Page 9 of Secret Weapon

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NINE

My cat shot through the door of the break room like a Tsirkon missile, and a bad day suddenly got worse.Because Pickle was followed by a dog—where the fuck had that come from?—and they leapt onto a set of shelves.The free-standing unit tipped over, scattering beads and Pickle across the floor.Paulo made a grab for the canine and slipped over on a river of faux pearls, and a cacophony of yowling and barking and shrieking sent a battering ram through my already delicate head.

Pizdets.

Pickle scaled another set of shelves, and the dog attempted to follow, but it was flagging.Where had all the blood come from?I focused on Pickle, but she didn’t seem damaged, which meant the dog must be the donor.

The dog…

Brooke ran in with Romi Mendez and Shauna Weaver following close behind, and I realised it was Shauna’s unruly mutt that was currently wrecking my store.She never had been able to control it.More than once, it had bolted down Main Street in pursuit of a car with Shauna huffing and puffing along behind.Today, it was miraculously wearing a leash, so why wasn’t she holding the damn thing?

I thought longingly of the syrette of tranquilliser I kept nestled in my bra, just in case of a little emergency.It was meant for humans, but it would probably take a dog down too.Or kill it.I sighed.Death would invite questions I couldn’t answer, so this would have to be done the old-fashioned way.

Paulo’s new friend had run to help him up, and the blonde who’d been browsing the gift section was puzzling over the red streaks on the tiled floor.Brooke and Romi were frozen, Shauna was crying, and didn’t any of these coddled westerners understand the concept of action?

I shuffled toward the dog, keeping the soles of my feet in contact with the floor so I didn’t make the same mistake as Paulo.The thing launched itself at Pickle again, but half-heartedly, which suggested that in the war of blood loss versus adrenaline, whatever injury the dog had suffered was winning.When the leash whipped past me, I caught it and yanked, and the dog fell to my side with a strangled bark.

I nearly snapped, “Hold this fucking thing,” at Shauna, but I caught myself just in time.

“Hun, could you grab the leash while I try to catch Pickle?”

Shauna didn’t move, but the blonde held out a hand.

“Here, I’ll take it.”

“I really appreciate that.”

Back in Russia, I hadn’t been a cat person.My tormentor, the man who’d shaped me into what basically amounted to a pet assassin, had hated animals unless they served a particular purpose.Tracker dogs?Okay.Pet dogs?Not okay.In all honesty, I’d never intended to have a pet in America either, but Pickle had walked into the store one day, nothing but skin and bone, and while the old me would have put her out of her misery, new me thought “fuck it” and took her to the veterinarian.She’d grown on me now.A small creature who gave affection when she felt like it and asked for little in return.

Apart from today.Today, there was no affection, only pissed-off hissing.

I grabbed a square of taffeta from the fabric bin and unfolded it.Pickle was normally friendly, but her claws were sharp, and thanks to Shauna’s incompetence, she was in fight mode.People should have to take a test before they could own a pet.Question one: Can you stop the varmint from being a pain in the ass?Negative?Then no dog for you.

Pickle readied herself to jump to a higher shelf, and I tossed the taffeta over her before she could make the leap.Then I bundled her up and deposited her in the staff bathroom to cool off while I dealt with the rest of the chaos.Thiswas why I preferred to avoid people.

Paulo was whining about bruises, and as I checked on the dog’s status, it collapsed onto the floor in slow motion, scarlet pooling underneath.Bleeding often looked worse than it actually was, unless you used a stiletto knife, or an ice pick, or a neat little .22, but I had to concede that there was a significant volume of blood on the floor.

“I think he’s hurt?”The blonde stated the fucking obvious as she knelt at the dog’s side.“He’s bleeding.”

Shauna contributed by bursting into tears, which took Brooke out of the game too because one of us had to calm Shauna down and it wasn’t going to be me.

“Somebody help Scooby,” she wailed.

“What happened?”I asked.“How did he get hurt?”

Brooke answered for her.“She thinks it was a cougar.”

A cougar?Not this near town, no way.Baldwin’s Shore had thick forest on two sides, and there was enough food out there that mountain lions didn’t need to risk coming near man.

The blonde gently probed through Scooby’s fur.“I don’t see any bite marks, but maybe they’re on the other side?”

“Is the blood definitely his?”Romi asked.“What if he bit the cougar?”

Doubtful.

I turned to Shauna.“You saw the cougar?”

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