by Amy Shojai
Shadow took much longer to recover than expected. September pretty much lived at Doc Eugene’s veterinary hospital for three weeks back in February and March, trying to get him well. He’d suffered frostbite during his trek home when the fickle weather switched back to freezing.
Doc Eugene said frostbite could take three months or longer just to see the extent of damage. Tissue that looked burned might heal, or could die and slough off. Infection and Shadow’s own worrying at the injuries delayed healing and had him in and out of the clinic for months. He’d lost only one toe on his left rear paw. His tail had been touch and go, but the fur had finally returned. One weepy painful area refused to heal, and September finally accepted the veterinarian’s advice to remove the tissue before it got worse. Shadow came through his final surgery two weeks ago and was back to himself.
His cheek and neck both sported jagged slashes of white fur, one that arrowed toward his bullet-notched ear. Mom allowed Shadow in her house, although she hated to admit he held the key to keeping her grounded and her PTSD at bay. More important in Mom’s eyes, Shadow had saved her grandson’s life more than once.
September had changed, too. Since the spa day treat from her mother when the stylist had sheared more than a foot off her dark mane she’d kept her hair shorter. She had to admit the style offered cooler comfort in the wicked Texas heat. Mom’s stylist had worked magic, evening out the ragged cut she’d needed to make to save her life, and hiding the bald patch that slowly shrank. However, September refused to color the white streak that grew from her temple. She’d had it since childhood, and now it mirrored the white mark near Shadow’s brow.
Today, she wore her new work hat, a gift from Combs. He’d had it custom-embroidered with the words Crappiocca Happens. September smiled every time she saw it. Mom was appalled, of course. That made it even better.
“Macy, guard the room and the house.” She smiled when he meowed back. “Yeah, you always want the last word. But sorry, you can’t come.” She and Shadow had their weekly date with Combs. The cowboy dive welcomed Shadow as her service dog. “Prejudice against cats, Macy. You should start a social media campaign.” She laughed again, and called Shadow to her side. They galloped down the stairs, and hurried out the door.
“Like our new car, Shadow?” She grinned when he woofed approval, and again stuck his black muzzle out the rear window of the SUV. It was such a relief when she’d finally got the new car. September checked to be sure that the childproof window lock remained engaged. Shadow never forgot a lesson, and he’d already figured out the windows rolled down like they did in the old car.
It had taken months for the insurance settlement on her house—the whole county had been filing claims, slowing the process even more. She’d just got the appraisals to fix the damage. The new car returned September’s freedom so she could escape her folks’ house whenever stress grew too great.
She pulled into the gravel parking lot and parked beneath the shade of a live oak. Nearby grass would give Shadow safe passage up to the restaurant’s entrance. In this weather, the sunbaked dirt could blister a dog’s footpads.
September gathered the paperwork in the passenger seat beside her. She wanted to discuss the house repair appraisal with Combs, but didn’t see his car in the lot. Sighing, she got out and opened the rear door for Shadow. They had a standing weekly date here at Hog Heaven, and other times as work allowed. Today, it was too late for lunch and early for dinner. That was the problem. Work trumped everything. Just when she’d opened up and stopped pushing Combs away, he’d become distant.
“Shadow, wait.” She pushed through the scarred barn door to check for people before inviting the big dog inside. Shadow didn’t wear any service dog vest, as it wasn’t required, but she preferred to avoid any questions. And she didn’t want to startle others when the impressive black shepherd walked inside.
September waited to be seated and returned the greeter’s smile. She and Shadow were escorted to their usual table at the far end of the bar. The whole staff knew and loved Shadow.
A new waitress approached with silverware and the menu. “I’m waiting for someone.” September waved away the menu. “Water bowl for Shadow, please. It’s three digits outside.”
“How ‘bout some barbecue short ribs, specialty of the house here at Hog Heaven. Sweet tea for you?”
She gulped, and wrinkled her nose, but didn’t explain. “Not a fan of barbecue. Unsweet tea, please.” Near sacrilege in the South, she knew, but her years in Chicago and South Bend had changed her taste, in many ways. “Oh, and please bring a second glass filled with ice.”
