Destiny's Revenge (Destiny Series - Book 2) by Straight, Nancy (management books to read .TXT) 📕

if it was something silly. We spent a good fifteen minutes with Peanut. He was definitely someone’s pet, not a guard dog. I was worried that Max would insist on some massive snarling monster, but when I announced that Peanut wanted to adopt me, Max only nodded his agreement.

Max and I wanted to take him home with us right away, but the volunteer gave us the adoption paperwork and told us there was a three day wait for all new adoptions. I filled out the forms, handed them to the volunteer, and said we’d be back in three days. I started for the door when Max caught my attention and asked me to wait at the door, while he asked the lady one more question. About five minutes later Max and Peanut came walking up to me. We headed out the front door, Max all smiles and Peanut’s tongue still hanging to the side of his mouth.

Puzzled, I asked, “What about the mandatory three day waiting period?”

Max shrugged his shoulders, “It turns out they don’t mind bending the rules if you are willing to make a donation.”

“How big a donation did you make?”

“I think enough dog and cat food to keep this facility going for the next three months.”

Shocked, I asked, “Was that really necessary?”

In stereo I heard both Rewsna’s voice in my head and Max’s voice in my ear say, “Yes.”

The last stop was the grocery store. I didn’t want to leave Peanut locked up in the truck by himself, and Max didn’t want to leave me, so we had a half-hearted argument. We compromised. I stayed in the truck with Peanut, and Max pulled my handgun out from under the seat, loaded it right there in the Piggly Wiggly parking lot, and said, “Lock the doors.”

Sitting in the truck with Peanut across my lap, a loaded Beretta within reach, did not instill any real sense of confidence. Instead it gave me a sinking feeling that at any moment a police officer was going to knock on my window and arrest me for being a public menace or something. I watched every car, every face; glaring at the few people who actually made eye contact with me. Fifteen minutes later Max walked out the door pushing a cart full of bags.

He got into the cab. “I don’t want you to think I’m being paranoid or anything, but I don’t want to go back to Ridgeville tonight. I know I’m not turning psychic or anything, but it just seems that if someone were looking for us, that is the very first place they would look.” I thought of that strange feeling I got from the tree line at Max’s place, not of imminent danger but just a seriously uncomfortable sensation.

I agreed with him but didn’t have any suggestions as to where a good alternative might be. My mom’s house maybe, but logically that would be high up on the list for likely locations, too. A hotel would be relatively safe, but now that we had Peanut along, it may not be the most prudent of locations either.

“Let’s go get Gramps and go back to his house for tonight. We can come up with a better plan from there. I called Julio and told him we were going out of town for a couple weeks.” Julio was Max’s caretaker and lived in the guest house. Although technically on vacation, he could take care of the animals. If anything or anyone came looking for us, he shouldn’t be in any real danger. As far as he knew, we were just wandering the countryside.

Chapter 11

Joe lived in a smaller house than Max: three bedrooms and, to my displeasure, one bathroom. The kitchen was compact, the furniture easily older than I was, but it was clean and definitely felt safe. Joe’s closest neighbor was well over a half mile away, so the seclusion could feel a little creepy at night, but more along the lines of horror movie creepy, rather than scary-demon-possessing-beast creepy. Since Max had come back, I was able to sleep with lights off again, but I refused to be by myself in the dark.

Peanut must have understood his job description better than I had given him credit for. He followed me everywhere - to the garden, the barn, around the house, even to the bathroom. The very first night we had him, Max made a nice bed for him on the floor next to my side of the bed, but as soon as the lights went off, he gingerly eased himself into the bed without so much as a squeak from the box spring. I caught him a couple times, each time scolding him and sending him back to the floor, but it turned out to be a force of will thing. Sure enough, when I awoke the next morning, Peanut was there lying at the foot of the bed.

After the second night, I stopped trying to keep him off the bed. I found out the true meaning of giving someone an inch and they take a mile. I decided it would be okay for him to curl up at the foot of the bed. I woke up the following morning desperately clinging to a few inches on the side of the bed while he was spread out with his head on my pillow.

The inconveniences were bearable given the alternative. With Peanut as my shadow, Max still kept a watchful eye, but he didn’t insist on being within a ten foot radius of me. Peanut was great fun. Contrary to our first meeting at the Humane Society, he was familiar with the concept of fetch. He was also the only one in the house that ever eagerly volunteered for dish duty in the kitchen.

As much as I enjoyed our effortless days at Grandpa Joe’s - I knew that it was time for me to get back to Rewsna’s advice of practicing my gift of sight.

I