Woof at the Door (23 page)

“Okay, Jax. Showtime.”

By the time we pulled up to the guard booth, I had moved past feeling nervous and
had reached a strange state of detached calm.

The paunchy guard remembered me and motioned me through with a nod. He didn’t even
glance in the backseat, where Jax was lying on the floorboard. I smiled and waved
and then waited patiently for the gate to open.

Jax sat up and whined as we neared his old home.

“I know, boy. But we can’t go in yet.”

I had decided that parking in Mark’s driveway would be too conspicuous, so I cruised
past his house, hoping to find a spot between two houses, with the theory that each
resident would assume I was visiting their neighbor.

The problem was that the lots in this upscale ’hood were spacious. Walkways leading
from the sidewalk to the front door were positioned hundreds of feet apart. There
was no way to park Bluebell in an ambiguous spot. I’d gone a couple of blocks up and
turned when I saw a solution.

A huge white house on the corner was shining like a beacon. Lights blazed inside and
out. Cars lined the street on both sides. A party.

“God loves me.” I parked as far from the streetlight as I could and realized I had
hit a snag.

Not wanting to leave Jax tied up in the front yard while I went around—I was afraid
he’d start barking or be seen—I had planned to park close to Mark’s, quickly walk
to the side gate, hop over, zip through the house, open the front door, and stroll
out casually to walk back and get Jax.

But now I had driven two blocks up and one away from where I needed to be. It would
take a while to get to Mark’s and back. Longer out in the open where I could be seen.

“Damn.” I sat and weighed the pros and cons of parking close, making for a quick entrance
and, more important, a quick getaway, or concealed with other cars. The longer I sat,
the more the decision eluded me.

“Come on, Grace. You gonna fish or cut bait?” My grandmother would ask me this whenever
I was dragging my feet.

I turned to Jax. “I’ll be back in a minute, okay? Be good.”

Jax, good boy.

Yes, you are
. I left the shelter of Bluebell with that jovial thought and strolled toward Mark’s
house. The air was thick and quiet. Katydids hummed their summer symphony. I tried
not to look suspicious, just a girl out for a walk on a warm evening.

In blue jeans.

By the time I reached Mark’s, the jeans were damp and sticking to my legs like cling
wrap. I walked straight to the side gate and, pausing only a moment to choose my toeholds
in the swirls of wrought iron, began my climb.

It was not as easy as I had hoped. My jeans, which were on the tight side to begin
with, did not yield to my knees—or my hips, for that matter. Grunting and puffing
like a pregnant rhino, I struggled to scramble quietly to the top of the gate.

Muttering profanities and insulting Mark Richardson’s taste in fencing products, I
grimaced as a decorative spike threatened to skewer me in my moneymaker

Vlad the Impaler was your inspiration, huh, Mark?

Proving, once again, that my mother should have chosen another name for me, I finally
managed to tumble over in one sweaty piece. I guess Queen-of-All-Stupid-Ideas Wilde
didn’t have the same ring.

Breathing hard, I tiptoed to the French doors and prayed Charlie had not decided to
do a security check before leaving earlier. I grasped the handle, pressed the lever,
and pushed. The door swung in.

I stood for a moment at the threshold. Compared to the moonlit backyard, the interior
of the house seemed like a black hole. Vast, lightless, and enigmatic. Forcing myself
to move, I stepped inside and pulled the penlight out of my pocket.

Clicking it on, I did a quick sweep to get my bearings. I pulled the door closed behind
me and, because I wasn’t going back out that way, crouched down and engaged the lock.
At some point in the last few seconds, I’d lost the grip I had on my nerves. Maybe
it was being locked in, or the odd shadows brought to life by my tiny light, but as
I straightened, I had a very real sense that I wasn’t alone.

I stood completely still and listened. Nothing. I reached out with my other sense
and found the source of the “presence.” I breathed out a sigh. Birds. Right outside.
Either roosting in the shrubs or maybe nesting in a birdhouse.

