Woof at the Door (26 page)

I rolled my eyes. “Em . . .”

“Not that. Well, not
just
that.” She smiled. “Kai thinks you’re lying. So in his mind, you can still tell him
the truth.”

“He’s not going to listen—”

She held up a finger. “No, you’re not listening.” She paused to make sure I was paying
attention. “The truth, in Kai’s opinion, isn’t that you’re telepathic. It’s something
else. Go to him and make a deal. He looks over the bottle for proof of who poisoned
Moss, and you’ll tell him everything you know.”

I thought about what he’d said last night. He wanted the truth. “Just make something
up?”

“I might be able to give you some scoop.” She handed me a mug of coffee and pulled
the cream out of the fridge. I watched as she made herself a cup and realized how
tired she must be to shun her usual tea. “I talked to Eric Ruby. He plays tight end.
And for good reason.” She grinned. “Anyway, he seemed to think whoever Mark was dating
was a big secret. But I got a name. Alex. Eric overheard Mark on the phone and he
called the new girl Alex. Pretty good, huh?”

I felt my mouth drop open, but not because this was a revelation. I knew who Alex
was. I was shocked at myself. I couldn’t believe I hadn’t told Emma about my conversation
with Jennifer Weston.

“I forgot to tell you.”

“What?”

“I know who Mark was seeing. Alexander Burke. Mark was gay.”

Emma’s eyebrows shot up toward her hairline. I told her the short version of my night.
Breaking into Mark’s house. Running into Jennifer Weston. Her story that Mark and
Burke had been dating.

“So Burke was the stalker. Well, that explains the jaguar thing.” At my blank look,
she added, “The note. You made me write down
jaguar
, like it was the key to something.”

“What about the
tag
part?”

“Tag. Jag. Who knows what you were saying? I was lucky to figure
jaguar
out. But it makes sense. Burke would have smelled like a jaguar.”

“I’m still having a hard time with the idea of Burke as the murderer. If Jennifer’s
right and Burke killed Mark and then killed himself, why would Jax have told me Alex
was murdered?”

Emma looked thoughtful as she sipped her coffee. “Have you ever been to a suicide
with a dog before? Maybe the feeling is the same.”

“Maybe.” Something still didn’t seem right.

“Or maybe Jax was also thinking about Mark’s murder. He sees, or smells, Mark’s killer
and his thoughts get all mixed together.”

“That makes more sense.”

“Well, it looks like you’ve got something to tell Kai after all.”

“I promised Jennifer I wouldn’t tell anyone about Mark.”

“Well, you’ll have to break that promise.”

I nodded, but I really hoped I could come up with something else to tell him. I glanced
at the clock; it wasn’t even five yet. Too early to go to Kai’s office, and I needed
to take care of Moss before I did anything else.

“I’m going to grab a quick shower and then take Moss to get some blood tests,” I told
Emma.

“You’ll call Hugh?”

“No, there’s one other person in the world who loves Moss enough to get up at this
hour.” I poured my cooled coffee into the sink and called Sonja.

CHAPTER 20

Just before dawn, I pulled into the ASPCA parking lot. Sonja had gone from half-asleep
to wide awake when I had called her and told her what happened. She had insisted I
bring Moss in as soon as possible.

I’d decided to leave Jax at the condo with Emma. His big meeting with Bo was later—he
needed some calm and quiet.

Sliding out of Bluebell, I started toward the building, but only made it a few steps
before Sonja pushed open the front door and rushed out to meet me. Worry lines creased
her smooth ebony face. “How is he?”

“He seems a bit better.”

“Should we carry him in?”

I nodded. “He’s pretty out of it.”

We walked back to Bluebell, and I opened the door to the backseat. Moss blinked up
blearily at Sonja.

“Well, hello, handsome. Let’s get you fixed up.” I was eternally thankful that her
voice was calm and held no trace of tears. I wouldn’t have been able to handle it
if Sonja had started crying at the sight of him.

Moss thumped his tail sluggishly against the seat at the sound of her voice.

Sonja gave him a quick pat and then grabbed the sides of the blanket. She and I used
it as a stretcher to haul him into the clinic. My shoulder twinged a few times, reminding
me that it was still injured.

“As many times as I’ve seen these things, it never fails to piss me off.” Sonja puffed,
struggling a little with the weight of the giant wolf-dog. “Take him to my office.
No reason to lug him all over the place.”

We maneuvered Moss into Sonja’s office and placed him gently on the cool tile floor
by her desk.

“He can stay in here with me today.”

I knelt beside him and felt a wave of dizziness flow from the dog. I tried to ease
his unsteadiness by taking a slow, focused breath.
Easy, boy. You’re okay.

