Foxfire (12 page)

Adam kept pace as they walked toward the
clinic, while Tiffany raced ahead.

“Brad told me it wasn't you who left
them.”

“And that's the truth. But somebody did,
that's for sure.”

“Yes, somebody did.” Grace still felt it was
Adam.

“What about Tyler? You two seem to be pretty
friendly.”

There it was again, a spark of jealousy. “No.
I was coming back from visiting the clinic the first time I found a
rose. It wasn't there when I left the house. That was the day
Connor stopped by. I'm sure you remember. You were there.”

She tried, but couldn't keep the accusation
from popping out.

Adam stopped walking. “And because of that,
you think it was me?”

She shrugged, then grabbed for her falling
purse strap. “I thought since you asked me out…”

“You turned me down, didn't you?” His voice
rose. “Why would I leave flowers for a woman who won't even have
dinner with me?”

She had to tell him the truth, make him
understand once and for all that she wasn't interested in him
romantically. “Adam, I don't want to hurt your feelings. I think of
you as a friend, nothing more.”

He stared straight ahead. “I only want to be
your friend, Grace. I care about you, but not...” His face
reddened. “I've got a girlfriend already.”

She sighed with relief. “That's wonderful,
Adam. I'm happy for you, and I'm sorry I misread your intentions.
Forgive me?”

“No hard feelings between friends.” He
grinned at her.

“I've got to hurry so I'm not late for work.”
Grace began to walk away.

Adam kept in step until they came to the end
of the path and turned to face her. “You be careful, Grace. You
never know what kind of perverts there are in this world. Look at
all the women who've been murdered right here under our noses.”

Grace ffoze. “That happened in Knoxville, not
here.”

Adam's intense gaze pinned her. “Didn't you
read the paper this morning? They found another dead body.” He
pulled his cap lower and leaned toward her as if sharing a secret.
“In the woods behind the restaurant. No place is safe.” Without a
further word, he turned and strode away.

Behind the restaurant? A trace of fear set up
residence. She hadn't read the paper this morning. If what Adam
said was true, a total of five women had been killed now. She
shivered.

All murdered with a knife. The woods suddenly
seemed to have eyes. She ran the rest of the way to the clinic.

****

Tyler heard the door open and peered around
the doorframe. His heart picked up cadence when he saw Grace. She
rushed toward him.

“What's wrong?”

“Nothing.”

She grabbed her lab coat from the hook.

“Something happened. You look like you've
seen a ghost.”

“No ghost. Just Adam.”

He leaned against the desk.

“What did he do this time?”

“I swear everything he says sounds like a
threat.”

She shoved her arms into the lab coat.

“Whoa. Adam threatened you?”

Grace lifted her shoulders in a shrug. “I
don't know. It seemed that way. He's a very strange person.”

“What did he say?”

“It's nothing. I overreacted. He does that to
me.”

Before Tyler could question her further, the
doorbell jangled, signaling their first patient for the day. Over
the next few hours, Tyler and Grace were too busy for small talk.
While grateful for the business, he longed for a break so he could
learn more about her conversation with Adam.

After ushering out the last patient before
the lunch break, Tyler leaned over the reception counter. “Lunch?
I've got ham sandwiches with lettuce and mayo.”

She looked up, her eyes growing a deeper
blue.

The telephone rang and Grace snatched it,
muttering a fast “Foxfire Animal Clinic.” Her face paled. “He's
here. Please hold.” She hit the hold button and looked up at Tyler.
“It's Mr. Jacobson. His dog is really sick.”

Tyler put the phone to his ear, and as he
listened his heart sank. He assured Mr. Jacobson that he'd come
right away, then handed the phone to Grace, asking her to get
directions. He hurried to the back of the office.

A few minutes later, he returned with his
medical bag. She held up a slip of paper. “Here you go.”

“Grace, would you mind coming with me? I'm
afraid I'll have to put his dog down. I could use your help.”

She nodded, tears shimmering in her eyes.
“Okay.” She grabbed several tissues and stuffed them into her
pocket.

“Would you navigate?” Tyler asked.

“Sure.”

They climbed into his truck.

“I don't know if I can do this.” Grace's
voice broke.

