Woof at the Door (27 page)

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Authors: Laura Morrigan

BOOK: Woof at the Door
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I sat for a moment and considered my next move. It surprised me how easy it had been
to find Kai’s home address. Just a quick Google search and
voilà
. I was afraid convincing him to do what I asked might not be so easy.

“You are going to plainly and calmly tell him what you learned from Jennifer Weston
and ask that he look over the bottle for evidence.”

And you will not let him turn you down.

Taking a deep breath, I grabbed the bag with the antifreeze bottle and slid out of
Bluebell. Squaring my shoulders, I walked to the front door.

I knocked and then, giving in to impatience, rang the bell. The anxiety I held so
adamantly in check came roaring back when I heard the click of the dead bolt.

I swallowed hard as the front door swung open. “Hi.” I forced a smile that felt more
like a grimace.

It was returned with a puzzled frown. “Grace, what are you doing here?” Kai stood
barefoot, his hair still wet from a shower. He was dressed in a collared shirt with
the JSO logo embroidered on the breast, and khaki pants.

I forced my voice to be utterly cool. “I need to talk to you.”

Still frowning, he studied me for a moment, “What happened?”

“Can I come in?”

After several seconds of consideration, he moved to the side.

I stepped into the foyer and then followed him into an open living room with parquet
floors. The room was tidy and comfortable—lived-in without being cluttered.

Kai propped one hip on the back of a wicker and rattan couch and crossed his arms.
“What’s going on?” His keen gaze had assessed me as soon as he’d opened the door.
I’d seen my reflection when I’d gone back to the condo to get the antifreeze bottle
and hunt down Kai’s address. Eyes red and puffy. Lines of fear, sorrow, and anger
scored my face. I knew I looked like death with a hangover. I didn’t care.

“I need a favor. I know I have no right to ask, but it’s important.” I paused and
took a steadying breath. I held out the grocery bag. “I know it’s probably against
the rules, but I was wondering if you could get fingerprints off something for me.”

“Grace, tell me what happened.”

“Someone poisoned my dog, Moss.”

Kai’s eyes flicked over the bag. “The wolf?”

I nodded. “Last night.”

Kai opened the grocery bag and pulled out the bottle Emma had sealed in a Ziploc.
“Antifreeze. Jesus. Is he all right?”

“I don’t know. He might have severe kidney damage.” My eyes grew hot. But the sting
of tears didn’t come. I’d cried myself empty.

“I’m sorry, Grace.” Kai’s voice was filled with sympathy. For a moment, it seemed
he might reach out to me. I stepped back. I didn’t think I could stand to be comforted
right then. I might not have any tears left, but that didn’t mean I wouldn’t completely
unravel in the strength of his embrace.

I forced myself to refocus. “Jennifer told me something last night.” I paused, hating
to betray a confidence. But as I watched Kai set the antifreeze bottle on the side
table, I knew it was my only bargaining chip. “I’ll tell you, if you promise to look
at the bottle.”

“So this isn’t really a favor. You want to make a deal.” All compassion had vanished
from Kai’s face, replaced with hard lines of suspicion.

“Call it what you want. I know who poisoned Moss. My next-door neighbor, Burt Cavanaugh.
I just need proof.”

“Okay. I’ll check the bottle for prints. But if this guy isn’t in the system, it won’t
do much good.”

“Thank you.”

Kai waited. It was time for me to hold up my end of the bargain. “Jennifer said Mark
was being stalked by Alexander Burke.”

Kai raised his brows, but not in surprise. It was more of a “This is your big news?”
look. When I didn’t continue, he said, “And . . .”

I tried to think of a way around telling him about Mark and Burke’s relationship.
I had promised not to, after all. “Jennifer said Burke was crazy. He had sent Mark
several letters. That’s what she was doing at Mark’s last night. Looking for a letter
to show you, so you’d go question Burke.”

“And what about you, Grace? What were you doing there?”

So he hadn’t bought our story. Not surprising. I thought about trying the phone excuse,
but just then, I felt a whisper of an animal mind. The presence of a feline brain
hummed just inside my periphery. “You have a cat.”

“Yes. I told you about him.”

I had forgotten that he’d mentioned having a cat. An idea began to form. I looked
in the direction of the buzz. A few feet away, a sliding glass door led outside. I
stepped toward it and spotted my target. A gray cat crouched behind the thick monkey
grass that edged the patio. He was captivated by something moving in the long leaves.

