For Love Of A Dog. Janice Carter

CHAPTER TEN

       CHAPTER ELEVEN

       CHAPTER TWELVE

       CHAPTER THIRTEEN

       CHAPTER FOURTEEN

       CHAPTER FIFTEEN

       CHAPTER SIXTEEN

       CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

       CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

       CHAPTER NINETEEN

       CHAPTER TWENTY

       Extract

       Copyright

       PROLOGUE

      “THAT’S A DOG.”

      “Yes, ma’am.”

      Kai looked from the pathetic creature in the carrier crate to the young soldier. “I was asked to take back a package. No one said anything about a dog.”

      He cleared his throat. “Well, ma’am, this is the package. And he’s not just any dog. This here is Amigo.”

      “No, no. I can’t do this. And please don’t call me ma’am.”

      “Sorry, ma...miss, I assure you, it won’t be a problem. He has all the required papers for his passage to the States. You won’t have to do a thing...well, except collect him from baggage when you arrive in New York, and, uh, we’re hoping you can see that he gets to his final destination since those transport plans haven’t worked out.”

      “Sorry?”

      He had the grace to flush. “I apologize. A last-minute glitch.”

      “So what is the final destination?”

      “An address outside Newark, New Jersey.”

      “And how am I supposed to arrange that?” She was trying to toss any and every reason at him for not going through with this crazy request. A dog!

      “Um, if you don’t have your own vehicle, perhaps a taxi or one of those shuttle vans? We’ll be happy to reimburse any cost to you.”

      “We?”

      “All the guys in my squad—Captain Rossi’s men. We organized this for him.”

      “This is really too much...uh—” she squinted at his ID “—Corporal McDougall. I was expecting a small package that I could put into the mail when I got to the States. Not something alive.” She stared at the dog, his dark eyes peering up at her. Sad, chocolate-brown eyes. Kai looked back at the soldier. “I’m sorry, but there’s just no way.”

      The soldier’s face crumpled. For a horrifying second, Kai thought he might cry.

      “See—” he paused to clear his throat again “—when I say that Amigo isn’t just any dog, I really mean it. He and the Cap were almost predestined to get together. We were in this valley in Helmand, and one morning Amigo wandered into our camp. He was so skinny you could count every rib. One ear almost torn off—that one there, the right.”

      Kai followed his pointing finger. Sensing he was again the center of attention, the dog wearily raised his head. Kai noted the jagged edge of ear. He was pathetically thin. A village dog, typical of those she’d encountered in India and South Asia. Pale yellow-brown short hair, longish snout and white-tipped tail now tucked beneath his hind end. Not a dog someone would be drawn to in any pet store. Or anywhere else for that matter. But apparently this dog was special.

      “Your flight doesn’t leave for three hours. Could we have a coffee while I tell you all about Amigo and Captain Rossi?”

      Kai looked into his earnest blue eyes and felt herself relent. The captain was clearly special, but why the dog? Her curiosity won out. “All right, Corporal McDougall, lead the way.” She followed him as he pushed the trolley holding the dog in its crate, trying to stifle her resentment that, once again, she’d allowed herself to be soft-soaped into a situation she wanted no part of. You really have to learn to say no. She thought back to the American Embassy party in Kuwait City. Free-flowing Champagne and a heady conversation with a very attractive marine whose rank she couldn’t recall but who knew someone who needed a small favor if she was flying stateside from Frankfurt.

      After she heard the rest of McDougall’s story, she found herself returning to it hours later, ensconced in her Business Class seat courtesy of the magazine that had sent her to Kuwait.

      His account had been spare, omitting specific details of what had happened in that Afghan valley, explaining how the dog had been important to Luca Rossi and why his men had adopted him after their captain had been airlifted back to the States. But when he finished, she still didn’t see why the dog mattered so much that favors had been called in and promises made in order to expedite the paperwork needed to send it to Rossi. Likely she’d never know, and with any luck, the handover would go as smoothly as the check-in at Frankfurt.

      She closed her eyes, vaguely aware of a crying infant in Economy and blessed her generous contract one last time before falling asleep.

      * * *

      STANDING IN LINE while she waited for the dog’s paperwork to clear customs at LaGuardia, Kai was grateful for the good night’s sleep. Otherwise she might have been as cranky as the man in front of her whose impatience with the border agent had simply resulted in even more of a slowdown.

      The wait gave her an opportunity to use her cell phone to book a rental car from an outlet in the terminal. She Google mapped the address McDougall had given her and realized it wasn’t too far from Newark itself. Calculating distance and logistics—though if the line didn’t move any faster she’d have to do the math all over again—Kai figured she might make it to her own apartment in Brooklyn by late afternoon. Which would give her a chance to start editing some of the photos she’d shot in Kuwait.

      Her fingers hovered over her iPhone. She should also call her folks to let them know she was safely home. No. Maybe later, when she really was home.

      “Ms. Westfield?”

      Kai turned to see an airport employee with a cart holding the dog’s crate.

      “This your dog?”

      “Uh, well, yes. I’m in charge of the dog.”

      “Just need to make sure is all—wouldn’t want you to take the wrong animal.”

      She had to wonder how often that had happened. Wouldn’t people recognize their own pets? Unless they were too jet-lagged. Speaking of which, the dog didn’t look as though he’d enjoyed the flight as much as she had. He didn’t even bother raising his head from his forepaws.

      Kai signed the paper the man was holding. “Thanks.”

      “No