“I did post it,” Seyla answered. “It’s right…there.” She pointed to the closed stainless steel door separating them from the surgery suite.
It wasn’t there.
The disapproving frown on Janet’s face carved a deeper path into her features. “Sure. Anyway, he wants to see you. It doesn’t sound good.” She sighed again. “I doubt your parents’ connections can protect you this time.” Janet turned to leave, then threw out a parting shot. “The old manager had the schedule posted three days in advance. The director’s used to a more organized approach.” With the remark burning through the air like acid, she turned on her heel and exited the room, not bothering to close the door behind her.
From her chair, Seyla stared at the shiny metal door where she taped the schedule once a week. I’m sure I put it up there. What is going on?Had Janet removed it to get her in trouble? Or was she becoming paranoid? She searched the floor and under everything. No schedule.
She dragged a hand over her face and out to her chin.Ouch! She winced at the fiery sensation, followed by a dull ache. With hesitant fingers, she checked the cut on her cheek for blood. Nothing.
Would Janet go that far? Another thought surfaced. Would she go even farther? No. Janet hated her, but she loved the animals. She wouldn’t jeopardize them or her job by resorting to murder. Bullying and troublemaking? Absolutely. But murder? No, it didn’t make sense.
She stood and stretched her back. She peered into the hallway, checking both paths that circled back to the lobby of the U-shaped building housing new arrivals, staff members, surgery patients, volunteers, and animals with acute injuries. She waved to one of their veterinary technicians, Tara Cohen, who held an unconscious opossum sporting a bandaged leg. Tara padded over to her. “Do me a favor?” she murmured.
“Of course,” Seyla answered.
“I need to get this catheter out before Blink wakes.”
Seyla grinned. “Nice name.” She held the young creature while Tara removed the IV catheter and rebandaged the leg.
Her hands sank into the animal’s thick fur coat. Its chest rose and fell with each breath, its color a healthy pink. Blink’s head twitched, then settled into her elbow joint. Seyla’s heart melted, awed by the privilege of serving as a safe place for the animal. “How did her recheck go?”
“The wound has healed with no complications. We’ll start reintroduction to the wild next week.” Tara smiled and patted the animal’s head.
“That’s what I like to hear.” Seyla handed the sweet little bundle to Tara and returned to her office.
The smile on her face evaporated with one look at the surgical suite door. If Janet was sabotaging her work, there was no way to prove it. What if her actions caused Seyla to lose her job? The thought left a hollow pit in her stomach. What if it prevented her from getting another job in this field altogether? The pit deepened.
No. Not this time.
Seyla steeled herself, tamping down the anger and helplessness. She refused to accept the role of a victim any longer. Somehow, she’d find a way to defend herself against Janet’s sabotage, verbal attacks and, if necessary, physical ones too.
After shutting the office door and retrieving the schedule from the computer file, she tapped the print button.
The door flung open again. Seyla flinched.
Jessa Waters burst through the doorway, a shipping box cradled in her arms. Headed straight for her. Behind her entered Chase Emmerlin, the son of Bennett Emmerlin, one of the original three founders.
“Are you okay?” Jessa, the sanctuary veterinarian, dropped the box on a supply counter to hug her.
“Careful, Jessa, or you’ll break one of those porcelain doll pieces.”
Jessa shook her head, but opened the box to inspect the parts. “I’m more worried about you.” She frowned at Seyla, then lifted a doll head from the package and narrowed her eyes at it.
Seyla diverted her gaze to the floor. The dolls looked creepy to her, but she didn’t want to tell her new friend that and hurt the woman’s feelings after learning how important they were to her family.
Porcelain doll restoration was a multigenerational hobby in the Waters family, and Jessa upheld that tradition with pride. After thieves had stolen a box off of her condo’s front stoop, she’d redirected the shipments to the sanctuary. Since then, someone had repeatedly planted the heads in Seyla’s desk drawers to scare her. Most likely Janet.
Jessa shut the box again, jarring Seyla loose from her thoughts. Right in time to see Chase eyeing the box, his mouth twisted down on one side in revulsion. When their eyes met, he pursed his lips, then slapped a hand over his mouth and winked.
“Vanessa told us what happened yesterday.”
Seyla squinted, scrambling to remember the topic. Oh. Right. The attack on the trail. Jax Marcum.
Jessa eyed the cut on her cheek and fussed over the scrapes on her legs below her tan shorts. “You should have let Chase check you over. He used to be an EMT.”
Seyla’s nerves rang with panic.
Had Vanessa told them about the note? Or only the attack itself?