by Jen Blood
Finally, at quarter till eleven, my phone vibrated. I looked at it and caught my breath at sight of Bear’s cell number. I answered as I was leaving the courtroom, but at least waited until the door was shut behind me before I spoke.
“What’s going on?” I asked, already imagining the worst. He was sick; he’d been stabbed; they were foregoing the trial because they’d decided he was guilty and no one could change their minds.
“Can you pick me up?” he asked. “I don’t have my truck.”
“What do you mean, can I pick you up? I’m at the courthouse—I thought there was a hearing.”
“Sorry I didn’t call sooner. I thought there was, too; I’ve been freaking out, but I guess my lawyer convinced them that with Albie gone and only circumstantial evidence otherwise, there was no way the judge would even hear my case.”
It took me a second to register that. “So, you’re just…free?”
“I can’t leave town,” he said. “They’re still investigating, and Doug says this doesn’t mean I’m free and clear. I could still be charged.”
“But you can come home now.”
“Only if someone comes and gets me.”
I smiled at that. Wonder of wonders, it actually sounded like there was some humor back in his voice. “I’ll be right there. Don’t go anywhere.”
“Yeah, right.” He hesitated. “And… uh, thanks, Mom.”
My eyes welled, and I took a deep breath. “I’ll be there in a few minutes.”
Bear was sitting on a bench outside the jail when I arrived, wearing jeans and a Polo shirt I’d brought him for court. He had completely balked at the idea of wearing a suit to his hearing, and the lawyer had agreed that this would be acceptable. Personally, I wasn’t sold on that—all the more reason to be grateful there would be no hearing. He was freshly shaven, and his hair neatly brushed. Maybe I was prejudiced, but I could understand why a girl like Julie Monroe might be taken with him.
“Need a lift?” I asked.
He smiled at me—the kind of smile I’d been missing in recent months.
“That would be good,” he agreed.
He stood, and I pulled him into a bone-crushing hug. He tensed. Then, he didn’t necessarily return the hug, but he didn’t push me away, either. I counted that as a win.
“You ready to head back to the island?”
“Hell yeah.”
We set out together, a thousand-pound weight lifted from my shoulders. He might not be fully cleared yet, but seeing Bear behind bars was something I would do just about anything to avoid repeating.
#
Three days passed before there was any word about Fred or Albie. Tim Monroe had woken by this time, and confirmed that Nancy had shoved him into the hole with Albie’s help, though he believed he may have been drugged beforehand. He never saw Fred, but he couldn’t say for certain that the man wasn’t involved.
Jack went out to Philadelphia early in the week to dig deeper, and found that the insurance company Fred had listed as an employer had laid him off six months ago, and he’d left his apartment around the same time. He’d left no forwarding address, and when Jack spoke with the man’s neighbors, he got a familiar line:
Fred was quiet, kept to himself. They supposed in hindsight that he could have been capable of something like this, but they’d never suspected anything at the time.
I learned all of this on Thursday, as Jack walked the island with me upon his return from Philly.
“So, what do you think happened?” I asked him, as we approached the kennels that afternoon. “Do you think Fred is the one who killed Nancy?”
“I do,” he said, after a moment’s hesitation. “I considered it when I first talked to him—his alibi was shaky, and he seemed more relieved than grief-stricken at his mother’s death.”
“That doesn’t really mean anything,” I pointed out. “Families are complicated, especially one like that. He didn’t necessarily have to kill her to feel some weight taken off when she was gone, considering all she put him through.”
“So, you don’t think he did it?” he asked, surprised.
“I’m not saying that. I just…” I shrugged. “Families are complicated,” I repeated.
“I’m not sure that he was involved with the other murders, though,” Jack conceded.
“He at least knew about them,” I said, recalling the echo of his voice outside the old root cellar. “He may not have killed them, but he was aware of at least some of what was happening.”
Jack didn’t fight me on that, and he didn’t question how I was so sure of it, for which I was grateful. I was still building up to telling him about the voices I’d heard that night, afraid he would insist I head to the nearest ER for every costly test on the menu. I would tell him eventually, no doubt.
Just not yet.
We stopped outside the kennel entrance, and Phantom immediately came to life. Her tail waved, ears pricked forward, as she waited impatiently for me to open the door.
“She’s really got it bad,” Jack noted.
“You have no idea. She whines when we leave Reaver in the evenings, and just about loses her mind when we get up to take him for a walk in the morning.”
Sure enough, she pranced mindlessly beside me, then nearly bowled me over when I got the door open. Considering the fact that she’d been trained to wait beside me before going through an open door, I was not amused.
“Wow. What did you do with everyone?” Jack asked when he saw the empty kennels inside.
“Foster homes, mostly. The pugs and the Jack Russell went to breed-specific rescue, and Bear’s dropping Cody—that Newfie there—off with Hank tonight.”
I nodded toward a kennel that seemed impossibly large for a dog that should have dominated the space. Cody had had a rough time of it since coming to us, though: he’d been shaved down to the skin to treat his mange and a series of lesions on his back and belly, and without all that fur it quickly became clear just how horribly underfed he actually was. Despite all that, the Newfie continued to maintain one of the best attitudes I’d ever seen in a dog, and I was grateful that a loving home was already waiting for him. Hank had been over to the island the day before to meet with Cody, and the dog’s reaction was immediate and unequivocal: he knew Hank. What’s more, he loved the guy.