“Get a grip, Grace.” If I was so wired I was honing in on every critter within my
bubble, I was going to drive myself crazy. With a straighter spine and renewed hold
on my nerves, I started toward the door that led to the hall. Once there, I turned
off the light. I didn’t need it, and I was afraid someone might notice the beam as
it danced around.

I reached the end of the hall and froze. My heart lurched. I held my breath, straining
to hear over its erratic thrum. Just when I was about to berate myself again for being
a gutless ninny, I heard it.

The creek of a gate—outside in the courtyard. I started to peek around the corner
when I heard a click and the sound of the front door swinging open.

Crap.

I scuttled backward, turned, and slunk back down the hallway. There wasn’t enough
time for me to make it all the way across the bedroom and out the door so I ducked
into the office. I pressed my back against the wall and held my breath.

Someone entered the bedroom. Whoever it was didn’t flip on the overhead light. I could
hear rustling and a click. Dim, golden light poured into the study from the bedroom.

I blinked, trying to banish my night vision. I could feel my heart hammering hard
against my ribs. My breaths were quick and irregular. One of the lamps on the bedside
table had been turned on. At that moment, I realized that the person in the other
room had to know Mark and his house very well to accomplish this in the complete darkness.

My suspect list flashed through my mind. I reached out with my left hand and grasped
the central column of one of the many trophies on the shelf next to me. Lifting it
silently, I took great pleasure in feeling the solid weight of it in my hand. Facing
off against a possible killer had not been on my agenda. But at least I was no longer
unarmed.

Hyperalert, I could hear each whisper of movement in the other room. Each footstep.
A sigh.

There were a few moments of stillness. Then footsteps coming closer.

A figure passed under the archway, walking right past my meager hiding place without
even breaking stride. I had a hold of the trophy, even though I now recognized the
figure moving to stand on the other side of the desk. A drawer was opened. Then another.
Each was searched with quick, frantic movements.

I could hear hushed curses.

I had been pressed against the wall that held a light switch. I crouched slightly,
ready to leap out of the way if there happened to be a reason. Like a gun. With the
back of my hand, I flipped on the light and said, “Jennifer.”

She shrieked. Her eyes were wide as a screech owl’s. She blinked at me in stunned
silence. The switch I had hit had turned on the bookcase light. The rest of the room
was still in shadows. I could only see one of Jennifer’s hands. I divided my focus
between her obscured hand and her face. One of them would tell me her intentions.

“What are you looking for?” I was glad to hear my voice sounded calm—casual, even.

“I—I was . . .” She trailed off. Her brows came together. “You’re the woman from the
bathroom. At the sheriff’s office.”

“I have Jax.”

“Jax?” She looked completely thrown by this comment, which was good. If Jennifer had
killed Mark, she was capable of killing me. Keeping her off balance could help me
get away.

Not that I had an exit strategy.

The crackle of a police radio solved my problem. Or at least one problem.

“Sheriff’s office!” a man’s voice announced from the foyer.

Looks like I’m going to jail.
I glanced at Jennifer; it was clear she was thinking the same thing.

“We’re back here!” I called out, like a hostess inviting a late guest to join the
rest of the party. I hoped that by sounding cheerful I also sounded innocent.

I set the trophy back on the shelf and, like a fool, stepped out into the bedroom.
The young patrolman jerked his gun out of its holster and pointed it right at my chest.

“Hands! Let me see your hands!” he yelled.

My hands were already up. I didn’t move. I didn’t breathe. I was pretty sure my heart
had stopped.

The officer maneuvered around so that Jennifer was also in his line of sight. But
the gun remained aimed at me.

His eyes were so wide, I thought they might actually pop out of his head. His gaze
jumped from me to Jennifer and around the room randomly. He looked more than a little
crazy. Crazy people with guns scare me. When I’m scared, I do stupid things.