Once the drinks arrived, September added the ice to Shadow’s water. He drank, and then leaned against her leg before settling beneath the table.
She sipped tea and stared out the window, wondering what Combs would say. She’d thought her money worries were behind her, but now, “It is what it is. Right, Shadow?”
He thumped his tail against the swayback floor and then stood when Combs arrived. Shadow pressed hard against her leg again.
“How’re my favorite people?” Combs strode across the room, and leaned down to brush September’s lips with his own.
The feeling in her stomach made September smile. It had been so long since she could allow, and even welcome another’s touch. “I got the estimate from the contractor.” She gestured to the folder.
The spindle-back chair scraped against the wooden floor, and peanut hulls crunched beneath his boots as Combs took his seat. “Good news, I hope?” The waitress returned with another huge glass of iced tea, along with a basket of yeast rolls and honey-sweetened butter. “You want the usual?” She nodded, and he ordered for them both.
Without a word, September handed him the folder and waited. His brow furrowed as he read, flipping pages. He closed the file, and handed it back to her. “The insurance won’t cover the replacement cost. I’m not surprised. The house was old.” He sighed. “I’m sorry.” He reached out and took her hand. “But my offer still stands—”
She cut him off. “We’ve been over this. I can’t move in with you.” She pulled her hand away, dropping it to caress Shadow’s soft ruff. “I love you, but I can’t rush this. Please understand.”
His jaw clenched, but Combs held his tongue. Better than anyone, he knew her past, knew her inner demons and the damage that still reared its ugly head. She needed healing on the inside, too. Besides, with his ex-wife so sick, Combs had to think about his kids first.
“Most of my savings went into the renovation, and medical costs for Steven. It’ll cost that much and more to pull the house down and start over. And take months, if I decided to rebuild.”
“You willing to stay on with your Mom?” He cracked his knuckles, and gave a low whistle. “Good luck with that.”
She shrugged. “I’ll rent an apartment.”
“Shadow might want more room to stretch his legs. I have a backyard—”
“Stop! Just stop. I’ll rent a house. We’ll find a place that works for us, until I figure things out.” This time she reached across the table to take his hands. “Melinda and Willie need you now more than ever. You talked about getting full custody.”
“You love my kids!”
“Yes, I do. But they’re hurting right now. They’re losing their mom. They don’t need me butting into their lives.” His wife suffered from a devastating brain disorder similar to Alzheimer’s disease. Their stepfather’s focus was on his wife, and the kids needed their dad. She squeezed his hand. “This can’t be just about us. It has to be right for them, too.”
Real life sucked, but she had to be honest with him, and with herself. No matter how much she loved Combs, she couldn’t play mom to his kids, or wife to Combs until she could trust her own emotional health.
Their food came, but neither had much of an appetite. When his phone rang, Combs looked relieved. “I’ve got to go. Will catch up with you later.”
He didn’t kiss her goodbye.
Chapter
35
“The police are here.” Lia disconnected the 911 connection. She noticed three missed calls, four text messages and one voice mail, all from Grammy. Damn! Probably about the fund-raising gala tonight. Hosted by her grandparents and benefiting CASA (Court Appointed Special Advocates for children), Grammy supervised every detail, including Lia’s appearance. Grammy would have to wait.
Lia shifted from foot to foot, frustrated by the delay. It had been close to twenty minutes since she’d sent Karma after the runaway. “Here! Hey, over here!” She waved her arms to help them see her over the tall weeds, then hurried to meet the police. Her step faltered when she recognized one of the men.
Detective Jeff Combs raised one eyebrow, but otherwise didn’t react. He’d been the lead investigator back in February. She’d been too sick at the time and distracted over worry about losing her business to pay much attention to anything, including his striking looks. The detective’s tanned face, brown hair streaked with sun-kissed highlights, and athletic body wouldn’t be out of place on a beach. Heat rose to Lia’s face at the thought.
“You found the body? Trouble follows you around.” He motioned her to join him. “Let the techs do their job while you catch me up, Ms. Corazon. Can I call you Apikalia?”
