Page 43 of The Sin Bin

"And he's currently back from Detroit from a three-game road trip," Barb continued, clearly enjoying herself. "And is playing again tonight. My guess is that you guys haven't had a lot of time to chat?"

"You should be focusing on Mr. Wigglesworth's cruciate repair, not my love life."

"Love life, huh?"

It was getting that way. While they haven't had a chance to talk, Jax had sent a photo earlier this afternoon of Penalty peeking out of the top of his gym bag with a caption that read:Therapy cat wanted to come to visit the team. Vicky said no dice. We're dead if she catches us.

The image of the burly enforcer smuggling a kitten into practice had made her laugh out loud in the staff room, earning curious looks from her techs. The subsequent texts throughout the day—updates on Penalty's physical therapy exercises, questions about proper feline nutrition, a link to an article about service animals in professional sports—had kept a smile on her face despite an exhausting schedule. Except now, his phone would be off and in his locker until after the game.

"Earth to Lauren," Barb's voice broke through her thoughts. "Suture?"

"Right, sorry." Lauren accepted the thread, focusing back on the task at hand. "I'm just distracted today."

"No kidding," Barb said dryly. "Look, I'm thrilled you're finally getting some action after your two-year dating hiatus, but maybe save the swooning for after we close this incision?"

Lauren felt heat rise to her cheeks. "I am not swooning."

"You're textbook swooning."

Before Lauren could formulate a suitably dignified response, the operating room door opened, and Kim, the front desk receptionist, poked her head in.

"Dr. Mackenzie? Sorry to interrupt, but there's a call for you. Says it's urgent."

"Can it wait?" Lauren asked, gesturing to the open surgical site. "We're just finishing up here."

"It's from the arena," Kim said. "Something about the K-9 unit? One of the dogs was injured during a security check."

Lauren's stomach dropped. The Charm City Arena employed a specialized team of security dogs that swept the building before every event. As the emergency vet closest to the arena, her clinic occasionally handled their medical needs.

"Tell them I'll call back as soon as we close," she instructed. "Fifteen minutes, tops."

Kim nodded and disappeared, leaving Lauren to finish the surgery with renewed focus. Working efficiently, she completed the final sutures and stepped back to examine her work.

"Perfect closure, as usual," Barb observed, beginning the post-operative procedures. "I've got this. Go make your call."

"Thanks," Lauren said gratefully, stripping off her gloves and gown. "Let me know when he's in recovery."

In her small office, Lauren returned the call, quickly learning that one of the K-9 officers, a four-year-old Belgian Malinois named Ranger, had lacerated his paw on broken glass during a routine sweep. The handler was en route to her clinic.

"ETA five minutes," the security coordinator informed her. "Officer Daniels says it's bleeding heavily but doesn't appear to have hit any major vessels."

"We'll be ready," Lauren assured him, already mentally cataloging the likely treatment protocol.

When she emerged from her office, her team was already preparing the exam room for the incoming emergency. The police SUV arrived with lights flashing, and Officer Daniels carried Ranger in, the dog's front paw wrapped in a blood-soaked temporary bandage. Despite his obvious pain, Ranger remained calm and alert, his eyes tracking Lauren's movements as she approached.

"Let's get him on the table," she directed, her professional demeanor taking over. "Kim, start the paperwork. Barb, I need a sedative ready just in case, but let's see if he'll let us examine the wound first."

Ranger proved to be an exemplary patient, allowing Lauren to remove the bandage and assess the injury without restraint. The laceration was deep but clean, a jagged four-inch slice across his pad that would require multiple stitches.

"Good news is, no glass fragments remain in the wound," Lauren told Officer Daniels. "Bad news is, he's going to need sutures and will be off duty for at least two weeks."

The handler nodded grimly. "The arena won't be happy. We're already short-staffed with the playoff push increasing security demands."

Lauren administered a local anesthetic and sedative that put him into a calming sleep. When the dog's eyes closed and his breathing normalized, she began cleaning the wound. "Do you have backup units available?"

"Not really," Daniels admitted. "We've had two retirements recently, and the rookie dogs aren't fully certified yet." He sighed, watching as Lauren prepared her suture materials. "Tonight's game against Toronto is sold out. Upper management is paranoid about security after that incident in Boston last month."

Lauren nodded, having heard about the security breach at another arena that had resulted in a postponed game. As she worked on Ranger's paw, a thought began to form—a potential solution that would benefit both the arena and the cause closest to her heart.

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