Home Is Where the Bark Is (18 page)

“Uh. Thank you but—”

“Or Serena could . . .”

Nick could not be sure, but he thought he intercepted a sly wink between Kylie and the other women. Damn but he hated the way females carried on like this—just like those matchmaking women in the valley. He chose to ignore the innuendo. Was annoyed at the narrowed-eye glance from Adam that clearly warned him not to get involved.

“I need to speak to Serena first before I take Mack to the surgeon,” he said to Kylie. “Is she around?”

Kylie nodded in the direction of Serena’s office. “Locked in her office. She won’t come out and won’t let any of us in. She does this sometimes when she wants a break to do paperwork but not usually for this long.”

Serena had seemed fine when he’d snatched a word with her about Mack this morning. “Is something wrong?” he asked.

“She wouldn’t say. Not even to her friend Jenna, here.” Kylie indicated the brown-haired woman.

“Organic-dog-treats friend Jenna?” Nick said.

The woman looked startled. “Yes,” she said. “How did you know that?”

She glanced surreptitiously at Kylie. But Nick did not miss how both women’s eyes narrowed in that devious female way he as a thirty-two-year-old bachelor had come to recognize and dread. He especially didn’t want them playing that game about him and Serena in front of Adam.

“Serena told me,” he said, knowing immediately that had given them fuel for their speculation.

This time Kylie gave a swift knowing nod. “Yeah, I heard you guys had lunch on Saturday.”

“We had a strategy meeting regarding Mack, yes,” he said. “When we were discussing his care she suggested I might buy some of Jenna’s products for Mack.”

“As if,” said Jenna. She laughed, showing perfect teeth. Serena’s friend was not unattractive in a stolid kind of way, though nowhere near Serena’s level of looks.

But then, who could touch Serena? He felt sick to the depths of his belly that today was the last time he would see her.

“Mack wouldn’t do organic food the favor of even a sniff,” said Kylie. “He must think Jenna’s doughnuts are the real thing. It’s junk food all the way for him. I suppose Serena has told you that?”

“Of course,” said Nick. “I intend to train him out of that bad habit.” He did not appreciate the looks of suppressed mirth his words elicited on the faces of the two women.

Kylie’s dimples were back in full force. “Have fun trying.”

Under Adam’s FBI-trained poker face, he looked bewildered. Nick would have to fill him on the vagaries of his new dog’s diet.

Kylie turned to Adam with a calculating look in her eyes. How long would it take before she found out his business partner was single? He was divorced and more than a bit bitter about the opposite sex.

Kylie dimpled up at Adam. “Nick’s new dog is a junk-food fiend,” she explained.

“Really?” said Adam with a tell-me-more expression.

Nick grit his teeth. It took all his own training to contain his impatience. He did not have time to waste on chitchat. He’d cultivated Kylie, but as he was about to cut his ties to Paws-A-While, he saw no need to continue.

He just wanted to see Serena. His gut nagged that there was something wrong. Then again, she might just want peace and quiet away from these women. And who could blame her? Maybe they’d been baiting
her
about
him
?

Finally, he made a decisive move in the direction of Serena’s office. “I’m going in.”

“I’ll wait here for you with the ladies,” said Adam.

Good. With the no-touch-dogs-other-than-your-own policy it would be difficult to check out the collars on the other animals without making a big deal of it. Maybe Adam could take up where Nick had left off working on Kylie. His partner could flirt with the best of them when it came to extracting information from suspects. He’d soon find a way to suss out those collars.

He knocked on the door of Serena’s office, right next to the black metal sign where the outline of a Scottish terrier sat astride letters that spelled out The Boss.

“I told you, I don’t want to be disturbed.” Even muffled through the door her voice had a ragged edge to it.

“It’s Nick. I’ve come for Mack,” he said.

There was a pause. When her voice came again it was as chilly as the winds that swept the valley just before the first snowfall. “Kylie will help you with him.”

Nick frowned. Was she on to him? Had he given himself away on Saturday? “I need to talk to you about Mack.”

