Read Online A Shattering Crime by Jennifer McAndrews - Free Book Online

reminded me I could still love another being. Without her close by, how was I going to rest? How could I let Dr. Bucherati take her away from me, even if it was just for one night?
    I knew without doubt that she had not ingested any glass. She had never even caught a sliver in her paw. Maybe the x-rays weren’t necessary.
    I took a steadying breath and mentally shook myself. When it comes to all creatures in your care, better safe than sorry. I could last one night without Friday.
    Cat carrier in hand, Dr. Bucherati left the examination room. Shoulders sagging, I departed behind her, steadfastly retracing my steps to the waiting room rather than following the vet across the hall to the door leading to the surgery and boarding area.
    In the waiting room I sidestepped a big black German shepherd whose paws, I would swear, were bigger than the steering wheel of my car. The dog whined a little as I sneaked past, and I tamped down the urge to reach out and pet its head; I had no way of knowing if the dog wanted affection or a snack.
    I stopped at the counter to make the appointment for the spay while waiting for Dr. Bucherati to appear with Friday’s file. The receptionist would need the doctor’s notes in order to assemble the charges.
    I got a good look at the dark roots beneath the receptionist’s bleached blond ’do, easy to notice with the way she kept her head down until it was convenient for her to look up and acknowledge my presence. I studied the clock behind her—old school circular—the calendar below it, and the mini-fridge nestled into the corner. “Hello?” I said.
    She sighed but didn’t look up. “I don’t have the file from the doctor yet.”
    â€œI know. I have to make an appointment to have my cat spayed.” I rested my purse atop the counter, crossed my arms over it as though keeping my wallet extra safe.
    â€œTuesday mornings are surgeries here, or you can make an appointment for Monday at the Clarkston office.”
    â€œTuesday would be fine.”
    Long fingernails clacked away on the keyboard as she brought up the scheduling software. We settled on a time and reviewed the presurgical procedures for the cat, with Dr. Bucherati arriving with Friday’s folder and confirming the importance of sticking strictly to the instructions.
    With all the information at hand, the receptionist hit me first with the cost of the office visit with x-ray and sedation and then with the estimate for the spay. I clutched my purse tight, willed the sinking dread from showing on my face. My money was going out faster than it was coming in. “Is that all?” I murmured, a squeak of distress lifting my tone.
    â€œI understand,” the receptionist said. Her softened voice and a nod of her head made her seem surprisingly sympathetic. “It’s not easy living around here, is it?”
    â€œSuch a nice area but not enough . . .” I bit back the rest of my complaint. No, I wasn’t saving a lot of money. I wasn’t going to be rich anytime soon, but I was getting by.
    â€œNot enough work,” she finished for me. She set her fists on her hips and fixed her gaze on me. “And do you believe those people who don’t want the new shopping center to be built? Unbelievable. I’m a single mother. You know what it’s like trying to raise a kid around here? The sooner that thing gets built the better. I’ll finally have a chance to work more than two or three days a week and there’s people protesting? Please.”
    I shook my head in vaguely sympathetic agreement. I didn’t exactly see the new promenade as providing any kind of employment security, but I didn’t want to rain on anyone’s parade who did. My own economic pinch was enough for me to worry about. The last thing I needed was a hefty vet bill. But I wanted Friday to have the care she needed, so there was no question of backing out.
    I pulled my