How to Kennel a Killer

Home > Other > How to Kennel a Killer > Page 7
How to Kennel a Killer Page 7

by Cat Clayton


  Cuff hopped up on the bench and laid his head on my lap.

  “This is unbelievable. Has she been there this whole time? And why? Why didn’t she come home?” My eyes filled with tears. I hadn’t seen Stoney since the evening her and our parents argued when I was ten. She had run away and had been gone ever since. Fifteen years. A small part of me had always thought she didn’t love us enough to come home.

  “I don’t know,” he said. “From what we can gather from the location and several of the other girls, is... I don’t know how to say this. It’s human trafficking, Steels. Your sister and the others are victims of a huge operation. But these guys discovered we were onto them, and they took off before we got there. We found nine teen girls, two teen boys, and your sister.”

  I tried doing the math in my head. Stoney had to be thirty? Thirty-one? “Was she the only adult female?” I didn’t know a lot about human trafficking, but Stoney seemed too old, as sickening as it sounded.

  “Yes, so far as we can tell,” he said. “The swat team who assisted us seems to think Stoney, who may have been trafficked at some point, is now caretaking for the younger ones. She’s not saying much, but several of the other girls are, and from what we’ve learned from them, Stoney does all the cooking and cleaning. Also, it appears she is involved with the guy in charge.”

  I shivered at the thought.

  Is he bringing her back with him? Cuff’s thought prodded me.

  “Are you bringing her home?”

  “Soon.” Pop sighed. “She’s been through a lot, that much we know. She’s experienced years of trauma, abuse, and the doctors have already confirmed there were drugs in her system.” His voice cracked on this last part. I heard him sniff. My father was crying.

  We sat silent for a few seconds, and then, he continued.

  “It’s tearing me up inside, Steels. Seeing her like this. In this condition.”

  “I know, Pop. I understand.”

  “She’s seeing the hospital’s psychiatrist. But after she’s had a full checkup, I’m bringing her back with me. Probably tomorrow.”

  My lower jaw dropped and my vision blurred as disbelief settled in. I swiped away a tear. It’d been so many years. How am I supposed to react?

  This is good news, Chiquita. Right? Cuff glanced up at me.

  A barrage of emotions hit. Confusion, sadness, anger, fear. What would this do to Pop? The family dynamics? My pulse ticked up, anxiety rising.

  “Will you text or call when you’re coming home? I want to be available when you get back to town with her.”

  “Will do, Steels,” Pop said. “I’ll talk to you soon.”

  “Okay, love you.”

  “Love you, too. Bye.”

  I sat frozen, staring at the phone on my lap. The rest of the world moved around me in slow motion. Once I recovered from the shocking phone call, I took Cuff inside.

  When Gertie mentioned pancakes earlier, I thought she’d meant she was cooking. I’d misunderstood. I didn’t get the chance to tell her about Pop’s phone call before she pushed me back out the door.

  “But I wanted to grab the paper,” I said.

  “You don’t want to read it. Trust me,” she said. “Let’s go.”

  She grumbled about us having to take such a lengthy walk and how she’d waited so long, and now, her tiny starving body was eating itself.

  I figured the one-sided conversation didn’t require my replies.

  On Sundays after church, Orsack’s café hustled to get people in the door, fed, and back out the door. The only full-menu café in town, they were a popular spot. Today, Gertie took her sweet time. She cut her triple stack dripping with maple syrup, savoring each bite.

  “I don’t want to get all bloated and gassy from eating too fast,” she said, wearing a milk mustache. She set her glass down in front of her plate. “They’re gonna have to wait until I’m good and ready.”

  “They’re not rushing you, Gertie,” I said with more sarcasm than I’d intended.

  “Really?” she said, peering over her glasses, surveying the room. “Because Betty Orsack is giving me the stink-eye, and Wendy keeps coming over and asking if we need anything else. I’d bet money on it. They’re trying to rush us out of here.”

  “Your pancakes are getting cold.” Now that I thought about it, folks were paying us extra attention this morning. They tossed curious glances our way.

  Dressed in tan khaki skinny pants, a navy blazer, white shirt, and loafers, Daniel breezed through the front door.

  He slid into an empty chair at our table. “How’re you fine ladies this morning?” he asked in a breathy voice.

