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Authors: Donna Ball

Dog Days (16 page)

BOOK: Dog Days
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I went into an abbreviated version of my lecture on dog safety, showed him how to scratch Cameo under the chin instead of coming over her head with an open hand, and handed the parents a brochure. They let the kid put a dollar into the donation jar.

I said, when they were gone, “What I don’t understand is why you didn’t try to find April when she first went missing. If you were listening to everything that was going on you must have known something was wrong.”

“You have to be within a few hundred yards to pick up a voice transmission,” he explained, “that’s why the device is equipped with a recorder. I lost the GPS signal on Tuesday night and I did know something was wrong, but there was nothing I could do about it. I didn’t know where they were.”

I said, “Cameo was with April, in the gorge.”

He nodded, “That’s why I couldn’t get a signal until she was picked up on Thursday morning. I tracked her—or at least her collar—to town, and to the vet’s, and to your place.”

I said, “Why didn’t you just come up and introduce yourself, instead of following me and trying to break into my kennel?”

He shook his head with an expression that was part sad, part rueful. “And say what? That I had planted an electronic bug in the dog’s collar to stalk my ex-wife? Would you really have turned Cameo over to me under those circumstances? You would have called the police and I wouldn’t have been able to do anything.”

He was right about that.

“Besides,” he went on, “I still didn’t know what had happened to April. As far as I knew Madison might have dumped Cameo and taken off with her. I knew Cameo was safe with you. Finding April was my first priority.”

Another family came up, admired Cameo, and dropped some coins into the jar. I smiled and thanked them, but forgot to give them a brochure. I turned back to Sellers. “Look,” I said, not particularly graciously, “I know you think you did the right thing, and who knows? Maybe it’ll turn out you did. But the truth of the matter is that you were stalking your ex-wife and that’s not going to put you in a very good light in the eyes of the police. The best thing you can do is turn yourself in.”

His lips tightened, causing grim brackets to appear at either side of his mouth. “I stalked my ex-wife,” he said, putting emphasis on the word “stalked,” “because she married a killer. Tony Madison has been married three times before, and each wife has died less than a year after they were married. They all had life insurance policies. Fifty thousand, seventy-five … nothing outrageous, but I guess it’s worth killing for. He lives off of the insurance until it runs out and then he marries somebody else. April had a hundred-fifty-thousand-dollar policy from her job.”

I stared at him. “But … if that’s true, the police …”

“There was an investigation after the last wife,” Sellers said. “Of course they weren’t able to pin anything on him. He’d had two to practice on by then, and they all were made to look like accidents. Just like April’s accident.”

My thoughts were spinning. How could the guy make something like that up? And if Tony Madison had killed four wives, including April, it certainly explained why he had run when I’d mentioned Greg Sellers was tracking him. I said, “You need to take this to the police.”

He replied patiently, “That’s exactly what I intend to do. But it won’t mean anything unless I can also take them the proof.”

He looked as though he expected me to say something, and when I didn’t, he prompted, “Don’t you see? The device
records
. If Cameo was with April when Madison knocked her out and threw her into the gorge, and I’m almost certain she was, then everything that happened in those last minutes is recorded on that chip. That’s why I need it before I go to the police.”

I looked at him blankly. “What? But—you already have it. You stole it out of my purse last night!”

Now it was he who looked confused. “Stole it? What are you talking about?”

“Are you telling me you didn’t follow me to the fair last night?” I demanded angrily. “Because I know it was you! It had to be!”

His expression was caution mixed with reluctance. “All right,” he admitted. “I followed you here. But it’s not like the thing is a beacon, you know. I knew you were somewhere on the fairgrounds, but I was never able to find you. It was almost dark, and I might’ve walked right past you without recognizing you.”

And he might well have done so, when Cameo caught the scent of someone in the crowd and burst into the same kind of happy barking she’d demonstrated when she pulled the leash out of my hands a few minutes ago. Sonny had said it was her dad. Foolishly, I’d thought she meant Tony Madison.

