Woof at the Door (28 page)

“I’m a scientist.”

“I understand that. But you have to trust my instincts.”

Kai regarded me for a long moment before consenting. “Okay, so
jaguar
points to Burke because he was Charm’s handler. But why would Jax consider him trustworthy?
Don’t dodge the question this time, Grace.”

Damn.

I hate breaking promises, I really do. But as I sat there looking at Kai’s stern,
handsome face, I realized my loyalties had changed. Kai believed me. Reluctantly and
not completely. But enough.

“Mark Richardson was gay. He and Burke were dating.”

Ignoring Kai’s snort of disbelief, I plowed into the story. When I’d finished, he
sat shaking his head.

“And you believe this, why? Just because Jennifer Weston swears it’s true? What if
she’s just pointing the blame away from herself?”

“I thought the same thing. But I know she’s innocent. Jax cleared her.” I explained
the happy reunion.

“After you found Burke’s body, you said Jax told you he was murdered. You were telling
the truth, weren’t you?”

I nodded.

“You’ve obviously changed your mind. Why? Why trust him to be right about Jennifer
and wrong about Burke?”

“I was caught off guard at Burke’s. The smell for one, but mostly mentally. I have
to be calm to face something like that with an animal so close. Otherwise it . . .
it can be hard.”

“That’s why you gave up the vet practice. Because of the connection.”

Maybe I’d underestimated Kai’s ability to understand me. “Sometimes it’s too much.
Sensory overload.”

Kai studied me for a moment. I couldn’t tell what he was thinking, only that he seemed
to be deciding something. I waited. Dusty had assumed the form of a loaf of bread
on my lap. Front feet tucked under, tail curving along his side. His purr was a constant
thrum. He had reached the meditative state achieved only by cats and
Shaolin
monks.

Suddenly, I was exhausted. I wanted to close my eyes and cocoon myself in the cat’s
delta brainwaves. But Kai’s cell phone chirped, and Dusty and I both jumped.

Kai got up to answer, and I realized it was getting late. The morning sun streamed
through the windows.

I was moving a disgruntled Dusty off my lap when Kai came back into the room.

“Grace. There’s been a development.”

CHAPTER 21

The tone of Kai’s voice was like a seven-pointed spur in my side. I stood, drowsiness
dissolving like fog under a bright, burning sun.

He took the mug from my hand. “Come on, let’s get a refill.”

I didn’t need a refill. Released from the feline tranquilizer, my nerves had zinged
back to life. More caffeine was a bad idea . . . I followed him into the small, neat
kitchen anyway.

Glancing around the U-shaped room, I noticed two things: One, Kai was a neat freak.
Two, he was a cook. Either that, or he had a serious knife fetish. The exterior wall,
with the requisite over-the-sink window, was adorned with more cutlery than I’d ever
seen. Displayed like artwork on magnetic strips were everything from colossal cleavers
to delicate boning knives.

Kai’s big news momentarily forgotten, I stared at the glinting blades. “Whoa. What’s
up, Dahmer?”

Kai smiled and handed me my mug. “More like Jack the Ripper.”

My expression must have been comical because he laughed.

“Should I fling this hot coffee in your face and run?”

“Wouldn’t Dusty have told you if I chopped people up? He seems to have spilled every
other bean.” Kai leaned against the counter and grinned over the rim of his mug.

“Probably.”

“An interesting way to do background checks on prospective dates.”

Not knowing what to say to that, I took a swig of coffee and changed the subject.
“So what’s the news?”

His smile dimmed. “I think you might have been right to believe Jennifer Weston. The
license plates came back on the cars entering Mark’s neighborhood. Burke’s car is
on the video.”

“So that puts him at the crime scene, right?”

“It puts him in the area. We got some things off his body that place him in the house.
Of course, he had jaguar hairs on his clothes that matched the one we found on Mark.
And a piece of confetti similar to the stuff Mark used at his party was stuck in the
tread of Burke’s shoe.”

“So that’s it? He did it? Case closed?” This seemed like terrific news. But for some
reason, Kai didn’t seem happy.

“No. Normally, it would be that cut and dry, but a little bird told me she thought
Burke was murdered. So I asked Maggie to run a more complete tox screen, and scrape
his nails for trace evidence.”

My lips parted in astonishment.

He shrugged. “It never hurts to be thorough. Plus, telling me Burke was murdered didn’t
help LaBryce, but you did it anyway. I knew you believed he hadn’t committed suicide.”