No way would he stand outside this door, calling out to her while a too-interested audience monitored his every move. He tried the handle. It wasn’t locked. He shouldered the door open and went in, shutting it behind him.

Serena sat behind her desk. Alarm stabbed him when he saw how pale and distraught she looked as she raised her head to meet his stunned gaze. It seemed to cost her a tremendous effort. Her hair was disheveled, and he got the distinct impression that she’d been resting her head on her arms in a pose of despair when he’d knocked on the door. It seemed as if all the vibrancy and life had been drained from her.

“I asked you not to come in.” No doubt she intended her words to sound authoritative but they came out a forced croak.

“For God’s sake, what’s wrong?” Every protective instinct he had surged to the fore and he had to stop himself from striding to her desk so he could put his arm around her and comfort her.

But he was here to end it with her. Not to complicate matters further.

Serena put her right hand up in a halt sign. He noticed it wasn’t steady. “Don’t come any further.” Her eyes were dull, flat pools, her pupils so black and huge they virtually eclipsed the honey-colored iris.

“Serena—what the hell has happened?”

She took a deep, shuddering breath. Now those eyes were narrowed in accusation. Not just accusation but also hurt and betrayal. And all aimed at him.

She choked out the words. “You mean you don’t know?”

 

 

The
last person Serena wanted to see was Nick Whalen. But now that he’d pushed his way into her office, she wasn’t going to back away from confrontation.

His reply to her question was a terse “no.”

But who knew what thoughts were cogitating behind that implacable façade?

She realized how very little she knew about this man who had taken up so much of her thoughts since the day—was it less than a week ago?—he first strode through the doors of Paws-A-While clutching his cute little dog. Was it a coincidence that so much had gone wrong since he became a client?

She hadn’t trusted him from the get-go. Had let her guard down on Saturday, lulled by the warmth in his eyes and the good feelings generated by his kind deed for Mack. That had been a bad mistake.

“You spent a lot of time on my computer on Friday.” She did not attempt to keep the accusation out of her voice. How dumb was she to have given him access to her files.

At last a reaction. His jaw tightened. She swore it did. Though those cold blue eyes gave nothing away.

“I read your veterinary reports on Mack,” he said. “You know that. In fact you invited me to. I spent some time discovering the difference between the traditional ligament repair that the vet recommends and the newer tibial plateau leveling osteotomy. I think the vet is right, by the way.” His voice remained level and calm.

“You didn’t look at anything else? Access any accounts? Ferret out my social security number?”

There wasn’t a flicker of hesitation before he answered, just the movement of his shoulders as he rolled them and put his hands behind his back. “No.”

She sighed heavily. What was the point? Every time she voiced her suspicions about Nick he dispelled them with a glib answer. She had reason to believe he had trawled through her business folders on the computer. No doubt if she was more cyber savvy, she could find a way to prove it. But in the scheme of things right now, how important was it?

Nick moved closer to her desk. For a man with such a broad-shouldered athletic build he was light on his feet. She pushed herself back in her chair until her spine pressed into the chair back and the chair dug against the wall behind her. Standing over her he seemed so big, so intimidating. So overwhelmingly male. But she was too weary to rise from her chair so they were on a more equal footing.

“What is it? A problem with your computer? Or is something wrong with your parents? Maddy? Snowball?”

How quickly he’d learned what was important to her. Under other circumstances that would have pleased her.

She shook her head slowly from side to side. She’d barricaded herself in her office so she wouldn’t have to face the staff and their inevitable questions.
Go!
she wanted to scream at Nick. But she didn’t have the energy. She just wanted to be left alone to take in the shocking, shuddering impact of what had happened.

“Serena! Tell me.” His voice was abrupt with the same edge of interrogation that had put her on edge from the first time she’d heard it. But she felt too numb to care. What was the point of holding back?

Her head felt like it was too heavy for her neck and it was an effort to raise it so she could meet his gaze. “Remember what happened to the Godfreys? The identity fraud thing? Now it’s happened to me.”

