Frost

Chapter NINETEEN

Guilt clawed the inside of her stomach, making her push her obligatory black bean burger further away from her on the table. It was the right choice. Fatima looked miserable. If she didn't take a break now they might have had to go back to Seattle, or worse, a hospital, before figuring anything out. She had made the right call leaving her behind to get some rest although she was sure Fatima wasn't going to see it that way. Mel was going to get chewed out, perhaps accused of stealing the car once she got back to the motel. Hopefully whatever she gleaned from this conversation would be more than enough to satisfy her Majesty.

She sipped at her soda, occasionally shifting her eyes to the door and listening to the group a few booths down chatter away. She realized she had seen them here before and was glad she lived in a city that had more than one diner worth going to. They seemed to be talking about a pet going missing. A dog, maybe? It sounded like they were a little worried someone had stolen it. Mel immediately jumped to the dog fighting ring and wondered if that was the fate of their pet. Maybe not though, since the woman in the group complained about traveling from Montana which quickly made her thoughts drift back to Gabby and her own fluffy friend. She propped her chin up and thought about when Gabby had first brought her white mutt home.

They had been what, eleven? Twelve? Marshmallow was a Christmas present that Gabby was allowed to pick out herself. She and Mel had looked through the newspaper together for the next week and visited the shelter daily. Gabby had been obsessed with finding a white wolf so when Mel happened to spot an ad about white German shepherd/ great Pyrenees pups for sale it took a little bit of whining to convince Gabby's mom to go check them out. She settled on the puppy who latched onto her pant leg and refused to let go, its coat the same color as snow without any of the gray or tan markings that splotched its littermates ears. Mel loved that dog. She couldn't have any pets since the apartment they lived in was strict about it, but she about made up for it visiting Gabby and Marshmallow. They potty trained her together, singing songs about poop while they froze their asses off waiting for the tiny puppy to stop playing and finally go. They taught her how to go on walks, going to one of the real libraries to check out books on training and doggie manners. They'd always talk about renting a place together when they were 'grown up' and getting another dog so Marshy could have a friend. Mel picked up a fry and nibbled. For the first time in months she started to think maybe that wouldn't be a forgotten dream after all, if only this Erica had good news for her.

It took another good ten minutes (and another ten minutes of eavesdropping on the group next to her) for Erica to come through the door. A man who looked like he would enjoy being dropped off in the middle of the woods with a canteen and a knife stood at her side, followed by a group of rangy and twitching looking guys. Erica and the man made a beeline for her table while the younger group spread out into the diner. Strange. It looked like they had come together, why were they all not joining her? And if they weren't with her, why were they all still watching her from different positions as the pair took a seat across from Mel. A prickle of unease made her rub a hand over the hair on her arm. Had they been at the bar? It looked almost like Erica had bodyguards. Mel couldn't for the life of her figure out why that might be.

"Where is your friend?" The man asked her, mouth a hard line that matched his eyes.

Mel raised her eyebrows. "I'm sorry- who are you?"

"Mike, sweetie, please behave." Erica rolled her eyes and smiled at Mel. "Can't live without 'em, right?"

"Sure..." Mel agreed, unsure what the end of that saying had to do with this stranger's, 'Mike', rude introduction. "She was feeling sick so I said I'll catch her up to speed. I'm sure she will be fine by tomorrow for our... meetup?" How did one describe going to a dog fight. A jolly get-together. A real soiree. One of the men from the group dropped what looked to be a handful of change into the jukebox and obnoxiously loud music started up.