The Heat of the Moon: A Rachel Goddard Mystery (Rachel Goddard Mysteries) Read Online Free PDF Page B

pet. It’s illegal, for one thing, because you’re not a licensed wildlife rehabilitator. And you couldn’t take care of it properly.”
    He was getting impatient. “Yeah, I can.”
    He put out a hand for the bat but I held it out of reach. Red-faced, he dropped his arm.
    Time for the heavy weaponry. “Bats carry rabies. You’d never know when it might bite you. And after you’re bitten, you’d have to undergo a long series of very painful injections, which still might not prevent onset of the disease. If you developed rabies, you’d die. There’s no cure.”
    His face had gone from red to white.
    “By the way,” I added, “is your cat up to date on its rabies vaccine?”
    His head bobbed. “Oh, yeah, I get him his shots on time.”
    “Good. But you’d better examine him for bites, and watch him for any signs of illness.” I opened the door with my free hand. “We’ll take care of the bat. And, you know, you really should keep your cat indoors, for its own safety.”
    He started to protest that, but shut his mouth again. He grabbed the cage Dr. Campbell held out and left with a backward glance at the bat, a look that mixed longing and fear.
    “Good grief,” I muttered when he was gone.
    Dr. Campbell, to my relief, burst out laughing.
    “Did I overdo it?” I said, starting to laugh myself. “Somebody’s bound to tell him I lied about the rabies shots. If he knew it’s only two injections now, he’d probably be willing to risk it.”
    “You got rid of the jerk, that’s the main thing. You were a hell of a lot nicer to him than I would’ve been.” He stroked the bat’s head with his index finger. The animal’s eyes were squeezed shut against the glaring overhead light.
    Alison’s high clear voice came over the intercom. “Dr. Campbell, your first appointment is here. Dr. Goddard, your first appointment just drove into the parking lot.”
    He opened the door to leave, casually throwing his words back over his shoulder as he went. “Let’s find some time to sit down together later. I want to talk over something with you.”
    The little breeze my sigh created made the bat flex her big ears and open her dark eyes. “You know what he wants to talk about, don’t you?” I said. She closed her eyes again.
    I turned the bat over to a technician with instructions to feed her meal worms and water, then find a rehabber who could take her back to Herndon and release her that night.
    So the day began, with an animal saved and a seed of worry planted.
    That morning, for the first time I could remember, I’d dreaded coming to work. All through a restless night I was plagued by dreams, some old and familiar, others new and brought on by my encounter with the Coleman child. Morning sunshine couldn’t dispel the dark images. I was afraid they’d stay with me and I’d be fighting all day to keep my mind anchored in the here-and-now. I was sure everybody I worked with was still wondering what had come over me, clinging to a little girl, scaring her with my tight grip and hysterical cries.
    But as I worked through the hours, the dreams faded to the back of my mind, I settled into routine and camaraderie, and I felt a little foolish for expecting my co-workers to dwell on my behavior.
    Only Lucas Campbell gave any sign of remembering that I’d come unhinged in the middle of the reception area the day before.
    In and out of exam rooms, passing through the corridors, returning charts to the front desk, I ran into him everywhere, and he caught my eye each time. His look was speculative, and I didn’t want to consider what it meant. 
    The hospital room reeked of disinfectant when I went in to see Maude in mid-afternoon. Carl, on his knees cleaning one of the lower dog cages, smiled up at me and said, “The little hound dog’s surgery went off real well, I heard.”
    Dr. Campbell stood at the far end of the room, leaning into a cage, his stethoscope on the chest of a big orange tabby cat. If I’d known he