“But,” I said, floundering, “someone knocked me down, stole my purse. And the only thing they took from it was the transmitter.”

Greg Sellers looked at me in confusion and dismay. “Miss Stockton,” he said, “I checked the GPS on that device half an hour ago, and it clearly shows it’s still at your address.”

 

 

 

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

 

 

A
ll I could think was,
Corny
. It had been Corny after all. I didn’t know how, or why, but what other explanation could there be? He had shown up almost at the same time as Cameo, hadn’t he? He had known every detail of my schedule for the past two days. He had even been staying at the same campground as April Madison. And if the transmitter was tracking to my address now, he was the only one who was there. Even Marilee only worked half days on Saturdays and was long gone. It
had
to be him.

But I just couldn’t believe it.

I said slowly, “I think I know who has it.”

There was a quickening of expectation in his eyes. “Can you get it back?”

“I don’t know.” I bit down on my thumbnail anxiously. “I could be wrong.”

A group of teenagers stopped by the table, picked up some brochures and put them down again, nudged each other, and pointed to Cameo. “Hey,” said one of them, “is that dog for sale?”

I said, “No.” And hoped the brief answer would send them on their way.

Another one said, “Last year at the fair they were giving away puppies.”

I said, “The humane society doesn’t give away puppies. If you want to adopt a dog you have to fill out a form and be approved. The cost is sixty dollars.”

One of them guffawed. “For a
dog
?”

I bit down on my impatience. “The fee includes spay or neuter surgery and all shots. And,” I added pointedly, “you have to be twenty-one or older to apply.”

The group wandered off, looking disgruntled, and Sellers said, “I don’t mean to be pushy, Miss Stockton, but the longer I delay going to the police with my information, the less likely I am to be believed—unless I have evidence, of course. I’ve got to get that transmitter back.”

I said, “You need to tell the police what you know. I’ll look again for the transmitter, and if I find it I’ll turn it in. That’s all I can do.”

There was a moment, just a moment, when I thought he might object, but then he nodded. “Fair enough. You have my cell number.” He started to turn away.

I said, “How did you know she’d been hit over the head?”

He looked back at me, puzzled.

“I mean, until this morning everyone, including the police, thought April had fallen.”

He smiled, understanding. “I have a police scanner in my car.”

I said, “Oh,” and tried to smile back. I probably wasn’t very convincing.

He said soberly, “This is important, Miss Stockton. What’s recorded on that device may be the only way we can stop a serial killer.”

“I know,” I said. “I’ll find it.”

He nodded and walked away. Cameo whined and tugged at the leash as she watched him go.

I glanced at my watch. I still had another half hour before the end of my shift, and that seemed like far too long. Before I could decide what to do, I was besieged by another group of fairgoers, this one complete with three small children holding sticks of cotton candy. Cisco stood up in his crate and barked when he saw the cotton candy, and one of the toddlers, startled, dropped his candy on Cameo’s head. The toddler wailed, his siblings laughed, and the parents frantically tried to herd the group away while I scrubbed at Cameo’s sticky ears with a tissue dipped in the dogs’ water dish.

“Looks like you’ve got your hands full,” said a male voice behind me, “again.”

I glanced over my shoulder to see Marshall Becker place a red and white box filled with concession stand food on the table. “Do you have time for a lunch break?” he asked.

“I, um …” I straightened up, distracted, and glanced at the food. “Thank you, that’s nice. Could you do me a favor?” I thrust Cameo’s leash into his hand. “Hold her for a minute. I have to make a phone call.”

Without waiting for a reply I dug my phone out of my pocket and walked away from the crowd as I dialed. Jolene answered on the second ring.

“Okay,” I said, before she could say something to make me mad, “you told me to call if I saw Greg Sellers so I’m calling. He was here only a few minutes ago, at my booth at the fair. The thing is, I don’t think he’s the one who stole my purse anymore. He was looking for the transmitter. He thinks I still have it.”

