Page 11 of The Goblin in the Sink Drain
“They’re waiting to see who comes out on top.” Sloane exhaled slowly. “I’m glad I’m not an alpha.”
“Yeah.” Liam cast his cousin an inscrutable look. “Me too.”
“And here I thought we would never agree on anything.” Sloane went to turn off the dripping sink. “Ana, I’m going to make the rounds and check on the animals.”
“Thank you.” I gripped Tara’s phone harder. “I’ll see if I can access the security feeds.”
“You can do that?” Liam perked at the news. “This might be over quicker than I thought.”
“The connection out here is slow,” I warned him, logging into the app. “The video quality isn’t great either.”
“We’ll take all the help we can get.”
“Contact Rochele and tell her to keep driving and wait for instructions,” Rían ordered him. “Then go help Sloane.”
With a sharp nod, Liam withdrew his phone, dialing as he stalked after Sloane.
“It’s your call—” Rían frowned at his hand like he had forgotten he was still touching me, then grimaced like it hurt to let go, “—but I would suggest we have Rochele and Mindy escort your animals back to Brentwood until the situation here is resolved. Things are chaotic enough without adding moreanimals and owners into the mix. GSG is secure. Your clients will be safer there.”
“I agree.” I tipped my head from side to side, working out a kink in my neck. “We need to focus on caring for the pets at this location and getting all of them home to their people.”
“I’ll let Rochele know.” He hesitated, just for a second, like he might offer to massage out my soreness, before tapping the side of Tara’s device. “There’s no service block out here, if you need to use your phone.”
“Yeah.” Laughing softly, I began skimming her active conversations. “I picked up on that.”
“You could call Sartori.”
The suggestion hung between us, distracting me from the task at hand. I couldn’t tell if he wanted me to contact Dad or if he thought I required permission to reach out. But whatever his reasons, I had decided I wouldn’t be the one who bent this time. “I’m good.”
“There’s no one else who might want to hear from you?”
Sloane is the only friend I’ve gotstuck to the tip of my tongue, but I wasn’t about to confess. The last thing I wanted from him was pity. Let him think I was being stubborn. Better stubborn than pathetic. And it was pathetic to see how wrong I had been. Tara had been a friend to me—or tried her best to be—but I hadn’t let her in. I hadn’t known how. I could only hope it wasn’t too late to set things right.
“Tara had no incoming calls past the one you mentioned, and her text chains are with friends and family. Nothing here suggests she was afraid or concerned about today.” A bitter taste flooded my mouth. “Mostly she was excited to see me, since I haven’t been to visit in six months or so.”
A vibration alerted me that the security app had finished loading,finally, so I switched screens.
“There are several videos from today,” Rían murmured over my shoulder, startling me since I hadn’t noticed him move. A guy that tall shouldn’t be stealthy. “Are the cameras motion activated?”
“The exterior ones, yes.” I queued the clips up in order. “The interior ones run 24/7.”
The better to protect Tara and her employees from claims of misconduct and their clients from potential abuse. If I hadn’t been creeped out by the knowledge Dad would have hacked my feeds and set his people to monitor me on screen around the clock, I would have followed her example.
“Are you familiar with her current staff?”
“She has two full-timers who have been with her from the start and one part-time new hire.”
“Do you remember the new hire’s name?”
“Kato Okumura.” I rewound the footage to the start of the day. “Ah.” I pointed out a lanky twenty-year-old with his long, dark hair twisted into a bun at his nape. “That’s him.” I angled the screen to lessen the glare. “The original two are Lon Maddow and Bryce Saab.”
As the others arrived, I identified them. The three employees held a brief meeting then dispersed to begin their work feeding animals and cleaning enclosures. Tara arrived last, as usual, a skill she had perfected by always running errands before clocking in. She shoved in the door, called out a greeting, then set bags full of detergent, fabric softener, and other cleaning supplies on an empty table.
Their morning went the way mornings did at grooming salons. Nail trims, haircuts, baths. They had done the heavy lifting and moved on to walking the boarded animals on the small path circling the property in a wide loop people often mistook for a public dog park, when we hit pay dirt.
A man intercepted Lon, but she showed no concern at his approach. Lots of pet parents stopped to ask if they were allowed to walk their animals there, so she wouldn’t have thought it was odd he didn’t have a dog with him at the time.
In three deft moves, he had her unconscious and on the ground where he ziptied her wrists at her spine. The Frenchie she had been walking bolted deeper into the surrounding woods, but Lon’s assailant didn’t go after it. He slung her over his shoulder and marched off camera.
