“You’re not just my nurse,” he said. “You’ve been leading me on.”
She lurched backward. “Excuse me?”
“Always flirting with me, touching my arm. You made me think it was more.”
Hastily shrugging on her coat, she said, “If I’ve given you the wrong impression, I’m sorry. I never meant for you to view this as anything but a professional relationship, Mr. Shah.”
“I could report you,” he said. “For flirting with patients.”
“When you’ve had time to think about this, I’m sure you’ll feel differently.”
He seemed to deflate, and he looked like what he was—a frail old man. “I should have just left the money at your house. But you weren’t there, and I wanted to see your face when you opened it.”
Pausing with her hand on the doorknob, Mim said, “You drove to my house?”
“On the way to the mall,” he said. “I was going to put it through the mail slot, anonymously.”
As she opened the door, a gust of wind blew money around the kitchen. “Thanks again for the kind intentions. And Merry Christmas.”
A silver tea set was on the table beside Elaine’s chair near the fireplace. She was wearing a red velvet jacket over a crisp white blouse. Pouring tea into two porcelain cups, she passed one to Mim. “I imagine you could use this,” she said.
Elaine had never offered tea before, but Mim accepted it gratefully now. “I could.”
They sipped in silence for a moment, and then Elaine took an envelope from the tray and handed it to Mim. Opening it, Mim found yet another check, this one for $5,000.
“Oh Elaine, I can’t,” she said. “The reward is high enough now. Any more spent on this dog would be wrong when there are so many people in need in Dorset Hills.”
“It isn’t for the dog.” As always, Elaine’s words were clipped and precise. “It’s for your son.”
Mim struggled to find words. Inside, gratitude and pride were fighting a fierce battle. “That’s beyond kind of you, Elaine. But I provide fine for Kyle.”
“I know that, and I admire you for it. In my day, a woman felt obliged to stay with a dishonorable man—at least, I did. Use the money for Kyle’s education.”
Setting her tea cup carefully on its saucer, Mim wiped her eyes. All this time, she’d worried that Elaine was judging her, and it was the opposite. She yanked tissues from the box Elaine offered and honked.
“You’ll take that check and say no more about it,” Elaine said. “Use it for Kyle, I don’t need to know the details. And before you say it, I cleared the gift with your agency.”
She waved away Mim’s thanks, as if too much emotion was as unladylike as the honking.
Mim took her time finishing her tea. She’d come with a plan, but it was harder to implement than she expected given Elaine’s generosity. “There’s something else…” she began.
Elaine said nothing, simply eyeing her over her teacup.
“Your son,” Mim continued. “I know he still has friends in Dorset Hills, and I was wondering…” She drifted off again.
“I told you to ask if you needed something. Get on with it.”
“Normally a missing dog makes the news in Dorset Hills,” Mim said. “But this time, it hasn’t and it’s been nearly a week. I’ve left a dozen messages at City Hall and no one’s even replied.”
Elaine raised one fine silver eyebrow. “People in this town get so silly about Christmas that they ignore real news. But Mim, are you sure you want to invite that kind of scrutiny? You seem like a private person.”
“Private isn’t getting my dog back, Elaine. Anyway, I’m tired of always caring what people think of me.”
“Fine, I’ll get Clement to take care of it. I have only one thing to ask in return.”
“What’s that?”
“For pity’s sake, get your hair done. You look like you’ve been through a tornado.”
Mim turned off the ignition and stayed in the car to call Ari.
“You’re going to be on TV?” Ari squealed.
“We’re going to be on TV,” Mim said. “The station has already called to set it up and they want you to be there. Elaine’s sending a stylist bright and early to do our hair and makeup. Looking good is half the battle, apparently.”
“When will it air?”
“By noon apparently, and on every newscast to New Year’s, if necessary.”
Phone in hand, Mim stepped out of the car and looked around. A light snow was falling, but there were no fresh footprints on the porch or the lawn. So far, so good.
Using her new key, she unlocked the door and stepped inside. Kyle had left all the lights on, which helped quell her nerves but he’d absconded with Jezebel again. Having Ari on the phone managed to take the edge off the sorrow that still washed over her at coming home to a dogless house.
After inspecting each room to see if anything appeared amiss, Mim finally followed Ari’s orders and poured herself a glass of wine. Then she sank into the old leather couch in the family room and started telling Ari about the ups and downs of her day. Ari wanted to go out immediately and put up new posters listing the amount of the new reward.
“It’s nearly nine,” Mim said, checking her watch. “By the time we got them printed and up, we’d be no better off than tomorrow morning, after the TV crew leaves.”
“I guess you’re right,” Ari said. “But I’m calling Miles to let him know about this Mr. Shah dropping by your house.”
“He’s off shift. I already tried.”
“I have his home number,” Ari said. “I spoke to him earlier.”
“Proposing further investigation, was he?” Mim asked, grinning.
“He had a few more questions and couldn’t reach you,” she replied.
“And when are you going out?”
Ari laughed. “Nothing’s set.”
“Well, I’m glad something good’s come out of all of this,” Mim said. Shivering, she got up to turn on the gas fireplace. That was when she saw the lights gleaming through the curtains. “What the—?”