Jolene said tersely, “Is he still there?”

I covered my free ear with my hand to block out some of the noise and music. “No. He wants to meet me later.”

“How long ago did you see him?”

“I don’t know. Five, six minutes.”

I heard her muffle the mouthpiece with her hand and speak to someone, but I couldn’t hear what she was saying. It went on longer than I liked and I said, just a little sarcastically, “Hey, sorry to bother you. You told me to call.”

She came back on the line. “Stockton, listen to me. I’m here at a homicide scene. Tony Madison’s CR-V was found a few minutes ago behind the abandoned furniture warehouse on Highway 83. Madison’s body was inside, shot through the chest.”

I managed on a single indrawn breath, “And you think Sellers …?”

“He is a person of very particular interest in this case, yes. Under no circumstances are you to meet with Sellers again. We have a team at the fair now and the sheriff is dispatching two more units. If Sellers is still at the fairgrounds, we’ll find him. Meanwhile, you need to stay away from him.”

My heart was thumping unevenly. Tony Madison, dead. But how could he be? He was the one who had killed April. He had killed three other wives and had fled when he heard the name of Greg Sellers, who knew the truth. Why was he dead?

I said, “Jolene, you didn’t say anything on the police band about April being knocked out before she went into the gorge, did you?”

“What?” Her tone was sharp. “We never discuss details of an investigation on the radio. That’s what our phones are for. Why do you ask that?”

I swallowed hard. “He knows where I live. Sellers. And he thinks the transmitter is at my house.”

There was the briefest of pauses. “We’ll dispatch a unit to your house. You stay put.”

“My dogs are there!”

But she had already hung up. “Damn it,” I whispered. I stared at the phone, not knowing what to do. What if Sellers got there before the deputies did? I wanted to call Corny and warn him, but what would I say? If Corny did know where the transmitter was, he would only take it and run. If he didn’t, what could he do that the police could not?

One thing was certain. I could not stay here while the man who had probably murdered Tony Madison was on his way to my house.

Marshall was using a handful of paper napkins to sponge the cotton candy off of Cameo’s fur when I returned to the booth, and was doing a much better job than I had done. Cisco stood in his crate, watching intently. I wasn’t sure whether he was jealous of the attention or worried about competition for Cameo’s affection.

Marshall glanced up from telling Cameo what a beautiful girl she was, and his smile faded a little when he saw me. “Is everything okay?”

“Um, actually, no.” I glanced around worriedly. “I have to get home. Something’s come up. Listen, I hate to ask, but …” I looked at him apologetically. “My shift isn’t over for half an hour and I can’t leave the booth unmanned … is there any way you could sit here and keep an eye on the donation jar until my relief gets here?”

He lifted an eyebrow, looking amused as he straightened up. “That’s a pretty big favor.”

“This is one of the most popular booths at the fair,” I pointed out, reaching for Cameo’s leash. “And people always vote for animal lovers.”

“How are people going to know I’m an animal lover if you take the dog?”

I was getting a little frantic. Every minute I stayed here was another minute Mischief, Magic, and Pepper—not to mention all the other dogs in the kennel—were vulnerable. And it wasn’t just paranoia. Once a crazy man had set my kennel on fire. Another one had thrown a Molotov cocktail, and yet another had tried to drive his truck through the front of my house. I knew what could happen, and I could not stay here, oblivious, while it did.

I slung the day bag over my shoulder and said quickly, “I’ll take Cameo to the car and be right back for Cisco and the crate. All you have to do is sit here and make sure no one walks off with the donation jar.  Thank you so much!”

He replied, “You owe me.”

I waved an acknowledgement and hurried off with Cameo, Cisco barking indignantly after us. I called over my shoulder, “Cisco! Quiet!” But apparently he didn’t hear me. His increasingly anxious barking followed me down the midway, and although I’d like to think he was barking for me, I knew it was all about Cameo.

