Woof at the Door (32 page)

I lifted the battered journal. Jennifer’s eyes locked onto it. But she couldn’t take
it without letting go of the shotgun. She started to lower the gun and I shifted my
weight, ready to spring.

A siren howled in the distance. Jennifer’s head snapped toward the sound. It was a
shock to hear, but I didn’t waste time pondering the hows or whys.

Leaping forward, I brought the modified stun gun around and jabbed it into Jennifer’s
belly.

With a jerk, she dropped, crumpling face-first to the wet earth.

The shotgun thudded to the ground next to her. I knew I couldn’t hope to pick it up,
so I kicked it away.

I straddled her and lowered myself to plant one knee in the middle of her back, which
I knew would keep her from reaching the pistol at her waist. I held the stun gun against
her cheek. Her eye fluttered open and focused on the prongs of the gun.

I didn’t say anything. I didn’t have to.

Jax shuffled beside me and whined. I prepared my mind, at least as well as I could
at the moment, letting the white noise seep into my thoughts. With a final calming
breath, I dropped the barrier between us.

Fear. Confusion. Aggression. All batted at my mind.

Jen?
Jax sniffed at Jennifer’s face, and sensing her anger, let out a low, short
woof
.

It’s okay, boy.
“Jax. Sit.”

He continued to growl and pace. His eyes shifting from me to Jennifer.

I heard a chuckle, felt the vibration in my knee. “Looks like you’re not so great
with animals after all.”

I ignored Jennifer’s remark, focusing instead on reassuring Jax. The police would
be there any second. Rushing around, shouting. A confused, afraid dog was a dangerous
one. If he snapped, the cops would shoot him.

Not going to happen
.

I focused on extending the soothing blankness of my mind.
It’s okay, Jax.

Okay?

Yes, everything is okay.

He still wasn’t sure. I could feel him tense as the sirens came closer.

Finally, I gave up trying to force him to calm down by smothering him with comforting
thoughts. Instead, I drew him in. Invited him to see Jennifer from my perspective.
Her treachery, her greed, her cruelty.

Bad?

Pretty bad.

Like Bo?

Worse.

Help?

No, Jax. I got it.
He sat and waited for further directions. I breathed out a sigh.
You’re a good boy, Jax.

Jax, good boy.

CHAPTER 23

“You ready to face the dragon?” Wes smiled as we stepped onto the elevator at the
Police Memorial Building.

“Grace isn’t afraid of dragons,” Emma said, moving to flank me. “Not even ones as
scary as Gardenia Richardson.”

“I’m not afraid of her. I just don’t want to do this. I don’t want my picture in the
paper.”

“Even for a hundred thousand dollars?” Wes asked.

I sighed, but gave him a half smile. “I guess I can pose for a couple of reporters.
But after that, I have no comment.”

The last week had been a blur of hospitals, interviews with police, and finally, at
Wes and Emma’s insistence, meetings with the Richardsons’ attorney to claim the reward
for identifying Mark’s killer.

I had been reluctant at first. But considering the damage to my arm—I would be in
a sling for another two weeks—and the fact that I was, technically, the person who
had brought Bo’s palm print to Kai on the antifreeze bottle, I figured I deserved
it. Besides, I had a little surprise for Gardenia.

The doors slid open and Jake, who was standing there waiting, came forward. “Grace,
how you feelin’?”

“Good. How’s Jax?”

“He’s a pain in my ass. My wife lets him sleep in the bed. She treats him like he’s
our kid or somethin’.”

I gave him a grim nod. “Moss really misses him. If things aren’t working out—”

“You kidding me? Mary’d divorce me if I got rid of him.”

I felt my lips twitch. The burly detective loved Jax. Played tug-of-war with him and
fed him scraps. I knew, because I’d asked—Jax adored his new family.

“Come on.” Jake motioned down the hall. “Let’s feed the vultures, so you can take
your check to the bank.”

The room was set up with a row of seats in front of a blank wall. A handful of reporters
were seated, their cameramen milling around behind.