I lowered my hands and smiled. “Hey. I remember you!” I did. He was the officer who
had led me into the crime scene. “I’m Grace. I came to get the Dobie, remember?”

“Don’t move! Do you hear me?”

He was screaming, so I was pretty sure the whole neighborhood could hear him.

I froze. So much for the hail-fellow-well-met technique.

His radio sputtered to life, and he seemed to relax a fraction. He grabbed the radio
with his left hand and spoke in the police jargon I could never understand.

The light in the foyer flipped on and I saw the silhouette of a man approach. “Parsons,
holster your weapon. Now.”

My heart sank, not because I wanted a gun pointed at me, but because I recognized
the voice. Kai stepped into the room, his eyes piercing me like two lasers.

Crap.

CHAPTER 18

Kai crossed his arms over his chest and looked from me to Jennifer and then back at
Officer Parsons. For some reason, he seemed as irritated with the patrolman as he
was with me.

“What’s going on, Parsons?”

“I got a call that there was suspicious activity at this address.”

“Where is your partner?”

Parsons swallowed hard and looked a little flushed. “This is a side job, sir. I was
hired by the community association to patrol the neighborhood from eleven thirty to
three thirty.”

“And you decided to investigate the call without waiting for backup?”

“I . . .” The young patrolman had started shifting his weight from one foot to the
other, as if the movement would help him evade Kai’s laser-like glare.

“Do you like being a cop, Parsons?”

“Yes, sir.”

“You like being a living, breathing cop? With no bullet holes?”

Parsons just stood there shifting back and forth. I actually felt sorry for the guy.
Until I remembered he’d pointed his gun at me. Maybe he needed to learn a lesson.

Kai said, “That was a question.”

“Yes. Yes, sir.”

“Then you make sure someone has your back. Always.”

“I didn’t think there’d be anyone in the area, sir.”

Good point. What was Kai doing here?

“Parsons, don’t think. Just do. Call for backup every time.”

“Yes, sir. I will, sir.”

Kai shifted his ire to me and Jennifer. “Ms. Wilde, Ms. Weston. I’m sure you have
an explanation for being here.”

Because he assumed we were together, I decided to run with that. I only hoped Jennifer’s
self-preservation instinct would jump on board. “We came to try and find Jax’s papers.”

“Papers?”

“His records of sale and registration. I have to have them before I can finalize the
adoption.”

“And you needed to get them at . . .” He glanced at his watch. “Midnight?”

“That’s my fault,” Jennifer said. “My study group ran late. I told Grace I had the
papers, but after we looked, I remembered they were here. I still have a key, so we
decided to run over and get them.”

I glanced at my new ally. She motioned to the drawer she’d been rifling through. “I
think they’re in here somewhere.”

“You might be able to find them if you turned on a few more lights,” Kai said.

Good point. Though I’d flipped on the bookcase light, the room was still very dim.
The rest of the house was also suspiciously dark.

“I didn’t want to see the . . .” Jennifer trailed off and seemed genuinely horrified
at the idea of having to look at the gore splashed on the living room wall. Either
she wasn’t the murderer, or she was a really good actress. Maybe she just didn’t want
to be reminded of what she’d done.

“We left the lights off in the rest of the house. I was getting ready to flip on a
couple more when this officer burst in the front door and decided to point his gun
at me. Which, by the way, I did not appreciate.”

When in doubt, go on the offensive.

Kai gave me a hard look. He didn’t buy it. But then again, he’d probably never believe
anything I said.

No one spoke for several seconds. Finally Jennifer said, “Now that I think about it,
I remember Mark saying he kept all of Jax’s stuff in the file cabinet.” She turned
and opened a drawer to the left of the desk and began flipping through the contents.
“Here. Did you need all his veterinary records, too?”

“Yeah. Thanks.”

