Woof at the Door (5 page)

CHAPTER 5

“Em, this is ridiculous. It’s too tight.” The bodice of the dress squeezed me like
an anaconda. I could barely wheeze out the words.

“That’s because your boobs are too big. Here, try this one, it’s lower cut . . .”
Emma handed me a shimmering aquamarine dress.

I turned to let her unzip me, sucking in an enormous breath as I shimmied out of the
black ensemble. “Wes told me it was just us three getting together. Why can’t I wear
my clothes?”

Emma’s only response was to chuckle.

Grumbling, I pulled on the other dress. It fit perfectly.

Damn.

“You promised Wes you’d come to dinner and you are going to do so dressed properly.”
Emma handed me a pair of oversized, silver, dangly earrings.

I reluctantly put them on. “Why can’t we go to Cruiser’s?” A local hole in the wall,
Cruiser’s had the best fries on the planet and great homemade ranch dressing. Emma’s
one weak spot was their cheddar fries.

“Nice try. We are going to Madure. Wes knows the owner, and he’s got a special table
for us. Besides, I need to talk to him about an event I would like him to cater.”

“Hey, if you have to work, then I should just meet you later—”

“Don’t even try it.” Emma cut me off and held up a pair of strappy high-heeled sandals.
“These will be perfect. They may be a little too big, but with the ankle strap, they’ll
work.” Emma eyed me and, finding me lacking somehow, frowned.

“Hmm . . . close, but not quite.” Digging in her purse, Emma produced a plump cosmetic
bag.

“Oh no”—I held up my hand in self-defense—“no way, no makeup.”

My sister arched a flawlessly tweezed brow. “You brought a
Doberman
into my house.”

I sighed. “All right, just lipstick.”

“And a little eye shadow.” Emma held up a swab dusted with citrine-colored powder.

I blew out a breath, crossed my arms, and glared at my sister. “You have got to stop.
No war paint.”

“It’s M.A.C. and this color will bring out the blue of your eyes.” She grinned. “With
that dress, your eyes will really pop.”

There was no point in arguing. Emma was in “make Grace pretty” mode. It happened on
occasion. Especially when she had a good excuse like she had tonight. Wes was a successful
lawyer in Savannah. He only made it into town a few times a year, and we were celebrating
his birthday. I knew resistance was futile, so I closed my eyes and tilted my head
back to allow the application.

Emma quickly began brushing on the shadow. “Perfect. Now I just need to add a touch
of mascara . . .”

I opened my eyes to see her coming at me with some sort of metal implement. Eyelash
curlers. I backed away and shook my head. “No way, Em. I’m drawing the line at torture
devices.”

“Oh, come on. You tame lions and you can’t take eyelash curlers?”

I shook my head. “Nope. No way.”

She held up the little metal clampy thing and squeezed the ends together. In her best
German accent, she sneered, “Ve haf vays of making you talk, Dr. Jones.”

Laughing like a lunatic, I squealed loud enough to set the dogs into a state. Moss
barked and Jax surged to his feet with a low, confused growl.

I’m okay, we’re just playing
. I noticed it took Jax a while to relax after that. “I shouldn’t even be going out.
I should stay with Jax.”

“You said he needed time, right? Give him some,” Emma said. “Besides, you might actually
have fun if you’d talk to people. Mingle a little.”

“And say what? ‘Hi, I’m Grace, I communicate with animals psychically. What do you
do?’”

“You could just learn to chat, not be so prickly, for God’s sake. Hold still.” She
finished by painting a layer of gloss on my lips and beamed. “You look gorgeous.”

I was just getting ready to say something about looking more like a hooker, when the
doorbell rang. Jax and Moss, who now eyed us with only mild interest, both sprang
to the ready.

“Moss . . . Jax . . . stay.”

“I’ll get it. Put on those shoes,” Emma commanded and sauntered out of the room.

I did as she asked and teetered out of the bedroom. “Emma how do you walk in—” I broke
off mid-sentence when I stepped out of the hall into the main living area.

Kai Duncan was following my sister into the condo. He stopped dead when he saw me.
His lips parted as he took in my appearance. The sexy heels. The sinfully cut aqua
dress that flowed over my curves like water. His eyes didn’t seem to know where to
look first. Finally, his gaze settled on my cleavage before he managed to yank it
up to my face.

I crossed my arms. “It isn’t polite to stare, Mr. Duncan.”

He seemed to be struggling to find his vocal cords. I’ve been known to leave men speechless
on occasion. Usually, because I’ve cut them off at the knees. I handle machismo, unwanted
advances, and jackassery in a very precise and cold manner. For some reason, the Ice
Queen glower didn’t seem to work on Kai.

Maybe with the sexpot dress, it didn’t have the same effect.

“Sorry, you look . . . different with your hair down. And it’s Kai, remember?”

If I was vain about anything, it was my hair. Freed from its typical ponytail and
bushed into a fall of shimmering jet, it was easily my best feature. Thanks to my
grandmother’s Cherokee blood, my hair has always been thick and long and perfectly
straight. But somehow, I didn’t think it was my locks he’d been admiring.

“What are you doing here, Kai?”

“Oh, I . . .” He started to hand me a few loose sheets of paper when he became aware
of the dogs that had entered the room to stand on either side of me.

He seemed to recognize Jax from the crime scene. But Moss soon commanded Kai’s undivided
attention. He blinked a few times, almost like he thought he was seeing things. “Ah,
is that a
wolf
?”

I absently placed my hand on my dog’s enormous white head. It was easy, as it came
to my waist even in heels. “Moss is a hybrid; he’s only half wolf.”

