Chapter 3
Kelly's rental was an old apartment on the other side of town, and with the evening rush hour, traffic crawled along the highway.
By the time I finally pulled up beneath her drab, run-down building, the clock on the dashboard had ticked past nine-thirty.
I hurried up the narrow concrete staircase to the third floor and pressed the doorbell of unit 302.
It took a long time before the shuffling sound of slippers approached from inside.
The security door cracked open a sliver. Kelly stood wrapped in a rumpled silk robe, a half-empty glass of red wine in her hand. Under the dim hall light, her makeup was half-smudged, her hair a disheveled mess.
Seeing me standing outside, she arched a thin brow, a flicker of displeasure flashing in her eyes.
"Nora? What are you doing here at this hour?"
"I'm here to get Archie." Having no intention of going inside, I stood right in the drafty hallway. "Put his leash on and bring him out."
Kelly's fingers tightened on the wine glass, and then she offered me an innocent smile.
"Didn't Daniel tell you? Archie is staying with me for a while. What are you making a midnight scene for?"
"I never agreed to that." Seeing that she wasn't moving, I slipped past her and walked straight through the door.
The apartment reeked of an overpowering blend of cloying artificial air freshener and the sour stench of leftover takeout.
The living room was desolate. The brand-new pink dog bowl from the photo lay upside down in the corner of the coffee table, and Archie was nowhere in sight.
There wasn't even a sound.
"Where is Archie?" My heart sank heavily.
Kelly took her time closing the security door, her tone dripping with nonchalance.
"In the laundry room. He was being way too rowdy, pacing around the living room and scratching at my bedroom door. The scratching was giving me a pounding headache. My insomnia has been terrible lately, so I had to lock him up."
Ignoring her, I marched down the hallway and yanked open the narrow folding wooden door of the laundry room.
A wave of musty, damp air hit my face.
The light inside was off.
By the faint light spilling from the hallway, I saw Archie squeezed tightly into the gap—less than two feet wide—between the front-loading washer and the dryer.
A filthy towel lay on the floor, beside an empty stainless steel water bowl.
The bottom was bone-dry, with several shed hairs clinging to it.
"Archie?" I knelt down, my voice trembling slightly.
Archie lifted his head, his golden eyes reflecting a faint gleam in the gloom.
Instead of jumping up as usual, he let out a very low, muffled whimper, his tail tucked tight between his hind legs, his entire body shuddering violently.
Kelly padded over in her slippers to the laundry room doorway.
"See? I told you he's completely fine! He just lacks discipline. I was only helping you teach him some manners—"
"Shut up!"
The moment Kelly's voice suddenly spiked, Archie cringed desperately into the corner, his neck pressing flat against the tiles.
Every hair on his body bristled, his eyes filled with an undeniable, almost human terror.
He was terrified of her.
Archie was naturally gentle and friendly, always wagging his tail to greet even the mail carrier for pats.
"What did you do to him?" Seeing Archie like this, I stood up, glaring at Kelly as she leaned against the doorframe.
Stung by my gaze, Kelly took an awkward sip of wine, her voice turning shrill.
"What could I have done to him? He kept scratching the door and whining, making it impossible for me to watch TV! I gave him a little lesson and put him in there so he'd be quiet."
She set down her glass and crossed her arms, blocking the doorway.
"Daniel told me Archie is in my care now. He said as long as it makes me feel better, I can keep him here for as long as I want. If you take him away right now, I'm calling Daniel immediately."
I didn't even look at her, not bothering to waste another breath.
Pulling the spare nylon leash from the side pocket of my purse, I bent back down and gently stroked Archie's tense, trembling back.
"Archie, it's okay. Mom's taking you home."
I clipped the leash onto his collar and patted his chest, signaling for him to get up and follow me.
Archie struggled to prop up his front half.
However, the moment he tried to stand on his hind legs, his right back leg curled tightly toward his belly, hovering off the floor as his balance gave way.
A sharp, pained yelp tore from his throat, and no matter what, he refused to let that right paw touch the ground.