She heard the breath expel in a whoosh from his lungs. Fancied she felt its warmth on her skin. Heard his knuckles crack but did not have the energy to comment.

“What do you mean it’s happened to you?”

Now his hands were fisted by his sides. She found herself focusing on his right fist. It was so big. She bet he could do some damage with that fist.

She took a deep breath, but she didn’t seem to be able to fill her lungs sufficiently to control her voice. “The bank called me. My accounts cleared out from four different branches. My credit cards to the max. Stuff bought that I wouldn’t buy in a million years. Especially when I’m putting every cent I have into my business. Huh! Now I don’t have a cent. Might not . . . might not have a business.” Her voice rose to a tremulous wobble at the end of her sentence, but she could not seem to be able to bring it down.

He swore. A creative string of words that might have amused her at any other time. His face was grim. That narrow top lip she’d found so sexy was nearly subsumed in the tight set of his mouth. “You’re sure the bank got it right?”

“Oh yes. Insufficient funds to pay Jenna’s September invoice. That’s what the bank guy started off with. And she’s not a big account, believe me.”

“What about your other creditors?”

“Insufficient funds to pay the rent. Insufficient funds to pay the feed bill. Insufficient funds for the payments on the puppy potty. Insufficient funds, insufficient funds . . .”

The words pounded into her brain so her head throbbed.

She closed her eyes, fisted her hands, and rubbed them so hard over her eyelids she thought she could obliterate what had happened and wake up to find the nightmare was over.

But when she opened her eyes Nick was still there, his face contorted by concern and a goodly dose of anger. Maybe he could use those big fists to smash to pieces the crook who had done this to her.

That was, if the crook wasn’t him. He’d been at her computer on Friday. But the biggest withdrawal of her cash had happened at the time he was at lunch with her on Saturday. And if he’d cleared her out, why was he here? Wouldn’t he have headed for the hills?

“Did the bank say how it happened?”

“Someone stole my identity. Just like with the Godfreys. Got my details. Pretended to be me. At first the bank said I’d done it. Overspent. Misused my line of credit. I soon set them straight. But . . . but they say I have to prove it wasn’t me who made the transactions. I don’t know how I can do that.”

“Did you call the police?”

She shuddered. “No way.” And risk getting the cop whose hard mouth said one thing but leering eyes another? “I don’t trust police.”

She didn’t know why she was spilling this to Nick Whalen. Not when she still had such suspicions about him—nothing concrete, just a feeling he had never brought her in on the full story.

But it felt so blessedly good to get it out of her where it had been bottled up and festering since the bank had called three hours ago. After she’d hung up from the bank she’d made call after call only to come up with the same disastrous result. And then two different clients called to withdraw their dogs from Paws-A-While. With Freya and the Cavalier, that made four fee-paying dogs gone.

Nick was the only person she had confided in about the Godfreys and Freya. Now she was in the same boat as they were—capsized and drowning.

It was cold in that place she had so suddenly been tipped into. She shivered.
So cold.
The shivers ran through her until her entire body was trembling. Her teeth started to chatter. She wrapped her arms around herself, but it didn’t help. She tried to talk but her lips were stiff and she couldn’t form the words.

“Serena!”

His voice seemed to come from a long way away. Then he was by her side. Leaning toward her. Close. So close his face filled her vision. So close she could smell his leathery, peppery scent. Too close. His brow creased with concern. She didn’t want his pity. She could handle this. Had to handle this. She pressed back farther in her seat but she had gone as far as she could go.

She braced her hands on the edge of the desk and pushed. Stood too quickly. Felt dizzy, light-headed, nauseous. She gagged, and her breath came in sharp, shallow gasps. She couldn’t seem to fill her lungs. She let go of the desk and staggered instead of stepped. For a heart-stopping second she thought she would fall.

Then Nick caught her. Strong, strong arms wrapped around her and pulled her to his chest. Her breath caught in her throat. She resisted. Struggled. Tried to push him away. But he was so warm, so solid, so reassuring. And she was so darn cold. She stilled. Then released her breath on a long sigh and let herself relax against the solid strength of his body.