I looked up at my friend. “Who’d you call in?”

“Dr. Patrick. He should be here any minute.” Sonja glanced at the clock and joined
me on the floor and began gently stroking Moss’s head. “He’s going to fix you up,
sweet boy.”

I knew, if anyone could, it was Dr. Patrick. He had been a vet longer than I had been
alive, had countless hours of experience, and even more important, he had great instincts.
I was grateful to Sonja for calling him.

“Any idea who did it?” She lifted her gaze to me.

“We have a neighbor who’s been complaining about Moss. He’s the most likely candidate.”

“I can get a couple of our investigators to question him if you want.”

“That would be great.” Having an official record of the poisoning would be the key
to bringing him down. If I failed to persuade Kai to check for evidence on the antifreeze
bottle, the ASPCA investigation would be all I had.

Thankfully, Dr. Patrick arrived to distract me from my thoughts. He always reminded
me of a beardless Santa, with his rotund belly and half-moon glasses. Speaking in
a low, calming monotone, he quickly performed his examination of Moss. He asked me
several questions, and I was relieved to see he seemed somewhat optimistic about Moss’s
recovery.

He peered at me over his glasses and gave me a gentle smile. “We’ll keep him drunk,
and I’ll run some tests to try to determine the extent of the damage to his kidneys
and such. It may just make the difference that you were able to treat him quickly.
We’ll have to wait and see. I’d like to keep him here.”

Sonja said, “I’ll keep him in here with me. I’ve got paperwork I’ve been putting off.”

“Thanks.” I knew there was nothing more I could do. But I was reluctant to leave,
so I lowered myself to sit next to Moss. It was hard to tell if he was better or not.
The vodka was making him as loopy as the antifreeze. I still felt wave after wave
of dizziness from him and had to swallow back the urge to be sick over and over.

“Why don’t you go on and do what you need to do today. I’ll watch him.” Sonja had
joined me on the floor and sat on the other side of Moss. When I didn’t answer, she
added, “Don’t put yourself through this, Grace. You’re making yourself sick.”

I looked over at my friend. Her voice was gentle, but it carried an edge. “What?”

Sonja sat, quietly studying me for a long moment. She shook her head and sighed, like
I was the dunce of the class. “You remember the first week you came to volunteer here?
When you were off for the summer during college?”

I nodded, not sure where she was going with this.

“One day, we got a call about some abandoned horses.”

“Out near Kent. I remember.”

“So do I. We’re all out in this muddy field in the pouring rain, and the stallion
breaks out of his stall and comes charging across the corral. Right at you.”

I remembered it vividly. I had been standing between him and the other horses. The
stallion had viewed me as a threat to the herd. It had taken every ounce of my courage
to stand my ground and stay calm. My lack of reaction as he reared had confused him.
Was I friend or foe?

The stallion stopped and stared. Nostrils flaring, mind racing, he attempted to assess
the situation. I had taken advantage of his hesitation and used my ability to reach
out with my mind. I managed to smother his blinding panic with a blanket of calm.
I’d soothed him. Reassured him. And eventually, to everyone’s amazement, led him quietly
into the transportation trailer.

“I’ll never forget it,” Sonja said. Her voice was hushed. Her dark eyes seemed as
depthless as the ocean. “You turned and faced that horse, and I knew you were different.
I watched you. Over and over you did things, knew things,
felt
things no one else did. And now you’re sitting here torturing yourself.” She tsked.

“You know?” I was shocked. I shouldn’t have been. Sonja was wise. An old soul, my
grandmother would have called her.

“Of course I know,” she said, indignant. “Anyone who’s seen you work would know, if
they wanted to see it.”

“Really?”

“Please, girl. You’d have to be blind. Or stupid.”

I thought about it. Kai was neither of those things. “I don’t know. I think some people’s
brains just aren’t wired to accept it. Me.”

“Maybe.” Sonja’s shrewd gaze swept over my face. “If that’s the case, it’s not on
you. If these people don’t want to accept you, they’re doing it for their own reasons.
We can all choose what we’ll believe and what we won’t.”

“I didn’t think
you’d
believe me.”

“Do I look stupid to you?”

I shook my head and smiled. “Honestly, I wasn’t only afraid you wouldn’t believe me,
but if you did, you’d think I was some sort of freak or something.” I thought about
the instigator of that fear. Dane Harrington. “My first year of college, I fell madly
in love with this guy. When he saw what I could do, he dropped me like I was on fire.”

“What happened?” Sonja asked.

I sighed. “We were in the Bahamas. A small pod of bottle-nosed dolphins beached themselves
in a lagoon near our hotel. I went down to see if I could help. The inlet was really
shallow with a lot of sandbars; it made their sonar all screwy. Every time the rescuers
got them in the water, they’d beach again.”