“Was he murdered?”

“Maybe.” Kai set his mug on the counter. “There are some irregularities. It seems
Burke ingested wine before he died. But no bottle or glass was found in the house.
He could have consumed it elsewhere, but it was odd. The angle of the entry on the
gunshot wound is also unusual. Not the typical temple shot—too far back on his skull.
There also seems to be evidence of unexplained bruising around the area.”

“Okay. What does all that mean?”

“Nothing. At least it didn’t until about five minutes ago. We found foreign DNA on
his body. I just got the results. Burke had epithelial cells from a woman under his
fingernails.”

“A woman?” For a moment I thought Kai was going to accuse me of being the donor. Guess
I’m paranoid.

“With seven common alleles to Mark Richardson.”

“English?”

“The DNA belongs to a close female relative.”

“You mean . . .” I felt my mouth drop open.

“We’re getting a warrant for Gardenia Richardson’s DNA. Or trying to.”

“Holy shit.”

“Yep.”

“You think she murdered Burke?”

“I think it’s possible. If she knew about Burke and Mark. She would have suspected.
Because of the condition of the body, time of death is less accurate. According to
LaBryce, Burke sent him a text the morning after the murder to say he was going to
be late. So he was alive then. Gardenia Richardson could have killed Burke anytime
after that.”

I tried playing the scenario in my head: Gardenia suspects Burke had killed her son.
She drugs him in an attempt to make him confess and then helps him pull the trigger.
Cold. Calculated. It fit her perfectly.

But then, why had she asked me to find the identity of the killer?

I told Kai about my meeting with Gardenia.

“Why would she bully me into looking for Mark’s killer if she knew it was Burke?”

“Maybe he didn’t confess. One thing seems off to me, though. I would think she would
get someone else to do her bidding.”

“Not if she wanted to keep it all a secret. Miz Gardenia would never want anyone to
know her son was gay. Silencing Burke was her only option. Even if he denied killing
Mark.”

We stood sipping coffee in thoughtful silence for a moment. Dusty wandered into the
kitchen to inspect his bowl and, finding no tuna, took a lengthy drink of water.

Preparing for a hot day of lizard hunting.

“Do you think a judge will give you a warrant?” I asked.

“Eventually. There are some on the bench who are not fans of the governor, but they’re
smart enough to tread cautiously when it comes to the Clarke family.”

Unlike moi,
I thought. “Jesus, I wanted to poke at the woman for threatening me. Talk about stupid.”

“Well, you won’t have to worry about it now. Even if we get her on trial, and she
gets off, the damage will be done.”

The idea should have made me smile, but it didn’t. “Mark has already been a victim
once. It sucks that he’ll have to be again.”

“No way to keep him out of it. Unless Gardenia falls on her sword and claims that
when she found out her son had been killed by a stalker, she confronted him and then
killed him in a fit of temporary insanity.”

Kai and I looked at each other, and I could tell we were thinking the same thing.
That if it came down to it, that was exactly what she would do. With her team of lawyers,
they could build a believable case.

“She’ll get off,” I said.

“Maybe. Probably,” he amended. “It’s way too early in the game to tell.”

“At least she’ll be arrested. Which means she’ll have a mug shot.” I smiled at that
cheerful thought, and then realized something. “I’m supposed to go out there today.
To the Clarke estate. Actually, to Bo Bishop’s cabin in the back forty. Should I cancel?”

“Hot date?” Something in Kai’s tone said he was only half joking.

“Yeah, I love men who shoot animals for fun. They’re totally my type.”

“Kind of a redneck, isn’t he?”

“Kind of?” I rolled my eyes and went to rinse out my mug. “Did you see his artwork?”

“You mean the poster of the blonde wearing nothing but chaps?”

“I missed that one.”

“It was in his bedroom.”

“Eew! No. Why were you in his bedroom?”

“He was a person of interest.” Kai took my mug and put it in the dishwasher.

“Seriously?” Bo had made my list, too, based on his familiarity with Jax.

“Yep. But we talked to the guard at the entrance to the estate, and he verified Bo’s
account of coming home somewhere between eleven thirty and twelve.”

“And you had LaBryce.” I gave him a pointed look.

“A suspect who threatened to kill Mark and couldn’t tell us where his missing gun
was.” There might have been a smidgeon of defensiveness in Kai’s voice. It was hard
to tell; he had turned his back to me to rinse out the coffeepot.