“And Reaver?” Jack asked, as we made our way down the aisle of kennels.
“There’s a guy Monty recommended from the Army. He’s going to evaluate Reaver tonight, see if he can figure out what unit the dog came from and maybe help us find a placement from there. And there are people who foster or adopt retired military dogs, so I’m looking into that.”
“So, you’re really not keeping him,” he said, clearly not believing me.
Phantom had reached the pit bull’s kennel, and the two of them greeted each other with wagging tails and whines, both prancing impatiently as I opened the kennel door.
“I don’t know that he’ll be able to be a working dog again,” I said. “I’m looking for a pup to take on and train so they can take over when Phantom retires. Reaver doesn’t exactly fit the bill.”
Unlike my dog, Reaver sat patiently inside his kennel until I released him. “Okay, Reaver.”
He hopped up and rushed out the door to be with Phantom. I didn’t bother with a leash this time. I’d been working with him constantly over the last few days, and as far as I was concerned the dog was bulletproof, both on leash and off.
“So, maybe you don’t adopt him for you,” Jack suggested, eyeing the happy couple. Phantom play bowed like a puppy, tail whooshing, and then dashed away. Reaver loped after her, and I was awed at the progress he’d made in such a short time. His mange was clearing up, his body filling out, and he seemed to have a perpetual grin—as though he knew full well the second chance he’d been given.
“We’ll see,” was the only answer I would give Jack, though I think in retrospect my mind was already made.
It was six o’clock by now. My appointment
with the Army officer was for seven-thirty, the earliest he could meet me. Bear had arranged to drop off Cody at the same time, so we wouldn’t have to make more than one trip to the mainland. Overhead, the sky was dark, a balmy wind gusting in. The hurricane had finally hit the South on Wednesday, and we were seeing the residual effects now.
Monty had been gone for days now, and at last check-in had told me he was still searching for his daughter and the girl’s mother. He had assured me then that he didn’t need the team, but I didn’t think that would last. Eventually, he would have to break and ask for help—it happened to the best of us.
Jack and I walked in silence behind the dogs, content to watch them play. When we were far enough away from prying eyes, alone on a wooded trail, Jack stopped walking and turned to look at me. He was smiling.
“You look happy,” I noted.
“Do I?” He considered that. “Probably because I am. I already have two new cases thanks to the publicity from finding Tim Monroe alive.”
“That’s not a surprise. Barbara sure talked you up, huh?”
“I’ll take it if it helps me stay afloat,” he said with a shrug. “It’s summer, so I’m not freezing nearly as often as I am the rest of the year here. Cash and the kittens are settling in…” He trailed off. His eyes found mine, and I hurried to keep the conversation on safe ground.
“Have you decided who you’ll keep and who you’ll adopt out?”
“Cash and Harvey. They do well together—I think Cash would be depressed if I let the little guy go. The others deserve their own families. They’ll do fine somewhere else.”
“Cash and Harvey are lucky cats, then.”
“You think?” he looked away self-consciously. “I actually… I was talking to my landlord. Have you ever heard of a catio? It’s a patio, but for cats—an outdoor enclosure, so they get fresh air without the danger of being set loose outside.”
I tried not to smile—I really did. I didn’t succeed, though.
“And now you’re laughing at me.”
“No, I’m not.” He gave me a look. “Okay, not that much,” I conceded. “But I think it’s nice. The cats would love that. I can give you a hand, if you want. I’ve built a few of them at different facilities over the last couple of years.”
“That would be nice. Thanks.”
Silence fell between us. Phantom and Reaver were still cavorting up ahead, crashing through the underbrush like pups. It really was incredible: seven years with Phantom, and I’d never once seen her behave like this.
“So…” Jack said after a moment, letting the word trail off. I shifted my attention from the dogs back to him.
“Yes?” I prompted, when he said nothing more.
He took a step closer. “I was wondering about… Well…”
Jack Juarez is, hands down, the most attractive man I’ve ever seen outside of Hollywood. He has the lean build of a serious athlete, with the dark eyes, sensual mouth, and strong features of a runway model. To see him fumbling for words, apparently for the likes of me, was a little mind boggling.
“Jack?”
He laughed, and rolled his eyes at himself. “Right. I was wondering if you’re going to the fundraiser for Nancy’s animals tomorrow night.”
“I was planning on it.”
“Do you have a date?”
Things got quieter between us suddenly, as though the world itself had paused to listen for my answer. I bit my lip. We’d been dancing around this for how long now? Something told me that my response to this question was important. Whatever I said, it would change things.
“Not yet,” I said.
His eyes flashed to the ground a moment, then found me again. “Would you like one?”
“Jack—” I began.
He shook his head. “Don’t. Just say yes—just this once. Don’t overthink it. Don’t panic. Just go out with me, one time.”
I took a deep breath. I was thirty-four years old. I should be able to make a date without hyperventilating. He took a step closer, a half smile on his lips now.
