“The cameras are showing a drop-off at the front of the shelter. You think you could go check it out? I’m three hours away.” Adrop-off was when someone left an animal, usually in a box, at the shelter doors after hours.
“Yes, of course.”
“Thank you so much.”
“No problem,” I said.
“Will you call me back with a report?”
“I will.” I ended the call. “I have to go.”
Asher looked between Elinor and me like she was the reason I was fleeing. She was actually the only reason I probably needed to stay. But I had to go and hope that Asher would let me explain later if Elinor outed me. If she really was Gemma.
I pointed to Dale. “Don’t post that video.”
He gave me an innocent shrug, but I didn’t have time to threaten him more. I’d have to trust that he was just jerk-like on the surface like Asher kept telling me.
I reached my towel, shook it off, and wrapped it around me. When I picked up my beach tote I remembered that Kamala had driven us here. I turned around to see where she was and nearly collided with Asher.
“Do you really have to leave or was that a staged emergency exit?” he asked. Dale and Kamala were right behind him.
“That was Erin. We had a drop-off at the shelter.”
“I’m coming with you,” Asher said, abandoning the board he held. “I can drive.”
“I’ll give Dale a ride home,” Kamala offered.
My eyes found Elinor, still lingering by the water. “Okay, let’sgo.”
Rule:Always date a good hugger.
It had turned into a windy day and as Asher and I approached the cardboard box in front of the shelter, the flaps were slapping open and closed with each gust. I pulled the towel I still wore tight around me with a shiver.
“Maybe it’s just a delivery?” Asher said. He was still in his swimsuit as well, but he’d thrown a T-shirt on. We did not look like shelter employees on official business. We looked like beach bums, sandy feet and all.
“It’s not a sealed box.”
“True.”
I peeled back one flap revealing a crumpled blanket. I carefully lifted the blanket to find three tiny kittens. They were very quiet and mostly still. I touched one gently. It was colder than it should’ve been, which worried me. I entered the code on the shelter’s front door and the lock slid open.
“Will you grab the box?” I asked, turning to Asher.
He was already holding it, securing the bottom with one hand.
“Thanks,” I said.
“Of course.”
The shelter felt different after hours, empty of humans. It felt colder, darker, even less homey than during regular hours. The ever-present barking still filled the air. I led Asher toward the medical room, flipping on lights as I went. “It’s okay,” I said as we passed kennels, the dogs getting even louder. “Just me.”
We walked down the aisle and to the far corner, where the medical room was. Once inside, with the door shut behind us, I called Erin and filled her in. She gave me instructions on where the formula and heating pads were and what to do.
“Is this just a day in the life of Wren?” Asher asked after we had managed to give each kitten a syringe full of formula and they were resting comfortably on a warm pad in a crate.
“Oh yes,” I said. “Very typical.”
Asher sat on one of the tall stools, his elbows on the counter, as he peered into the crate. His hair was flopping over one eye, and he wore a cute smile as he stared at the tiny kittens.