Dark Vengeance Kristi Belcamino (read me a book .txt) 📖

The road to town was bumpy with potholes and ruts, and I cringed each time we hit one, trying not to jostle Dylan in my arms. Before long, we were on the main street in the small village. Halfway through town, we turned down a long dirt driveway. I craned my neck and saw a small white house at the end of the driveway. As we grew closer, the guy driving the truck laid on the horn in an endless blast. By the time we parked in front of the house, there was a man on the porch, pulling on a jacket and running a hand through a thick head of black hair.

He had a close-cropped beard and large plastic tortoiseshell glasses that gave him a slight owlish look. He wore a crisp dress shirt not quite buttoned all the way up and khakis with bare feet.

“Thank God you’re awake,” Makeda said to him as he rushed over. She turned to me. “This is Asahi.”

Asahi didn’t greet us, just gave me a quick glance over his glasses before he leaped into the back of the truck where we were. He crouched near Dylan and examined him for a second before he looked up and spoke.

“I think he was stabbed. It seems deep.”

Up close, I could see the veterinarian had kind eyes behind the glasses and looked to be in his late thirties.

“If I get out of the truck, can you hand him to me?” he asked.

I nodded and stood. He leaped over the side and then held out his arms, making a cradle of them. I leaned over and settled Dylan into his embrace. He rushed into his house, leaving us standing there.

“Come on,” Makeda said. We entered the house, and I followed her down a long hallway, past a living room and kitchen to a door at the back of the house that was wide open.

We entered a sterile-looking exam room with white walls and an exam table. Dylan was on it, lying on his side, eyes rolled back. At first, alarm zinged through me.

“I just gave him a shot,” the vet said. “It will take away the pain, but also allow me to examine him and stitch him up.”

He picked up a stainless-steel tray with what looked like operating room instruments and put it near Dylan, who had by now closed his eyes.

I reached over and stroked his head.

“That’s good,” the vet said. “Keep doing that.”

Ten minutes later, the deep gash in Dylan’s stomach was closed.

“He’s lost a lot of blood,” the vet said, “But my main concern is infection.”

The vet peered at me over his glasses. “How was he injured?”

“I don’t know,” I said. “I found him like this. I didn’t see any obvious weapon lying around. I’ll look as soon as we get back.”

“The reason I ask is there seemed to be some rust-type material in the wound. I washed it out as well as I could but …”

I nodded.

“I suggest I keep him here, at the very least overnight, and give him a course of antibiotics through an IV. That will require keeping him sedated, which is a good idea anyway since I don’t want him worrying the stitches.”

“Okay. Anything you say.” I looked around the room. The only furniture was the exam table and a small dresser with medical equipment on it. There wasn’t even a chair. “Can I stay with him?”

“I’m going to put him in a dog bed in my bedroom so I can keep an eye on him throughout the night. I’m not sure my wife would take kindly to you being in the room with us.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. “Yeah, I suppose that wouldn’t go over very well.”

He smiled back. “I would offer you my couch, but … my wife is very adamant about me keeping my business and our home separate, even though they are in the same building. He pointed to a door that led outside. “Usually this is as far as the owners of my patients get.”

Makeda, who had been standing in the corner, stepped forward. “I’m sorry, Asahi. I led everyone right through your house. Please apologize to Dolores for me.”

He smiled. “It was an emergency. I’m sure she understood. But I will have you leave this way,” he said, pointing toward the door again.

“Any word on the grant?” Arrow asked.

He shook his head. “Not good.”

Makeda turned toward me. “Last summer, Asahi and I worked together to apply for a grant to open a small medical clinic here on the island. Right now, everybody comes to Asahi when they get hurt.”

He gave a rueful smile. “I know how to treat animals, but people? Not so much.”

“Don’t listen to him,” Makeda said. “He’s saved lives, but we are in desperate need of a medical clinic with at least one doctor. We have a doctor on Sumatra willing to relocate if we can get the funds for the clinic.”

“How much do you need?” I asked casually.

The two exchanged looks. “More than you’d think,” Makeda said.

I had a lot of money. A lot more than I’d use in my lifetime. I filed that little tidbit away. Right now, I had to find Rose.

The three of us headed for the door.

After Makeda and Arrow filed out, I hesitated, turning to the vet. He saw my face and spoke first.

“Dylan will be in good hands with me,” he said. “I sleep poorly anyway, waking often, and will be able to check on him for fever and other discomfort. We open at nine in the morning and I’ll be happy to let you in at that time.”

I pressed my lips together and nodded. “Thank you.”

On the drive back to the beach, I squeezed into the front bench seat with Makeda and Arrow.

“Can we swing by the marina so I can see if the driver who brought me is there?”

My fists clenched. If he was the one who took Rose and hurt