Hunting.

So intent was the animal’s focus that he started when I tapped on the glass, staring
up at me with round, chartreuse eyes.

I glanced over my shoulder at Kai. “What’s his name?”

Kai raised his eyebrows and cocked his head. “Why don’t you ask him?”

“I will.”

I unlatched the door and slid it open. The cat trotted in, meowing a greeting. I knelt
down and began speaking to him softly. “Hello, kitty.” I ran my hand gently from head
to tail.
Let’s show Daddy that I’m not a whack job. What do you say?

The cat pushed into my hand. I cupped my fingers and scratched under his chin. Pure
pleasure radiated from him in warm waves.
Good. Yes. There.

It would be tricky. If the cat wasn’t talkative, and you never knew with cats, it
might not get me much. But it was worth a try. I focused on drawing the cat’s name
out of his contented brain.

Dusty.
As soon as I gleaned that tidbit, I remembered Kai had told me when he’d come to
the condo. I couldn’t use it as proof of my ability. And that was exactly what I was
planning to do. Prove I could do what I’d claimed.

I thought about Sonja, the beautiful Saint Francis medal, and knew that this was my
chance. I would lay it all on the table.
What’s it going to be, Grace, half-ass or badass?
Last time, I’d done a half-assed job of showing Kai what I could do. Not this time.

Pressing every distraction out of my mind, I reached for Dusty’s. The cat spun under
my hand and looked up with a questioning squeak.

Gotcha.

It took a while. Dusty was very chatty, and that was a good thing. I beamed down at
the cat—he was just full of interesting stories. I laughed and glanced up at Kai.
“I’ll be sure to tell him.” Smiling, I stood and turned to face him.

With a look of supreme skepticism, Kai leaned back on the couch. “A message from Dusty?”

I stood in front of him and said, “Your cat wants you to know that he doesn’t want
you to take showers anymore.”

“Excuse me?”

I couldn’t suppress my grin. “He’s afraid you’ll drown. That’s why he stands on the
back of the toilet and cries while you’re in the shower.”

“What?”

“Oh, and he wants you to change the doorknob on your bedroom door back to what it
was.”

Kai stared at me, stunned. “The doorknob?”

I nodded. “I have to admit, I’m not really sure what that means.”

Lips parted in shock, he looked from me to the cat. “Dusty could open the door,” Kai
murmured, almost to himself. “He would reach up and pull down on the lever with his
paw and open my bedroom door in the middle of the night. It used to scare the shit
out of me. I almost shot him twice.” Kai focused on me. “I changed it to a regular
turn-style knob. How did you know that?”

“You’re really asking me?”

“But. You can’t really talk to animals. That’s just . . . impossible.”

“He disagrees.” I motioned to Dusty, who had begun weaving through my ankles like
a furry ribbon.

“I don’t believe it. Psychics don’t exist.”

“Believe it. Or don’t. But to answer your question, I was planning on bringing Jax
back to Mark’s house to see if he might remember more of the murder. I was serious
when I told you he saw what happened.”

“Wait.” Kai held up his hand. “More of the murder? You mean he’s remembered some of
it?”

“Yes. Bits. Mostly emotions. The images I’ve seen don’t make much sense.”

“Tell me.”

I scanned Kai’s face. His brow was furrowed. Eyes bright, intense, and filled with
some emotion I couldn’t pin down. Doubt? Anger? Impatience?

I tried to explain the images and feelings Jax had shared with me. “It was dark, obviously.
Jax was outside. He seemed to know who was coming to the door. There was a sense of
anticipation. Then . . . violence. Fear. Helplessness. And . . .”

“And?”

“Betrayal.”

“So you’re saying the dog felt deceived in some way?”

“No. It was more shocking. Jax trusted the person who came to the door. Felt they
were . . . family.”

“Family,” Kai repeated. He seemed to consider the idea for a long time. He raked his
hand through his hair and muttered, “I can’t believe I’m buying this.”

I felt my back go up. “No one’s asking you to buy anything.”

“Okay. Sorry. I’m just trying to get my head around what you’re telling me.”

“If you have a cup of coffee, and an open mind, I think I might be able to explain
it to you.”

After a long pause he nodded. “Yeah, okay. Have a seat. I’ll grab a couple of mugs.”

