Page 29 of Fire Harbor

“I don’t know. But it’s a weird coincidence if the two aren’t connected.” About that time, his pager went off. “Looks like it’s time to rock ’n roll. There’s an accident with injuries reported on the east side of town.”

“Who are you working with today?”

“Deacon Rowland from San Sebastian, otherwise known as Deke. We worked a double shift together last month.”

“I guess that means you could be transporting the injured between two hospitals.”

“Sounds like it.”

“That means a busy night. Stay safe out there.”

“Thanks. You, too. Catch you later.”

After closing the library, Lake made a mad dash in the rain for her Beetle parked near the front door. The wind whipped the umbrella she held and almost turned it inside out. She didn’t let go until she had settled in the cramped space behind the wheel, moving the umbrella to the floorboard on the passenger side. She stuck the key in the ignition and turned on the windshield wipers, defroster, and heater before revving the engine. But the heat just made the windows fog up. She lowered the heat and waited until the glass had cleared before heading out of the parking lot toward Dog Tails to pick up Farley.

A few minutes later, thunder rumbled overhead. It reminded her to park as close as she could get to the front door. She pulled past the black and gray Dog Tails sign, knowing Ellie’s layout because she’d toured the facility a month ago when it opened.

Ellie and Hollis had bought two buildings across from one another that shared one parking lot. Ellie’s side offered two indoor play areas with artificial turf and one fenced area outdoors where the dogs could romp and run around. Hollis’s boarding and grooming side offered roomy individual kennel suites that came with beds and their own dog dishes.

Lake stepped inside the front door into a sizable reception area where Ellie greeted her with a smile. “Linus said you’d be coming by for Farley.”

“How was he today? Farley, not Linus.”

Ellie tittered with laughter. “Rambunctious. I try to spend extra time with him, but it never seems to be enough. Follow me back and you can see for yourself how anxious he is.”

“Sure. I don’t get it. He wasn’t at all like that last night with Jack and Scout.” She followed Ellie down a long hallway where only two other dogs lounged in their individual crates. Seeing them penned up made her grateful that Jack and Scout could fend for themselves during work hours. Neither were considered high-maintenance dogs, not like Farley. But she still didn’t like to see dogs, especially big ones, in a cramped crate.

“If you’re wondering where the other dogs are, most have already been picked up for the day. With another wave of storms blowing through here, people want to get home early.”

“That sounds like a plan to me.”

Farley was at the end of the row. As soon as he recognized her, he began to bark, pacing and jumping, wanting out. Ellie obliged by opening the door and immediately hooking his leash to his collar. Farley leaped forward, shoving his body onto Lake’s, showing her how glad he was to see her.

“Okay, okay,” Lake sputtered, finally getting Farley to calm down, encouraging him to stay on all fours without leaping into her arms again.

“See what I mean?” Ellie said. “It’s like he forgets what he’s learned in class.”

“Aww,” Lake cooed as she scratched Farley under his chin and behind the ears. “Let’s get home out of the rain. Maybe you don’t like hearing the thunder.”

“See you tomorrow.”

Lake nodded and waved and started toward the exit. She wasn’t so sure this was the best place for Farley. She had nothing against Ellie or her facility. In fact, Ellie kept it spotless and was good to the dogs. Her doggie daycare filled a void for working dog owners. But not all pups were suited to daycare.

While Lake agreed that Farley needed more socialization, she felt her dogs could fill that role. “Come on, boy. Let’s pack you into my car and take you home. Back seat for you today.” As she approached the VW bug in the rain, she sighed. She hoped she wouldn’t need to stuff three dogs into her Beetle anytime soon. Maybe she did need that four-wheel drive after all.

At home, Lake let Farley settle in with her dogs while she ran upstairs to change out of her dress and into thick, warm leggings and an oversized sweater.

The primary bedroom, once her father’s, now belonged to her. It came with a roomy ensuite bathroom, complete with walk-in shower, which she absolutely loved. She’d made a few changes since making this bedroom hers three years earlier. No longer a dark palette with industrial blacks and browns, Lake had redone the master bedroom using her own white furniture from her old bedroom—headboard, nightstands, blanket box, and shelving—that brightened the place considerably, especially using accents in softer pastels. Gone were her father’s dark, heavy-layered fabric drapes. She’d replaced them with sheer, feathery curtains that let in the sunshine. She favored her grandmother’s blue and white handmade quilt over a store-bought comforter from a big box store. No pinks or corals for Lake, but rather a blue and teal color theme throughout that offered an airy appeal, a place to curl up at night and let the ocean breeze lull her to sleep.

After slipping her feet into a pair of fluffy suede booties she went out to the landing and the hall closet to drag out a few of the emergency supplies she stored there. Inside were things like extra candles, matches, flashlights, extra batteries, extra rolls of toilet paper, and an old green metal tool kit that had belonged to her grandfather.

The second-story floor plan, added in 1914, stayed simple through the early part of the 20th century. But as the years progressed, chamber rooms became bedrooms, and water closets turned into modern conveniences with stricter plumbing codes. The mid-1960s saw her grandparents go all out and take out a second mortgage to build two spacious bathrooms, both with shower stalls, one for their primary bedroom, the other in the hallway sandwiched between two other bedrooms. The grand plan became the talk of the neighborhood. The buzz had brought neighbors by to ooh and aah over the finished transformation.

But what most people seemed to forget about the Marigold House was that those renovations had endured five more decades before another would come along. Upgrades didn’t come cheap on a professor’s salary. The same could be said of librarians. The kitchen remodel done fifteen years ago was the last big project the house had undergone. That is, until she upgraded the walk-in shower in her bedroom.

But Lake wasn’t one to complain. She took it in stride when folks poked fun and called it an eyesore. To her, 1802 Bishops Bay would always be her home. And that’s all that mattered.

Along the hallway, she set out candles within easy reach in case they lost power in the middle of the night. After grabbing one of the flashlights, she padded downstairs using the back staircase into the kitchen.

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