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Dogs Don't Lie

Page 5

by Lisa Shay


  “Thanks.” I took the picture and looked at two smiling men and their beaming new office manager. My heart almost lurched from my chest, my mouth dry. Leaning over the desk, I pointed to a man with tousled dark hair and a neat beard—the man Ariel had showed me being dragged through the backyard. I swallowed, trying to get my mouth working. “Is this Mr. Smith?” Pointing to the other man—older, slightly overweight, and balding—I asked, “And is this Mr. Johnson?” My tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth. “My dad will want to know.”

  “Oh, no, dear. You have them mixed up.” She pointed to the bearded man first and then the balding one. “That’s Mr. Johnson and that’s Mr. Smith.”

  “One more question. When was this photo taken?”

  “The day I started—April, two thousand seventeen. About a year and a half ago.”

  “Thank you. You’ve been very helpful.”

  “I’ll give Mr. Johnson your number.”

  My voice rose in pitch. “What?”

  She waved my business card in the air. “Your contact information? For your property?”

  “Oh, yes.” I nodded my head, grinning like an idiot. “Thank you.”

  As I raced down the steps, my phone vibrated and the ringtone echoed through the silent staircase. I fumbled with the buttons and finally got the blaring music to stop. “Hello? Mom? Can I call you back?”

  “This will just take a second, Kallie—faster if you’ll agree to meet me for lunch.”

  “Okay. Where?”

  “The country club. One o’clock. I’ll see you there. And wear a dress. You aren’t working or on call today.” She disconnected before I could protest.

  The low miserable groaning resonating against flat wooden walls came from me. “What have I done? The country club?” I looked at Mickey on my wrist smiling up at me, mocking me, the second hand ticking away with wild abandon—time slipping past. I had a couple hours, and, dress or not, I was headed to lunch at the country club with Mom.

  But first I needed to talk to Ben.

  In the quiet of my truck, I called him. It went directly to voice mail and I left a message to call me. With no further excuse, I headed home to find something precious to wear to lunch.

  Standing in front of the closet, I stared at the row of clothes on hangers, shoes and boots lining the floor, and tidy boxes on a top shelf. It wasn’t that I didn’t have anything to wear. Mom handled keeping my closet full … of her choices. Determined, I nodded. “You can do this. It’ll keep her happy for at least a week.” I selected a knee-length dark-green dress with long fitted sleeves. After scanning the floor, I grabbed a pair of high-heeled brown suede ankle boots. I ran a curling iron through my hair and brushed on a little mascara. “Good enough.”

  I tried not to turn an ankle walking outside. The squeal of the driver’s door reminded me it was probably time for a new truck. But … No reason to replace what still runs.

  I reached the key toward the ignition but then paused. If I left right then, I’d be too early. I tried Ben’s number again. Voicemail. I glanced at the dash clock—a little past noon. Biting at my lower lip, a frown formed. “Didn’t he say he would call me this morning? Hope everything’s okay.” I sat there with my thumbs tapping an irregular cadence on the steering wheel. Ideas swirled and landed on … “cupcakes.” On the way to the country club, I’d pass my favorite bakery. “A reward for going to lunch and wearing a dress.” Plan set, I backed out of the drive.

  With one each of chocolate, vanilla, and lemon stowed safely in a taped pink bakery box on the front seat of my truck, I opened the door to the country club’s restaurant. Smiling, my thrilled mom waved from a window table, and she wasn’t alone.

  “Kallie, you look lovely.”

  I stepped up to the table, glancing at two other people seated there. “Thanks, Mom.”

  Scooting his chair back, a young man stood and smiled at me.

  “Kallie, this is Jeffrey.” She gestured to the man who stood grinning at me. “And this is my good friend Olivia, Jeffrey’s mother.”

  Good friend? I’ve never seen or heard of her before.

  “Hi. Pleasure to meet you.” I nodded to Olivia and smiled back at Jeffrey.

  “I’ve heard nice things about you, Kallie. It’s good to meet you.” Jeffrey pulled a chair out for me.

