Page 66 of I Am Salvation

What if he scratches at the door, bothering the other guests? What if he damages the door? What if he barks his head off? What if he pees everywhere?

No.

I’m not leaving the dog alone in this expensive hotel room.

I do a quick search on my phone and find out that Taos is a very dog-friendly city. So I throw a hoodie over my head and grab the dog.

“Guess we can find someplace to eat,” I say.

I open the hotel room door just as my phone rings.

Chapter Eighteen

Diana

Mrs. Locke looks pretty much the same as she did last night, only this morning she’s wearing a robe. It’s hot-pink flannel, and it’s worn in places. Her feet are in pink fuzzy slippers.

“Good morning, Mrs. Locke.”

She cocks her head, scowling. “Who the hell are you?”

“I’m a friend of your son’s. I was actually here last night with him, but I stayed in the car.”

“Good, then you can give me my dog back.”

Seriously? She thinks I’m here because of the dog?

“I’d be glad to do that,” I say, “if you were taking proper care of him. The poor thing was starving and in need of a bath. So you won’t be getting him back. In fact, I should call the cops on you for animal cruelty.”

“Nobody cares about a damned old dog.”

Wow. As if I couldn’t hate this woman more. Not only did she abandon her son for something he didn’t do, but she’s cruel to animals and thinks no one cares about them.

To a person who grew up on a ranch around all kinds of animals, those are fighting words.

“I care,” I say. “Your dog is now clean and well fed, and he won’t be coming back here. But that’s not what I came to talk to you about.”

She narrows her eyes. “I need a watchdog around here.”

This time I laugh. “Teddy is no watchdog. He went with Dragon and me willingly. That’s not watchdog material.”

She rolls her eyes. “Fine. What the hell do you want anyway?”

“May I come in?”

“No.”

“Then I guess we’ll talk out here.” I hold up the tray of coffee I picked up on the way. “Can I offer you a coffee?”

“I’ll have a pumpkin spice latte,” she scoffs out.

“Sorry. I only brought medium roast. But I have cream and sugar.”

Finally, she opens the door. “If you’re determined to hang around here, come on in. I don’t want to stand out here on my feet.”

I walk in and realize I probably shouldn’t have. There are a couple of rifles hanging on the wall. They could very well be loaded, and although I’m a great shot, I’m not armed.

For a moment, I wish I were Brianna. She’d have some snide comment to make, something to say that would make this woman bow down to her.

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