I sat on the sofa. Dusty leapt onto my lap a nanosecond after my rear made contact
with the cushion. I chatted with the cat while I waited for Kai to return with coffee.
Dusty was happy and calm. I laid my head back and relaxed into his consciousness.
It embraced me like a warm cloud. His purring vibrated in my head like the lull of
ocean waves.

I needed to get a cat. They were better than Prozac.

“Black is all I can offer.” Kai’s voice jerked me back to reality.

I opened my eyes. Kai handed me an oversized mug and sat on the sofa, turning to rest
his back on the arm so he could face me.

“I’m out of milk. And sugar. And just about everything else but mustard.”

“I’ll live.” I didn’t care what kind of coffee was provided as long as it wasn’t decaf.

“Okay. I need to understand this before we can talk about what Jax may or may not
have seen. Do animals have a vocabulary, or is it more like a vision?”

I took a sip of coffee as I tried to think of a good way to explain it. “It’s a combination.
If an animal has learned a lot of words, then it’s more like a mental conversation.
But most of the time it’s, I don’t know, like sensory perception. I can see, feel,
and sometimes even hear, their thoughts.”

“How do you ask a question?”

“It can be tricky. Depending on the animal’s intelligence, and some other stuff, I
can usually just think a question, with a little added imagery, and get a solid answer.
Like I did with Dusty.” I ran my hand over the cat, who had settled contentedly in
my lap. “He’s a very smart cat. I just asked about you, while kind of showing him
your face and . . .” I paused. I’d never really attempted to put what I did into words.
It was proving to be both a challenge and a thrill.

Kai was waiting for me to finish.

“I don’t know, questions are . . . they have a different feeling. In my head. Like
opening a door or a box. I open the box with an image and a thought and wait for the
animal to fill it.”

I focused on Kai’s face, wondering if anything I’d just said made a lick of sense.
He was listening. Frowning, but listening.

“Anyway, like I said, Dusty was easy. He likes to talk. And sometimes animals just
tell me things on their own. Like when you went to get the coffee, Dusty was very
interested. He thought you might be opening a can of tuna. He told me that sometimes
you pour the water from the can on his dry food. When you do that, he always makes
sure to leave a whole lizard on the back step. Head and all. Even though that’s his
favorite part.” I took a sip of coffee to shut myself up.

Kai’s pensive look had changed. He was staring at me in flabbergasted silence.

“Um . . . anyway. I guess I’m trying to say that, normally, I can get plenty of information
from a dog as smart as Jax. But right now, it’s just too much for him.”

Kai wrinkled his brow. “Post-traumatic stress?”

“It happens to people all the time.” I searched his face for a sign of comprehension,
but saw only doubt. “It may be hard to believe that a dog could be so affected, but
he is.”

“So you went to Mark’s last night to try and jog something loose?”

“That was my hope.”

“Where was the dog?”

“Jax was in Bluebell a few blocks away.” At his confused look, I added, “Bluebell’s
my Suburban.”

Kai was probably thinking,
Great, I’m sitting here with a woman who talks to animals and names her cars.

“Anyway, I never got the chance to take him through the house. Maybe now it won’t
matter.”

“Because you believe Jennifer Weston’s suggestion that Burke killed Mark?”

“Yes. It makes sense, doesn’t it?”

Kai shook his head. “No. If you’re right about Jax feeling betrayed by the killer,
Burke doesn’t fit. He wasn’t close enough.”

I chose not to comment. Instead I said, “There’s something else. I got one solid thing
from Jax. Kind of solid. Jaguar.”

“Jaguar? What, like the team? The animal?”

“The animal, I think.”

“You think.”

I let out a long, measured breath. “It’s not an exact science.”

Kai sat looking at me, those intelligent eyes probing. Uncertainty filled his face.

I returned his gaze and sighed. Of all people to reveal my ability to, I’d picked
a man who dealt in tangible facts and physical evidence. How could I expect him to
understand? “I’m aware that you usually don’t work like this. You’re just going to
have to trust me.”

“It’s hard to trust what you don’t understand.”

“I’m sorry. I realize this is a lot for someone like you to grasp—”

“Someone like me?”

“What I mean is you don’t get it. You’re never going to get it because you can’t dissect
it under a microscope.” I tried to ignore the warm stirring of my temper.

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