The Rescue

49

Bettina follows Wade Johnson’s truck under the sweeping porte cochere of the Delgados’ La Jolla mansion, and all four travelers disembark.

“My uncle and aunt are in Hawaii,” says Teddy with a glance at Mr. Johnson. “Want to come in? Our nanny won’t mind and my cousins are cool.”

“No, thank you.”

But she kneels and lets Joe clamber up against her; he leans in, full body weight, licking her temple and hair, favorites of his for the forty-odd days he’s had her in his life.

A boy roughly Teddy’s age comes to the front porch, a skateboard in one hand. Joe bounds over to greet him, then back to Teddy.

Who comes to Bettina and gives her an awkward hug. “Please visit soon.”

“I will.”

“You won’t be sad forever.”

Blubbering unrepentantly, Bettina picks up the freeway, heading not north for Laguna but south for Tijuana.

Half an hour later, she’s parked across the street from the Clínica de Veterinarea de San Francisco de Asís, adjusting the rearview for a look at her face, dabbing away the smeared mascara. Her blouse is damp at the neckline, and she’s got Strickland’s fifty grand in her purse.

They have good dogs here, she thinks:

You can do this, Blazak.