River Bodies (Northampton County #1)(6)

“I have to go,” she said. “It’s Maggie.”

“Who’s Maggie?” he asked.

“Never mind.” He didn’t know because she had never gotten around to telling him about the dog because he hadn’t come home last night. “I’ll tell you later,” she said, dressing quickly before racing out the door.



The veterinary clinic was a few miles from the condo on the outskirts of town. The town itself was small and largely unincorporated. One of its biggest attractions was the flea market that was open year-round. Most of the land was farmland. In this regard, it resembled Becca’s hometown of Portland, another small, rural community alongside the Delaware River. The major difference between the two was that Becca hadn’t grown up here. Here she wasn’t known solely as the police chief’s daughter.

The townspeople of Columbia knew her as one of the four veterinarians at the clinic who cared for their pets. They knew if their cat or dog or rabbit needed surgery, Becca was the vet to do it. She was the pet surgeon. That was all. And that was the point.

Her colleagues had their own preferences and specialties; one worked exclusively on large animals, another preferred reptiles and snakes, and one specialized in eye exams. But Becca performed the surgeries. She was the one who went in with her hands and fixed whatever was wrong. She took great pleasure in this, the tangible way of repairing the broken parts on beloved pets, something she wasn’t able to do with the people in her life, where she failed at the intangibles, the flaws in personalities that were too big to stitch.

She pulled into the clinic’s parking lot. The dogs in the kennel were awake, barking, waiting for their owners to collect them, take them home. Becca made a mental note to stop and let some of the more companionable pooches out for exercise later in the day. They were operating with half the staff most days, the sign of a struggling economy. She hated to think about all of the yearly physicals that had been canceled recently.

She entered the building through the side door, slipped on her white lab coat. “Hey,” she said to Vicky. Vicky had a special kind of softness, a gentleness the animals sensed and found soothing. Becca’s own unique quality was the smoothness of her voice, the confidence in her touch, her way of saying to the animal, “I won’t hurt you. I’m here to take care of you.”

“Is Maggie’s owner here yet?” she asked.

“She’s up front waiting for you.”

“Okay. I’m going to check on Maggie first before I talk with her.” Becca pulled the dog’s chart, reviewed the ultrasound, confirmed the obstruction. She headed for the boarding room. Vicky followed. She’d been assisting Becca since her first day at the clinic. They were close in age, three years apart, with Vicky the younger of the two. She was the closest thing to a girlfriend Becca had if she didn’t count the four-legged kind.

“How are you feeling?” Becca asked Maggie, stroked the top of the dog’s head. She lifted the dog’s eyelids to look at her pupils. With the stethoscope, she listened to the dog’s heart, stomach. “We’re going to help you with that bellyache, okay?” She patted Maggie’s head again. Maggie responded with a thump of her tail.

“Let me talk with the owner, and then you can get Maggie prepped,” she said to Vicky.

Vicky nodded. “Sure thing.” She paused, searching Becca’s face. “You okay?”

Becca waved her off. “It’s nothing.”

“What did Matt do this time?” Vicky asked and tightened the ponytail at the base of her neck. Inked on the underside of her forearm was the face of Toto, her pet schnauzer that had passed two years ago.

“Why do you automatically jump to the conclusion it has something to do with Matt?”

Vicky shrugged. “Whenever you have that look, the one on your face right now, it always has something to do with Matt.”

“What look?”

“That one.” Vicky pointed at Becca’s face. “Your lips turn down, and your eyebrows knit together. It’s a puss face like that cat that used to be all over the internet.”

“I do not look like Grumpy Cat,” she protested, but the image made her smile. She swatted Vicky playfully. “Let’s get Mags ready.” She turned to leave, then turned back around. “Grumpy Cat? Really?”

“Really,” Vicky said.

Becca headed to the front of the clinic where Maggie’s owner, Stephanie, was waiting. Stephanie stood from the bench upon seeing Becca.

“How’s Maggie?” she asked. Her hair was tied in a sloppy knot, and she was dressed in yoga pants.

“The ultrasound confirmed there’s a blockage. I don’t recommend waiting any longer. It needs to come out.”

“Now?” Stephanie asked. “I don’t want to sound insensitive, but how much is this going to cost me?”

The surgery wasn’t overly expensive, but depending on a person’s budget, it could set them back. “We’ll work out some kind of payment schedule. We really need to do this for Maggie.”

Stephanie rubbed her brow. “Okay,” she said. “I’ll have to find some way to pay.”

Once Stephanie had gone, Becca rejoined Vicky. While Vicky prepped Maggie, Becca put on her mask, scoured for surgery, donned the sterile gown and gloves.