Page 76 of Claiming Ours
I had no idea what the hell just happened, but I sure as hell wouldn’t mind it happening again.
25
BAYLEE
Itossed the vibrating phone into the desk drawer and slammed it shut wishing like hell that would stop it from ringing over and over. The second my voicemail picked up the unknown caller hung up and tried again. The insistent buzzing and flashing screen raked at my nerves making me constantly tense ever since I had returned.
The moment I got back in cell service range dozens of missed texts appeared and had continued to come through in addition to the calls. The messages ranged from vulgar name-calling to hoping I die and a few describing how the asshole hoped I died a horrible death. I deleted all those and reported the number as junk but I couldn’t do the same with the calls since they were from a blocked number.
With the escalation of a few calls to all this I knew it was time to get someone involved. I just really, really didn’t want to tell Liam, knowing he’d be pissed I hadn’t told him before now and might go on a killing spree while attempting to find out who was behind the harassment.
That was a problem for later.
Pushing the unease and paranoia aside, I forced my focus back on the task at hand. A quick click on the mouse had the next X-ray appearing on the computer screen. The office chair creaked when I leaned forward to get a better look at the film I’d already reviewed a dozen times since yesterday. Reaching down to where Hank lay beside me, Elvis by the door keeping watch, I scratched behind his soft ear.
A smile tilted my lips upward at the sound of his tail swishing along the floor. I gazed down at the slightly sedated animal, finding him looking at me with those ice-blue eyes so similar to my own. What were the odds that I could talk Liam and Memphis into keeping Hank so I wouldn’t have to say goodbye?
All thoughts of kidnapping—whoops—adoptingHank faltered as Elvis pushed to stand on all fours with a deep growl that rumbled through my small office. The next second, the bell hanging over the front door rang. Leaving the X-ray up on the screen, I shoved off the armrests, weaved around the snarling Elvis, and strode to the front to see who waited in the lobby. A smirk formed at the click of Elvis’s nails on the floor as he trailed behind me.
I released a relieved breath I didn’t realize I was holding when I rounded the corner, finding Oliver and Ethan standing in the middle of the waiting room quietly chatting. Ethan’s eyes flicked around the room as Oliver spoke. When his searching gaze caught me standing in the open doorway, a wide smile split his face.
“What are you two doing here?” I asked, shoving both hands into the pockets of my lab coat.
“We wanted to check on your patient,” Oliver said, turning to face me. Today he wore his standard uniform, though his hat was clutched tight in the hand at his side. There was no doubt that he looked good in the uniform; it just didn’t hit the sameway for me as it did when I saw Liam in his Wranglers and flannel or Memphis in his trendy grunge look.
I looked at Ethan, who didn’t notice, too focused on his phone. The man looked half-wild with his thick beard, long, messy hair tied up in a bun, and dirt streaked across his Army green hiking pants. But that was Ethan. He didn’t care much about how he looked and would rather be outdoors than anywhere else. Hell, he spent most of his time off duty camping instead of sleeping in the two-bedroom cabin next to Liam’s.
“He’s in the back if you want to see him.” Turning, I headed toward my office and fell into the chair. Oliver’s wide frame filled the space, making it feel even smaller as he squatted to extend the back of his hand to Hank’s twitching nose. “He’s slightly sedated, and I have him on pain meds, so he’s groggy.”
“How bad were his injuries?” Ethan asked, leaning against the doorframe since there was literally no more room in my office.
“So, his right hind leg is sprained but not broken. I’m keeping it wrapped and him off it as much as possible to help it heal correctly. He also has two broken ribs?—”
“What could’ve caused that?” Oliver asked, his voice laced with restrained anger as he ran a hand over Hank’s head.
I swallowed hard. “I’ve seen both types of injuries before in animal abuse cases. The rib fractures probably came from him being kicked. The same with the leg.”
Ethan cursed, making Hank growl at my feet. He held up both hands in surrender, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath to calm himself down.
I leaned back in the chair and studied both men. With a confirming nod, I clicked a key to bring the screen to life. The X-ray I was studying earlier was still there. Grabbing a pencil, I used it as a pointer and gestured to the spot that was giving me so much trouble in trying to determine what the hell happened.
“Then there’s this.” I tapped the screen with the eraser end, drawing their focus to the X-ray. “I have no idea what could’ve caused this. The hairline fractures radiate from a central point, almost like it would from a bullet, but there was no entrance or exit wound.”
Oliver stood and leaned in closer to the screen. I scooted the chair back as far as I could to give him and Ethan a better look.
“I need a bigger office,” I muttered under my breath.
Ethan shot me a half smile before turning his full attention back to the screen. “Yeah, that’s odd, though I haven’t seen a lot of X-rays to say much about it.”
I studied Oliver’s profile. His brows were pulled in tight, lips pressed in a thin line.
“I also have some possible evidence for you, Oliver.”
His eyes snapped to me. “What evidence?”
I grimaced, remembering how difficult it was to get said potential evidence. “Based on the dried blood around his muzzle and fur, I took a leap and assumed he attacked whoever hurt his owner. So I flossed his teeth.”
Oliver stared at me like I was crazy. “You flossed a dog’s teeth?”
