Free Let Loose by Rae Davies Page A

meant it might be good news, in
the form of someone calling to tell me that the Humane Society had
approved whoever the poor sap was who had applied to take care of
fosters for them. Or maybe even Peter. He had told me he’d be back
by the weekend.
    “Lucy Mathews? This is Shelly from the Humane
Society. I have some good news.”
    My heart flittered. I could feel my shower
running, followed closely by the soft joy of new pillows under my
head.
    “You’ve been approved.”
    “Approved?”
    “Yes, as a foster. Normally this takes a
little longer, but these are such unusual circumstances, and since
you already have the dogs anyway, this was pretty much a
formality.”
    “A formality?”
Wait
. She was talking
like what she was saying was a good thing, but... “Are you saying I
have to keep the dogs?”
    “Yes, you’re approved. I called the Police
Department and let them know that you would be their permanent
contact. I’m just so glad this worked out so easily, with you
applying when you did and the paperwork already going through the
channels.”
    “Applying?” I didn’t apply. I didn’t want to
apply.
    “Yes... is there a problem? You sound
upset.”
    Upset? Was I upset? Of course I was. I opened
my mouth to tell her exactly how upset I was.
    “Because I can’t tell you how hard it is for
us to find good fosters. Especially ones willing and able to take
care of the number of dogs that you have, but if it’s a problem,
I’m sure we could do... something.”
    Her tone said that was a complete lie. I
looked at Fluff who was staring at me with an eerie unwavering
look. Then I looked at Kiska. He was staring too, but at Fluff with
such complete awe and adoration I knew I couldn’t face telling him
I’d shuffled her off to wherever dogs with no place to go went.
    Still, I asked, “So you’d have another
place?”
    “Uh...” There was some fumbling and rustling
of paper. “Well, yes, but it would mean putting down an equal
number of dogs here.”
    Putting down? As in killing? As in I would be
directly responsible for some poor homeless dogs’ deaths?
    “We try to avoid that as much as we can, but
we can only house so many animals, and the huskies are evidence, so
it would have to be dogs we already have, and then when more dogs
came in...” She let the sentence trail off. Like it mattered; I
knew where this was headed.
    I thought I was going to throw up. “No, no.
No need for that. I’m thrilled to be a foster.”
    Her sigh of relief wasn’t just audible. I
could feel it reverberating through the air waves. It did nothing
to lessen my nausea.
    She hung up, and I collapsed onto the sofa.
Fluff walked over and set her head on my knee. I stroked her
between the ears and tried not to think about the new noises I
heard coming from the laundry room.
    “It’s Winny, isn’t it?” I asked Fluff. Winny
had a few addiction issues, mainly involving my favorite underwear
and anything resembling a sock.
    Fluff stared back, obviously not wanting to
burden me with the truth.
    Kiska, sensing someone other than him was
getting attention, walked over and set his head on my other knee.
Fluff, after a lifted brow, tolerated his intrusion.
    And there I sat, pinned by two dogs and
wondering what the hell I was going to do to keep the rest of them
from bringing my house down around me.
    “I’m going to have to find you homes,” I
said. Except, I couldn’t, not until the police decided they weren’t
evidence and the only sure way I knew that was going to happen was
them closing Red’s case. Which meant someone needed to find his
killer.
    And who better than me?

Chapter 7
    I started my quest with my closest connection
to Red, Martin Phillips.
    I pulled into the parking lot of the Sleep
Inn, Jeep fully loaded with dogs. I’d even brought Kiska. I’d
thought about leaving him at home. I’d thought about leaving every
configuration of dogs I could at home, but every one added up to
some kind of disaster, not that