It’s not hard to sneak back into the system as Travis, and this time I have something to start with. I check the dogs he took with him today, and see them placed with two different fosters. That doesn’t make sense, but according to the system, both the fosters have been accepting multiple dogs per year for several years. Maybe it’s just an error. Travis isn’t exactly an IT wizard. I’d ask him, but I don’t want him thinking that I’m snooping.
Which I am, obviously, buthedoesn’t need to know that.
The longer I stare at the entries, the more annoying it is that there’s an error and I can’t fix it. Wait. I click to see the registrations for the foster homes. That can’t be right. They’re both listed at the same address. Once I start looking, I find more. At least five separate foster homes are all in the same house.
There's no way Travis doesn't know about this.
I go in to check their adoption rate. Zero. But stranger than that, it’s like the entries are broken. There’s a record of transfer, but then it’s like they vanish into the system. What the hell is he doing?
Pulling out my phone, I tap the address of the foster home into my map and save it.
Something fishy is going on, but is it bad, or is he like me, going outside the system to help dogs he’s worried about?
18
SANDRA
I glanceover at Travis's office. He's working, head down and focused. Hopefully busy enough that he won't question me.
"Kennels are done. We're running low on the special diet kibble," I call out to him as I take the keys for the van off the hook. "I'm going to go out and get a couple of bags. Are you okay keeping an eye open while I'm out?"
He doesn't even look up, just waves a hand. "Sure. I'm here a while."
Remembering my duty, I pull my phone out and tap a message.
Me:This is me messaging like a good girl to let you know I’m going out to pick up some dog food and check out a foster home.
Piston:Was that so hard?
Me:Yes.
Zero:Poor baby, we’ll kiss it better later.
Beast:Thanks for the headsup. :) Guys really, how do I turn off the notification sound?
I grab the keys to the van and run by the bulk store first. We weren’t really that low, but it would look strange if I came back with nothing and there was no receipt.
This feels like the plot of a cozy mystery. Local girl who works at a dog rescue comes up with a zany plan to bring down fake foster homes for puppies. I’ve probably watched too many real crime shows. Our whole software system is basically five spreadsheets in a trench coat wrapped together under an interface someone developed ten years ago. Every time something goes wrong, Travis has to call an ex-volunteer’s cousin in Vancouver.
But the dogs.
I have to at least drive by and see. My phone sends me deeper into the Ditch, past a cluster of office buildings and then into an area that's more warehouses and a self-storage place before I end up out the other side and in a residential neighborhood. It's not sketchy exactly, but it's definitely not where people with money end up buying. The lots are fairly big, though, so that might make sense if they take in a lot of dogs. Some of the houses look cared for, but most haven’t seen updates since at least the seventies.
The GPS takes me down a side street. The foster home looks like it should be at the very end of it. There are a half dozen cars spread out between the driveway and the road. Because it’s the last house, it has an even larger property than most. I see at least one dog tied up out front. I pull up in front of it, and consider my plan.
It's a bad plan, I know that, but I’m not trying to actively invade their house or anything. I’ll just go up there, say one of the dogs needs special diet and drop off a bag to make sure they have enough. Worst case scenario here is that I’m going to feel like anidiot and they tell me to leave. I can always say I must've gotten the wrong address out of our files.
Just to be sure though…
Me:[sends location] If I vanish, this is the murder house.
Piston:What the fuck?
Me:Kidding!
I close my eyes, draw a deep breath for courage, then push the driver-side door open. Then I grab one of the bags of dog food from the back to bring to the front door. The dog out front just lifts their head and watches, but before I even get to the top of the front steps, I hear barking. Nothing alarming, but at least a few dogs.
I ring the doorbell.