“What’s wrong?” Ari asked.
“There are red and green lights out back.”
“Sounds like Carver’s getting festive,” Ari said.
“His floodlight’s out. And this looks much closer.”
She walked over to the window and pulled the curtains aside. On the lawn was a small circle of red and green solar lights. There was a dark blotch on the snow in the middle.
“Don’t go out alone,” Ari said. “I’ll come right over.”
But Mim was already in the kitchen, turning on the porch light to get a better look. “There’s something on the ground. I can’t make it out.”
“Mim, don’t—”
“I’ll take the phone.” She shoved her feet into Kyle’s big boots, grabbed the flashlight that was still on the counter, and stepped outside. After scanning the yard with the light to expose any intruders, she clomped down the steps. “The footprints are coming from the Mowats’ yard. Whoever it was came over their fence and left that way, too.”
“What about the lights?”
“Looks like some kind of shrine,” Mim said, crunching over the snow. When she reached it, she shone the light directly down.
Then she shrieked.
Chapter 16
“Mim! Mim, what happened?” Ari’s voice was distant because Mim had dropped the phone into the snow at her feet.
“Blood,” she said. “It’s blood.”
“Pick up the phone,” Ari yelled.
“Mim? You okay?” It was Carver’s voice. She looked up to see the top half of his body looming over the fence, backed by his floodlight. He appeared to be wearing a blue-and-white striped bathrobe. “I heard screaming.”
She pointed to the shrine at her feet. “Blood.”
He quickly swung one bare leg over the fence, a huge boot dangling from his foot. His hands snagged the robe as he brought the other leg over and he lost his balance.
The yell that started as he plummeted from the fence ended with a muffled grunt as he landed, face-first, in the snow.
Scrambling upright, he ran towards her, robe flapping open. Under it he was wearing… nothing.
He came to a stop in front of her, wiping snow from his face with his sleeve. When he noticed her staring, his eyes dropped. “Oops.” He yanked the robe closed. “Just got out of the shower.”
Mim directed the flashlight at the ground but the beam bounced around in her trembling hand. “Blood. I’m afraid it’s George’s.”
Carver took the flashlight from her and stooped for a closer look. Running his index finger through the red snow, he brought the sample to his nose. Then to his lips. “Ketchup,” he said. “Mixed with something else. Maybe cranberry juice.”
The tension seemed to leave Mim’s body all at once and her legs nearly gave out. Carver caught her around the waist with one arm and supported her. “Thanks,” she whispered, leaning into his chest. She took a few deep breaths. He smelled like crushed pine needles and a hint of spice. “What’s in the middle?”
“Hmmm?” Carver sounded distracted.
“On the ground… in the middle of the blood. Or ketchup or whatever.”
“I’ll get it. Can you stand?”
She nodded, although she didn’t want to let go of him. He moved away, keeping one hand on her shoulder. “I’m good,” she said.
“Steady now.” He let go and crouched again. This time, he took the edge of his robe and used it to grab the small box in the middle of the ring of lights. “In case there’s fingerprints,” he said. Standing, he displayed a small jewel box of blue velvet still clutched in his robe.
That wasn’t all he was displaying, but the cold breeze gave him the message before Mim needed to, and he dropped the flashlight to use his left hand to yank his robe closed.
“Open it,” she said.
He looked confused. “What?”
“The box, Carver. Open the box.”
He struggled for a few moments to get the jewel box open using only his right hand covered in the robe. Mim reached over to hold the other side of his robe in place, so he could use both hands.
Finally the lid snapped open to reveal a gold charm on a chain. She picked up the flashlight and aimed it at the gleaming charm. “George’s tooth,” she said, her voice quavering.
Carver laughed. “George has a big mouth, but not that big.”
She realized he was right, and leaned in for a closer looked. Carver angled the box and she could make out the words, “Love, George,” etched into the charm.
“This guy is trying to drive me insane,” she said. “That’s where this is going.”
“No, it’s not,” he said. “This is going inside, that’s all. You’re shaking.”
“Can you close your robe?”
“Can you stop looking?” he said. “And don’t judge. You’ve heard what they say about men and cold water, right? Imagine what happens with snow.”
Mim actually laughed. “I suppose there’s an anatomically correct snow angel beside my fence?”
“I won’t describe how that felt. A hero never complains.”
“Well, close your cape and come inside—before frostbite sets in.”
“Hello? Hello? Don’t leave me out here.”
They both looked down to see Mim’s phone sticking out of the snow near the circle of lights. Picking it up, she said, “Sorry, Ari.”
“No worries. Carry on, my friend. Since you’re in good hands, I’ll take my time getting there. I’ll call Miles, too.”
“Thanks. I’ll see you soon.”
“Wait!” Ari’s grin was audible. “Tell me if Carver is just being modest.”
Mim’s face flushed, and she turned away from Carver. “Definitely. Now, good-bye.”
Mim wrapped herself in a blanket and sat at the end of the couch nearest the fireplace. In the kitchen, Carver banged and clanked as he concocted something he guaranteed would warm her from the inside out. Finally he emerged with two steaming mugs. He handed one to her, and set his on the coffee table. Pulling two spice bottles out of the pocket of his robe, he leaned over to sprinkle the mugs. She held up her hand. “Just cinnamon. I hate nutmeg.”