I felt my nerves begin to jangle. Public speaking freaked me out. Emma must have sensed
my sudden urge to bolt, because she murmured, “Remember, you don’t have to say anything.
Just take the check, shake hands, and smile.”

“Got it.” I sounded a lot more confident than I felt.

Wes led me to the front of the room and we waited. I saw Kai come in to stand at the
back with Jake. We shared a quick smile.

He looked tired. I knew he was working long hours, even though Jennifer Weston was
in jail.

Jennifer had been arrested for killing Bo. They were still working on finding evidence
in Burke’s case.

A murmur from the reporters drew my attention back to the present. The governor had
arrived with his petite, demure wife.

The woman had refused my claim to the reward, at first. Then Wes had gotten hold of
Mr. Stein and it had been a TKO.

The couple approached with their attorney, who made a few comments and deflected questions
pertaining to Jennifer Weston.

The governor had taken the traditional “I deeply regret having an inappropriate relationship . . .”
stance in regard to Jennifer’s paternity, claiming never to have known of her existence
and playing the shell-shocked victim of her schemes and deceit.

The media hadn’t let him off the hook. The story was too sensational. But the governor’s
spin doctors had managed to shine the spotlight more on Jennifer’s actions than the
affair that led to her birth, insinuating she had befriended Mark, then blackmailed
him into feigning a relationship with her.

Wild rumors about assassination plots were given equal airtime with the truth. A smoke-and-mirrors
tactic I was sure Gardenia had implemented.

Though Buck Richardson had taken a big hit, the governor had somehow managed to pull
some sympathy into his corner. Many saw him and his wife as a devastated couple who’d
lost their son and been betrayed not only by Jennifer, but by Bo, the orphan they’d
taken in and loved as their own.

Shaking my head inwardly, I tuned out most of what the lawyer said, and before I knew
it, it was time for the big photo op.

Buck Richardson and I posed with the check. Flashes strobed and cameras whirred. I
moved to Gardenia, but when I took her hand, I made sure she felt the piece of paper
I pressed into her palm.

Her false gratitude never wavered as she said quietly, “Grace, you surprise me.”

I met her gaze. “Just wait.”

After the chatter and hubbub died down, Wes made a final statement, and I walked to
the back of the room. Kai angled his head toward the door, and we slipped out.

“Hey.” He smiled. “Guess you can be my neighbor now.”

“Maybe. Emma’s doing the big sister thing. She won’t let me move out ’til my arm is
better, so . . .” I lifted my good shoulder.

“She almost lost you.”

“Almost. But you saved me.”

“Technically, you saved yourself.”

“Maybe.”

The antifreeze bottle had been the key. Bo’s palm print had been a match to a partial
found on LaBryce’s gun. Kai had tried to call and warn me. I could have saved myself
a lot of terror and pain if I’d checked my missed calls.

It meant more than I could say that he’d been worried enough to come riding to the
rescue.

Kai’s phone beeped, and after glancing at the message, he looked at me and smiled.
Oh man, did he know how to smile.

“I have more good news,” he said. “You’re not going to have to testify against Jennifer.”

“I won’t?” I asked with stunned relief. It had been one thing to tell Kai about what
happened at Bo’s cabin—the idea of being questioned in a courtroom full of people
gave me hives.

“She’s pleading guilty to manslaughter for Bo’s death and accessory after the fact
with Mark.”

“What about Alexander Burke?”

“She’s claiming it was all Bo’s idea. He forced her to help him dose Burke with the
drugged wine. Once Bo was able to coerce a suicide note from him, Bo drove Burke’s
car to Mark’s to leave the note on his doorstep.”

“So Bo left her there? Why didn’t she call the police? Let me guess, she was afraid
of Bo.”

He shook his head. “She says Bo instructed her to force-feed Burke the pills while
he was gone but instead she tried to revive him.”

I stared at him, incredulous. “What about her DNA under Burke’s fingernails? Can she
explain that?”