I took the shortcut behind the carousel to the employee parking lot, hurrying Cameo along despite my throbbing knee. This time of day the entire back of the fairgrounds was relatively deserted, which was not that surprising since most of the entertainment and special events would take place after dark. The silver equipment trailers at the other side of the field practically shimmered in the heat, and a still dusty haze hung over the parking lot.  Even the woods looked dry and wilted, and my footsteps crunched on the hard-packed dirt as I hurried across the lot.  I dug into my pocket for my keys, and that’s when Greg Sellers fell into step beside me.

Cameo began panting excitedly and tried to lunge across my body to get to him, almost tripping me. I pulled her back instinctively and stopped still, darting my eyes around for options.

“Just keep moving,” Sellers said. He had one hand in the pocket of his trousers and he lifted it now, revealing the rubber grip of a compact, snub-nosed pistol. His voice and his smile were pleasant as he took my arm with his other hand, urging me forward. “Glad to see you were able to get away early. I thought it would be more efficient if I helped you search. I’ll ride with you, if you don’t mind. I’d take my own car but the front parking lot is swarming with police. I guess you called them.”

Somehow I managed, in an almost normal tone, “I thought you were going to tell them what you know.”

“Well, like I explained, that’s really not going to be in my best interests right now.”

“Especially,” I suggested, desperately trying to keep my voice even, “since the police just found Tony Madison’s body.”

His hand tightened on my arm. “Keep moving. Hurry up.”

I pretended to stumble. “I can’t walk any faster. I hurt my knee last night when you pushed me down.”

He was unsympathetic. “Good thing you don’t have to go very far, then.”

If I could stall long enough, surely someone would come down the path, or turn into the parking lot, or one of the deputies would think to patrol the employee lot. I thought about screaming or trying to break away, but I didn’t know where the gun was. I thought about letting Cameo go, but she would only trot right over to the man she adored. My phone was in my pocket, and it was absolutely useless unless I could break away long enough to call for help.

I said, “I don’t understand. You had my purse, why didn’t you take the transmitter?”

“Don’t mess with me,” he returned briefly. “If it had been in your purse, I would’ve found it. So now you’re going to show me where you really hid it. And we don’t have a lot of time.”

I said, “It’s not going to be Tony Madison’s voice on that recorder, is it? It’s yours.”

His lips tightened into a thin line. “I would never hurt April. I tried to save her from that bastard. That’s why I picked her up that evening when she was out walking Cameo. I had to warn her about what I’d found out about Madison, I never would have let her know I was following them if I hadn’t thought it was life and death. Of course she was mad about my being here, even after I explained things to her. She wouldn’t listen to me. She made me pull the car over on the other side of the mountain, by that overlook, and she and Cameo got out. It was getting dark and I didn’t want to leave her there. We argued about it and she pulled out her phone to call Madison. I tried to get the phone away from her and when she walked away I grabbed Cameo and put her in the car. April started yelling at me and I was afraid somebody would hear so I let her have the dog and I drove off. But I felt bad about leaving her out there on the side of the road so I came back after about twenty minutes … Just in time to see Madison pull up by the overlook. It was nearly full dark by then, and I turned off my headlights so he wouldn’t see me. She was standing by the overlook and when he drove up she turned around. He came up to her and took her by the shoulders like he was going to kiss her, then he slammed her head against the rail post hard enough to crack her skull. Cameo started barking. April slumped down and he dragged her up and over the rail and pushed her into the gorge. Then he got into his car and drove away.”

We had stopped walking. His face was tight and gray with the memory, his eyes dull with the effort to repress emotion. “I got out,” he finished quietly. “I ran to the rail, I looked … but all I could see was Cameo, scrambling down into the gorge. I thought April was dead.”

“Why didn’t you call someone?” I said. “Why didn’t you tell them what had happened? April was alive for two days in that gorge! We might have saved her!”

BOOK: Dog Days
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