Wiping his hands on a dishtowel, he moved to face me and asked, “Anyway, why would
you cancel your appointment with him?”

“I might not be able to avoid stopping at the main house. If Gardenia knows I’m there,
she’ll want to talk to me. The woman’s a predator—she might be able to smell my smugness.”

“What time are you going?”

“This afternoon.”

“By the time you get there, she’ll either already know from one of her spies or we’ll
have served the warrant.” He hung the towel on the oven door and studied me. “Are
you sure that’s why you want to cancel?”

“What do you mean?”

“You must get attached to the animals you take care of. It can’t be easy to let Jax
go.”

I felt a lump clog my throat. Kai was right. It was hard. “It sucks. But thankfully,
I don’t foster or quarantine animals very often. Especially now that I’m . . .” I’d
almost said homeless, but I realized it wasn’t true. Even with her griping, Emma had
gone out of her way to make me feel welcome.

“You’re what?”

“House hunting. I’ll find the right place sooner or later.”

We made our way out of the kitchen back toward the living room. “The house across
the street’s for sale. If you’ve got a half a mil.”

“Jeez. You moonlight as a heart surgeon or something?”

“Nope. I got this place for a steal. It was my parents’ house.” Kai pulled the slider
open and Dusty slunk out. Ready for the hunt.

“You grew up here?”

“Yep. Couldn’t stand to move off the beach, so I bought it from my mom.” He looked
around. “I’ve changed some stuff. You know, updated this and that.”

“It looks great.” I meant it. I was envious. Having a place to fix up, with my sister’s
help, of course, would be a dream come true. “One day.”

“Well, if you get a place that needs work, you can call me. I’ve had to learn how
to do more fixing up than I ever wanted.”

He’d walked me to the door and we stood looking at each other for a heartbeat. Suddenly,
I cared that I hadn’t combed my hair or bothered to make sure my socks matched. I
looked down at my feet, on impulse, just to be sure. Both white. Safe.

I looked back up into Kai’s face, and he smiled. “After all this is over, I really
do hope you call me. Even if you don’t need my mad home improvement skills.”

“Isn’t the guy supposed to call the girl?”

“I guess.” Kai leaned in and kissed my forehead. Somehow, he made the platonic gesture
passionate. I felt my body go very still, my heart stumbling in my chest like it was
intoxicated.

Maybe it was.

Before he opened the door, he murmured, “I’ll call,” in my ear.

I still had goose bumps when I climbed into Bluebell.

So completely distracted by the sensation his promise had elicited from my body, I
almost didn’t notice the car parked down the street.

The frigging black sedan.

Morning light gleamed off the windshield like a mirror. I put Bluebell in reverse
and turned toward the sedan. A Mercedes.

As I pulled up alongside and stopped, the car’s window slid down. Stein. The Richardsons’
lawyer smiled at me benignly. I cranked my window down.

“Why are you following me?”

“Mrs. Richardson would like an update. Your friend is being released. No one else
has been arrested. Have you made any progress?”

I wanted to laugh in his face but knew better. I counted to ten and forced myself
to be polite. “Actually, I have.”

He waited expectantly.

“I’m still ironing out a few wrinkles. Tell your boss I’ll call her tomorrow.”

“Someone might come forward by then.” I had no idea what he meant. He knew it, because
he continued, “To collect the reward. Buck and Gardenia have decided to offer one
hundred thousand dollars to anyone who can provide information leading to the arrest
of Mark’s killer.”

A hundred grand?
I blinked at him, mouth agape.

“They are holding a press conference to announce it very soon. Gardenia asked that
I be sure you were informed.” With a dip of his chin, Stein raised his window and
drove away.

I sat there for several seconds, trying to process this news. Why would they offer
a reward if she knew the killer was Burke? To confuse things? Or possibly because
the governor had wanted to, and Gardenia didn’t want to refuse. That would mean he
didn’t know what his wife had done.

Well, good ol’ Buck was in for a surprise.

Unless . . .

A horn blasted me out of my reverie. Waving an apology to the car behind me, I hit
the gas and turned onto Ocean Boulevard. Not the fastest way home, but I could go
slower and think.

A hundred grand was a lot of money. Not to the Richardsons, but to a lot of people.
Including me. I let myself daydream for a minute about how much of a bolster that
kind of money would be for my house fund. I could get something on the beach, close
to the water, and have a yard.