“Really? Only half? ’Cause judging by the way he’s looking at me . . .”

“Moss won’t eat you.” I just couldn’t help myself. I let my lips curve up slightly
and added, “Unless I tell him to.” Right on cue, Moss let out a low growl.

Kai’s eyes widened, but he stood his ground. A big point for him.

Emma placed her hands on her hips. “Grace, that isn’t very polite, is it?”

I glared at Emma for a moment. “Oh, all right.”
Go on, boys
. I flicked my wrist and my two canine sentinels turned and disappeared down the hall.
“What can I help you with, Kai?”

He relaxed a little, now that he knew he wasn’t going to be eaten. “I told you to
read what you sign.” He smiled, holding out a sheet of paper.

“Excuse me?”

“The papers you signed this morning were for reclaiming an impounded vehicle. I figured
I’d save you a trip and bring you the right ones.”

I took the papers. “You came all the way out here just to give me these?”

“No. I was on my way back to work. I live in Atlantic Beach. I ran home to get some
sleep and feed my cat, Dusty.”

“Well, that was nice of him, wasn’t it, Grace?” Emma smiled coaxingly at me.

It
was
nice, damn it. And he had a cat. A cute surfer who liked cats and apparently, from
the way he had been staring, liked me.

Wait, amend that, I thought. Kai is a cute
cop.
A cop who I might have to tell about my ability
.
Then we’d see if he still liked me . . .

I started to thank him for bringing the papers just as his cell phone rang. He flipped
it open. “Duncan.” Turning, he walked back into the foyer.

As soon as his back was turned, I felt myself being pulled into the kitchen. Emma
whispered intensely as Kai talked on the phone. “What are you doing? Ask him to meet
us after he gets off.”

I rejected the idea at first, but then thought about it. Kai was clearly . . . impressed
with the way I looked in my outfit. Maybe he’d be distracted enough to give me a little
more information on the case. After a drink or two, I might even be able to flirt,
if I tried.

“You’re right, Em, I should.”

Emma gasped and clapped her hand over her mouth like I’d just cursed in church.

She started to say something, but I held up my hand. “Shhh.”

It sounded like there had been a break in the case. I heard the word
suspect
, which seemed like a good thing. I inched into the foyer to eavesdrop.

Kai’s voice echoed in the small space. “What? Why wasn’t it in its cage? Was anyone
hurt?” I felt a twinge of unease. Something was wrong. I walked out of the kitchen
and toward the front door just as Kai was opening it. As he turned away from me, I
heard him say, “LaBryce Walker’s in serious shit for this. I’m on my way.” He hung
up and I felt a sudden twist of fear.

“I’ve got to go, Grace,” he said, and started out the door.

“Wait, Kai.” I snagged his sleeve. “Is LaBryce Walker a suspect?”

“Yes. And he evidently left a little surprise for our team that went over to search
his house. His pet jaguar was out of its cage.”

“Charm.”

“What?”

My heart began to hammer in my chest. “Did they hurt her?”

“Who?”

“The jaguar.”

“Not yet, but if it gets outside—”

“Em—” I spun toward her.

Emma was already handing me my purse. “We’ll go out some other time. I’ll tell Wes
you had an emergency.”

“Thanks.” I grabbed my keys and cell phone off the hall table and walked out the door.
“Let’s go. I’ll handle the jaguar. Call your people back and tell them not to go into
the house.” I glanced back at Kai, who was looking at me as if I’d just proclaimed
I was the messiah.

“Wait a second, Grace, that thing isn’t in a cage—it’s loose in the house. It could
break through a window or—”

“Kai, call them back, please.” He followed me as I hurried down the stairs to the
parking lot. “If she’s being aggressive, it’s only because she’s confused and scared.
She’s half-blind.”

“And you know this because . . .” Kai stopped next to a small silver pickup.

I walked around and pulled open the passenger door. “I’ll explain on the way.”

Kai hesitated a moment and then, cursing, opened his door and slid in behind the wheel.
He dialed the phone and relayed my message as he drove.

“Tell them to get away from the house and turn any lights or sirens off.” I rifled
through my purse in search of a ponytail holder.

Kai did as I asked and hung up.

We sped along Beach Boulevard, Kai’s dashboard light flashing silently. “Okay, Grace,
explain to me why I just put the guys on the scene in danger by telling them not to
kill that animal.”

I paused in my search for a hair tie. “Remember about three years ago, there was a
guy breeding exotic animals up in Georgia?”

“Yeah, he got mauled to death by a tiger, or something.”

“It was a jaguar.” I quickly looped my hair up away from my face and twisted it into
a haphazard bun. “When the breeder got word that the authorities were onto him, he
panicked. He tried to take the healthiest animals with him. Somehow the male jag got
a hold of him—he’d been dead two days when we got there.”

“We? You were involved in this?”

“Along with handlers and investigators from the ASPCA and the Humane Society.” I shuddered,
remembering the appalling scene. The half-eaten man, the stench of disease and decay.
“It was terrible. The animals were all in such bad condition, most were starving,
or dead.”

I felt a lump rise to my throat. I paused and swallowed hard. God, the poor things
had all been so scared and in so much pain. And of course, I’d felt all of it.

When I spoke again, I wasn’t surprised to hear that my voice was barely more than
a whisper. “There wasn’t much we could do.”

“What happened to the survivors?”

I glanced at him and saw true compassion in his face. It made it easier to tell the
story, knowing he cared, and didn’t just want to know out of morbid curiosity.