Simone glanced at Rena’s cardboard doors. “Are the dogs ready?”
“Of course.”
“Then let’s see them in daylight tomorrow, with our trainer present. No stage curtains. No audience prompts.”
Victor’s jaw tightened. “Our animals respond to a carefully controlled environment.”
“We’re purchasing an animal education program, not a magic show. If the dogs can’t demonstrate in an ordinary training yard, we don’t have a product to evaluate.”
Mara watched Simone turn toward Nisha. “Are you the current caretakers of the animals?”
“Yes,” Nisha replied. “And we’re not selling them.”
The trainer beside Simone asked about their health, not their performance. For twenty minutes he and Rena discussed socialization, injury, and what former racing dogs needed after leaving a kennel. Victor attempted to interrupt, but Simone told him she would hear from every person involved before making any decision. The conversation had moved out of his control.
Leda approached Mara near the side door. “He has a van at the loading dock,” she whispered. “I saw him send two people to the garage. I don’t think he knows your dogs aren’t at your house anymore.”
Mara had deliberately kept the overnight transfer private. At dawn, Nisha and Rena had moved all seven animals to the veterinary hospital in separate vehicles, accompanied by trained handlers. The handoff was complete before most of the neighborhood was awake. If Victor’s people returned to Mara’s property, they would find only empty blankets and the smell of disinfectant.
Still, the van troubled her. She walked toward the service corridor with Leda and heard raised voices through the open loading door. Two men were arguing beside a transport cage. One demanded payment before leaving. The other complained that the police were watching the house. Victor arrived seconds later, furious that his workers had become visible to guests.
“The dogs are gone,” one man said. “Nobody told us until today.”
“Find where they went,” Victor snapped.
“The guy from Saturday is in custody. I’m not doing another house.”
Mara stopped beneath the corridor light. The men turned. Victor’s face changed from anger to something harder to name. He looked at her phone, then at Leda, and understood that his conversation had witnesses.
“You don’t belong back here,” he said.
“Neither did the men who entered my property,” Mara answered.
Victor stepped toward Leda. “You told her?”
Leda did not retreat. “I told the truth.”
One of the men at the van climbed into the driver’s seat. The engine started. Victor hurried to the vehicle, shouting for him to stop, but the man reversed toward the exit. Mara moved back into the corridor. A stack of empty crates toppled as the rear bumper caught the corner of a wheeled rack. The crash brought security staff and two buyers running from the lobby.
