“You have no idea.” The fact that Bungee had not appeared yet was another sign that things weren’t right. The large ginger cat was generally laid-back, but he hated dogs. Tiny’s presence was usually his cue to leap onto the porch in full-on hissing and spitting mode, ready to chase away the intruder.
When Leon knocked again and there was still no answer, Flora tried peering through the glass. Since there was a lace drape on the other side, it was impossible to see anything. “Maybe we should try the door? It may not be locked.”
After a brief hesitation—What if Joy is sitting inside watching TV and she tells me to get the hell out of her house?—Leon tried the handle. When the door opened, his heart sank even further. He entered the cool interior with Flora at his heels.
“It should have been locked.”
Tiny pushed past them, through the neat sitting room and into the kitchen. His single bark held a note of anguish that sent a trickle of ice-cold dread down Leon’s spine. Before he stepped foot over the threshold, he already knew whatever he found in the next room wasn’t going to be good.
Sure enough, Joy lay on the tiled floor of the small room. As they approached, Tiny lay down, placing his head on his front paws and flattening his ears. Leon didn’t need to check her vital signs to know their friend was dead.
He was a doctor. Seeing bodies was a sad part of his routine, but he experienced a moment of deeper sorrow as well as shock as he looked down at the woman he’d liked and considered one of his few friends. Heartbreak had been his constant companion for the last four years. He knew all the forms it could take, knew its viciousness and twists and turns. Just when he thought it had no more surprises for him, pain delighted in finding new ways to sucker punch him. Like now. What he felt when he looked at Joy was nothing in comparison to what he had experienced when his wife, Karen, had died. Didn’t even scratch the surface. No, what astonished him was that he was still able to feel fresh grief after he had been turned inside out by it for so long.
A widow in her early sixties, Joy Valeski had to be one of the most popular people in Stillwater. She could be counted on to provide a hot meal in an emergency and a bunch of flowers in times of sickness. If there was a problem, Joy would be there with her sleeves rolled up, digging gardens, raking leaves, collecting newspapers, and providing home-cooked meals. Now, all that goodwill was gone and Leon wasn’t the only one who would miss her.
As he squatted close to the body without touching it, it was obvious that his medical expertise would not be required to determine the cause of death. It was immediately and horribly apparent. Joy had been repeatedly stabbed in the neck.
He clenched his teeth together hard, riding the twin emotions of shock and anger. When he spoke, his voice was tight with suppressed emotion. “The medical examiner will c-c—” his stutter hit hard, and he had to force the word out “—confirm the exact cause of death, but the wound on her neck looks particularly deep.” He drew Flora’s attention to a gaping injury on the right side of her neck. A deep crimson puddle surrounded Joy’s upper body, and the sweet, sickly tang of blood filled his nostrils.
Flora placed a shaking hand on his shoulder, leaning closer to get a better look. As she studied the wounds to Joy’s neck, she was pale, but composed. “There’s bruising to the right side of her head, suggesting that the killer struck her with a blunt object, knocking her unconscious, probably before stabbing her.”
Leon nodded. “The lack of defensive injuries to her hands supports your theory that she wasn’t conscious when she was stabbed.”
Flora reached into her pocket, fumbling slightly as she withdrew her cell phone. “I’ll call the police.”
“I don’t think that will be necessary.” Leon nodded toward the open door. Tiny was scrambling to his feet, his tail wagging in greeting as a dark-haired woman entered the house. She was accompanied by a tall man. “They’re already here.”
Copyright © 2020 by Amanda Anders
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ISBN-13: 9781488064241
Colton Storm Warning
Copyright © 2020 by Harlequin Books S.A.
Special thanks and acknowledgment are given to Justine Davis for her contribution to The Coltons of Kansas miniseries.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
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Colton Storm Warning Page 24