She walked around the desk and handed me the file. I guess Jennifer’s plan was to
just assume we were off the hook. She looked at Kai expectantly. “Would you like me
to lock up and set the alarm?”

She shoots . . . she scores!
Reminding Kai she had a key was the clincher.

Kai shook his head. “We’ll handle it.”

We made a hasty but casual exit. Just two gals ready to head home after a long day.
Once we were outside, Jennifer quietly asked, “Where’s your car?”

“River Way. Two streets over.”

She nodded. “We’ll have to leave, then double back.”

“Miss Wilde?” I froze at the sound of Kai’s voice. My fingers had just reached out
to cup the door handle of Jennifer’s sporty BMW. I glanced back toward the house.
Kai stood at the open gate to the courtyard. “Can I have a quick word?”

I looked over the roof at Jennifer. “I’ll just be a minute.”

It wasn’t a long walk, but by the time I reached where Kai stood waiting, I was drained.
I wasn’t sure my brain could handle another round of questions. Or more accurately,
handle coming up with plausible answers.

Kai led me a few steps into the courtyard. I could see past him through the glass
of the front door. Officer Parsons was moving around inside, checking doors and windows
to be sure they were secure. I was glad I’d taken the time to relock the door in the
bedroom.

“Grace, please tell me the truth.”

So I was Grace again, instead of Miss Wilde. Okay, was this the good-cop part? If
so, he’d have to do better. Especially if he was going to ask me for the truth. We’d
been down that road. I hadn’t enjoyed the ride.

“Sorry, but you’ll have to be more specific.”

For several seconds, he didn’t say anything. He looked like he was trying to decide
what approach to take. “Jake has told me you’re a straight arrow. You have no connections
to the thugs LaBryce hangs out with. No drugs. Not even any traffic citations. But
then I find out you’ve gone to the Clarke estate, and now you’re running around with
Mark’s ex in the middle of the night. What’s going on, Grace?”

I felt my eyebrows arc up in disbelief. “Wait a second. You’ve been investigating
me? You really think you’ll be able to solve this murder by looking to see if I have
parking tickets?” I realized something in that moment that hadn’t occurred to me before.
“Have you been following me?”

He didn’t reply so I assumed the answer was yes. But if that was true, he would know
my story about coming to Mark’s house with Jennifer was bogus.

“I’m not following you.” His voice had dropped to a low rumble. “I needed to talk
to you. I called your cell and didn’t get an answer.”

“How did you know where I was?”

“I’m an investigator.”

I waited, but it was clear he wasn’t going to elaborate. “Okay, so talk.”

“Why did you go to the Clarke estate?”

“Gardenia Richardson wanted me to promise I’d let Bo Bishop adopt Jax.”

“And she didn’t ask you to do anything else?”

“Like?” I wasn’t about to bring up Gardenia’s demand that I find out what Jax knew
about the murder. Or her offer of payment.

“I don’t know, Grace—like helping Jennifer do whatever you’re really doing here tonight?
Maybe lie to the police. Suggest you go find a dead body . . .”

“You think Gardenia Richardson is involved in her son’s murder?” I hoped the eagerness
in my voice could be interpreted as shock.

Kai gazed into my eyes as if he was literally trying to see into my soul. “It’s difficult
to investigate a family with so much power. Buck Richardson is almost untouchable.”

“But you’re looking into the possibility that one of them is involved?”

“There have been some developments with the case. We finished going over the security
tapes. LaBryce’s car was only seen entering the neighborhood once. So unless he came
back in another car, he’s in the clear. We still have to run all the tags.”

I felt an immense wave of relief, and I let out a long sigh. LaBryce was going to
get out of jail. I didn’t have to try and extract anything else from Jax. I smiled
at Kai. It was the real Grace smile, the one that comes from deep inside and is reserved
for friends and family. I was so relieved, I didn’t even say, “I told you so!”

Kai’s expression shifted from scrutiny to expectation. I didn’t understand what he
wanted from me. “What?”

