Woof at the Door

by Laura Morrigan

  I laughed even though what she said wasn’t funny. It was preposterous. Even though Jake had blamed Kai’s lack of focus on me, I still didn’t buy it. Normally, I distracted a man no longer than it took him to drag his eyes from my C-cups. The idea that I could manipulate Kai with a few well-timed giggles and a tight shirt was ridiculous.

  “Emma, you can’t really think he’s dumb enough to fall for something that base and contrived.”

  “Would it be contrived?” Emma asked.

  I looked from my sister to Wes and back. “What? You think I like him?”

  “I know you like him.”

  “Don’t pretend, sweetie. Not with us.”

  I had to admit, I liked him a little bit. “I feel bad for him. He’s dealing with some pressure.”

  “Some!” Wes scoffed. “Are you kidding? The governor’s son has been murdered. A fellow Jaguar player is a suspect. Turn on the news and it’s all you hear. By tomorrow, the press will have spun it eight different ways. If they arrest LaBryce and then have to release him with no alternative suspect, the cops will look like idiots.”

  I hadn’t thought of that.

  We eased to a stop in front of the condo. I knew, although it was almost midnight, the night was still young for the martini twins. So I hauled myself out of the limo and walked toward the condo alone.

  Blissfully alone. I let my mind drift along with the quiet ocean breeze as I climbed the stairs. If I hadn’t been so tired, I’d have been tempted to take a moonlit stroll along the shore. Let the rumbling murmur of the sea scour my mind and soothe my soul.

  “‘I must go down to the seas again, for the call of the running tide . . . is a wild call and a clear call that may not be denied.’” I recited the words of a poem memorized so long ago for an English class I could hardly believe I remembered any of it.

  The line was fitting, though. I’d lived near the ocean as long as I could remember. Leaving the beach, its salty air, and sandy soil may very well give me sea fever. For a moment, I thought about staying awhile longer with Emma, until I’d saved enough to pay the inflated price of a house on the beach. The idea had almost taken hold when I reached the door.

  Three sticky notes were affixed to it.

  Moss must have farted too loud.

  With a sigh, I stripped the notes off the door. “The country life it is.”

  I opened the door and the dogs trotted into the foyer to greet me. Moss recognized the jaguar’s scent and began busily sniffing my toes.

  Charm! He was expressing overwhelming excitement over eau de jaguare, and I was bombarded with his memories.

  I squinted and tried to block out the zooming slide show. “Yes, I saw Charm.”

  Jax was sniffing my legs and also seemed to recognize the scent. Though he wasn’t as excited as Moss. I figured Jax had been around LaBryce enough times to remember it.

  Shivering in the crisp air-conditioning, I padded barefoot through the condo and into the bathroom. Moss’s nose was still glued to my leg. I peeled off the dress and tossed it out of the room.

  “There, go nuts.” He loped after it and continued sniffing. I took a quick, steaming shower to banish the chill and rinse the grime off my hands and feet.

  When I stepped out and wrapped myself in a thick towel, Moss still had his nose buried in the dress. Jax had taken up his position at the door and watched as I squeezed the water from my hair with a smaller towel. I combed it out—thanks to Emma’s selection of fine hair-care products, it was a fairly easy chore. By the time I started pulling on my pajamas, Jax had reclined all the way to the floor, his eyes half-closed, his head resting calmly on the cool marble.

  I wondered if he might dream of the murder again tonight. I hoped vehemently that he wouldn’t, then chastised myself for such a selfish thought. If Jax did have a dream that detailed the murder—guess that would be a nightmare, really—it was my duty to watch and take in every detail I could.

  No, I didn’t want to see Mark Richardson get shot. But if I saw the whole thing, in all its horrible goriness, maybe something . . .

  I had a sudden thought and realized I’d been going about this all wrong. I had told Kai to act as if the information I gave him was from an anonymous tip. What if I could do exactly that? Call the hotline and give the cops the identity of the real killer?

