The Great Escape: Soul Mutts, #4

By Lori R. Taylor

Dogs are the best judge of character.

 

Eliza Jacobson has always been the black sheep of her mega-successful family, who runs the HealthNut Corporation. She's not as pretty, talented, and business-savvy as her older sister. But she loves volunteering to work with the dogs at Pretty Paws, especially Athena, a Great Dane whose high-anxiety habits make her nearly unadoptable.

 

After her last-chance opportunity to become a vet tech collapses, she takes a job at the call center of HealthNut's competitor, Thetalife Supplements, where she meets the dashing, charming, sweep-you-off-your-feet CEO, Tony Costos. She thinks she may have finally found her Prince Charming and the fairytale life she's always dreamed of.

 

At first, Tony showers her with compliments and gifts. But when he adopts Athena to use as the Thetalife mascot, Eliza finds herself shielding the dog from Tony's temper, and the Great Dane's increasingly anxious behavior mirrors Eliza's own growing unease.

 

Will Athena's friendship give Eliza the courage to stand up to Tony before his dark ambitions destroy everyone she loves?

 

The Great Escape is the fourth book in the Soul Mutts series, heartwarming stories of lost dogs finding new homes with the humans they were born to heal.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Sterling & Stone
• Release date: Oct 18, 2021
• ISBN: 9798201805869

Book preview

Chapter One

Athena wasn’t trying to cower under the gaze of the strange man, but she couldn’t help herself — he was looking at her, hard, his expression intense, and she knew what that sort of look meant when directed at her.

It meant she was being examined and found lacking.

She didn’t have much in this hard-floored, metal-barred kennel to hide herself with. The bed helped — its walls were high enough to shield her from a part of his gaze — but it wasn’t enough.

But it was all she had. She crouched down into the bed, her head low. Her hips ached.

The man wouldn’t stop looking at her, and now he frowned, wrinkling his forehead at her like she’d gone and disappointed him in some way. What’s wrong with this one?

Another person, a woman Athena recognized as being one of the regular folks inside these new walls, joined the man in front of Athena’s door. She put a hand on his arm and nudged him along. There’s nothing wrong with her. She’s fine. She just gets like that sometimes.

The man and the woman moved away from her kennel, and the clenching knot in Athena’s stomach loosened a little. She could hear them still talking even over the barking of other dogs as they walked away.

Why? the man asked, his voice raised.

Athena pressed herself back into the softness of the bed. She understood that he wasn’t really yelling at her, that his voice was raised only because he was still talking to the woman over the waves of barking that echoed almost deafeningly against the hard walls of the kennels, but he was still raising his voice, and that was always something to be wary of.

She didn’t hear the woman’s answer. The sounds of them were drowned out by the dogs.

Eliza sat in the chair in front of the doctor’s desk, her hands folded neatly on her lap and not at all sweating.

(She was an okay liar, sometimes able even to convince herself, so she hoped that by lying very firmly and deciding that her palms weren’t sweating with dread, that would make it true.

It didn’t.)

The door behind her opened and closed, and Dr. Alyson Kessler sat down on the proper side of her desk. Eliza.

You wanted to see me? Eliza prompted when Dr. Kessler didn’t immediately mention what she’d called her in for.

Yes. I’m sorry to keep you waiting.

This was a lie — as Eliza was a decent liar, she could spot another decent liar from a mile off. Dr. Kessler wasn’t sorry at all for the wait. She’d orchestrated it, calling Eliza in and then excusing herself for the bathroom before anything else had been said just to make Eliza sweat. (Yes, she had to admit to herself that she was sweating.)

It was a clever, cruel power move. Eliza could recognize those for miles. You don’t grow up in the family she had without learning to spot a power move and a decent liar from as far away as a person themselves.

But Eliza also knew that calling out someone who’d just power-moved on you was a good way to get into much more trouble than anything was worth, so she just dipped her head and accepted Kessler’s apology. It’s fine, she said.

I called you in here because I think it’s time to address your behavior.

Eliza frowned. My behavior?

It’s unacceptable.

What did I—

Kessler silenced her with a look. Another power move on the older woman’s part. Eliza hadn’t realized when she first started here that Dr. Kessler was the sort of woman who power-moved on people — she’d seemed like a nice woman when Eliza first talked to her. The sort that wouldn’t drop drama and emotional manipulation on her.