  I guessed he’d had a good evening. The plastered grin and twinkling eyes said it all.

  “Obviously, not as good as you. But I’m fine,” I said, smirking.

  Gertie set her fork down and wiped her mouth with a black cloth napkin. “I’m good except I had to inhale my food.” She rubbed her stomach. “It’s giving me a bellyache.”

  “Drama much?” I narrowed my eyes at her.

  Daniel glanced around the restaurant and cleared his throat. “Have you seen the front page of the paper today?” he asked.

  Gertie choked. A moment of dread flashed across her face.

  I patted her back and shook my head. “No, Gertie hogged it this morning. Why?” I took another bite of my deep dish apple pie.

  Some circumstances called for pie instead of a real meal. Having your sister return after fifteen years of being missing proved to be one of those times.

  Gertie flapped her hand in the air. “Who cares what the paper says. It’s stupid anyway. Let’s talk about why you’ve been moody and quiet since you took Cuff for a walk.”

  Daniel gave me a once over. “You wanna taco ‘bout it?” He snickered. “Get it? Taco?” He pointed to the lunch special written on a card on the table. Three beef tacos and tortilla soup only $4.99.

  Cuff popped his head out my bag, sitting on my lap. You will have to tell them eventually, Chiquita. Might as well get it over with.

  “Pop called while I took Cuff on a walk. They found Stoney.” I cringed at my aloof tone.

  “You’re shitting me!” Gertie knocked over her glass of milk onto her plate of pancakes. It flowed onto the table, soaking her placemat. “You nearly gave me a heart attack! Where is she? Is she okay?”

  Wendy rushed over and started sopping up the mess.

  “Oh, my,” Daniel said, putting his hand over his chest. “I can’t believe it!”

  “I know. Me either,” I said. “Sorry for the mess, Wendy.” I smiled up at her.

  “Don’t you worry about it,” she said and picked up Gertie’s plate. “Can I get you more pancakes, Mrs. Lamarr? Oh, and I saw you made the front page of the Pleasant Hills Banner. Your Dolly act was the bomb! I caught it on YouTube this morning.”

  Gertie’s eyes widened, and she pinched her lips closed.

  The front page? YouTube? Crap.

  “Well, it looks like y’all had a blast last night,” Wendy said, stifling a giggle. What can I get you, Daniel?” She wore her chocolate brown hair swept up into a messy high bun, the top sprouting in all directions.

  Daniel swiped open his cell phone. “Coffee for me, thanks.”

  “Well, I hadn’t finished. But I can’t eat another bite now,” Gertie said. “I heard the most wonderful news! My other granddaughter is coming home!”

  Oh, she’s good at deflection.

  Wendy gasped. “Stoney?” Her brown eyes widened in shock.

  “Did you know her?” I asked. Judging by her reaction, she had.

  She nodded. “Sorta. She was two years above me. But we all heard in school when she’d gone missing. Well, I guess congratulations are in order. It’s great she’s coming home. Any idea where she’s been all this time?”

  I shook my head. “We don’t have many details.” I didn’t want our business out on the streets. Besides, I still hadn’t told Gertie what I knew yet.

  “I’m happ
y for y’all,” Wendy said. “I’ll get this mess out of your way. Let me know when you’re ready for the check.” She bustled off toward the kitchen.

  Daniel clapped a hand over his mouth while watching something intently on his phone.

  “Please tell me you’re not watching Gertie’s performance last night.” I nudged Daniel’s arm.

  “Okay, I won’t tell you,” he said, biting his lower lip.

  I did a facepalm. “Is it bad?”

  “See for yourself,” Daniel said, shoving the phone into my hand.

  Cringing, I watched in horror. The title read, The Great Burning of Waxed Dolly in Pleasant Hills, TX! Someone had taken the shaky video with a cell phone. I recalled one of the young guys from Burger Palace saying he had recorded the incident.

  I shook my head, my mouth gaping.

  Is it that bad, Chiquita?

  Oh yeah, I thought.

  “Do I look skinny?” Gertie asked, leaning over. “Let me see.”

  I snatched the phone from her, hit pause, and closed the YouTube app. I handed the phone back to Daniel. “Looking skinny is the least of your worries.”

