Chapter Two

      Half an hour later Piper glanced over at April who was sprawled on the floor flipping through a coloring book. As her father had instructed, April had taken the dogs outside and put them in their run.

      Being around April was proving to be educational, and it helped that Martha Cummings and her cat Gypsy had arrived early for their appointment with Kyle.

      “I think I saw Kyle’s truck pull in,” Martha Cummings said, cutting into Piper’s wandering thoughts.

      Since arriving at the clinic ten minutes before nine, Martha had been casting disapproving glances at Piper.

      When Kyle entered, Piper felt a mixture of relief and joy at the sight of him. His mouth curved into a polite smile, but she could see the lines of worry around his mouth.

      “Daddy, you’re back!” April hopped up and ran to her father. “Is Uncle Frank all right?”

      “Hi, sweetheart! I’m afraid I don’t know how Uncle Frank is. I’m sure Nana will call and let us know. Have you been a good girl?”

      April nodded. “When is Nana coming back?”

      “I told her we’d pick her up later. Right now I need to take care of things around here.” He turned to the small group of people seated with their pets. “I’m sorry I kept you all waiting. If you’ll give me a few minutes, we’ll get started.”

      He crossed to where Piper sat at the desk. She held out a file folder. “Mrs. Cummings and Gypsy are first.”

      “Thanks. How was April? No trouble, I hope.”

      “None at all,” Piper replied.

      “I see you managed to find your way around the filing system,” he said, waving the file at her. His smile this time reached his eyes, and Piper felt her heart kick into high gear.

      “In a fashion,” Piper answered. From what she’d been able to determine as she sifted through the papers on the desk, major reorganizing was necessary.

      “Thanks,” he said before turning away. “Mrs. Cummings, if you’d like to bring Gypsy into examination room one, please.”

      “Daddy, can I come with you?” April asked.

      “Sure,” Kyle replied easily. For the next hour Kyle, with his daughter’s help, took care of the pets brought in by their owners.

      Relieved of her responsibility to watch over April, Piper turned to her task of sorting through mail and searching for pertinent files.

      Without a computer to keep track of billing or an updated list of clients and their pets, his system seemed somewhat archaic. From what she could discern after a quick perusal of his filing cabinets, his previous receptionist had devised a system all her own.

      And as for his financial records, his receptionist had had to run things the old-fashioned way, using ledgers. A search of the desk drawers had uncovered several years’ worth, along with a metal cash box with a key taped to its underside.

      Each time Kyle emerged from an examination room, he dropped the departing patient’s file into the wire basket on Piper’s desk. Clipped to the outside was a sheet of paper with a breakdown of the reason for the visit and the charges.

      “Okay, Mrs. Baxter,” Kyle said a little later as he escorted the middle-aged woman carrying a cat cage to the door. “Give Whiskers one pill with his food for the next five days. That should take care of the problem. Bring him back next week, and I’ll check him again.”

      “Thank you, Dr. Masters. What do I owe you?” Mrs. Baxter asked.

      Kyle shook his head. “There’s no charge.”

      “Thank you…that’s very kind of you.”

      From her vantage point behind the desk Piper watched the exchange, noting the look of relief that appeared in Marion Baxter’s eyes. She remembered the Baxter family. Their son, Ricky, had been a grade behind her in high school. Ricky had been the eldest of six children, and Piper remembered hearing some of the kids in school saying Ricky’s father liked to drink, and that he often drank his wages away before his wife had a chance to buy food for her family.

      “Daddy, I’m hungry!” April announced when the door closed behind Mrs. Baxter.

      “Me, too,” he replied. He glanced at his wristwatch. “It’s almost time for lunch. What shall we have?”

      “Hot dogs!”

      Piper heard Kyle sigh and tried not to smile. His rapport with his daughter was so relaxed, so natural and loving, she envied his easygoing manner.

      “Hot dogs it is,” she heard Kyle say. “Just as long as you promise to drink all your milk.”

      “I promise!” April ran up to Piper. “Wanna have a hot dog with us?” April stared at her expectantly.

      Piper had planned to walk over to Main Street and grab a bite at one of the cafés before driving home.

      “If you aren’t into hot dogs, I make a mean cheese-and-tomato sandwich.”

      Kyle’s comment brought her gaze up to meet his. His gray eyes sparkled and Piper felt her pulse skip a beat. “It would be my way of saying thanks.”

      Piper felt her face grow warm. “I’m glad I could help.”

      “So, what do you say? Hot dog or sandwich?” he persisted, a hint of challenge in his voice.

      “A sandwich, please.”

      His smile flashed once more, and this time her heart slammed against her rib cage.

      “Good! I’ll lock up here, and we can go upstairs.”

      April was already off and running.

      Piper hadn’t known what to expect as she climbed the stairs to the apartment, certainly not the spacious living area with windows stretching its entire length.

      “What a lovely apartment,” she commented.

      “Thank you. We like it,” Kyle responded. “April, bathroom please, and don’t forget to wash your hands,” her father ordered. “Make yourself at home, Piper. I’ll give you a shout when lunch is ready,” he said before following April down the hall.

      Piper glanced around the room noting the old but well-cared-for sofa and easy chair, two small oak tables at either end of the sofa, and a matching coffee table.

      Every surface was shiny and dust-free. The room was warm and welcoming with only a few toys scattered around, a gentle reminder that a child also occupied the space.

      On top of the television set in the corner Piper spotted a row of photographs. Each picture was of April taken at various stages in her young life, from infancy up to a recent shot of her sitting on a grassy lawn with Mutt and Jeff.

      She studied it more closely, deciding from the bad lighting and relatively poor color quality, it was an enlarged snapshot. Whoever had developed it hadn’t done a very good job. But even so, the photographer had captured the essence of the blue-eyed, golden-haired child whose smile was a replica of her father’s.

      It had been a long time since she’d done any developing work, but Piper was sure that if she had access to the negative she could produce a better quality picture.

      The only trouble was, she didn’t have any of her equipment with her. She’d packed everything, including her cameras, into a crate then arranged to have it shipped home.

      Piper replaced the photo and crossed to the window. She’d forgotten that the property stretched as far back as it did, tapering off down a gentle grassy incline to a gully beyond.

      On the left was a small vegetable