“What did you do? Even you can’t fix that. Can you?”

“No. I didn’t try to fix it. We got them pointed in the right direction at high tide,
and I swam them out past the sand bars into open water.”

“You did what?” Sonja asked, eyes wide.

I chuckled at her astonishment. “It sounds a lot more heroic than it was. I’ve been
a swimmer all my life, plus I had on fins and snorkel gear. Anyway, once they were
out deep enough, they swam away. I came back to shore and Dane asked me how I managed
to get the dolphins to follow me.”

“And you told him the truth?”

“I did. I thought he’d find it interesting. After all, we were in love; nothing could
come between us, right?”

Sonja shook her head, knowing that wasn’t how the story ended. “Ugh, I’m sorry.”

I shrugged. “I used Dane as an excuse for a long time. I’ve always hated people who
wallow in self-pity.”

“Feeling sorry for yourself is something everyone does at some point in their lives.
The real test of character comes when it’s time to stand up, dust off, and get back
on the horse. It doesn’t matter how long it takes to do it. As long as you can mount
up and go for another ride.”

On impulse, I reached over and hugged my friend. I started laughing. Sonja joined
in. The movement nudged Moss and he stirred.

Sonja leaned back and gave Moss a gentle pat. “What is it? Is he okay?”

“I hope so. It’s hard to tell.” I softly stroked his head, willing him to get better,
professing my love and promising all the people food he could ever want.

“Okay, that’s enough.” Sonja gave my arm a little squeeze. “You’re making yourself
sick again. You need to get out of here. I’ll call as soon as I know something.”

I puffed my cheeks and blew out a breath. “Okay.”

Pulling herself to her feet, Sonja started toward the door then stopped. “Oh! I know.
I’ve got something I want to give you.” She turned and opened one of her desk drawers.
She handed me a small, worn, white cardboard box. “I’ve had it for years, thought
I’d lost it. I came across it a few weeks ago and planned to give it to you for your
birthday. I think today is better.”

I stood and slowly opened the box. Inside, tucked in cotton, was a silver medallion
on a delicate chain. I peered closely at the figure on the pendant. It was a monk,
flanked by several creatures and holding a bird in one hand. Even though I had been
raised a heathen, only attending church when my grandmother dragged us to the tiny
Baptist chapel where she lived, I still recognized the icon. “Saint Francis.” I was
touched. Saint Francis of Assisi, the patron saint of animals. “It’s beautiful.”

“I had it engraved.” She lifted the necklace out of the box and flipped the medal
over.

JOB
12:7
was inscribed in bold text. “A Bible verse?”

“It makes me think of you every time I read it. ‘But ask now the beasts, and they
shall teach thee; And the birds of the heavens, and they shall tell thee.’” She opened
the clasp, and I turned to let her fasten it around my neck. “God blessed you with
an ability. Don’t take it for granted.”

I turned back to face my friend, hugged her, and whispered, “I’ll remember. Thank
you.”

She patted me. “I’ll call about Moss as soon as we know something.”

I nodded and sent Moss several mental reassurances before I left.

It was time to call in a favor.

• • •

It was still insanely early. Not even six. Some industrious folks were out for morning
walks, but mostly Dolphin Street was quiet. Glancing at the address I’d scrawled on
the paper, I found the right number and pulled into the driveway.

So this is Kai Duncan’s house. Cute.

A giant magenta bougainvillea engulfed one side of the house and draped gracefully
over a trellis. Its beautiful flowering limbs swayed and shuddered in the breeze.
The rest of the landscaping followed the bold flowering vine’s lead—island-style rustic
with clusters of banana trees, hibiscus, and beach morning glory.

The house itself was small, dating from the early sixties, when just about anyone
could afford to live on the beach. It had been skillfully updated with stucco and
cheerful coral paint.

The overall impression was that of a secluded tropical bungalow.

Kai the surfer lived here, not Kai the cop. Part of me regretted that I’d never get
a chance to know the surfer better.

The thought brought on a rush of anger, which quickly devolved into a flutter of nerves.
I glanced up and down the street and distracted myself by wondering how much the real
estate in this neighborhood went for. I’d seen
FOR SALE
signs in a number of yards. Maybe I’d widen my house-hunting search to include Atlantic
Beach. These homes seemed to be on deep enough lots. Moss needed a yard.

My heart squeezed. The thought of my dog elicited a painful spasm in my chest. I refused
to imagine he would not recover from the attack.
Moss will get better,
I told myself sternly.
And he will need a yard.
I promised to grab a few real estate flyers when I left. But first things first.