  I tried to sit, leaning forward at the same time, coordinating Jeffrey’s efforts with my own. Somehow I managed to get close enough to the table despite his help. With that awkward operation out of the way, I shot a glare at Mom. “You didn’t tell me we’d have company.”

  “It was a last-minute date, dear. Olivia walked into the salon during my appointment this morning. We started up a conversation and realized we had a lot in common. She told me her son was visiting, and here we are.” She smiled and gestured around the room with a flourish.

  “Yes. Here we are,” I repeated. “How nice.”

  Setting her water glass down, Olivia looked at me. “Your mother tells us you’re a doctor, a veterinarian. That must be exciting.”

  “Yes, it is.”

  Mom patted my hand. The pat turned into a warning squeeze.

  Well, I couldn’t blame her. She had heard me in action a time or two, so I understood her concern, especially during lunch at a restaurant at the club. I assuaged Mom’s fear and kept my answer vague. “But most of the time it’s fairly routine.”

  A waiter appeared, handing out menus and filling water glasses.

  “Thank you, Patrick.” I smiled, knowing him from previous visits.

  “Could I start you off with something to drink?” He looked around the table.

  Mom, Olivia, and Jeffrey ordered iced tea.

  “Pepsi, please.” I watched him walk away and then buried my nose in the menu, searching until I found what I knew was already on the menu—my regular choice, a bacon cheeseburger and sweet-potato fries. I’m good.

  Patrick returned, set our drinks on the table, and then stood ready, pen and pad in hand.

  Placing her menu down, Mom looked up. “I’ll have the Caesar salad, please.”

  “Oh, that sounds good. Make that two, please.” Olivia set her menu on Mom’s.

  Nodding, Jeffrey laid his menu on the others. “Make that three, please.”

  Patrick pivoted in my direction, pen poised. “The regular, Dr. Collins?”

  Grinning, I plopped the menu on the table. “Yes. Thank you, Patrick.”

  Jeffrey removed his glasses and cleaned them on his white cloth napkin. He glanced over at me. “Let me see. Your regular is a hamburger. No. A cheeseburger. And onion rings?”

  “Close. Bacon cheeseburger and sweet-potato fries.” I frowned. “How’d you know?”

  “Just a lucky guess.” He cocked one eyebrow and tipped his head.

  I’m sure my skepticism still showed in my expression. “Sure.”

  Mom beamed at him. “Jeffrey teaches computer science at SOU. Isn’t that interesting?”

  Okay. She had my attention. “That’s great. But I thought you were visiting?”

  “I just got the job. I’ll be starting winter term. I’m here looking for a place to live.”

  “Well, good luck. It’s not exactly a buyer’s market right now.”

  “That’s what I hear.” He put his glasses on. “But I’m in no hurry. I may even decide to build. In the meantime, I could rent.”

  With his dark frames in place, I noticed his clear-blue eyes and how his light-brown hair was a little shaggy, with gold highlights.

  I know women who would pay big bucks for his natural color.

  Our meals came. We talked. It wasn’t such a bad lunch. But I had still earned my cupcakes.

  “Jeffrey, since Kallie’s work takes her all over the county, she knows the area well. Maybe she could help in your search.” Mom glanced at a nodding Olivia.
<
br />   “Oh, that’s a great idea.” Olivia looked at me. “Kallie, what do you think?”

  Sitting back, Jeffrey waved his hand. “No. I can’t impose. She has a challenging career that keeps her busy enough.” He glanced at me, his grin sheepish. “But maybe, if it didn’t take too long, we could meet for coffee and I could quiz you on areas?”

  “Um, sure. I could do that.”

  “Good.” Mom grabbed the check and dug her credit card from her wallet. “It’s settled, then.”

  Back in my truck, I checked my phone. Ben had sent a text.

  Kallie. Sorry I didn’t get back to you. Been in meetings. Hope you’re feeling better. I’ll talk to you later.

  The phone vibrated in my hand, and I answered before my ringtone started. “Hey, Gracie. What’s up?”