  I looked at Jax, who now slept peacefully across the doorway. If I saw the murder through Jax’s memory, I could tell the cops but never reveal myself. Even if they didn’t totally believe me, they’d have to look into it, right?

  I had been to the crime scene. I had details in my head already; surely we could come up with something.

  Easing over to Jax, I bent and stroked a hand down his smooth body. He blinked up at me, but I pressed his mind to relax. He did, letting out a long sigh. After a minute, I carefully planted the seed of what I hoped would stir his memory.

  Flipping off the light, I crawled into bed. Moss’s mind was still occupied with thoughts of Charm. The last thing I remembered before falling asleep was the garbled image of a young jaguar.

  My dreams were anything but what I’d expected.

  CHAPTER 8

  The next morning, I stumbled groggily toward the kitchen. It was early. Not even six yet. Normally, I was still drooling on my pillow at this time of the morning, but I needed to think. I needed a plan. I needed coffee.

  I attempted to blink away the grit that seemed to coat the insides of my eyelids and focus on the blur that was my sister.

  Emma was perched at the dining room table, wearing her usual martial arts Gi and sipping what I knew to be a cup of green tea. She looked up at me and beamed. “Good morning, Sunshine!”

  I shot her a baleful glare. How my sister managed to be chipper and fresh after staying out half the night drinking martinis I would never know.

  Still smiling, Emma got up and followed me into the kitchen. “The kettle is still hot if you want some tea. I also made coffee.”

  “Bless you.” Sighing gratefully, I managed to offer her a feeble smile before pouring myself a cup of coffee. I took a moment to breathe in the wonderful scent carried out of the mug on spiraling waves of steam. I felt my brain waves begin to awaken. Synapses stirred.

  “I take it you didn’t sleep well?”

  “I don’t think I slept at all.” I yawned, dumping an unhealthy amount of cream and sugar into my mug. I took the first sip. Good and strong. Thank you, Emma.

  “Want to tell me about it?”

  I took another sip of the steaming coffee. I had woken up during the night a dozen times. Thanks to the dogs, my head had been filled with a tsunami of memories and thoughts that weren’t mine. And some that I was afraid were—like the dream I had about Kai. I felt a flutter of embarrassment and pushed those thoughts away.

  There had been other flashes. Images I hadn’t completely worked through yet and didn’t understand, but nothing at all about the murder.

  I rubbed a hand over my tired eyes, “Weird dreams and disturbing thoughts.”

  “Did these thoughts concern Kai?”

  I nodded. “I have no idea what I’m going to say to him.”

  “Yes, you do.”

  “Don’t start this again.” Frustrated, I clunked my mug down on the counter, sending coffee sloshing onto my hand. “If I tell him the truth, he’ll think I’m nuts.”

  “You should have figured out how to reveal your gift to people a long time ago.” Emma handed me a paper towel. “Then you wouldn’t be in this position, all stressed out about what to do.”

  “You’re saying that this is my fault?” I wiped my hand and tossed the paper towel on the counter. It had always been so easy for Emma. People loved her. If she claimed to be Elvis reincarnated, they would still love her.

  “I’m saying you should have the courage to acce
pt yourself for who you are.”

  “Courage? Accept—” I sputtered the words like a five-year-old.

  “You’re special, Grace.” Emma poured out the rest of her tea and set the cup in the sink. “You need to accept that. Be honest. With everyone. I’m not just talking about Kai. I’m talking about the people you work with at the zoo, and at the Humane Society. I’m talking about your clients. Have you ever considered that you’re being selfish?”

  “Selfish? I bend over backward for animals that need me. I get up in the middle of the night to find missing parakeets!”

  “But you never tell anyone how you manage to do it. Have you ever thought that there are people that love animals just as much as you who feel terrible and foolish because they failed to understand why their dog suddenly won’t walk on a leash, or professionals who doubt themselves because they aren’t as good as you? You waltz into their lives and, voilà, problem solved.”