“Be brave, Jamie.”
That earned an eye roll from me. “So, by that logic, I’m a coward if I don’t go out with you?”
He shrugged. “If the shoe fits.”
Somewhere in the back of my mind, I heard Brock again. You’re too afraid to take what you want. Every time you get close to it, you run like a beaten dog.
I pushed the voice away. Eventually, I would need to tell Jack the whole story—everything that had happened on the night Brock Campbell died. Everything I had done.
Not now, though. Not yet.
“Fine,” I said. “I’ll go out with you.”
His half smile widened to a grin. “Good. I’ll pick you up at the landing—say six o’clock? I thought we could go out to dinner first.”
Dinner and a fundraiser—both of them very public. Right out there in the world. I pushed away any remaining misgivings, and nodded. “I can do that.”
“Hey, are you ready to go?” Bear called, from just down the path. It wasn’t like Jack and I had even been doing anything, but we still sprang apart like teens caught necking in the woodshed.
Phantom and Reaver came racing along to greet him, the two of them still grinning doggedly. Casper and Reaver hadn’t hit it off so far, and I held my breath to see how they would do now. It wasn’t like there had been an actual fight, but there had definitely been some posturing.
Reaver paid no attention to the younger pit bull now, though. Bear greeted the dogs with enthusiasm, pointedly ignoring whatever had or had not been going on between Jack and me.
“The boat’s ready?” I asked.
“Boat’s ready,” he confirmed, squatting low while the three dogs circled around him.
“All right. Let’s head out.”
Bear strode on ahead with the dogs, while Jack and I lingered behind. No talking, no touching. Still, it felt more charged than it had before. I really wasn’t sure I was ready for this, at all.
Chapter 28
THE BOAT RIDE BACK WAS rockier than Jack liked, as the last of the hurricane that had done so much damage along the Eastern seaboard slowly wore itself to the ground. No one else seemed to notice the swells or the darkening sky; Jack could think of little else. Jamie piloted the boat, Reaver beside her while Bear remained with the Newfoundland destined for Hank’s place. While Bear wasn’t overtly hostile, he did seem to make extra effort to avoid actually interacting with Jack in any meaningful way now.
Once they reached the blessed mainland, they all would have gone their separate ways if Jack hadn’t spoken up as Bear was unloading Cody.
“So, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow,” Jamie said at the dock, looking all too aware of her son’s presence.
“Actually, I was hoping I could do a ride-along,” Jack said.
Jamie’s surprise was clear, as was her discomfort as she tried to find a tactful way to tell him he wasn’t welcome.
“Not with you,” he said, letting her off the hook. “I’d actually like to ride with Bear, if that’s all right. I’d love to see what it looks like when one of the dogs finds their forever home.”
Bear frowned. “You can see that kind of thing on YouTube whenever you want—there are a million videos of people adopting a dog.”
“It’s not the same as being there,” Jack argued.
“I actually have some other errands to do,” the boy said. Jamie stood to the side, watching wordlessly as the two negotiated.
“You can just drop me at the landing when we’re done. Or I can come with you, give you a hand.”
Bear looked pointedly at his mother, but she shook her head. “Oh no—leave me out of it. You’re eighteen years old. If you don’t want someone’s company, tell them that.”
“Fine. I don’t want—” Bear began, but Jamie cut him off.
“However, I don’t think it would be that horrible to just take him along, just this once. He’s not that bad.”
“And he’s standin
g right here,” Jack added.
Bear didn’t acknowledge that, still glowering at his mother. “Fine. Whatever. Come on, then.”
As soon as Bear was striding toward his truck, Jamie looked at Jack with a question in her eyes. “What are you doing?”
“Don’t worry. I have a plan.”
“Oh, good. That always ends well.”
“Hey!” Bear shouted back at them. Cody was tugging at the leash, wriggling excitedly now that they were on solid ground again. “If you’re coming, come on.”
“We’ll be fine,” Jack assured her.
Famous last words.
#
“Listen,” Jack said, as soon as he and Bear were on the road. It was a short ride to Hank’s from the landing, and he wanted the chance to say his piece before it was too late.
“Is this the part where you tell me you plan to be part of my mother’s life, and you hope I’m on board?”
“Uh—no. Why? Have you heard that speech before?”
Bear laughed shortly, his attention fixed on the road ahead. Rain had started, whipping at the windshield in bursts while the wind buffeted the truck enough for it to shimmy toward the center line. “I’ve gotten it more times than I can count. Of course, most of the time the guy got way, way ahead of himself, and my mom kicked him to the curb before he got through the front door.”
Jack tucked this nugget of information away to consider later. “Oh. Well… I don’t really know what the future holds for your mom and me, but that’s not something you need me talking to you about. She’s an amazing woman; I’m glad she hasn’t kicked me to the curb yet.” He paused. “And I would never hurt her—it’s important that you know that.”
“I do. You’re not an idiot. You do anything to her, and you must know by now that Monty and I would kick your ass across the county.”
“I figured.”
They traveled for another few seconds of silence before Bear glanced at Jack curiously. “So?” he prompted. “If that wasn’t what you wanted to talk about, what was it?”