“How could you hate nutmeg? It’s the flavor of Christmas.”
“Christmas is leaving a bad taste in my mouth this year, period.”
“Understood,” he said. “But you’re missing a crucial part of the experience.” He shook extra cinnamon onto her drink, and stood back to watch as she raised the mug.
She took a sip, and then another, sighing as the warmth radiated from her stomach to her limbs. “It’s good. What is it?”
“Hot buttered rum,” he said, sitting at the other end of the couch. “It’ll settle your nerves.”
“I doubt that. A stalker just left a heart-shaped ketchup stain in my yard.”
“That was a heart? Looked liked he’d been drinking,” Carver said. “The cops still haven’t figured out who’s behind this?”
“Lots of theories,” she said, “from angry patients to my ex. But nothing concrete, and it’s escalating.”
“Judging by tonight’s surprise, someone’s trying to woo you—in a twisted way.”
Pressing her hands to her eyes, she said, “Who knows where it will stop?”
Carver pressed the mug back into her hand. “It’ll stop with George back, I’m sure of it. It won’t be long before I’m complaining about his incessant barking again.”
Managing a weak smile, Mim took another sip. “This really is delicious.”
“It used to be my family’s Christmas special. Haven’t had it in years.”
“Are you spending the holiday with your family?” she asked.
Carver shook his head. “My mom passed away and my sister’s in California.”
“What about your dad?”
“History.” He looked away and something about the set of his jaw warned Mim away. But after a few moments of silence, he added, “He doesn’t approve of my ‘bohemian’ lifestyle.”
“What’s wrong with being a musician-carpenter?” she asked, smiling.
“Nothing, except for the fact that he financed my education—as an architect.” He shrugged. “I’m paying him back. Slowly.”
“I don’t get along with my dad, either. He didn’t like Kyle’s father, and practically disowned me over having the baby.” She took another long sip. “Guess he was right about Andrew.”
“But you don’t think this George business is Andrew’s doing?”
“No, he was sane last time I saw him. Impulsive, but sane.”
“And how’s Kyle doing?” Carver said. “Still pissed off over being ‘exiled’?”
“How’d you know that?”
“He texted me. I got his number in the summer so I could tell him when to shut George down. He mostly ignored me.”
“Welcome to the club.”
“Well, he’s maturing. Last night at the party he asked me to keep an eye on things since he wasn’t always around.”
“Really.” Mim was surprised Kyle kept in touch with Carver, and stunned that he was actually worried about her.
“Really.” He rested his bare feet beside Mim’s on the coffee table. “It was a shame about what happened with that girl.”
She pulled her feet down. “You knew about the girl?”
“Sure. Kyle mentioned it when he helped me move paving stones.”
“Helped you? Why am I always the last to hear anything?”
“From what he said, you’re pretty busy.”
Turning to glare at him, she said, “Do you know how hard it is to raise a kid on your own?”
“Whoa. Guess I touched a nerve there. No, I don’t know what it’s like to raise a kid, alone or otherwise. You must be doing a good job, because he’s a nice kid.”
“Well, it’s become clear that I could be doing better, both with Kyle and the dog.”
“The dog, definitely,” Car
ver said. “There will be time for that when he’s home.”
Throwing herself back in her seat, Mim sighed. “This creep is having too much fun to give George up. He’s broken into my house and now he’s leaving me crazy gifts. You know how this ends in movies, right?”
“With a dog pelt tea cosy?” Carver asked.
She shook a warning finger at him. “There’s a time to joke, Carver, and it’s not when someone is being stalked.”
“Sorry, just trying to lighten the mood. The police will get this guy. He’s not being very smart.”
“The police are distracted,” she said. “Christmas has gone to everyone’s head.”
“I hear it’s always like this in Dog Town.”
She tipped the last of the rum down her throat. “Truth.”
Carver eyed her thoughtfully. “Do you like living here?”
“Not always—or even most of the time. But I don’t know anything different. Why’d you move here? You don’t even have a dog.”
He stared at the fire, and Mim watched the reflected flames flicker in his dark eyes. “I needed a fresh start.”
“Criminal record?” she asked.
Looking at her quickly, he asked, “Why would you say that?”
“Whoa.” She held up her hand. “Guess I touched a nerve there.”
“There’s a time to joke, Mim, and it isn’t when someone’s in the witness protection program.”
She nearly choked. “Are you serious?”
“Do I sound serious?”
She sighed again. “I’m too tired for games.”
“Do you want me to go?”
“No.” It came out too quickly, so she added, “Not until Ari comes, if it’s okay with you.”
He went to make another round of drinks, and when he came back, he said, “In answer to your question, I chose Dorset Hills because there’s plenty of carpentry work available. And I needed a fresh start, that’s all.”
“Bad breakup?” Mim guessed.
“You could say that.” After a moment, he added, “It was for the best.”
She was disappointed to hear he was on the rebound, although in fairness, he could be thinking the same thing about her.
The Dog Town Collection Page 42