Tyler reached for her hand and squeezed it.
“This is going to be hard. I shouldn't have asked you to come.” He
glanced at her profile. She lifted her chin, a familiar gesture,
and his heart did that crazy jig again.

“I'm fine.”

He put the truck in gear and drove off,
following her directions through the back roads. Soon they pulled
into a gravel drive next to a small but well-kept house. A man
opened the door and waited while they climbed from the truck. He
leaned heavily on a cane, his hands crippled and withered from
arthritis and age. His keen brown eyes peered at them from behind
gold-framed glasses. “Thanks for coming, Doctor Sandford.”

Tyler held out a hand. “Call me Tyler, Mr.
Jacobson, and this is Grace Wilkins.”

“Pleased to meet you. Spanky's in the
bedroom.”

He turned and walked away, surprisingly fast
despite his handicap.

Tyler knelt beside the large short-haired
dog. Spanky looked as if he was part German Shepherd. The dog
wagged his tail, but made no effort to rise.

“He's been that way all day. I tried to get
him on his feet, but he just lays there. I gave him food and water,
but he hasn't touched either one.”

The haze over the dark eyes told Tyler the
dog had impaired vision. His muzzle, which had once been dark, was
now heavily peppered with white. Tyler did a quick examination.
“Did he vomit or show any signs of distress?”

“He threw up this morning. I heard a noise
and found him thrashing around like he was trying to get to his
feet. Then he just flopped over on his side. What do you think's
wrong?”

Tyler lifted his gaze to the old man. “I'm
sorry, Mr. Jacobson. It looks like he had a stroke. I doubt he'll
ever walk again.” He paused, letting the information hang in the
air. The dog should be put to sleep, but he didn't want to be the
first to mention it.

The old man stared into the distance. “Call
me Will. Short for William, after my dad.” He shuffled to the bed
and sat on the mattress. “You're thinking he should be put down,
aren't you?”

Grace took a ragged breath. Tyler caught the
sheen in her eyes, though she clearly struggled to maintain a calm
façade. How could he have ever thought she had been part of Max's
network? Everything she'd said at the trial was true. She hadn't
known about Max's illegal affairs. If anything, Grace had been a
victim, too. He took Grace's hand and gave it a gentle squeeze,
then turned to Mr. Jacobson.

“I'm sorry, but I think it would be the
humane thing at this point.”

Will nodded.

“He's been my best friend for nearly sixteen
years. My wife, Helen, got him for me before she passed on. Guess
it's time for him to be with her now.”

Grace put her free arm around the old man's
shoulder. “He was lucky to have such a wonderful home, Mr.
Jacobson.”

Tyler dreaded what he had to do. Putting an
animal to sleep was the worst part of being a vet. Watching the
owner's pain, the brief indecision, the guilt, and then the
overpowering sorrow.

Will said, “It's his time. I just wish I
could have gone first.”

“Would you like to stay with him?” Tyler
asked.

Will nodded.

“Do you have a sheet we can use?” Tyler
asked. He glanced at Grace. She swallowed visibly.

Will removed a quilt from the foot of the bed
and handed it to Tyler. “This do?”

Tyler nodded. “We're going to lift him to the
bed next to you.”

Unashamedly, tears streamed from Will's eyes.
He removed his glasses and pulled a handkerchief from his back
pocket. “Thank you.”

Tyler maneuvered the heavy dog onto the
blanket, receiving a friendly tongue kiss. He and Grace each took
up the ends of the quilt and lifted the dog to the bed.

The sadness in Grace's eyes knifed through
Tyler's heart. He wanted to pull her into his arms and tell her he
could give the dog a magic pill to restore his health, but that was
beyond his capabilities. At times like this, he questioned his
choice of profession, but on the plus side, he spent most of his
time healing and feeling he was contributing something positive to
the world. In his dual occupation of agent, there was always
another scumbag to take the place of the ones they caught. That's
another reason he couldn't wait to get turn in his gun.

Will placed his hand on Spanky's head. He
talked softly about watching over Helen until he could join
them.

Tyler filled a syringe, sucking up the liquid
that would end the dog's life. Who was he to play God? His hands
trembled. He looked into Spanky's eyes and swore he could see into
his soul. The dog rolled his gaze up to his owner, then back to
Tyler. Intelligence lived in that gaze...and acceptance...and
forgiveness.