  “Sam and I are meeting later for dinner. My house. I’ll be home in a few minutes. She’s coming about seven. Want to come?”

  The thought of eating almost made me groan. “I just had a big lunch with Mom, but I’ll join you for the company.”

  “How’d that go?”

  “Actually, pretty good. I’m even wearing a dress.”

  Sam yelled in the background, Gracie’s phone obviously on speaker. “Oh, don’t change clothes. I wanna see you in a dress.”

  “Where are you?”

  “I stopped by the hospital with some books and then into the ER to invite Sam. We’re in the break room.”

  “Hi, Kallie,” Sam called. “Wear the dress.”

  “Fine, I’ll wear it. And I want to tell you about Jeffrey, Mom’s latest attempt to set me up.”

  “Jeffrey? What happened to Ben?”

  My phone buzzed. “Nothing. In fact, I gotta go. He’s calling me right now.”

  A chorused “ooooooo” came from the phone before I switched calls.

  “Hello, Ben.”

  “Well, you sound much better.”

  “I am. Thank you.”

  “I’m on a quick break. Just wanted to check in. Can I call you later this evening?”

  “Yes. I have some questions about Mr. Whedon. Also, I know who Ariel saw being dragged through the backyard. It’s Mr. Johnson from R and A Land Development. Thing is, he is alive, but—”

  “What? Where did you find … Kallie, you need to stop looking into this. If someone doesn’t appreciate your nosing around, it could be dangerous.”

  “Dangerous?”

  A distant voice echoed through my phone, as if the speaker was down a long hallway. “Ben, we’re starting again.”

  “I need to go. Don’t do anything else. I’ll talk to you tonight.” He clicked off.

  Staring at my phone, I hit the end button. “Fine. I wasn’t going to anyway.”

  I stopped by my house before meeting my friends. After carrying the pink box with the cupcakes inside, I set them on the counter. I moved down the hall and turned into the small guest bedroom that doubled as my office to check my messages and email. Back in my room, I pulled a book off my nightstand and my leather jacket from the closet.

  As I passed the kitchen on my way to the living room, I made a noble decision to take my treats and share them with my friends. Everyone needs a cupcake fix now and then. I glanced toward the counter and froze. My breath locked in my constricted chest. My pulse pounded in my ears. The once pretty pink box had a ten-inch butcher knife driven into it. A dent divided the thin cardboard top, and its sides bulged. Looking around and listening for the slightest sound, I tried to control a sudden case of the shakes.

  Ben’s words repeated in my mind. Kallie, you need to stop looking into this. If someone doesn’t appreciate your nosing around, it could be dangerous.

  Too late.

  “Breathe. Just breathe.” I took a tiny step in retreat and then another, listening for someone coming up behind me. The hair on the back of my neck stood up. My skin turned ice cold. I spun around. My head swiveled from right to left and back again, trying to see in all directions at once. I reached for my pack on the counter. Gasping for breath, my heart hammering, I ran out of the house and slammed the front door.

  I managed to open my truck and climb in. Fingers trembling, I fumbled the key into the ignition and shifted into reverse. My foot slipped off the clutch. Darn heels. The truck lurched backward and the motor died. “Come on. Come on.” I glanced at the house, imagining eyes watching me from the shadows. Heart hammering, I twisted the key. The engine took, and I backed onto the street.

  Visions of intruders, knives, and ruined cupcakes swirling in my mind, I drove on automatic pilot to the closest place I’d feel safe. I misjudged the curb at Gracie’s townhome and bounced into her driveway. After lurching to a stop, I turned the truck off and the engine whined into silence. I sat there catching my breath, willing my heartbeat to slow.

  Gracie tapped at my window, and I screamed. Not a squeal. Not a whimper. A scream.

  Matching me for pitch and intensity, Gracie threw her mail five feet in the air. “Kallie,” she yelled. “What is wrong with you?”

  Scrambling out, I grabbed Gracie’s arm and hung on to her. “Someone was in my house and stabbed my cupcakes.”

