Whirlwind (13 page)

“Ugh.” Jas fanned the air. “Garlic breath.”

“I swear.” With a roll of his eyes, he pulled a pack of gum from his pocket. “I knew
Lucy
was a princess.” He popped a piece in his mouth and chewed noisily. “Better?”

She nodded.

“Okay, back to my question. You think Hugh’s behind the donation fiasco, don’t you?”

Jas stared at him. “Are you serious?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Because I thought …”

“No one would believe you?”

“Exactly.”

“Let’s find out.” Chase leaped up, his lanky frame towering over those who were seated. Putting two fingers in his mouth, he whistled shrilly. When the others stopped talking, he said, “Jas and I think Hugh is behind the drop in donations. It makes sense. Four businesses stopping their donations in one week is too much of a coincidence.”

Jas glanced around, noticing a lot of dubious expressions.

“We all know the Robicheauxs have a lot of influence in town,” Chase continued. “Hugh might be getting back at Jas for …”

Jas tugged on his pant leg, warning him not to blab too much.

“… finding out about Shadow being Aladdin.”

“That makes no sense,” Dr. Danvers said. “Someone in Hugh’s position hires powerful lawyers to win his fights for him.”

“Really,” Lucy said. “I work for Mrs. Vandevender. She has good things to say about Hugh. And she’s nice. All rich people aren’t snotty and cruel.”

Chase’s neck reddened and he abruptly sat
down. “Thanks for trying,” Jas whispered. “I don’t deserve such a great friend.”

He grinned. “You’re right.”

Grandfather rapped his cane on the floor. “I agree with ’ase and Jas,” he declared. “Hugh is a sneaky snake.”

Jas gave him a grateful look.

“Well, we already know he’s hired top-notch lawyers,” Miss Hahn said. “And the kids are right: Hugh will stop at nothing to win. However, the truth of the matter is that the farm is running out of money. The reason doesn’t matter. We have one month of operating budget left. After that …” She faltered.

Jas held her breath. The “after that” was too horrible to think about.

Miss Hahn cleared her throat. Her eyes were red-rimmed. “After that, we’ll have to surrender the animals to other shelters and farms.”

“No!” the cry burst out before Jas could stop it. All eyes swung to her. She shut her mouth, hesitating when she realized the others were waiting for her to speak. Then she straightened her spine. She was tired of being scared. Tired of running away.

“I’m not going to let this farm be destroyed,” she said. “Miss Hahn said we have a month. That’s enough time to raise more money. I saw how everyone pitched in to make a home for Grandfather and me. We can use that energy to make sure our animals don’t have to leave the farm unless they’ve found a better home.”

“I second the motion,” Chase said. “School doesn’t start for three weeks. That’s three weeks to bake cookies and wash cars and do whatever we have to do to raise money.”

Rand, who’d mostly been silent, said, “I’ve been thinkin’. We need to fence in those five acres on the other side of the pond. There’s good grass there.”

“Only we can’t afford fencing materials,” Miss Hahn pointed out.

“Electric wire’s cheap enough,” Mr. Muggins said.

“But so tacky.” Lucy scrunched her nose. Jas flinched as she remembered saying the same thing not so long ago. “Mrs. Vandevender is replacing her wooden fence with that fancy vinyl stuff. I bet she’d give us the old boards and posts.”

“Good, good.” Miss Hahn began furiously writing on a piece of paper in the folder. Jas
let out a relieved breath. She felt Chase’s palm brush against hers. Slowly, their fingers entwined.

Jas felt herself relax against him—as if his hand holding hers meant that everything would be all right. She stole a quick glance at him. When he smiled, her heart did a little flip.

This time she didn’t draw away. This time she told herself that being close to Chase felt just right.

And as the energy and ideas filled the room, she also knew that this was one fight they were going to win.

Early the next morning, Jas and Chase strode down the drive to Hope’s old home, the pup trotting beside them on a leash. Officer Lacey had given up on the Havahart trap after catching a slew of possums and raccoons. Jas, however, was determined to find Hope’s friend. She knew what it was like to feel lost and alone.

Okay, so maybe she was putting her own feelings onto the dog. But one more thing she’d learned at Second Chance Farm was that animals had emotions, too.

