A while later, Matt and I were seated outside at a familystyle restaurant with Zoey and Rex lying happily at our feet. Matt was in casual civilian garb, including a navy T-shirt that hugged his substantial chest and biceps, which made me relish the evening as a hot date. Or maybe it was my need to celebrate in as many ways as possible that enhanced my awareness.

I still wore my usual HotRescues outfit. I hadn’t had the time or inclination to don anything sexier, but judging from Matt’s appreciative glances in my direction, he didn’t care.

“We need a bottle of wine,” I told him. “To celebrate. My treat.”

He laughed. “No, mine. I need to toast the heroine of the day. And night.” His dark eyebrows lifted suggestively, and it was my turn to laugh. And nod as I felt my cheeks redden.

We took our time over dinner and wine, but hurried back to my place when we were through.

Where we carried out my celebration more personally . . .

So did the reports on radio, TV, and Internet about the arrest of Darya Price for the murder of Bethany Urber. Not to mention the pleased chatter from my shelter staff and volunteers.

I got a call from Miguel, who sounded really glad that his girlfriend’s murderer had been caught. “I talked to both of her ex-husbands already, too. They told me to thank you.”

Interesting, since I didn’t gather they were high on the authorities’ suspect list—or mine, either, for that matter. Nor did they particularly miss Bethany. Maybe they had just grown tired of being questioned.

Then there was Mamie. I didn’t have to call her; she called me. Without animals in her life, she probably spent a lot of time watching television. “Lauren! It’s so wonderful! That poor Darya, though. I know she and Bethany argued a lot because of Bethany’s nastiness to her, too—but Bethany was nasty to everyone. We all hated her.”

“Murder’s a pretty extreme reaction, though. And even with Darya now in custody, I’d suggest you not go around talking about how much you hated Bethany. Darya hasn’t been convicted yet.”

“Oh. Right. I get it.” She paused. “See you tomorrow. Right? That’s when your fund-raiser will be?”

“Yes. See you then.”

I had a surprise for her. One of the dogs we’d taken in at HotRescues this week had been her favorite, Herman. Even if she remained forbidden from keeping any animals, she could visit him here. We wouldn’t push to find him a new home.

Matt called soon afterward—not just to congratulate me, or to thank me for last night, although he did both of those, too, which warmed my heart, and other parts of me, even more. “I’ll be there later with the members of the Small Animal Rescue Team,” he said. “They’ll set up their equipment this afternoon and do some practice runs in anticipation of tomorrow, if that’s okay.”

“Absolutely.”

“One more thing I need to let you know. Things are in chaos around Happy Saved Animals. Darya’s husband isn’t there, and the staff isn’t proving capable of taking care of the animals. We’ll probably need to take them all into Animal Services custody, but I’m not sure how many we’ll be able to keep.”

Meaning that the rest might be put down for lack of space.

“I’ll find a place for any that need it,” I assured him, even as my mind began somersaulting over all the issues. I’d just gotten help from a lot of other rescuers, but not all in the area or beyond. Plus, I hadn’t pushed hard to enlist the help of fosterers, but I would now if that became necessary.

One thing that would help was that my own facility’s added space would be available soon. I’d just have to make it happen faster, if necessary. Lives were in the balance.

“Great,” Matt said. “Why am I not surprised? We can talk about it later.”

Matt was with them. He introduced me again to Renz Sharp—short for Lorenzo—the team leader whom I’d seen at the puppy mill rescue along with some of the others. Renz was of moderate height and wiry, with light brown hair and a broad and friendly smile. Like the other SmART members, Renz wore a darker brown T-shirt with a round logo that said Los Angeles Animal Services, Small Animal Rescue Team. Each had a short, appropriate nickname—a play on their real names—stamped in white on their shirts. Their work pants were deep green. Two were women, five were men, and all were friendly.

After introducing them to our staff and volunteers, and giving them a quick tour of the open part of our facility, I took them next door to show them the building that would be the center of their exercise. In addition to long metal tubes, each carried a large fabric bag that looked heavy, and undoubtedly contained part of their equipment.

I wasn’t able to stay with them while they got ready, but they began adding safety equipment to their uniforms, including helmets, vests, and knee pads.

“It’ll take them a while to get prepared,” Matt said. “I’ll come get you when they’re ready to start testing their setup.”

About forty-five minutes later, he came for me. I left Nina in the welcome area, poor thing, but someone had to be there in case any potential adopters arrived. She’d be back tomorrow to see the demonstration, so she was okay with it.

Everyone else came with me, Matt included.

The training session held by SmART was utterly amazing.

By the time I returned to our new building’s second floor, they had already positioned things up on the balcony with a large metal tripod anchored by nylon rope to a heavy floor-to-ceiling pole they had set up inside. They had also run several thick strands of rope over the balcony rail to the ground below.

“We’re going to do what we call a MARS exercise,” Renz told me from beneath his red helmet. “That stands for Mock Animal Rescue Scenario. We need to be prepared for all kinds of rescues, including where animals have fallen down cliffs or other mountainous terrain. The best way to get to them is for some of us to traverse down lines like these to wherever they are, which may not be the bottom. Then we’d determine if we can take them all the way down from wherever they are and get them out from there, or if we have to haul our team members and the animals back up. We don’t usually have the same issues off buildings, but this is a good training situation just in case.”