  Gertie grunted and crossed her arms over her chest. “I didn’t mean to melt the thing! The little Peacock twit pushed me!”

  I hushed her. “Calm down. Be happy Pop doesn’t do YouTube. And, with him being out of town, maybe he won’t see the newspaper.”

  “Forget about last night,” Gertie snapped at me. “Spill the news about your sister already.”

  I wished I could forget about last night, but I had a feeling we hadn’t heard the last about The Great Burning of Waxed Dolly. I sighed and pushed my half-eaten pie to the side. I leaned in closer to Gertie and Daniel, careful not to squish Cuff.

  Thanks for remembering me, Chiquita. You got any more bacon?

  I handed him the last slice from Gertie’s side plate and he gobbled it up.

  Wendy delivered Daniel’s coffee. I waited for her to walk away.

  “So, here’s what I know. Pop had some help from a team of police down in Houston. They located her in an apartment building with a bunch of teenagers, mostly female. As horrible as it sounds, Pop said she’s a victim of a human trafficking ring,” I said.

  Gertie’s mouth dropped, her eyes popping out of her head.

  Daniel let out another, Oh my.

  “I know very little about human trafficking, but I’m glad they found her alive. I hate to say it, but part of me thought maybe she was... dead,” Gertie said.

  I didn’t want to admit it, but I’d feared the same thing.

  I made sure nobody eavesdropped on our conversation. “I don’t know how to say this, but, she’s been...” Jeez, this was difficult to talk about. “They don’t know to what extent Stoney’s suffered or how much abuse she dealt with yet. Pop says she’s not speaking and is still being observed at the hospital.”

  Gertie’s light blue eyes clouded with tears, her lower lip quivering.

  Wendy brought the coffee carafe over and refilled our cups, lingering.

  “Thanks,” I said to her. Like most small-town folks, Wendy had a good heart, but she couldn’t keep a secret if she tried.

  Wendy shuffled off.

  “Bless her heart; she’s dying to know what we’re talking about,” Daniel said.

  “Well, it ain’t none of her business,” Gertie said.

  “You’re right. And, we’re gonna figure this out, Gertie. Don’t you worry,” I said.

  Daniel patted her gently on the shoulder. “Steely’s right.”

  Gertie forced a smile and took a sip of coffee, her hand trembling. “You're damn straight. We Lamarr girls are tough as nails. We can survive anything.”

  Lamarr girls were tough, but surviving this would be a very long road. I hoped for all our sakes; we made it through whatever lay ahead.

  DANIEL STROLLED WITH us back toward the shop. The three of us hadn’t stopped talking about Stoney. Cuff dodged in front of us on the sidewalk, not missing one lamppost, trashcan, or tree.

  Daniel brought up Petunia’s death and asked if we’d discovered anything new about the case. I told him about the drugs found in her coffee.

  “She’s the last person on the planet I would’ve thought who’d use drugs,” Daniel said.

  “Yeah. Me, too,” Gertie said.

  They are not the sharpest knives in the drawer, are they, Chiquita?

  I snickered at Cuff’s remark.

  “Guys, Petunia didn’t do drugs. Somebody drugged her. Poisoned to be exact. Jackson said the coffee cup found at the scene had high amounts of opioids in it.”

  “Who would want to poison Petunia?” Gertie asked.

  Hey, is that Jackson?” Daniel asked, pointing.

  I followed Daniel’s gaze. Across the street and two blocks down, Jackson stood with a tall blonde. Her shoulder-length hair billowed in the breeze. From this distance, I couldn’t identify her, but I knew I didn’t like how close they were. And then, she leaned in and hugged him.

  Oh. No. She. Didn’t.

  Chapter 8

  “Who is she?” Gertie asked, nudging me.

  “I have no idea.” My feathers ruffled.

  “Maybe she works for Pleasant Hills PD,” Daniel said.

  I shrugged, remembering the text message he’d received late last night when his demeanor shifted from good to bad.

  Jackson turned in our direction.

  “Crap. Pretend we didn’t see them. Come on.” I pulled the two of them in the shop's direction.

  I whistled for Cuff to follow.

  “Too late,” Daniel said. “He’s headed our way.”