“I thought you might tell me . . .” He let the rest hang, and suddenly, I got it.
I knew what this little talk had been about. Kai wanted me to admit I’d lied about
having a psychic ability. He was hoping that giving me the news that my friend was
on his way to freedom would inspire me to recant.

I felt the smile flicker. The idea of rewinding to the moment before I had so clumsily
confessed the truth was tempting. But now that I’d taken the step, I wasn’t going
to backtrack. No one ever got very far doing that.

For some unknown reason, the idea that Kai preferred Grace the Liar to Grace the Psychic
hit me in the gut like a mule kick. It made me angry and sad at the same time. Unaccustomed
to those mixed feelings, I chose to simply turn and walk away from the source.

“Grace.”

I stopped and did an about-face. My jumbled emotions hadn’t taken long to polarize.
I was pissed. “Is this why you hunted me down in the middle of the night? To ask me
to admit I lied about my ability?”

“Your phone pinged off a tower near here. I knew if I showed up, I’d find you.”

“Find me doing something nefarious, you mean?”

“I want to know the truth.” He looked like he was almost desperate to understand me.
Like I was the only puzzle piece left and none of my edges were shaped right.

The thought rankled. “I’ve told you the truth. You don’t get to ask me to lie to you
so you can stuff me into some pigeonhole. I am not a piece of evidence to be analyzed
and categorized and filed away. If that bothers you, tough.”

I turned and walked back to Jennifer’s car. She had cranked up the engine, and the
AC was blasting. As I slid into the leather seats, I let out a slow breath, turned
to her, and said, “Let’s get out of here.”

• • •

Women know things. Intuition, or whatever you want to call it, is stamped into our
double X chromosomes.

Jennifer shot me a sideways look as she drove out of the neighborhood. We parked less
than a mile away in a dark construction site to wait. Within sight of the main road
but with the headlights out, no one would notice us.

After a respectable amount of time, she shifted in her seat and asked, “Is he your
ex or something?”

I sighed. “No. That plane was grounded before takeoff.”

“Because he’s a cop?”

“Because he’s an idiot.” Not charitable, but I wasn’t in the mood to give Kai a pass.
I glanced at Jennifer; her lips were turned up in a wry grin.

“Guys can be clueless.”

“And yet we’re surprised by it every time.”

“So, maybe we’re the clueless jerks?” She was smiling in earnest now, and I was struck
by how young she looked. At the most, I was only five years older, but tonight I felt
like I was pushing eighty. Worn out physically and mentally from lack of sleep, battling
inner demons and midnight excursions, I wanted to close my eyes and sleep for a week.

The only bright spot was the knowledge that LaBryce was soon to be cleared. I no longer
had to scale fences and creep into canine dreams in an attempt to identify a murderer.

I thought about what Kai had said about the governor and his wife and wondered if
Jennifer knew they had come under suspicion. Wes had said she was being supported
by them. Had she been at Mark’s, riffling through drawers looking to destroy some
sort of evidence? Trying to make sure her bread was buttered?

Only one way to find out.

“So, what were you really looking for?” I asked.

Her smile morphed into a closed-lip line. She shook her head.

“Were you looking for some scrap of proof you missed when you killed Mark?”

“What? No!” She looked truly shocked. “I loved Mark.”

“But you weren’t
in
love with him.” I knew it was true from the way she said it. That intuition thing
again.

She sat for a long time looking at me. Then I saw a flicker of some decision in her
eyes. “You first.”

“Me first what?”

“Tell me why you were in Mark’s house.”

I had already come up with an excuse, in case I got busted. I just hadn’t expected
to get caught with someone else. My well-crafted lie was still in my pocket. I took
it out and presented it to Jennifer.

“I lost my phone. I was at Mark’s house earlier today to get some of Jax’s things.
I figured maybe I dropped it while I was in the backyard picking up tennis balls.
So I came to look for it.”