As they walked, Jas and Chase discussed possible designs for a brochure to mail out for raising
funds. Chase had taken a course on Microsoft Publisher. Lucy had a digital camera. All they needed was time to put it together.

When the brick ranch house came into view, Jas slowed. A sign for an upcoming auction was tacked to the front door. Officer Lacey had told them the place was empty. Still, tire tracks were tamped in the lawn as if someone had driven right up to the door. A windowpane was broken. A chair with three legs lay upended on the steps.

“Looks like someone ransacked the place,” Chase said.

“Maybe they were looking for drugs.” Jas shivered. The place was as silent and eerie as a cemetery.

Tugging on the leash, Hope whined. Her nose quivered. Her eyes were alert under her tufts of hair. “She senses something,” Jas said.

“Her phantom friend?” Chase wasn’t as convinced as Jas.

“Come on, Double-o-seven, let’s put your sleuthing skills to good use.”

“I don’t remember James ever tracking missing canines.” But he followed her past the house to the backyard. Jas stepped over a ripped garbage bag, its contents spilled and blown
across the unmowed lawn. Paint cans and a rusted ladder had been tossed in front of the garage doorway.

“Looks like someone is using this place for a dump, too.” She pointed into the garage’s shadowy interior. “That’s where Hope was chained. No food or water.”

Chase stepped inside to look around. Hope cowered at Jas’s feet, trembling. She leaned over and stroked her furry head. “Don’t worry. You’re not going in there.”

“Creepy,” Chase said when he came out a second later. “Like the torture chamber in a horror movie. How could a person do that to his dog?”

“To
two
dogs.”

“You’re right. It does look as if there were two dogs. But that doesn’t mean it’s still around. Look at Hope.” The pup was pressed against Jas’s ankle. “If you let her go, she’d be out of here in a flash. Maybe her friend found a new home, too.”

“I doubt it.” Walking Hope around the sagging outbuildings, Jas called, “Here, boy. Here, doggie.” When she returned to where Chase was still standing, she sighed. “No sign of it.”

“Let’s think positively.” Chase started back
toward the driveway. “And imagine it’s curled on a pillow in some cushy house.”

Hope trotted after Chase as if just as eager to get away. Then suddenly she whirled. Ears pricked, she stared into the thick brush beyond the garage. She quivered—with fear? Joy? Jas couldn’t tell.

“Chase,” she called over her shoulder. “Hope sees something.”

Then branches snapped and Hope began to bark. She strained at the leash. Goose bumps prickled Jas’s arms. “Chase!”

He jogged back. “What?”

“Something’s in there.” She waved toward the tangle of briars, orchard grass, and wild rose.

“A crazed drug dealer?”

“Whatever it is, it’s big.” Rustling sounds came from a blackberry thicket. “It
could
be Hope’s missing friend,” she said, trying to convince herself. “Here, girl! Here, boy!” she called. A grunting sound came from the thicket.

Chase grabbed her arm. “And it
could
be a bear having a morning snack of berries.”

“A bear!” Jas had heard of bears in the area, though she’d never seen one.

Chase began to walk backward, pulling Jas
with him. “Don’t run. Don’t panic. Bears generally avoid people.”

“Generally?”

“If they don’t have cubs or are angry for some reason.”

Still tugging on the leash, Hope barked louder. Jas scooped her up. “Shhh. It’s okay, Hope. No need to bark.”

Slowly they retreated. Jas stumbled over a paint can, but Chase kept her from falling. Then the grass and branches rustled and shook. Whatever it was, was heading toward them at a run.

“It’s coming this way!” Jas cried the same instant a huge black creature burst from the undergrowth and lumbered straight for them.

“RUN!” CHASE HOLLERED AS HE TOOK OFF. JAS
stood motionless in fear. Hope dove from her arms and raced toward the charging creature. The tiny dog leaped in the air and began furiously licking its snout. Instantly the black beast flopped onto its back. Its paws flailed the air. Its tongue lolled in joy.

Jas gaped at the crazy sight. “It’s a dog!” she exclaimed.

“A
what?”
Stopping, Chase stared in amazement, then jogged back.