  We hadn’t so much as unlocked the front door before Jackson arrived. A pained expression plagued his rugged, handsome face. I told Gertie and Daniel I’d meet them inside. Cuff hopped up onto the hay bale and sat down next to the jack-o'-lantern.

  “Hey,” Jackson said.

  I forced a smile, trying to resist the urge to interrogate him about the girl we’d seen him talking to.

  “Hey yourself.”

  Play it cool, Chiquita.

  I’m trying, I thought.

  “I need to talk to you about something,” Jackson said, glancing back.

  I noticed the blonde female he’d been speaking with getting into a small silver car. The car’s blinker flashed on, and she pulled out into the lane, heading in our direction.

  “Oh, ferfucksake,” he said, running a hand over his short black hair.

  The car slowed to a stop and the driver’s side window rolled down. I’d never seen her before. She was gorgeous with big blue eyes, tan skin, and full lips.

  “I’ll see you at your house at three o’clock,” she said and drove away.

  Jackson watched her for a second and slowly turned back toward me, frustration rolled off him in waves.

  Oh, heck no.

  Chiquita, ask before you assume.

  “Who is she?” I asked.

  Anger flashed in Jackson’s eyes. “That’s what I need to speak with you about. I received a text from her last night. I honestly thought I’d never hear from her again.” He took two steps closer and reached for my hand.

  I recoiled. “This is so not happening to me again. How can you do this to me? I thought you were different!” With my heart pounding in my chest, I whirled around and headed for the front door.

  “Steely! It’s not what you think,” Jackson said from behind.

  Chiquita, I think you are jumping to conclusions.

  With one hand on the door, I yanked it wide open and looked back at Jackson. “I think I know what I saw. I’m not stupid! Now, please leave. You obviously have somewhere to be. Let’s go, Cuff!”

  “Steely, wait,” Jackson said.

  I ignored him, scooted Cuff’s back-end inside the door with my shoe, and pulled the door shut behind us.

  “Why are you yelling at Bolivar?” Gertie asked, perched at the front counter. “Look at him. He’s so sad.”

  I glanced out the
glass door window. Jackson paced back and forth in front of the shop, his hands dug into the front pockets of his jeans. His arm muscles bulged under the sleeves of his gray T-shirt.

  I locked the front door and plopped down on a chair in the lobby.

  “Bolivar is cheating on me!” I fumed. We hadn’t slept together, and we hadn’t established a permanent relationship status, but I still considered him seeing someone else as unfaithful.

  “Did he actually say those words?” Daniel asked, folding his arms over his chest, eyeing me.

  “Well, not exactly. But you both know what I’ve been through with Nick. And what’s worse, Jackson knows what I’ve been through!” A full-fledged tantrum bubbled up from the pit of my stomach. “Oh gosh, this is so embarrassing.” My breathing hitched in my chest. I dug around in my sling bag for my inhaler. I shook it, took two preventative puffs, and tossed the cartridge back in my purse.

  Drama much?

  I narrowed my eyes at my pup. Watch it, little buddy.

  Okay, okay. Cuff went to the door leading upstairs and barked. Virgil, good buddy, I am coming up!

  “Steely Lamarr,” Gertie said. “What exactly did Bolivar say?”

  “Not much.” I left out the part where I’d cut him off, told him to leave, and stomped inside. There are those moments in life where I haven’t been proud of my behavior. Two minutes ago, was one of those times. “According to her, they’re meeting at his house at three.” I leaned back in the chair, resting my head on the wall behind me. Ugh... why me?

  “I bet there’s a perfectly good explanation,” Gertie said. “And, I’ll also wager you didn’t give him the opportunity. Did you?”

  I closed my eyes. “No.”

  “Exactly what I thought. We Lamarr girls are tough as nails, but we’re also stubborn as mules. Now, get your shit together, because, if she’s meeting him at three o’clock, so are we. And, before you even say anything, here’s your quarter.” She hopped down from the stool, tossed a quarter in the swear jar, and waddled up the stairs.

  “Can I come?” Daniel asked.

  “Might as well, the more the merrier,” I said.

  AT 2:45 PM, GERTIE, Daniel, Cuff, and I loaded into my VW Bug and drove across town to the modest little house Jackson rented. I parked a block away on the side of the road. Should I confront him? What good would it do?

 

‹ Prev