The front door flies open, and my mom ushers me inside.
“Will you look at this gift basket we received from the Pendleton family?” she gushes. “It’s even monogrammed! And such a nice note. Oh, why are you crying, Mandy? Salinger told them all about Jaxon, and Mrs. Pendleton is very sorry. See?” My mom rubs my arm. “Everything worked out.” She holds the note up. “Look at that penmanship. I’m always telling you to improve your penmanship. Isn’t that beautiful handwriting?”
“I follow one of the Pendletons on Instagram. Her clothes are so amazing, and she had the snarkiest Insta post about Jaxon,” Amy tells me.
“It doesn’t matter.” I sob. “Pepper is gone. Someone took her.”
“Where’s my gun? Patrick!” Gran hollers.
“Someone let your grandmother buy a gun?” Jess looks concerned.
“She’s not supposed to have one.” My mom runs after Gran.
Jess grabs the box of wine and pours me a glass. I curl up on the couch, clutching my wine.
Lauren throws a blanket over me. “We’re going to shame the Pendletons on social media and get Pepperoni back, don’t you worry.”
“Maybe you should call Salinger,” Amy suggests. “He owes you, right? Bet he could rescue Pepper.”
“Maybe,” I admit. “But that would mean I would have to actually see him, and I don’t know if I can stand it.”
48
SALINGER
“Great,” the animal control employee says. “We accept!”
“But you didn’t even look at the judge’s order.” My lawyer frowns.
“If we can get rid of Princess Whines-a-lot, then I’ve seen enough.” The worker smiles. “Come back this way, and you can identify the dog.”
I walk back through the cages of sad-looking animals. Over the sound of barking comes forlorn howling. There, at the end of the row, is Pepper, huddled in a cage. She’s sitting in her food dish, her water bowl is on her head, and she’s bawling pitifully.
“All weekend,” the woman says as she unlocks the cage. “It’s been like this all weekend.” She pulls on heavy gloves, bracing herself.
Pepper snarls then wags her tail when she realizes I’mthere. She rushes into my arms.
“Oh! That was easy.” The worker beams at me. “You really must be her dad.”
“Sure,” I lie.
The corgi pants and shakes in my arms as I carry her back out.
The worker types rapidly as she processes Pepper’s release paperwork. “That’s going to be three hundred dollars for the boarding fee.”
“You took the dog,” I argue. “Why are you charging me?”
“Seriously, Salinger?” Crawford snaps. “Just pay the fucking fee. Do you all take credit cards?” My brother grabs my wallet from my pocket and swipes the credit card over the card reader.
The screen asks if I would like to make a donation. I think about all the dogs in the cages. Then I shift Pepper to my side and punch in ten thousand dollars.
The worker’s eyes bug out. “Did you mean to…”
“Just take it before I change my mind,” I grumble.
“I see that you, sir, are a pet lover.”
“Not really.”