The two dogs rolled on the grass, Hope whining and licking, the huge dog woofing and wiggling.

“It’s a monster-sized one,” Jas said. “A Newfoundland, maybe?”

“Looks like a Newfie. No wonder we thought it was a bear.”

Letting out a giggle of relief, Jas nudged him in the side with her elbow. “Thank goodness you were here to save me, Double-o-seven,” she teased.

“Don’t mention it—
ever.”
Reaching in his back pocket, Chase pulled out a dog cookie. “Let’s see if the monster is friend or foe.” Slowly, he approached, his eyes averted so as not to appear threatening. “Hey, boy.”

“How do you know it’s a boy?” Jas whispered, right behind him.

“I don’t. But if it is a boy, I don’t want to call him a girl and make him mad.”

With a deep woof, the black dog suddenly scrambled to his feet. “Whoa!” Chase stopped so fast that Jas bumped into him. The dog launched in the air, knocking them both to the ground. It snatched the cookie from Chase’s grasp, gulped it in one bite, then ran back to play with Hope.

Jas pushed herself up on one elbow. Chase was spread-eagled on the grass, blinking up at the sky as if dazed. She leaned over him, worried. “Are you all right?”

“Got the wind knocked out of me,” he gasped. He tilted his head so he could see the two dogs. “So was that friend or foe?”

Jas laughed as she sat up. “Friend, I think. But if we bring him back to the farm, he might turn into foe.” Drawing up her legs, she wrapped her arms around them and sighed. “Miss Hahn’s not going to be happy with one more mouth to feed.”

“And that’s some mouth.” Chase sat up next to her. “His coat’s a wreck.”

“And he’s probably tick-infested.” They groaned in unison at the thought of bathing such a big critter. “I wonder how he survived all this time.”

“Maybe he caught mice? Rabbits?” Chase stood. “If we’re going to get him home and cleaned up, we better get started.” He held out his hand to her. Jas took it and he lifted her to her feet. His arm circled her waist, pulling her close. “I’d say this was quite the adventure,” he said softly.

She nodded, her heart thumping faster than when she’d thought a bear was attacking. He bent his head. She tipped hers. All thoughts about Chase being only a friend vanished. Her eyes drifted shut and she held her breath. Their lips touched. Ever so lightly. And lingered until her mind grew dizzy.

“Nice,” Chase whispered when he finally pulled back.

Very nice
. Jas ducked her chin, too flustered to reply or even look at him. Her palm was pressed against his chest as if ready to push him away. Instead, she nodded in happy agreement.

Since yesterday, when they’d held hands, she’d felt a slight change in their relationship. The kiss had only heightened it.

She tilted her head, wanting him to kiss her again. But a giant mass of stinky fur barreled between them. “Hey!” They sprang apart. Rising up, the Newfie planted two paws on Chase’s chest and slammed him again to the ground.

Jas burst out laughing as the dog licked Chase’s face with a giant pink tongue. “I think you just made a new friend.”

“Mrs. Quincey, this rum cake is to die for,” Jas gushed. It was a week later. She, Chase, and Grandfather sat around the kitchen table in the mobile home. All three were sampling Mrs. Quincey’s famous rum cake, soon to be featured in a fund-raising bake sale.

“You’re right, dear, it
is
to die for,” Mrs.
Quincey said. She was seated next to Grandfather, a red-plumed hat perched jauntily on her head. “It was Mr. Quincey’s last dessert before his fatal heart attack.”

Chase choked. Jas set down her fork. Grandfather asked for another piece.

Mrs. Quincey sliced into the golden bunt cake, drizzled with creamy, rum-flavored frosting. “He died with a smile on his face and crumbs on his lips.”

“I believe it,” Chase said. “I’d like another piece, too.” He held out his plate.

Jas laughed and then said, “Thanks for organizing the bake sale, Mrs. Quincey. This cake will obviously be a hit.”

“My pleasure. How are the other fund-raising ideas going?” she asked as she served Chase and Grandfather a second piece.

“Terrific,” Chase replied. “Mrs. Vandevender’s employees delivered all the old fencing. She said she was glad to help.”