by Meryl Sawyer
Adam followed Whitney into the backyard, but the Golden retriever wasn’t in the pool area, and there was no sign of her in the well-manicured bushes.
“I don’t think she could get into the dog run along the side of the house,” Adam told her. “It’s only accessible from the dog door off the kitchen. That’s how Jasper comes and goes, but let’s check.”
There was no sign of Lexi in the dog run. Whitney kept calling and calling but the retriever didn’t respond. Adam had a bad feeling about this. Lexi was a female, small for her breed. If she’d followed them out onto the trail, a pack of coyotes could have taken her down.
“I saw a Mag flashlight in one of the kitchen drawers. I’ll get it, then let’s check out the trail.”
“Good idea,” Whitney answered, a quaver in her voice. “She may have followed my scent in that direction.”
It took Adam a few minutes to locate the flashlight and determine the battery was still working. He ran out of the house. Whitney was standing at the edge of the trail, calling for Lexi. The hollow tone of her voice told him that she didn’t expect her dog to come.
“No sign of Lexi?”
“No. I’m just kicking myself for not double-checking the gate.”
They hurried onto the trail. The wide beam of the Mag light illuminated the path and the brush alongside it. Ground squirrels skittered away from the bright light, but there wasn’t any indication Whitney’s dog was out here.
“Could she have gone the other way toward the street?” he asked.
“I guess, but I don’t know why she would. I walk her along the trail or around my clients’homes. We haven’t used the street.”
Adam understood. This section of Torrey Pines was hilly and didn’t have sidewalks. Cars traveled faster than they should. It would be dangerous to walk along the road. That’s why whoever had called 911 for his uncle must have been walking along the trail or had driven up to the house in a car. They heard his uncle cry out for help…or something. They’d gone upstairs to the study, found the body sprawled across the floor and called 911.
That was one scenario. But if his uncle had been murdered, the killer could have been in the house. The first responders on the scene found the front door unlocked. That didn’t sound like Uncle Calvin, but Adam didn’t know him well enough to be positive. This was a safe, affluent area. The neighbors might not have been concerned about safety, but Calvin must have been, considering what he’d told Adam in Greece. Could Calvin have been expecting someone and left the front door unlocked for that person? It could have been a fatal mistake.
“Why don’t I drive you through the neighborhood?” he asked. “Flash the light into the bushes and call to Lexi.”
They searched the area for over an hour but couldn’t find a trace of the dog. They drove back to his uncle’s house in silence.
“Now what?” he asked. “Animal control doesn’t pick up strays at night.”
Whitney’s lower lip trembled as she spoke. “Lexi’s chipped so if she is picked up by animal control, they’ll wand her and call the chip center. All the chip shows is an ID number. The center has my updated info. They’ll call me right away.”
“Let’s leave on the yard lights and your porch lights. That way if she’s out there somewhere, she can find her way back.”
“I will,” Whitney replied, her voice barely above a whisper.
“I don’t suppose you want any pizza.” He’d given Mama Gina’s his credit card. He was sure they’d left the pizza while he and Whitney were out. “It’s probably cold, but we could zap—”
“Thanks, but I’m going to keep looking for Lexi. Miranda didn’t mention any dognapping problems around here, but L.A.’s had a lot of trouble. I’ve dropped off many dogs at groomers’. They’re usually the first to know if there’s a snatch-and-run scam operating in the area. Owners put up reward signs at groomers’on the off chance whoever took the dog will bring them in for a bath.”
“You mean thieves snatch dogs, then ransom them?”
“Sometimes, but there are rings that grab dogs and pass them to someone else who takes them out of the immediate area. That person often gives the dog to yet another person. The animal is sold quickly for less than market value.”
“It wouldn’t have papers.”
“Not necessarily,” she reflected with bitterness. “A computer can generate a document that looks amazingly like an AKC certificate. People don’t ask questions because they’re glad to get the dog at a bargain price.”
Adam was amazed. “I thought people just wanted puppies.”
