Toss Up (The Toss Trilogy) Read Online Free Page B

his dark tan all-weather coat. Giving him a parting pat as he began to eat, she turned to move on and caught a shadow of movement in the lobby.
    She froze, staring. Heart pounding, she pulled off her scarf and looped it around the Airedale’s neck. It would do for a leash. Pulling the dog close to her side, she grabbed the metal scoop used for portioning out the dog food and held it like a weapon. Moving forward…one step, two… She tried to call out a challenge, but produced only a strangled croak. Swallowing hard, she pushed the words out with force. “Who’s there?”
    The figure of a man, medium height and slim, appeared at the entrance to the kennel area. “Is that you, Sally?” He began to approach, but the Airedale stiffened, growling low in his throat. Looking warily at the dog, the man halted. “It’s me—Mark. Is that your van by the door?”
    Mark Hunter volunteered at the shelter. Owner and manager of Mark’s Spot, a local bar, he wasn’t on the regular schedule, but dropped in to help when he could. Sally found his slightly proprietary attitude toward Diana’s shelter annoying, but he was a strong advocate in the community, and one of their more frequent volunteers.
    She drew a relieved breath. “Mark, I’m so glad it’s you.” For once that was the truth. “You really spooked me.”
    “I’m sorry. I got here early and saw the van parked close. I know you usually walk, so I thought maybe someone was in here that shouldn’t be … The door was unlocked.”
    Hearing the slight reprimand in his voice, Sally regretted her initial friendly response. He was still a pain.
    “I came in to check that everything was okay,” he said.
    “It is. I just decided to drive over today.”
    “How about you? Can I give you a hand?”
    “I’m fine now. I was finishing up feeding the dogs, but I haven’t cleaned the kennel runs yet. Could you do that?”
    “Whatever I can do to help you.” He turned toward the back door, heading for the outdoor access to the runs.
    Sally set the heavy scoop on the portable food bin and looked down at the dog by her side. Fondly, she stroked his back and scratched behind his ears. “Thanks for your support, Max.” She released him back into his pen, replaced the scarf around her neck, and rolled the bin to the next pen and its eager occupant. When the last dog was cared for, Sally r eturned the food bin to its place and, grateful that Mark was taking care of the runs, returned to the lobby.
    Pulling off the scarf and tossing it on her desk, she dropped into a chair. What was wrong with her? She was jumping at shadows. Why was she having such a hard time setting her unease aside? The battle to behave normally was wearing her out. Don’t be absurd, Johnston. It’s only nerves. Deal with it.
    All right, she would. She straightened in her chair. Taking a few deep breaths, yoga style, she plugged the computer into its power source, a ttached the internet cable, and got to work.
     
     
    Lunchtime, at last. Sally needed a break. It had been a busy morning. Five new dogs had been surrendered. She leaned back in her chair, finally finished with the paperwork, and sighed. It was odd how dogs were usually surrendered during the early part of the day, and those fortunate enough to be adopted generally went home with their new owners in the afternoon. She supposed once a family decided a pet could no longer stay in the home, it was easiest to take care of matters early and be done with it.
    Most dogs brought in were large breeds, and that had been the case this morning as well. People always seemed surprised at how big their cute little puppy actually got—she sometimes wondered if people ever bothered to look at an adult dog, or ask about the size of a puppy’s pa rents. But she felt no animosity toward the owners. Each of them had taken the trouble to drive out to a private shelter where dogs were cared for until a forever home was found for them. This morning all five had