Mrs. Pinon reached for the small white shape attached to Kaylas hand. Muffin, let go of Dr. Dailee. The elderly women wrapped both hands around the angry dog. Stop playing, its time to work now. She picked up the petite fur ball who unclenched its jaws, releasing Kaylas hand just as her cell phone rang.
"Excuse me a moment." Kayla said putting her injured finger in her mouth and using the other hand to reach for her phone. She tasted copper as she spoke around her hand. "Hello?"
"Of course, dear." Mrs. Pinon put her spoiled pet down on the expensive Persian carpet. "Do you need a bandage?"
Kayla shook her head as she pulled out and examined her injured nail. The phone call took two minutes, Kayla replying to the caller with a string of affirmatives, as her elderly client poured more tea from the elegant teapot on the low table between them.
With one hand Mrs. Pinion intercepted an inquisitive button nose. "No Muffin, you dont like tea." The small white dog took two steps back, and barked. "No, baby, your teacher is on the phone. You know she works with the police. It could be important, so hush now, well get back to you in a moment. "The dog lowered his head and growled, letting out a series of sharp demands that his owner reacted to by reaching into a porcelain jar next to the sofa and extracting several dog treats. She fed one to Muffin, and then offered additional treats to several other small, furry children who appeared as soon as the jars lid was raised.
"Mrs. Pinon, we will have to continue this session later," Kayla said in the formal tone she adopted when speaking to her elderly clients. "There has been an emergency, and I have to go, "
Las Vegas Chedw
“I’m sure Amy would never have hurt the Shaman.” Keith looked over her shoulder, comparing the nursing notes from the month before. “Maybe someone was after his book. So we won’t need to use the appetite drug?”
“No, not as long as Steve keeps this up. What book?”
“The Shaman was writing a book about old legends and hidden treasures. I just can’t get Steve interested in food more than once every seven days.”
“How many mice is he eating?”
“Usually, only two a week, though he did eat three once.”.
They discussed the reptile’s eating habits for another ten minutes before Kayla firmly brought the conversation to a close and escorted him out of the office, knowing that Keith could, and would talk snakes, for hours on end.
The rest of the day went well filled with the comfortable routine of veterinary care. Seeing clients, taking care of a canine spay, a feline neuter and paperwork.
Once the Closed sign was flipped and the doors locked, she took one last turn around the kennels, checking on the overnight visitors and patients and making sure the kennel staff understood all feeding instructions. Lastly, she checked the poor ferret that was scheduled for anesthesia and a barium x-ray series to check its gastrointestinal system the next day, then headed out.
“Al, we have a cat problem.”
“Come in, David.” Al stepped back, allowing the older man to squeeze in and take a third folding chair. “What type of problem?”
“A lion up on Calico Ridge.”
“A mountain lion? Are you sure?”
David nodded and took a swig from his water bottle before answering. “Yeah, I saw its tracks, they’re all over up there.”
“You’re sure they’re puma tracks?” broke in Roger.
“Were there any people tracks?” Kayla interrupted Roger’s next question “Could you tell how large the cat is or if it only has three legs?”
David shook his head. “There are a lot of tracks up there. Overlapping and scuffed up some. Don’t think there were any human traces.”
Kayla rose from her chair. “Can you show me where? Take me there?”
Roger grasped Kayla by the arm. “Hold on. How far is the ridge?”
“Bout six miles. We could do three miles in a good truck.” David said.
Perhaps."
“Bout six miles." David said. "We could do the first three in a good truck.”
“What’s the terrain like?” Roger asked as he stood. “Can we make it there and back before nightfall?”
“Steep most of the way. It’s up high on the mountain.”
Al spoke up. “Be better if we plan the trip for tomorrow. I’ll put together a team, arrange for vehicles and meet you all back here at five in the morning. That should get us up to the ridge just after sunrise,”
Is it illegal to break into a dead mans back yard? Probably, but I’m still on this case. They can’t object to me wanting more information on how Amy was being taken care of. Even if it is midnight. At least, I hope they can’t.
Leaving her car a few houses down the block, Kayla nonchalantly made her way to the Winnemucca house. She had Reno with her, she was walking her dog. Right.
Reno stopped at a tree, sniffing and leaving his own message on the trunk as Kayla looked around the older neighborhood. The only light that concerned her was a second floor window: a bed room, she guessed. Some insomniac staying up late to watch TV or read. She hoped whoever it was didn’t decide to look out of their window.
“Kenneth, you said that Winnemucca had a hypnotic in his blood?”
Kenneth nodded without looking up from the menu. “Yes.” He flipped the menu over and studied the drinks on the back.
Kayla closed her menu and peered across the table at the dectetive. “It wasn’t Ambien by any chance, was it?”
Kenneth froze for almost five seconds, then lifted his head and looked Kayla in the eyes. “How did you know?” He carefully set his menu down on the table.
Before Kayla had a chance to reply, the waiter was back delivering the wine with all due ceremony, and receiving their orders. She had chicken taco’s, he had the crab enchilada.
“How did you know what hypotonic was in his blood stream?” Kenneth asked after the waiter left.
Kayla laced her fingers together and leaned her elbows on the table. “I recently found out about three guard dogs who were poisoned by the same drug. One died.”
Kenneth’s eyebrows rose. “What were they guarding?” He picked up his wine glass and started to take a sip.
“An empty field.”
The glass halted halfway to Kenneth’s lips. “What?” He set the glass back down on the table and locked gazes with Kayla. “Are you sure about this?”
Kayla pushed the book masquerading as a menu aside and leaned across the table, staring Kenneth in his thickly lashed dark eyes. “Alright, time to come clean here buddy. You're not just a cop are you? I mean you know the waiters' names, get seated at the best table, and they know what you drink? This is not the first time you've come here is it?”
“No.” Kenneth smiled at her and took her hand. “I don’t know how to break this to you but... I am sort of... rich.”
“Sort of?”
“Well okay, as the only living son of a very wealthy family, I never have to worry about money.”
“So, you really do own all those cars?” Kayla had thought maybe he had been renting them to impress her.
“I love fine automobiles.”
“Wait a minute; you're not one of the Wingates that own half the casinos on the strip... are you?”
“Well...” Kenneth took a drink from his amber glass. “Yes.”
“Holy Cow! What are you doing in Metro?”
Kenneth ran his finger around the rim of his glass. “A man’s got to work doesn’t he?”
Kayla shook her head emphatically. “Not you.”
Kenneth sighed and took another sip. “I need something to do with my time, I bore easily.” Cory interrupted him, presenting him with a bottle for his inspection. Kenneth studied it, then nodded and completed the ritual tasting. “That will do fine, thank you.”
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