Buck obliged by also stepping back just a few feet, although he was itching to be the one to open the case. He understood,though, that whatever this turned out to be, it was—foremost in the chief’s book—crime-scene evidence. Far be it from him to muddy the OPD’s waters.
More scratching noises came from within the case as the chief squatted, grunted, and worked the zipper.
Buck kept his eyes glued to the valise.
“You did good.” Bobbie surprised Buck, coming up from behind him to take hold of his hand for a squeeze.
He chuckled. “I?—”
She cut him off, her mouth dropping open. “You’re absolutely freezing.”
“Phht. It’s nothing,” Buck told her, but…Dammit. His dismissal wasn’t going to hold water because almost the second after the words were out of his mouth, he was overwhelmed by a violent shiver.
Okay. So he maybe he was alittlecold.
“Blanket?” Bobbie barked, alerting those onlookers behind her that they needed to step up.
An older lady hustled over first, clutching a multi-colored quilt in her hands; one that had clearly seen better days.
“Here you go. You can keep this. It was my grandmother’s, and I know it’s full of moth holes, but it’s still plenty warm. I’ve been hanging onto it just in case…” Tears filled her eyes and she sniffed. “This is actually absolutely perfect. Gram would be so proud to know her handiwork was helping someone who performed such a dramatic rescue.”
Buck bit back a sigh. He wasn’t sure about his efforts being dramatic, and he’d only be sure of arescueonce the chief got the case open and they could assess the condition of whatever was inside.
Get it open, already, he wanted to shout.
The zipper got stuck a few times, but after a few good tugs the chief was finally able to fully unfasten the topmost flap. He lifted it back, and…
What the hell?
Dogs.
No.Not dogs. Puppies.Tinylittle puppies.
There were four of them nestled inside, and all but one were wriggling their miniature butts to beat the band, clearly happy to be out of their dark, wet prison.
Buck dropped to his knees, his chill immediately forgotten as he looked them over.
The chief was already lifting two of the small creatures out, handing them over to Spencer and Mason, respectively. Ildavorg reached for a third wagger, while Bucks’ hands went to the small, still mound at the bottom of the pile.
It was a tiny white bundle; its matted fluff soaked. As Buck lifted the still body out, his heart fell. The pup wasn’t breathing.
Sending up a quick prayer to whoever might be listening, Buck gave the precious baby a few gentle shakes to see if he could stimulate the motionless pint into responding. When that didn’t work, he started to put the diminutive canine back down to?—
“I’ve got CPR for puppies pulled up,” Bobbie told him fervently, looking at her phone.
That’s just what he’d wanted. Bobbie was a mind reader. He knew people CPR, but understood it had to be different for a tiny little creature.
“Go,” Buck responded with alacrity.
“Place the puppy on its right side.”
Buck swiftly laid the tiny body down as she instructed.
“Okay,” she continued. “Put your thumb and forefinger on his chest at the widest part just behind the front legs.”
“Got it.”
“Give thirty compressions, two per second, then follow that with two rescue breaths, positioning your mouth over his entire snout.”