I looked at the nylon lines strung downward, hitched together by metal gadgets I’d heard the team members refer to as carabiners. There were also pulleys and other gizmos. Thanks to taking my kids to amusement parks and fairs within the last few years, I recognized what this really was. Not that I’d encouraged Tracy and Kevin to participate in scary rides like that, but they’d insisted. I’d only watched, though.

“That looks like a zip-line,” I said. “You just hook up to it and ride down on those pulleys, right?”

“Exactly. Ready to see this?”

I definitely was, and so were the other HotRescues people who’d joined me.

With some remaining at the top and others at the bottom to make sure the system remained stable, SmART team members slid down the lines one by one. Men and women were equally adept, and the exercises went perfectly.

We clapped and cheered as we watched. I felt glad it was them, and not me, sailing down those ropes. None of them looked scared. I’d have been terrified. I was okay with heights, as long as I was on something substantial, like a building.

“That’s amazing!” I said to Matt.

“What’s really amazing,” he reminded me, “is that these folks are all volunteers, even though they work for Animal Services. They buy most of their equipment unless it’s donated.”

I’d talk to Dante, but I was sure that no matter what kind of money we brought in from our fund-raiser tomorrow, he’d send a healthy contribution their way.

Eventually, each team member had taken a turn zipping down the line. They’d do the same thing all over again tomorrow, the demonstration they had promised as part of the fund-raiser for animal rescues that would also publicize HotRescues.

The public was in for a great event, and so were we.

“We’ll just leave everything set up for tomorrow, if that’s all right,” Renz said.

“Fine. We have security around all night, so no one should bother anything.”

But it turned out I was wrong—and not for any reason I could ever have anticipated.

Despite feeling some regret, I sent Matt home so I could return to HotRescues. He understood, since his earlier announcement about the possible demise of Happy Saved Animals was one reason I needed to go back and work on logistics.

At the shelter, I left my purse in my desk drawer and went outside with a notepad and pen in my hand, saying hi to the medium and large dogs on both sides of the shelter path as they greeted me. “You’re going to get even more company soon,” I told them, but they didn’t give me their opinions—at least none I interpreted from their continued barking.

Brooke, the only human still around, was in the middle of her early walk-through under the shelter lights, with both Cheyenne and Zoey accompanying her. I told her about my dilemma.

“That sucks,” she said, when I told her Matt’s assessment of how endangered the pets from Darya’s shelter now were.

“It sure does.”

“Need me to do anything?” she asked.

“Nothing any different from your usual great security job,” I said. “Come on, Zoey.” We went through the gate into the new property so I could look around and stew over the problem. A lot of dogs behind us still kept up their noise. I knew my statement hadn’t made them any more nervous than usual, but figured they were continuing to grump to Brooke.

I could have asked my staff members to help figure out how to handle this, but it was up to me to ensure that things get done right. Micromanagement? Who cared? This time, I needed to reassess the amount of space we’d have for more endangered pets once the new part of the shelter opened, and to figure out how we could open it faster—like right away.

The building, though close to being done, wouldn’t be usable for a few more weeks. Most of the outside enclosures had already been started, but they still needed a lot of work.

No matter what Darya had done to Bethany, the animals in her shelter could not be permitted to suffer for it. Here or somewhere else, they’d be taken in and cared for.

I made notes as Zoey and I walked around. Not all the lights on the adjoining property were hooked up yet, but enough that I could see.

The configuration of the new enclosures would nearly double our capacity. Maybe we could shoehorn in most of the endangered pets, for a while, at least, if we came close to finishing our new areas. The outdoor fencing was up, but the long, shedlike indoor areas where the animals—mostly dogs—could go to get out of sun or rain, or just veg out, had only just been started. If necessary, we could bring in dogs of all sizes, and even cats, and somehow provide temporary covers for them. Maybe Dante would have suggestions of items HotPets could provide.

Zoey suddenly stopped walking and just stood on the path beside me, growling. Even baring her teeth. That wasn’t like her.

“What’s wrong, girl?” I asked.

She lunged forward, toward the nearest door to the building, though it was closed. Had some wild creature gotten inside? I hoped not, but at least if it had, it would be isolated. I could call Matt and he’d be able to get me some help. First, I wanted to see what it was.

Oddly, I remembered another situation where I’d gone into our back shed building and found that a very human enemy had set up a trap for me and one of our rescue dogs . . .

But that was months ago, and that situation had been resolved.

Just in case, though, I didn’t want Zoey to get into an ugly situation where she could get attacked by a coyote or even a raccoon, or sprayed by a skunk, if it did turn out to be a local wild creature.

“Sit,” I told her. “Stay.”

She looked at me reproachfully, but no dog was smarter or more obedient than a Border collie, the most obvious part of her background. She sat and stayed as I opened the building’s door.

I reached for the light to flick it on. Too late, I noticed movement off to my side.

In a moment, when light flooded the downstairs area, I saw what had caused it.

A wild animal? Maybe—but one in human form. It was Darya’s husband—Lan Price.

He was brandishing a knife, and before I could react, he had grabbed me.