being a family again. They had a lot of catching up to do. Wounds needing to heal had festered far too long.
****
Breeana was exhausted when she arrived home late that evening. As manager of her son’s hockey team, she attended every hockey meeting. The meeting tonight had turned into a free-for-all, once the kids’ parents started arguing about fundraising and the team budget. The get-together droned on for hours.
A headache throbbed behind her eyes. She needed some aspirin. The truth was, she still hadn’t heard from Sully and there wasn’t anything on the radio about Rainey’s death. Couldn’t the blasted man keep her informed? Was it too much to ask?
She sighed, recognizing the unfairness of her complaints. He had a job to do, after all, and it didn’t include reporting back to her about the case. If she was really honest with herself, she would admit she wanted to hear the sound of his voice.
Plugging in the kettle, she sank to a chair while waiting for the water to boil, willing all wayward thoughts of the lieutenant out of her mind. Tea and aspirin in hand, she eventually dragged herself upstairs and along the hallway.
Opening the door to Cody’s room, she peered inside. Always the mother bear, she needed to see her cub tucked in his boy cave, even if the cub in question was fast becoming a man, already five inches taller than her and outweighing her by fifty-five pounds.
Bruiser and Bear lay sprawled on the opposite side of the queen-size bed where Cody snored softly. The dogs lifted their heads and eyed her through heavy-lidded gazes. It was pointless to demand they get off the bed. Boys will be boys and dogs will be dogs. It was easier to turn a blind eye and save her battles for the important stuff.
After showering, Breeana tumbled into her own bed. Lying in the dark, she listened to a June squall gusting across the lake and the rain pounding the dormer roof in a staccato rhythm. She loved the smell of rain, but not tonight. She rose and cranked the windows closed, locking them, an uneasiness gripping her as she gazed across the lawn and down to the black expanse of Lac St-Louis.
The normal sounds of the house settling took on an ominous feel. She was grateful for the distraction when her phone rang; however, she did breathe a sigh of relief to hear her answering service.
“Dr. McGill, I’m sorry to bother you so late but there’s been an accident. We have a report of a dog hit out on Highway 20 in the storm. The police are requesting to transport to you for surgery.”
Breeana slid open the wardrobe door and hauled out some clothes. “What’s the status on the dog?”
“A probable broken leg and several lacerations.”
“Tell them to come ahead. I’ll be at the clinic in fifteen minutes.” She disconnected, tossed the phone on the bed, and dressed in sweats and a rain jacket before scribbling a fast note to Cody to leave under a magnet on the fridge.
The storm battered her SUV as she drove. Lightning cracked, illuminating the road ahead as she white-knuckled the drive along Lakeshore in record time. She swerved into the parking lot and braked to a halt. No sign of the police transport vehicle yet.
Punching her code into the security system, Breeana rushed inside, switched on lights as she jogged down the corridor, and hurried to do the surgery set-up. The walk-in buzzer sounded as she retrieved surgical instruments from the autoclave. Seconds later, the lights went out, plunging the surgery into darkness.
“Hello? Is anyone there?”
No answer.
Her eyes cut to the angled blinds where streetlights still penetrated the slats. Her brain kicked into gear, her sixth sense sounding the D-A-N-G-E-R alarm. This was no ordinary power failure.
Someone had cut the electricity inside the clinic, someone out in the pitch-black reception area where the breaker box was located. And she’d bet her bottom dollar…he hadn’t brought in a dog with a broken leg for treatment.
Breeana berated
****
Breeana was exhausted when she arrived home late that evening. As manager of her son’s hockey team, she attended every hockey meeting. The meeting tonight had turned into a free-for-all, once the kids’ parents started arguing about fundraising and the team budget. The get-together droned on for hours.
A headache throbbed behind her eyes. She needed some aspirin. The truth was, she still hadn’t heard from Sully and there wasn’t anything on the radio about Rainey’s death. Couldn’t the blasted man keep her informed? Was it too much to ask?
She sighed, recognizing the unfairness of her complaints. He had a job to do, after all, and it didn’t include reporting back to her about the case. If she was really honest with herself, she would admit she wanted to hear the sound of his voice.
Plugging in the kettle, she sank to a chair while waiting for the water to boil, willing all wayward thoughts of the lieutenant out of her mind. Tea and aspirin in hand, she eventually dragged herself upstairs and along the hallway.
Opening the door to Cody’s room, she peered inside. Always the mother bear, she needed to see her cub tucked in his boy cave, even if the cub in question was fast becoming a man, already five inches taller than her and outweighing her by fifty-five pounds.
Bruiser and Bear lay sprawled on the opposite side of the queen-size bed where Cody snored softly. The dogs lifted their heads and eyed her through heavy-lidded gazes. It was pointless to demand they get off the bed. Boys will be boys and dogs will be dogs. It was easier to turn a blind eye and save her battles for the important stuff.
After showering, Breeana tumbled into her own bed. Lying in the dark, she listened to a June squall gusting across the lake and the rain pounding the dormer roof in a staccato rhythm. She loved the smell of rain, but not tonight. She rose and cranked the windows closed, locking them, an uneasiness gripping her as she gazed across the lawn and down to the black expanse of Lac St-Louis.
The normal sounds of the house settling took on an ominous feel. She was grateful for the distraction when her phone rang; however, she did breathe a sigh of relief to hear her answering service.
“Dr. McGill, I’m sorry to bother you so late but there’s been an accident. We have a report of a dog hit out on Highway 20 in the storm. The police are requesting to transport to you for surgery.”
Breeana slid open the wardrobe door and hauled out some clothes. “What’s the status on the dog?”
“A probable broken leg and several lacerations.”
“Tell them to come ahead. I’ll be at the clinic in fifteen minutes.” She disconnected, tossed the phone on the bed, and dressed in sweats and a rain jacket before scribbling a fast note to Cody to leave under a magnet on the fridge.
The storm battered her SUV as she drove. Lightning cracked, illuminating the road ahead as she white-knuckled the drive along Lakeshore in record time. She swerved into the parking lot and braked to a halt. No sign of the police transport vehicle yet.
Punching her code into the security system, Breeana rushed inside, switched on lights as she jogged down the corridor, and hurried to do the surgery set-up. The walk-in buzzer sounded as she retrieved surgical instruments from the autoclave. Seconds later, the lights went out, plunging the surgery into darkness.
“Hello? Is anyone there?”
No answer.
Her eyes cut to the angled blinds where streetlights still penetrated the slats. Her brain kicked into gear, her sixth sense sounding the D-A-N-G-E-R alarm. This was no ordinary power failure.
Someone had cut the electricity inside the clinic, someone out in the pitch-black reception area where the breaker box was located. And she’d bet her bottom dollar…he hadn’t brought in a dog with a broken leg for treatment.
Breeana berated
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