“Just Lia, Detective Combs.” She walked beside him. He must be over six feet. She’d inherited Grandfather’s imposing height, but her head barely reached his chin.
“So call me Combs.” He stomped back the way they’d come, glancing around the scrubby field with its islands of native trees. “This property belongs to Corazons, correct?”
Lia nodded again. “There’s more than 4,000 acres.”
“How’d you happen to stumble across one body in 4,000 acres?” He didn’t look at her. “What’re you doing out here in the back of beyond?”
She pulled up short. “I’m training Karma. This is our test track.”
He turned to her, brown eyes laser bright. “How often do you train? And why this place?” Smile lines creased his cheeks, despite his current serious expression. “I take it this is the first body you’ve found.”
“And the last, I hope! You don’t think there’s more?” He didn’t answer, just waited for her to continue. “It’s a short hike from the barn and paddocks where we train. In this heat, everything feels like a trek. The house is a bit farther.” She shrugged. “There’s an access road a quarter mile that way, past the body. I don’t lay track on the same route every time. Got to mix it up for the dog. This is the first time I’ve been out here in a while. And yes, this is the first body.” Lia wasn’t training Karma to be a cadaver dog. Lia would much prefer finding the living.
“What’s a while? A week? A day?” That dark eyebrow quirked again.
“A week, maybe.” She couldn’t look away from the body. “What about the Hawaiian girl? She’s barefoot, and so young.” She fingered the tracking line she’d coiled and slung over her shoulder like a lariat. “Karma is with her, so at least she’s not alone. If they get too far, though, don’t know if my recall will work.” It hurt to admit that, but she needed to be honest. The dog already ignored Lia’s signal to come away from Mele, and that didn’t bode well. Besides, the whistle might not carry far in this wind.
“Karma? You had a kennel full of dogs, last time we spoke.”
An ache settled in her throat. The beat-up shepherd—a true warrior/protector—had come and gone quickly yet made a huge impact. Shadow appeared like a furry guardian angel, but Combs hadn’t seen him that night, only heard him. He’d focused on Derek, not on the dogs. “Karma is a Rottweiler pup.”
The smile lines deepened. “That the ankle-biter I heard about?” He retrieved a chocolate-colored kerchief that matched his eyes to mop his face and neck.
Sweat trickled down her back, too. Lia lifted the long ponytail that stuck to her skin, pulling it through the back of the gimme cap to keep it off her neck. “Could we continue this conversation in the shade?” She motioned to the nearby stand of burr oak.
He followed her to the drooping trees, ducking to get beneath the umbrella-like canopy. “Take me through what happened.” He pulled a digital recorder from his pocket and thumbed it on before he spoke into it. “Detective Jeff Combs. State your name, please.”
“Apikalia Corazon. Lia.” She leaned forward to talk into the device to be heard over gusting wind. “What about the girl?”
“Speak normally. And let us worry about the investigation, Lia.” He dabbed his brow again. “Take it from the top.”
Her shoulders tightened at his dismissal. Fine, be that way. The sooner she gave her statement, the quicker she’d get out of here, and could go after Karma herself. The dog wouldn’t let just anyone near Mele.
“This morning, Karma and I drilled for half an hour in the paddock. That’s up near the house. I can show you. She nailed it, so I decided to up her challenge here. I’d already laid a track, just in case.”
He scratched his nose with the recorder. “This was what time?”
“Paddock drills at eight this morning, before I fed Karma. Then I had chores to do.” Nothing like mucking out stalls in the heat to make you appreciate dogs even more. “Didn’t want to heat-stress her too much, so waited until late afternoon to run her here.”
“You set the track a week ago?”
“One of the tracks, yes. Dogs can still scent a week later, depending on the dog, terrain, and a bunch of other things.”
“No doubt. I know a dog like that.” He smiled.