The mix-up with Harold, Kessler said at last. It never should’ve happened.

Obviously.

You should’ve caught it.

I was following the instructions.

But how could you not have asked about how little food he was getting?

Eliza gritted her teeth. This was getting out of hand. They’d already had an all-staff meeting to talk about this one mistake, already made it clear that Eliza was at fault because she didn’t ask any further questions about the instructions and never once bothered to address who’d written down the wrong instructions in the first place.

It was Vicky, the head tech, who’d made the initial mistake, who’d recorded 1.5 cans twice a day as one-fourth can once a day. But Vicky was untouchable, unquestionable. Perfect in everything she did, no matter how any of her mistakes might ripple through anyone else’s job performance. Eliza hadn’t seen anyone mention how it was clearly Vicky’s handwriting on the intake form, a clear 1/4 can SID written in the line for Harold’s diet.

No one wondered how Vicky could’ve gotten it so wrong — they only pressed all the blame onto Eliza because she was the unpaid extern who fed the cats in the boarding room.

Eliza following instructions was unacceptable. Vicky giving her bad instructions was ignored entirely.

Eliza didn’t say any of this. She knew it wouldn’t actually matter to Dr. Kessler who had done what or where the actual mistake had been made. Kessler already knew she was to blame, and that was that.

We’re here to care for the cats. We can’t be making such dangerous mistakes for them.

Of course, Eliza agreed, as if it were perfectly obvious.

(It was. Kessler was just blind to the spot where things actually broke down.)

So I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to leave.

I — what?

Eliza was about to apologize, about to ask forgiveness for her role in almost hurting that poor old cat. Because she had been suspicious about the amount of food he was getting — one-fourth of a five-ounce can every day was awfully little, especially for a Maine Coon his size. She hadn’t said anything only because she recognized the directions as being Vicky’s handwriting, and Vicky was the best tech Eliza had ever worked with.

Her arrogance, the fact that she refused to be questioned, unlike most arrogant people Eliza had ever known, wasn’t actually based on bluff and air — Vicky could back it up with performance.

Besides, Harold’s owner was a finicky sort, the type of person who probably tried to order fries at a salad bar and salads at a BBQ joint. If anyone would ever insist on feeding their fifteen-pound Maine Coon less than an ounce of food a day, it was Lynn Becker.

The whole thing had been mistakes all the way down, and yes, Eliza had played a part, even if a more minor one, in not catching it before the poor cat began leaking weight like water.

So Eliza was prepared to apologize for not asking questions like she ought. She was only following orders, but then, since when did the Nurmberg defense actually justify one’s actions anyway?

So Dr. Kessler telling her she was fired — can you be fired from an unpaid extern position? Well, yes, apparently — was not the situation she was prepared for, not the thing she’d opened her mouth to respond to.

This isn’t the first time you’ve put our patients in danger, Dr. Kessler continued, ignoring the sudden stutter to Eliza’s response. We can’t keep allowing that.

Wait. Her voice was barely a squeak, too quiet for even her own ears to hear. She grumbled her throat clear. When have I ever—?

She didn’t know what Kessler was talking about. The Harold mix-up was fresh, caught by the other tech Micah three days ago when she looked into Harold’s condo and noticed how much weight he’d lost since the last time she saw him.

But that was the only major mistake Eliza had ever been alerted to here. She’d had others — during one memorable time at Dr. Andrews’ Chester clinic’s trap-neuter-release day she’d caught the oxygen in the surgical mask on fire with a misplaced touch of a cautery, but that wasn’t at Cats.

(That place had been outright conspiring against her; the fire she’d caused there had been a setup. She was glad at least that the cat in that oxygen mask hadn’t been hurt beyond a few singed whiskers.)

Eliza grumbled her throat again. The lump she thought she’d cleared from it a minute before was back, heavy and hard to breathe around while Dr. Alyson Kessler pursed her lips and stared daggers at her.

I didn’t mean to, Eliza said at last, faintly.

I know that, but it’s your carelessness that troubles me. You don’t mean to, and yet you do.

It was one stupid mistake!

No. It was a long series of them, proving that you can’t be trusted to pay attention.