“No. The thieves have great stories about owners who’ve been transferred or died or something to explain why they’re selling a full-grown dog. This appeals to people who want to bypass the house training ordeal. The new owners get a pet that’s housebroken and well trained.”
“They must be selling them over the Internet.”
“Exactly, but from what I understand, they post a picture of a dog that belongs to someone in the ring. Even if I surf the Web, I won’t necessarily see Lexi’s picture. People who respond to the ad are told to bring cash and meet the seller at a public place like the parking lot of a fast-food restaurant, where the exchange takes place.”
Adam could understand why Whitney sounded so discouraged. If dognappers had stolen Lexi, the retriever would be long gone by morning. “I guess thieves remove a dog’s collar, but what about Lexi’s microchip? Won’t that tell who she really belongs to?”
“Yes, if a vet has a reason to check the chip in her neck. It’s routinely scanned by animal control, but that means a dog has to be picked up first. It happens, but people are usually careful with purebreds, so animal control doesn’t have any reason to check them.” She lowered her head and studied her hands, clutched together in her lap. “A chip’s easy to remove. I could do it with a long needle, but they don’t usually bother.”
Adam had to admit finding Whitney’s dog didn’t sound promising. If a pack of coyotes hadn’t dragged off the retriever, thieves must have taken her. A thought occurred to him. “Why didn’t they take any of the other dogs? Didn’t you say they were smaller? Wouldn’t they be easier to handle?”
“True, but certain breeds are more in demand. Golden retrievers, pugs and Labs rank right up there. It’s also possible they had an order for a female retriever. From what I’ve been told, thieves target dogs they know they can sell instantly.”
“You mean Chinese cresteds aren’t at the top of the list?”
Whitney attempted a laugh. “Most people wouldn’t recognize one. Until Kate Hudson starred in How to Lose a Guy in Ten Days, Chinese cresteds weren’t on the radar screen.”
“Hey! My uncle told me the same crested won the ugliest dog in the world contest two years in a row.”
“That dog was pitiful. Most Chinese cresteds look more like Jasper.”
That wasn’t saying much, in Adam’s opinion. It was hard to believe people actually bred dogs to look like Jasper. It was even more difficult to understand how shy little Jasper had become an international champion. Go figure. Still, he had to admit he was developing a soft spot for Jasper. It was hard not to like a dog who adored you.
“Do you think it’s possible your ex took Lexi? He seemed really angry with you.”
“I can’t see Ryan taking her and leaving the gate ajar. The other dogs could have run off, and I would be in serious trouble.” The words weren’t out of her mouth one second before she gasped.
RYAN STARED AT HIS COMPUTER screen. He’d made a list of the bills he owed and ranked them by order of importance. The bank was already sending late notices on his home loan. He was behind on the second mortgage and home equity loan as well. He didn’t have any hope of paying off his debts if his new partners realized his financial plight and dropped him from the new cosmetic surgery group.
Talk about hell on earth.
Maybe if he took what little cash he had, he could play the slots and parlay it into enough to hit the tab
les. With luck, he could run it into real money. Perhaps he could win enough to make all or part of the house payment.
Those problems paled when compared with the threat from Domenic Coriz. Being in debt was one thing; being dead was another. It wasn’t an idle threat. The Indian tribes in San Diego County earned megabucks from their casinos. The operation had spawned a rough element that used mob tactics ruthlessly. They would kill Ryan without a second thought and dump his body on the rez where no one would ever find it.
Whitney had to sign those papers—immediately. He desperately needed a debt-consolidation loan. The interest rate would be stratospheric but it would just be temporary. When the cosmetic surgery group was up and running, he would pay off all his loans.
In the distance, the doorbell chimed. He glanced at his Rolex. Nearly eleven o’clock. Who would be at his door so late? Domenic or his goon flashed into his mind. They might hassle him at home. Sweat peppered the skin just under the hair on his forehead.
He heard Ashley answer the front door and voices drifted across the large living room to the back of the house, where he’d converted a rear bedroom into an office. It sounded like a woman.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he heard Ashley protest in a frantic voice.