  “So, I should subject myself to ridicule to make people feel better?”

  “Ridicule . . .” Emma said the word slowly, like it was foreign. “You, dear Sister, are not afraid of being laughed at.”

  “It’s easy to say when you’ve never been laughed at.”

  Emma smiled. But it wasn’t a good smile, or even her wicked, Emma grin. It was a smile filled with pity. “I know it’s safer to never let anyone get close, but you’re going to have to someday.”

  I felt my temper reach its flashpoint. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

  Emma crossed her arms and tilted her head, the way she’d always done when ready to cut to the quick. “What are you really afraid of, Grace? If you tell Kai the truth, are you afraid he won’t believe you, or more afraid that he will?”

  “What?”

  I watched as Emma turned and walked toward the front door. “Think about it. I’ll meet you down in the dojo in fifteen minutes. There’s a Gi in the bathroom for you.” She glanced over her shoulder at me. “You can work some of that anger out on the mat.”

  • • •

  Thirty minutes later, I lay sprawled on the padded training mat, glaring up at my sister. “Tell me again—” I gasped, attempting to suck air back into my lungs. “Why am I doing this?”

  “Because you promised you would. And it’s a great way to get your mind off all this stuff with Kai and Jax and LaBryce. In chaos there is clarity.”

  “What?”

  Emma bent down to grab my hand and hoisted me back onto my feet. “If you don’t worry about what you’re going to do, maybe you’ll figure out you already know.”

  I half expected her to tag a Grasshoppa on the end of the sentence.

  “Do you always get all Zen when you come down here?” Emma had turned part of her garage area into her personal dojo. It was decked out with a wall of wooden staffs and practice swords called shinai. Which, I had been told, were made with split bamboo so 911 was not called when you struck your opponent on the head. A shrine on the wall to the right of the training mat was decorated with a real sword and a picture of an old Japanese guy Emma called O Sensei. On the far side of the mat, she had placed an array of boxing gym–type equipment.

  Emma patted me as I caught my breath. “Being Zen is kind of the point, Sister.”

  “I thought it was learning to kick ass.”

  “That, too. Now, almost ninety percent of attacks on women come from behind. So, turn around, and this time, I’ll attack you. Just try to move like I showed you.”

  I turned my back. “When? While you were planting me into the floor?”

  “Exactly. Okay, remember to use my momentum—”

  Emma hurled herself forward and made to grab me around the neck. I took hold of her arm and tried to imitate the movement I’d seen her do. To my amazement, I felt her slide past me.

  Emma stumbled then turned, grinning. “That was better. Last time you couldn’t even get your feet in the right position. Try again, and put your hips into the movement.”

  I turned around and Emma launched her attack.

  We continued practicing until finally, with almost no effort, I slammed my sister onto the mat.

  Stunned, I stared down at Emma. “I did it!”

  “Yes, you did.” She smiled up at me proudly and hopped to her feet in a move straight out of the last Charlie’s Angels movie.

  “You’re really amazing, Em.”

  Emma beamed and brushed a feathering of stray hairs away from her face. “If I had a dollar for every time I heard that.”

  “I mean it.” I felt all my lingering anger melt away. I thought about the reason Emma had trained in self-defense and martial arts for the past six years. I thought about Jennifer Weston and the bruises on her arms.

  “I think Mark Richardson’s ex is being abused.”

  Emma’s smile flickered, then died. I told her about my meeting with Jennifer in the bathroom. And about the way she tried to brush me off when I saw the marks on her arms.

  “Do you think she killed him?”

  “I don’t know. If she did, it would be self-defense, right?”

  “Grace, that’s not for you to decide. If Jax remembers the murderer was Jennifer, you have to tell the police.”

  I shook my head. “I think about you and that bastard Anthony.” I gritted my teeth at the thought of the man who had almost beaten my sister to death. I could still remember walking into the hospital and seeing her lying like a battered doll in that bed.

