Some Day Somebody (47 page)

He made his way into her private bath and picked up the small bottle of amber liquid, uncapped it, and inhaled.
That’s it.
The smell made him
want
to lose control, the name...
Obsession
...perfect. One more sign she belonged with him. Suddenly inspired, he sprayed a good amount on his index finger, taking the bottle with him. He reached out with his fingertip and touched the skin in the area of her carotid pulse, then dipped it down to the lowest part of her neckline, just at the top of her breast. Lastly, he touched just behind the only ear exposed to him. He gave it a few moments to mix with her own scent then lowered his face as near to her as he dared to breathe her in.
Oh yeah, that’s more like it.

He straightened, watching as Sam seemed to sense the change even in his sleep, and pulled her closer grunting like an animal. His mouth twisted with the effort
not
to snap the asshole’s neck like a twig. Carrie saved him the trouble by turning in her sleep to rest on her side facing away from Sam.

After several minutes more of the game, he left Carrie to check out the other residents of the house. He entered one room and walked out quickly, uninterested in
his
teenage son. The next room held Carrie’s twin daughters. They’d apparently fallen asleep while watching television. He saw their faces clearly from the light emitted by the small set, and realized how much they resembled, and how potentially gorgeous they would be in a few short years. He reached down and touched their hair, curlier than their mother’s soft tendrils. If things didn’t work out with their mom he could always turn his attentions toward one, or both, of her daughters.

Twins...how intriguing...there was a first time for everything. But he wasn’t into pedophilia. He backed carefully out of the bedroom
.
Another time perhaps.
For now, it was time to go. He wanted to take time to savor everything he’d experienced tonight.

He placed the uncapped bottle of perfume on the kitchen counter top, wondering if she’d catch on. It was all part of his plan to test her reserves. He peaked out the window to verify the cruiser’s location, and then crossed over, slipping out through a window on the north side of Carrie’s home.

CHAPTER 21

Carrie woke
with the soft chirp of her alarm clock. She turned it off and stretched under the covers before rolling over to see Sam’s sleepy eyed gaze on her. “Don’t get up yet, it’s still too early for you,” she told him as she stretched again. “But I need to.”

Sam pulled her to him and buried his face in her neck. “Hmmm babe, you smell so good.”

She turned her face away from him as she spoke. “I hardly think dragon breath first thing in the morning can be that much of a turn on.” She rolled out of bed, slipped her feet into her slippers, and wrapped herself in her robe. She padded into the kitchen and pushed the start button on the coffee maker before going to the back door to check on Toto. She pushed the blind open enough to see him sprawled out on his side just in front of the back door.
Good dog.

Carrie went in to her bathroom with her work clothes and emerged thirty minutes later, dressed, made-up and ready for the day. She smiled at Sam, who stood there, sleepy eyed and rumpled, looking as though he was unsure of what to do.

“Want some breakfast?” she asked him, kissing his cheek.

“Sure, are you buying?”

“Yep.
Want to help?”

“Uh huh,” he said, as she crack eggs, one-handed, into a bowl. He moved up closer to watch over her shoulder. “Nice technique, babe. Not a shell in the bowl. Need any help?” he asked, wrapping his hands around her waist.

“You can toast some bread. I don’t have time for biscuits.”

“I’m on it.” He grabbed the loaf of bread and inserted two slices in the toaster, then reached across and picked up the bottle of perfume sitting on the snack bar. He waved it slowly under his nose then pulled her hair aside and buried his face in her neck. “This stuff is good in the bottle, but it’s delicious on you.”

Carrie scrunched her shoulders, giggling, and pulled out of his embrace to start whisking the eggs for scrambling. What started as a brisk movement slowed to a halt as the fork fell into the bowl of yolks and whites. She pulled his hand around and stared at the bottle of perfume he held.

“Where’d you find that? I know it was on my vanity last night. I could smell it in my bathroom this morning, but I couldn’t find the bottle.”

“It was right here on the counter,” he told her. “You must have left it there after you used it last night.”

She frowned and shook her head. “I didn’t use any after my shower,” she told him. She turned to look at the counter top. “When we left the kitchen last night, the counter was completely cleaned off. And where the hell’s the cap? I never leave it uncovered.”

He frowned and leaned in toward her. “Babe, you’re definitely wearing perfume, and it’s this stuff. Here...” he said, sniffing her neck, then sniffed behind both ears, “...and here, too.” He touched the back of one ear.

She raised both wrists and smelled. “This doesn’t make sense, Sam. I always spray it on my wrists then touch my wrists to my neck.” She held her wrists to his nose until he shook his head.

“There’s nothing there,” he said. “Babe, you must have—”

“I didn’t,” she interrupted, her voice raised in panic.

After I took my shower, I didn’t put any on. I
know
that.”

Sam shoved his hands deep into his pockets. “Well, you’re right. This doesn’t make sense.”