“Of course. Jennifer claims Burke woke up as she was trying to help him, but in his
confusion, he attacked her. Bo returned and struck him in the head with the wine bottle.
Which explains the bruising and odd angle of the gunshot wound—they tried to cover
the blow to his head with a bullet.”

One of the snags she’d mentioned.

“So she’s blaming everything on Bo.”

“And she’s doing it with the skill of an Oscar winner. As I watched the interview,
I caught myself nodding my head a few times. Jennifer is easy to believe.”

“She is,” I agreed but still shook my head.

“I think that’s why the state attorney is working a deal. Can you picture Jennifer
on the witness stand?”

The jury would fall for whatever story she spun. “You don’t seem upset that she’s
getting away with it.”

“Well, she’s not. She’s going to prison. Not for life, but for a while. By the time
she gets out, she won’t be able to pull off the innocent-young-girl act.”

I had a feeling it wouldn’t matter. People like Jennifer knew how to dig deep and
survive. She’d manage to claw her way out of the gutter.

“So, are you going to tell me?” Kai was now looking at me the way he did when he was
trying to figure something out.

“What?”

“You slipped something to Gardenia.” He sounded more curious than critical.

“Did I?”

“Come on. What was it?”

“Just a little note.”

Actually, it had been the piece of paper I had taken from Mark’s kitchen. But I’d
scratched out my phony list of Jax’s things and very clearly written the word
Jaguars
and the twelve-digit number from Jax’s tag.

Jaguar tag.

It had floated into my head while I was in the hospital. Apparently narcotics were
real eye-openers for me.

Some part of my subconscious mind had found Jax’s second tag odd. Then, I’d found
the notepaper in my purse and it clicked.

The piece of notepaper had been printed with the logo of an online server. Charlie
Yamada’s story of catching a criminal after finding evidence online was what really
made me connect the dots.

Mark had stored his journal files on the Internet. The online server acted like a
safe. Much more effective than a real one.

Jaguars
had been Mark’s user name. The number on Jax’s tag had been his password.

I’d given Gardenia access to Mark’s journal. I figured it was worth more than the
hundred grand. After all, she could read all the terrible secrets her son had been
ready to spill. And then hit the delete key.

I’d let her wonder if I’d made a copy.

Kai shook his head. “You’re not going to tell me, are you?”

“I like being mysterious.”

“How about over dinner? The case is almost wrapped up—”

“This must be Miss Wilde.”

Looking past Kai, I saw who had cut into my dinner proposal. I’d seen the man before.
He was Kai’s boss. As soon as his gaze latched onto my face, I was glad he wasn’t
mine.

Stern lines ran parallel between sharp brows. His white buzz cut and mustache seemed
trimmed with a precision laser. He held out his hand.

“I’m Assistant Chief Monroe.” He shook my hand. “Thank you for coming forward with
your evidence.”

“Sure.” We’d had to bend the truth about why I’d given the bottle of antifreeze to
Kai. But the why didn’t seem too important. Everyone was glad that the case was closed.

He nodded at Kai. “Sergeant Duncan tells me you have a special ability.”

I felt myself go very still. In the whirlwind of the last week, Kai and I had only
seen each other once outside of work. I hadn’t had the chance to set any ground rules.
Namely, not blabbing about my ability to anyone without my approval.

“Oh?”

“He said you’re good at seeing details. Connecting them.”

“I always liked puzzles.”

“Well, let’s hope you never have to be involved with one like this again.” Monroe
inclined his head and walked away.

“Think you can handle that?” Kai teased.

“Can you?” I looked up at him. “Tell me you won’t be tempted.”

“To what? Call you next time my only witness has four legs?”

“Or two legs and a beak.”

“Wait, you can talk to birds, too?”

I laughed, and for the first time in years, I heard the rusty hinges of the door to
my heart creak open. The sound was nerve-wracking. But hey, I tamed dragons. I could
handle it.

Right?