with a snarl.
Marny turns away and picks up her headset, pressing the mute button and pretending she’s answering phones. I know she’s really struggling not to cry. People who volunteer in animal shelters are generally super sensitive, sweet, warm people who have big hearts. We’re not accustomed to being treated like that.
I open my mouth to say something back to The Claw, but the dean beats me to it. He pulls on Claudia’s arm and yanks her to the side. As I walk out of the receptionist’s box I give Marny a side hug.
By the time I come around to the other side of the glass case, Claudia’s gone.
“Shall we?” the dean says. “I’ll follow you.”
Every hair on my body is standing on end. I walk down the hallway. All eyes fall on us. I know the people waiting to look at animals are really looking at Dean Landau. He cuts an impressive figure. He’s wearing a suit, jacket still buttoned. I smell his aftershave, even though he’s behind me.
He trailing me that close.
I grab some keys off the wall rack and go to the back cages. The scent of pee and bleach hits us hard as we go out to the small enclosure where the dogs can wander outside in their half-inside, half-outside cages.
Three pit bulls sit on their dog beds, jaws on their paws, looking decidedly non-threatening. One is all-white with a black nose and the other two are ginger and white.
One of the ginger dogs rises as if standing at attention.
The dean smiles. “He knows his boss when he sees him,” he says, giving me a wink.
My stomach roils.
“I’ll take him,” the dean says without another second’s hesitation. “Send him to my house.” He pulls out a stack of cash bound by an expensive-looking money clip and peels three one hundred dollar bills off.
“Uh,” is all I can say. I’m dumbfounded as the dean’s fingers brush against mine. The acrid scent of money fills my nose.
“Is that enough? I don’t want him clipped.”
“Clipped?” The pit bull doesn’t need to be groomed. What does he mean?
“I want his testicles to remain,” Dean Landau explains. With his light accent, the word sounds melodic, like he’s talking about something other than a pair of dog’s balls.
“Ah,” I choke out.
“He needs to be aggressive. A good guard dog.” The dean’s eyes brighten and his smile widens. No one else can see his face but me and the dogs. As he grins, his eyes turn into two black pools of nothing but mesmerizing focus.
I feel like he’s eating my soul with those eyes.
Bzzzzzzz.
My phone makes my ass vibrate and I leap into the air, scared by the sensation. When my foot lands, it falls on its side. A long line of pain shoots up from my ankle. I make a sound of surprise.
Dean Landau’s hands are on my elbows in a flash, holding me up. I cringe. Something about him freaks me right the fuck out.
And you know I’m unhinged when I start cursing.
“Yes,” I say. “I mean, no. No. Three hundred dollars is too much.” I step back, out of his range, and he lets go of my elbows.
“Then consider whatever is too much to be a donation to this worthy cause.” He stands there, unsmiling, his eyes still on me.
I stop breathing.
“You seem…upset,” he continues.
I just stare at him.
“Is this about your missing friend?”
The world locks. Nothing moves. I am immobile.
“Carrie, I’m so sorry about your friend,” he says. “I do have to say, though, that you were invited to take the job because so many professors and staff members found you to be a responsible person. The alumni interviewer strongly encouraged me to hire you. Yesterday you had some sort of problem in the office with a professor and disappeared.”
What? How did he know that? Why is he talking about this? It occurs to me that he came to the animal shelter today because he knew I’d be here.
He frowns. “I need to know that you are committed to the job. Your father’s past transgressions don’t have to affect you. I want to make certain you understand there is a blank slate where I am concerned.”
Whoa.
My blood begins to boil. How dare he bring up my dad. How dare he patronize me. I’ll take a thousand condescending looks from Claudia over one more second of this smug asshole looking at me like he’s forgiving me for missing the rest of yesterday at work.
As if it’s not his fault.
“Thank you,” I say in a tight voice. I know the drill. I know how this works. I have to pretend. Knowing what I know now about Mark, it’s even more important that I pretend. Mark is getting closer to bringing the dean in. Closer to finding out how he’s smuggling all these women across the border.
Closer to finding Amy and getting her back whole and alive.
I can’t jeopardize that. All I want to do is to scream in the dean’s face, but I can’t.
“You’re welcome. You’ve only been home for a week, and I’m sure once you’re back in the office, you can get on your feet and master the job.”
As if we’re talking about the job.
“Did you find the right beast?” snaps a woman’s voice. I turn.
The Claw. I take a good look at her.
She’s dressed in five-inch stilettos, a long leather coat that must be sweltering in this heat, and wears more makeup than a clown at a cheap traveling carnival.
“I did. A fine dog named…” The dean peers at me, narrowing his eyes. “What is his name?”
I look at the card next to the cage latch. The dog wandered outside. I can’t see him now. He has no idea he’s about to get his forever home.
“Wizard,” I say, reading the card. “He’s seven years old, and—”
Claudia snorts. “Papa, you picked him on purpose, didn’t you?”
The dean laughs. It’s the most genuine sound I think I’ve ever heard from him. “No, Claudia. I did not pick him on purpose. I took one look at the three dogs and he was the best.”
“What’s so funny?” I ask as they both chuckle.
Claudia’s smile fades as she looks at me and gives me a nasty smirk.
“Wizard. It’s Papa’s nickname.”
“What a coincidence,” I murmur.
The dean waves his hand. “Life is nothing but a series of random incidents we cannot even begin to understand. And there are always patterns deeper than we can see.”
Oh, you can tell he is a professor. All that blah blah blah. My body is tingling with danger and all I want to do is to get away from these two people. Funny how I’m in a cage with three pit bulls inches away and more than twenty other not-so-safe dogs, but the beings I fear most are right here, standing tall on two legs.
I trust the dogs more than the people.
“Can we go? I need to get to the spa for my threading session,” Claudia whines.
The dean doesn’t answer. Just looks at me and blinks. “You’ll take care of the adoption of the pit bull?”
“I’ll make sure Wizard ends up exactly where he belongs,” I assure him.
And with that, they leave.
My head starts spinning again.