“I know, okay? But dropping by foster homes is a part of the job. The worst thing that’s ever happened to me is getting food poisoning from someone who made me eat their leftover lasagne.”
Piston puts his palm on Beast's chest, signaling for him to pull back. Beast nods.
I make sure she’s listening to me. "Sandra, we’re gonna bring you back to the club where you can stick around until we’re comfortable that you aren’t going to have a panic attack. Andthen later? We’ll talk about this. I feel like I was real fucking clear this morning, but maybe we need to go over it again. You don't do anything like this without us. Is that clear?”
She nods.
"Say it."
"I won’t do anything without you."
"Good girl. Now let's go home."
Piston raises his hand. "You guys go ahead. I got a loose end to tie up before I catch up. I'll be quick." His tone is casual, but I've seen that look on his face before. I have my suspicions, but I'm not gonna worry Sandra. She's been through more than enough today.
Beast catches my eye, and I know he's caught it too. "You want a hand?" he asks like they're making a beer run or something.
"Nah, I'm good. You guys see to Sandra, and I'll be there soon."
"Sounds good. See ya at the club then."
It’s probably just as well that Sandra is distracted and not putting two and two together. Some things are better saved for later.
20
PISTON
When I walkinto the dog shelter, Travis doesn't even look up from his desk. "That you, Sandra? What took you so long?"
"She got detained."
That gets Travis's head snapping up. “Can I help you?”
I let him stew in it for a while, watching the fear build. I’m not real good at covering my feelings when it comes to abuse. Animal or human.
“Wh—where’s Sandra? Is she okay?”
"She’s fine. No fucking thanks to you." I walk right to the edge of his desk so he has to look up at me. I take a little pleasure in seeing him swallow nervously.
He's starting to sweat a little. "Good. Good. Is she here?"
Looking like the kind of guy that doesn’t mind a little casual murder can make some things more difficult, but when my intentions match the outside? It comes in real handy.
I plop my ass onto the edge of his desk. He doesn't look happy about it, but doesn't say anything. "Got a couple questions for you, Trav. Do you mind if I call you that?"
"Uh, nobody really… It’s fine though. Ask away."
"Great, Trav. I’m here because the way you do business has led to someone I care about getting upset.”
“I haven’t done anything to Sandra, if that’s what you’re implying. We went out a couple times. That’s it!”
“Interesting.” The urge to murder him just went up a notch. “But not what I meant. Unless I’ve greatly misunderstood something, you’ve been doing business with a guy named Zeke.”
He goes white as a sheet. "No, fuck, I can explain. I didn't?—"
“Sandra figured out something was going on. She didn’t know what, though, and wanted to give you the benefit of the doubt. That led to her taking a little drive to make sure all the doggies were safe and sound.”
“Shit. Look, I can explain.”
