Chapter 2 - THE SCAR BENEATH THE COLLAR
The police arrived twelve minutes later.
By then, Toby was in an ambulance with an injured shoulder and deep bruising. His jacket had absorbed much of the bite, but the paramedics insisted on taking him to the hospital.
Mave stood beside the ambulance.
“You're going to be okay,” she told him.
Toby's eyes filled.
“I thought I was dead.”
She squeezed his uninjured hand.
“I know.”
Across the street, Declan Gallagher watched them.
He had built his reputation on making people afraid.
Tonight, a nineteen-year-old busboy had nearly been seriously injured because of an animal under his responsibility.
And the woman who had helped prevent something worse was standing in the rain, checking whether the boy needed someone to call his mother.
Declan had never felt quite so ashamed.
The three strangers disappeared before police secured the restaurant.
That bothered him.
But something else bothered him more.
Brutus.
The dog was now secured in a quiet, enclosed area, awaiting evaluation by animal control and a veterinarian.
Declan had agreed to cooperate.
He hadn't wanted to.
But Mave had looked him in the eye and said, “If you love him, you'll let somebody figure out why this happened.”
He couldn't argue with that.
At two in the morning, Mave was wiping down the ruined dining room when Declan approached.
Arthur had already gone home.
The other employees were too frightened to speak.
“Miss Dunlevy.”
She looked up.
“Mave.”
He nodded.
“Mave.”
She continued wiping the table.
“How's the boy?”
“Stable. He'll need follow-up treatment.”
Declan looked toward the broken furniture.
“I'll cover his medical expenses.”
“You should.”
His eyebrows rose.
Most people thanked him when he offered money.
Mave simply continued working.
“You know dogs?” he asked.
“A little.”
“Enough to understand Brutus?”
“Enough to know he needs professional help.”
Declan hesitated.
“Can you recommend someone?”
She looked at him.
“There's a veterinary behaviorist named Dr. Eleanor Price. She helped at a rescue where I volunteered.”
Declan took out his phone.
“Number?”
Mave gave it to him.
Then she added:
“And stop bringing him into crowded restaurants until he's been assessed.”
Declan looked at her.
Nobody had spoken to him that way in years.
“Anything else?”
“Yes.”
She pointed at his expensive suit.
“Next time somebody's dog attacks an employee, don't let your men stand around worrying about whether you're going to be angry.”
His jaw tightened.
Mave held his gaze.
“A person's life matters more than your reputation.”
For several seconds, Declan said nothing.
Then he nodded.
“You're right.”
Mave blinked.
She hadn't expected that.
As Declan turned to leave, she noticed something sticking from his coat pocket.
A small black device.
It looked like a remote control.
“What's that?” she asked.
Declan glanced down.
His expression changed.
“I don't know.”
He pulled it out.
A tiny red light blinked.
Mave stepped closer.
She recognized the device.
Not the model.
The function.
It resembled a remote used with an electronic training collar.
Declan stared at it.
Then looked toward the door where the three strangers had disappeared.
May you like
Someone had slipped the device into his pocket.
And someone had wanted him to find it.
