They arrived at the accident scene and Len carefully lifted the dog, a female beagle with no collar or tags, placing her across their laps. Tina and Ashley gently hugged the little dog goodbye and went home. The poor animal was whimpering but mostly silent, obviously in great pain. Shallie wanted to cry at her agony. She and Carly stroked her head and long soft ears, careful not to touch her injuries. Neither cared about the blood seeping into their clothes in spite of the towel Tina had draped over them.

“I hope she’ll be okay,” Carly said. “Please let her be okay.”

Shallie leaned over to hug Carly. “I’m sure she will be. She was lucky you found her. And I hear this vet is good.”

“I want her to live,” Carly said. “She deserves to.”

“I know Dr. Ferguson will do everything she can and so will we.”

Arriving at the clinic, they discovered Cord already there. Barb, a woman in her late forties with long graying hair, was instantly attentive, but the information Carly could provide was limited. Cord introduced everyone to everyone else, something Shallie had completely forgotten to do.

With Cord’s help, Barb took the dog into an exam room; ten or so minutes later, they both emerged. The dog was young, Barb said, estimating about two years, not spayed and not microchipped. Her injuries were serious—blood loss, a broken pelvis, a broken paw. She was malnourished, too. She’d be in the clinic for at least a week.

Cord made the down payment and told Barb’s assistant, William, that he’d cover the whole cost. Carly objected and insisted she’d contribute; Shallie said she’d like to help, too, and even the Lewises wanted to kick in.

Barb told them she’d do the surgery tomorrow morning. Carly thanked her and said she planned to visit the next afternoon and maybe Wednesday, too. Barb lived nearby and tended to maintain fairly open hours.

On the way home, they decided to stop at Bailey’s for dinner.

During their meal, Cord told them a little more about the current crime wave—the release of farm and ranch animals—and described his own plans to deal with the situation. “We’re doing patrols. Amos at the sheriff’s office is working out the schedules and the routes. Plus, Mitch and I will do regular checks on the property, even though we already have a good security system.” It all made sense to Shallie, although she was distracted by Carly’s emotional state. The girl was fidgeting, glancing around. Naturally, she was upset about the cruelty to animals Cord had mentioned and about the injured beagle, but Shallie felt there was more to her anxiety.