  “If it hadn’t been for Anthony, I wouldn’t be who I am.” Emma forced a smile. “I’m stronger and wiser. Not to mention a hell of a lot richer.”

  The details of my sister’s divorce from real estate mogul Anthony Ortega had been kept low profile. In return, Emma had gotten a huge settlement.

  “No price is high enough for what he did to you.”

  “On the contrary, I got everything I wanted. My life,” Emma said lightly.

  I could feel anger boiling up again. “He’s lucky I didn’t have Moss back then. He would have made a great snack.”

  Emma laughed. “Look who’s getting all fired up again. Come on, let’s go take that aggression out on the heavy bag.”

  I followed her to the other side of the dojo. Thinking about Anthony Ortega had pissed me off. I marveled at how well my sister always handled the subject. Leave it to Emma to find the positive in every situation.

  Emma handed me a pair of boxing gloves. “Now just do what I do. Picture Anthony’s face right here in the center of the bag . . . and go to town.”

  • • •

  An hour later, I stood on the beach with the dogs, watching the rhythmic flow of the Atlantic. Emma had been right. Working out with her had given me more than just sore muscles. I had come to a decision.

  I can count my close friends, human ones anyway, on one hand. I had to help LaBryce. But that did not involve telling Kai the truth. At least not the “I’m an animal empath” part of the truth—I wasn’t ready for that. As Emma had suggested, I planned to get Kai alone and see if I could work some magic. I only had a few minutes before I had to head in and go to LaBryce’s to meet him. Apprehension flooded through me.

  What are you really afraid of? Are you afraid Kai won’t believe you—or that he will? My sister’s words bounced though my head.

  So, what was the answer? It was true that I had been hurt before. The first man I had ever fallen for had rejected me because of my abilities. I hadn’t fully realized until today just how much I had been hiding behind that one incident. In reality, that wasn’t why I never opened up to anyone. It had been at first. But I’d gotten over Dane Harrington years ago.

  I thought about Hugh Murray, the zoo vet. Emma was right, I hadn’t ever given him a chance. Why? What did I really dislike about Hugh? That he had hung all over some girl after I had made it clea
r I would never go out with him? That he was hunky and rugged and knew it? Take away the idea that he might just pick up on my telepathic ability if he were around Moss and me for any amount of time, and I had to say, there wasn’t much about him not to like.

  I had used my experience with Dane as an excuse for a long time. A sort of litmus test to show how rotten people could be.

  I breathed in the warm, salt-laced air and sighed slowly, turning away from the rolling waves.

  If I was honest with myself, I had to admit, deep down, I wasn’t really afraid of rejection. I was afraid of acceptance, and all the vulnerability that came with it.

  I didn’t like the realization that I was being a coward. Cowardice was pretty high on my list of things I did not want to be afflicted with. Right up there with the stomach flu and thong underwear.

  As the dogs and I made our way back from our romp on the beach, I had to wonder: What if I told Kai the whole truth and he believed me? The door I had kept locked would be wide open then. I would have nothing to hide behind. No reason to play Ice Queen and push him away.

  Thinking about it made me feel queasy.

  Moss, who had been watching me with a mixture of concern and protectiveness, nudged under my hand. Sick?

  “I’m okay, big boy.” I gave his head a reassuring pat.

  He whined softly, unconvinced.

  I knelt down and looked into his eyes. Not doggie eyes. Moss’s were the almond, black-rimmed gold of his mother’s. I’d seen his gaze transform burly men into blubbering boys. Many who’ve looked at Moss see a rapacious beast. I only see my friend.

  I wrapped my arms around his thick, furry neck. His coat smelled like a mixture of sand, sea, and the earthy, wild scent of wolf. I breathed in deeply. And felt my anxiety melting away. Not wanting to be left out, Jax nudged under my other arm.

  Laughing, I wrapped it over his back. I could feel his contentment—he was relaxed and happy.

  I turned and focused my attention on Jax.

  Maybe if I tried, he would open up.