It wasn’t even me. I know I screwed up not saying anything, but c’mon — Vicky was the one who filled out the form. She was the one who got it wrong in the first place.

Kessler’s voice turned to acid. Vicky shouldn’t be filling out boarding intakes. She has other things to do.

Kessler didn’t say more important, but the words were there, heavily enough implied that Eliza couldn’t fail to hear them anyway.

I’m sorry, Eliza, and I wish you well, but I can’t risk my customers and patients like this. I have to protect my own. You understand.

It wasn’t a question, those final words. Not a check to see if she did understand, but a statement spoken as if to will it true whether Eliza liked it or not.

Eliza exhaled, long and low, and got back to her feet. Her body felt weird, her legs tingling like they’d fallen asleep. The light blue scrubs scratched against prickling skin. Right. Okay. Whatever.

I’m sorry.

But this was another of Kessler’s power moves, just like the apology about going to the bathroom had been. She wasn’t sorry. She probably wasn’t even thinking about her anymore, now that Eliza was standing and moving as if out of the office.

No one stopped her. No one even looked her way as Eliza gathered her coat and street clothes and left the office.

No one said goodbye.

Chapter Two

Eliza’s phone buzzed as she tossed herself into the car, the familiar strain of the Darth Vader theme bouncing through the phone’s tinny speakers. Eliza groaned, long and low, and pressed her forehead to the top of her steering wheel.

She couldn’t ignore the call. She knew what would happen if she did, and it was never better to put off that ring tone.

But today of all days, now of all times — she was not prepared for this call.

Without pulling her head off the steering wheel, Eliza reached for the phone, buzzing and blaring its ominous horns.

Hello, Mother, she said.

How do you always know?

Cecelia Jacobson was the queen of asking questions she didn’t actually want the answers to. Eliza didn’t bother to try it.

She lifted her forehead from the wheel and started the car, switching her over to the car’s Bluetooth. What’s up?

Manners, Eliza!

Sorry. (She wasn’t.) What do you want?

Cecelia hmphed like a Victorian in a snit. Can’t a mother just call to say hello to her daughter?

A regular mother maybe, Eliza thought, though she, of course, didn’t speak her mind. But her mother never called just to say hello; there was always some other reason for it.

Eliza let the question go unanswered, and Cecelia didn’t waste any time to get to the important bit anyway. You are coming tonight, aren’t you?

Again, that question-that-wasn’t-a-question. Eliza couldn’t say no, so what was even the point of asking?

Of course, Mother. It’s already on my calendar.

She’d tried to say no once, back when she was younger and stupidly believed that she, as an individual separate from her mother in all ways that mattered, had the power to refuse one of those not-actually-a-questions.

She hadn’t tried it a second time.

I want you to wear that new dress I bought you, Cecelia said, interrupting the wisp of memory. Her natural accent was Southern, but it had slipped into full Southern belle a few years ago and hadn’t found its way home again.

Yes, Mother.

And none of those tacky earrings, you hear? This is for the stockholders. White tie. Invitation only.

I know, Mother.

Your father and I will pick you up at 5:45. On the dot, you hear? I won’t be kept waitin’. We’d send Marina, but she’ll already be there for those last-minute preparations.

Yes, Mother.

Of course Cecelia had to slip in a jab about how Marina was the better option, the better sister, the better daughter. Eliza hadn’t even been asked to help with preparations.

Not that she wanted to spend her entire spring listening to her mother go on about the stockholder gala, complain and moan about how this wasn’t right and that had to be changed, but it never stopped stinging to find that she hadn’t even been asked.

Stupid, contradictory things, feelings were. If only she could turn them off, she was sure she’d live a life of peace and contentment.

Where are you? What is that noise?

It was the noise of her car on the road. Eliza told her so.

You’re driving? While on the phone?

It’s hands-free.

It isn’t the hands that are the problem. It’s the attention.

There was her opening. You’re right. I should hang up.

Eliza’s thumb hovered over the end-call button on her steering wheel, but Cecelia was still talking. 5:45, you hear? On the dot. I will be very cross if you make us late to our own gala.

Yes, Mother. Eliza couldn’t quite keep the single note of irritation out of her voice.

On. The. Dot, Liza.

I know, Mother.

Good. We’ll see you tonight.

5:45, Eliza repeated, then huffed out a breath when the other line finally went dead.