  Chapter 8

  At some point while trying to calm me down and get a straight story, Gracie dialed nine one one.

  A blue-and-white SUV, siren screaming and light bar flashing, raced up the driveway minutes after my less-than-composed arrival.

  Two officers hurried inside the open front door.

  Sitting next to me, Gracie waved them in with one hand and patted my shoulder with the other.

  A female officer nodded to her partner. “Take a look around.”

  “Oh. No. It wasn’t here.” I stood, watching as the second officer disappeared down the hall. “It was at my house. Someone broke in—”

  “Dr. Collins lives on Stoneybrook,” Gracie cut in. “She found, uh, things in her kitchen, um, not as she’d left them.”

  Maybe she was concerned I’d start rambling about stabbed cupcakes again. I took Gracie’s hand, my brow furrowing. “I’m okay now. Thanks.”

  The officer’s eyes narrowed. “Things in your kitchen?”

  Her partner joined us. “It’s all clear, Carter.”

  Officer Carter nodded at her partner.

  “But this isn’t where—Okay, let me explain.” I told them the whole story—how I’d walked in with a perfectly fine bakery box only to find it stabbed minutes later.

  “Did you leave your front door open?” Officer Carter glanced at Gracie’s wide-open door. “It might have been kids in the neighborhood.”

  Had I? I thought for a moment. “No, though it may not have been locked.”

  Officer Carter’s partner hooked his fingers in his belt. “I’ll call in the new location.” He looked at me.

  “Oh. Right.” I recited my address.

  “Could you come back to the scene with us?” Officer Carter turned her attention to Gracie. “Maybe your friend could drive you.”

  Gracie and I stared at each other and nodded. We moved to the door, both grabbing our bags.

  “Wait.” I stopped. “What about Sam?”

  “I’ll let her know what happened.” Gracie rummaged in her purse and pulled out a phone.

  “How about you call when we get back to”—Officer Carter glanced at me—“Dr. Collins’s place?”

  “Oh, sure.” Gracie dropped her phone back in the bag.

  Two blue-and-white police cars sat in front of my house with another in the driveway.

  We stayed in Gracie’s car parked on the street, waiting for the all-clear from the police.

  The rain finally came, running in rivulets down the windshield and tapping on the roof.

  I shivered but wasn’t sure if I was cold or still spooked. Maybe both.

  Gracie took the time to call Sam and
update her on the situation. “She’ll call before she comes to my house, to make sure we’re there.”

  A uniformed officer came to the car. “Your front door was locked, but the French doors leading to the patio weren’t. Whoever it was came through a gate in the fence back there. Glass was duct-taped and broken out on one of the panes. That’s how they entered.”

  Not sure what to say, I stammered out a weak, “Oh.”

  Gracie picked up the slack. “Can we come in?”

  “Sure. We have a few more questions. Maybe you could take a quick look—see if anything’s missing.” He opened the passenger side door.

  A siren sounded in the distance, coming closer.

  What now?

  An unmarked sedan whipped into my drive. Ben jumped out and raced into the house.

  “Ben?”

  “Where?” Gracie’s head pivoted, searching the area. She climbed from the car and turned to stare at me.

  “He just went in the house.”

  “Let’s go.” She came around the front of her car, grabbed my hand, and towed me past the officer and toward the door. She continued to tug until we both stood just inside the small entry.

  A uniformed officer photographed the bakery box on the counter, the butcher knife still protruding from the top.

  My shivers returned just looking at it.

  Two officers talked between the kitchen and living room, with two more checking the patio.

  One appeared, walking down the hall. “It’s all clear, Ben.”

  I hadn’t noticed him coming out of the laundry room.

  “Kallie.” He strode over. “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah. I’m fine. Just a little shook up.”

  “Hi.” Gracie stepped up beside me. “I’m Kallie’s friend. You must be the Ben we keep hearing about.”

  Heat burning my cheeks, I glared at her and whispered, “Stop.” Turning back to Ben, I introduced her. “This is my friend, Gracie.”

 

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