Will looked up, nodded, and Tyler inserted
the needle.

He swallowed the lump in his throat, watching
Will's hand guiding the dog toward peace. He felt the pain of
Will's loss. Had Natalie known he loved her at the moment she took
her last breath? Had he told her he loved her, let her know the
depth of his feelings? He hadn't given her the one thing she asked
for. More of himself. He'd wanted to, but somehow the job always
pulled more of his time than he planned. He got caught up in the
thrill of the chase and the glory of the capture, forgetting how
much he'd always loved working with animals. He glanced back at
Spanky. It was over. He'd taken a life. Tyler waited a few more
minutes, then gently placed his stethoscope on the dog's chest.

He looked up at Will. “He's gone.”

Will's tears streamed down his face as he
continued to stroke his beloved friend.

Grace murmured, “I'm so sorry, Mr.
Jacobson.”

Will blew his nose loudly and stuffed the
handkerchief in his back pocket. “He's with Helen now. He'll watch
over her until it's my time.”

“You should get another dog,” Grace said.

Will shook his head. “I don't think so.” He
ran his hand down Spanky's side. He raised his head and looked at
Tyler. “I'd like to bury him out back among the trees. That was his
favorite spot.”

Tyler started to protest, then remembered he
wasn't in the city and no one would mind an animal being buried in
the back yard. Besides, how could he say no? “I'll be glad to
help,” he offered.

“So would I,” Grace said.

“Thank you. These arms aren't quite what they
used to be.”

****

The closer she came to home, the faster Grace
ran. Watching Tyler bury Mr. Jacobson's dog was one of the hardest
things Grace ever endured. She'd held back the tears until she'd
escaped Tyler's presence. She'd even managed to console Mr.
Jacobson without breaking down. Now all she wanted to do was hug
her dog.

Grace ran across the yard, her face burning
from the sun's heat. “Tiffany!”

She yelled louder, hurrying to the back porch
where Tiffany liked to slumber. Tiffany raised her head, then
slowly got to her feet, stretched her legs and neck, then shook
herself. She barked a greeting, then loped to Grace's side, tail
waving.

Grace threw her arms around the dog and
squeezed so hard Tiffany gave a soft yelp.

“I'm sorry, girl.” Grace cradled Tiffany's
head between her hands and gazed into her soulful eyes. “I love
you.” She kissed the cold wet nose.

Tiffany squirmed free and ran a circled path
in the yard. Her long fur drifted like silk in the wind, her ears
perked, and her eyes danced with mischief.

Grace's smile pushed away the tears that
earlier clogged her throat. What would she do without Tiffany?
She'd fallen in love with the ball of fur from the moment she'd
popped her head out of the box Brad had garnished with Christmas
wrapping and ribbon. She couldn't bear to think of the day she'd
have to say goodbye like poor Mr. Jacobson did today.

Her heart went out to the brave old man who'd
lost his wife and now his furry companion. She wanted to do
something to ease his pain. Maybe she and Tiffany could go and
visit him from time to time. She could bake him some cookies or
brownies, spend a few hours talking to him, letting him reminisce.
Yes, definitely she'd make time to do that.

“Come on, Tiffany. Let's go visit Brad.”

As usual, the dog bounded ahead, already
knowing their destination. Brad sat on the back porch, shucking a
batch of corn. She sat next to him, grabbed an ear and pulled the
husk and silk away from the golden yellow kernels.

“What's wrong, darlin'?”

She smiled into Brad's clear blue eyes. “I
can't visit my best friend without something being wrong?”

“Sure you can.” He set his rocker in motion.
“I've got a fresh batch of ice cream in the freezer.” He continued
to work on the corn without looking directly at her.

Tiffany's ears lifted as if she
understood.

Grace dropped the clean ear of corn in the
pan. “I suppose I could eat a bowl.”

Brad rose to his feet “Then let's have at it.
I'll finish the corn later.”

They followed an established ritual of Grace
getting the bowls, while Brad retrieved the ice cream and began
dipping it out. They sat across from each other and Grace took a
bite before meeting Brad's gaze. He gave her a slight grin.