Her eyes fixed on the bedroom door. “Sam...Last night. Could he have...Did he...” she stammered, her voice tight with dread. She spun around toward the other bedrooms. “Dear God. Was he in my home?”

They rushed forward to check on their children and found them all unharmed and asleep.

Far from relieved, Sam paced the living room as Carrie searched the kitchen for other clues. He stopped in his tracks and met her troubled gaze. “Is this possible?”

Carrie stared into the bedroom where she and Sam spent the night. “It’s the only solution.” She made her way to the bed, terrified of finding proof that she was right. There, at the foot of the unmade bed, sat the familiar top to her bottle of perfume. Carrie clapped one hand over her mouth to keep from screaming, and continued to search for anything else out of place. She pulled open the closet door and stepped closer flipping on the interior light. Bile rose in her throat at the distinct odor of tobacco smoke.
“Oh God!
How can this be?” She spun around to face Sam.

Sam shook his head in denial. “The cop outside...and your dog—”

Carrie rushed out of the bedroom to the back door, pulling it open. “You would have let us know, right boy?” Toto was still there, sprawled out in the same position as he’d been earlier. Carrie’s entire body clenched with dread. “Get up, Toto,” she pleaded, though she already knew in her gut that he wouldn’t. She reached over with her shoe to nudge him, and dropped to her knees.

She passed both hands over the still, stiff form of the pet she, her children, and even Dave, had loved for eight years. Her mind replayed the day she saw a car stop and drop off the tiny white ball of fluff in the middle of a busy street. She’d doubled back, praying he wouldn’t get hit before she got to him, and finally found him hiding in a ditch. She’d pulled over onto a side street, opened her door and called to him. He’d run straight to her, scrambled up onto her lap and buried his nose under her arm, knowing immediately he’d found his niche, his home, his family. His first bath, the trips to two kindergarten and the second grade classrooms to show the kids, nights of bringing him outside to do his business, and laughing as the winter wind made his backside flip right over his head because he was so tiny...Memories flooded, soon replaced with the acute ache over losing a pet so loved.

The room filled with a low moan that turned into a wail. Shocked when she realized the sound was coming from her own mouth, she cut it off by pressing both hands over her mouth. “No...No...” she groaned, after Sam let loose with a low, but steady stream of cussing. “The girls...Don’t wake the girls...” she sobbed, as she felt herself being lifted by the shoulders and pulled into Sam’s arms.

Sam held on to Carrie, his jaw clenched furiously as she mourned her loss. What kind of man would do this? Not a man at all, but a sadistic son of a bitch. Awareness filled him with foreboding. It was an awareness that anyone who could do this under these conditions, and so easily, was capable of much worse. Feeling helpless, he muttered a low curse and held her tighter as she sobbed. He cursed again when he thought how heartbroken her kids would be. He glared up at the police officer on guard as he came around the back of the house.

“Is everything all right here?” Cody asked.

Sam cleared his throat and pulled the sobbing woman closer. “We think he was in the house last night and...” his voice lowered, “...we suspect he killed the dog.”

The officer swore quietly and shook his head. “I never saw a thing. I never left my post and I didn’t fall asleep, Sam, I swear I didn’t. The second patrol car made regular passes with the search light on all sides at least every thirty minutes.” He pulled out his radio and ran to his cruiser.

Sam listened as Cody called in the probable breaking and entering then walked Carrie back inside the house and away from Toto.

After a few minutes the officer came back and stood inside the doorway. He cleared his throat and shuffled his black booted feet. “Ms.
Jeansonne
, I’m so sorry this happened, but the chief thinks we should perform an autopsy on the animal to discover the cause of death.” He stared down at the floor, shifted, and repositioned his clipboard. “Did, uh, did he have any health threatening conditions?”

Carrie sniffed and wiped her nose with the tissue Sam handed her. She shook her head. “He just had all his shots and our vet said he was good,” she said, sobbing again.

The officer shook his head and groaned. “I’m so sorry, ma’am. I really am.” He turned as the K-9 unit pulled into the driveway and left to meet it. He came back a few minutes later and introduced her to the unit’s officer, Heath, a young man in his early to mid twenties.

The officer spoke to her in a quiet and respectful tone. “I’m sorry for your loss, Ma’am.” He pointed to the specially outfitted K-9 unit parked in her driveway. “I applied for this position because I’m a dog lover too. What’s his name, ma’am?”

“Toto,” she sobbed.

The officer nodded.
“From
The
Wizard of Oz
, huh?
It fits him perfectly. How old was Toto, ma’am?”

“Eight years...” She faltered and bit her lower lip, trying to stop the tears. “We raised him from a puppy.” She swallowed the lump in her throat. “Can you take him now, please? I don’t want my girls to see him like this.” She covered her mouth with her hand again to suppress a sob.

He crouched next to Toto’s lifeless body. “From here on out, he’ll be treated with nothing but respect, I can promise you that.”

She nodded but remained silent, biting hard on her lower lip to keep the sobs at bay.