She added, “I set the second track this morning, about sunrise around six-thirty before I started working Karma. It’s cooler that time of day.” She glanced at her phone when another text came in, then pocketed the device. “Karma nailed the first find in less than five minutes. My hat.” She tugged the brim. “I had a second track going west and up that rise, back toward the house.” She pointed. “Instead, Karma led me here and alerted on the body.” Lia felt goose bumps, but not from the cold. Furnace-hot wind had picked up even more, and rattled the spindly oak branches like bones in a barrel.
Both of his eyebrows climbed toward his hairline. “So you were out here twice today. See anyone either time?”
She shook her head. “But that doesn’t mean anything. I wasn’t anywhere near here. The dog’s toy is four hundred yards that way. It’s not like there’s a clear sight line, with all this overgrowth.” Her phone buzzed in her pocket. Mom expected her at the fundraiser a half hour before it started, so she had at least two hours. She had a good excuse to ditch the event, though she’d pay for it later.
“You touch the body? Disturb the surroundings in any way?” He paused, adding, “We need to exclude any trace you may have left behind.”
She swallowed hard. “All I saw was her hand, and stepped away. Karma was right next to her, though. I didn’t know if it was a man or woman until the girl referred to her as Vicki.”
He nodded. “Tell me about this other person. She’s on the run? A woman?”
“A child. She looks about twelve years old, Combs.” Lia couldn’t help the trembling in her voice. “I think she’s Hawaiian. At least, she said mahalo—I recognized that word anyway, and she told me her name. Mele. That’s Hawaiian, too. Her skimpy clothes won’t protect her in this weather.” She swiped her wet brow with one forearm. “I’d already called 911 when Karma found her. When I mentioned the police, she panicked, and ran off, barefooted.”
“Barefoot? She won’t get far.” He slapped at a mosquito. “That’s right, you’re part Hawaiian, too.”
Everyone knew about her heritage. Part of her deal with Grandfather was that she wouldn’t search for more information about her father. But two months ago, Lia sniffed out Kaylia’s death certificate, and confirmed her mother’s death coincided with her own birthday. Grandfather and Grammy didn’t come out and say it, but Lia knew they blamed her for Kaylia’s death. If Grandfather found out Lia had been looking, there’d be hell to pay.
They tried to make her ashame
d of her Hawaiian heritage. Now she’d found a Hawaiian child who talked about her skill to please men. Lia’s stomach churned.
“Combs, Mele knows who killed Vicki. She called him Boss. I think he’s her pimp.” The foul word even tasted bad. “She ran because he’d make her dead like Vicki. If she can identify this Boss person, she’s in real danger.”
“Bet she helped move the body,” he mused, looking around. “I don’t think Vicki died here. Girls like Mele do as they’re told.”
Lia hated his phrase, Girls like Mele. “It’s not her fault. She’s a child, for God’s sake! It’s time someone protected her.” The wind lifted her shirt from her sweaty back, but didn’t cool. It tasted dusty and bitter. A haze on the horizon spoke of distant fires.
He switched off the recorder. “Stay available. We’ll have more questions for you.” She started to argue, but he cut her off. “We’ll look for Mele, I promise. Show me where you found her, and then you can go.”
“It’s about time.” She muttered the words, but saw him hide a smile when he heard. Lia parted the slumping branches of the burr oaks and gave the technicians and Vicki’s sad corpse a wide berth.
Combs spoke quietly with the investigators before following her. They had turned Vicki’s slight body. The dead girl’s long hair spilled all around, clotted with leaves and dirt. Earrings sparkled in her delicate ears, dried vomitus spilled down her front, and her mouth glowed an odd deep purple color. Lia averted her eyes.
Her phone buzzed and again Lia ignored it. Grammy would be beside herself. “Combs, it’s just up this rise. See, Mele hid here, crouched down behind this cedar. And when she saw us—that is, me and Karma—she scrambled forward a few yards before she fell right here. Actually, Karma tripped her.” Karma never forgot a lesson.
The grass crunched beneath her tracking boots. It would be needle sharp on the child’s bare feet. “Karma platz—that is, she lay down—right there. For a pup, she’s very intuitive, and I guess wanted to be less threatening. It seemed to calm Mele, at least for a short time.” She waved and pointed. “The access road runs about another hundred yards that way.”