“You have my dog! I know you do. Don’t deny it.” He recognized Whitney’s voice. “How could you steal my dog right out of her yard? Isn’t it enough that you have my husband, my house?”
Oh, shit! Just what he didn’t need. Whitney going postal on Ashley. The deeper rumble of a male voice sent him dashing through the living room where Ashley had been rearranging furniture again.
“We need to check the house and the yard,” a stern male voice boomed through the large entry.
Ryan rushed into the foyer. “What’s going on?”
He slammed to a stop, stunned to see Whitney and that jerk who’d ordered him off Whitney’s driveway standing in the entry. Ashley was flushed and her lower lip was trembling. He raced to her side and put a protective arm around her.
“Lexi’s missing!” Whitney pointed at him. “You took her, didn’t you?”
“What? You’ve hit a new low.”
“No, I haven’t,” she yelled in a strident voice he hadn’t heard once during their marriage. “You stole Lexi to get back at me.”
“I wouldn’t take Lexi. You know that.”
“I didn’t think you’d hurt me, either,” Whitney shrieked. “No telling what you’ll do next.”
Out of the corner of his eye, Ryan saw Ashley gaze up at him, a questioning look in her eyes. Shit! Why did she have to frighten Ashley? He’d momentarily lost his temper—that’s all.
“I didn’t hurt you. I just needed you to see reason and sign the papers.”
“I want my dog back. You got this damn house and the furniture. All I asked for was Lexi. I want her back—now.”
“I don’t have her.” He glanced at the powerfully built man with Whitney. He was frowning at Ryan like he wanted to deck him. “I swear I don’t have the dog.”
“Since this is legally still half Whitney’s house, she has the right to look around and see if you have Lexi.” The man spoke in a low, level voice, but his commanding presence reminded Ryan of Domenic Coriz.
“I don’t appreciate your barging in here and scaring my wife,” Ryan told Adam, but Adam could see the wimpy doctor was shaken. “I didn’t take Lexi. Why would I?”
Adam had been on homicide long enough and had interrogated enough lowlifes to realize Ryan Fordham was telling the truth. They weren’t going to find the dog here.
“You took Lexi to get back at me for not signing the papers,” Whitney insisted.
“Oh, for Christ’s sake.” Ryan ground out the words. “I’m not that childish. If you acted your age and signed the document you’d already agreed to, we could go our separate ways.”
Adam didn’t know exactly what was in the document or why Whitney had refused to sign it, but Fordham made Whitney sound peevish. Adam fought the impulse to turn and leave. He never became involved in family feuds—particularly divorces. Tempers flared and emotions ran deep. He didn’t want to be in the middle of this.
“Look around.” Ashley waved a manicured hand sporting a diamond the size of a golf ball. “You won’t find her.”
Adam nudged Whitney. “See if Lexi’s here. I’ll wait for you.”
Whitney dashed to the right, heading toward the kitchen. From where Adam was standing he could see the wavering blue-white light reflected on the windows. Evidently there was a pool beyond the house, and Whitney had mentioned a dog run where Lexi once had a doghouse.
“What happened?” Ryan Fordham curtly asked him. Again, Adam had the distinct impression the doctor hadn’t a clue about Lexi’s whereabouts.
Adam told the doctor and his bombshell wife who he was and explained what had happened to Lexi. Fordham tried to frown but his brows barely moved. Must be injecting himself with Botox, Adam decided. It figured; cosmetic surgeons, even ones as young as Fordham, couldn’t afford telltale wrinkles.
“That’s strange. Lexi never wanders,” Fordham told him in a puzzled tone. “We’ve had her since she was a puppy. Nearly five years. She never once ran off.”
“Maybe the dog’s confused,” Ashley suggested in a breathy voice. “She thinks this is her home. She isn’t used to her new place yet.”
Fordham gave the sexy blonde an affectionate squeeze. “Good thinking, sweetheart. It’s also possible thieves snatched Lexi and sold her to a test lab. There are several in the area. Golden retrievers are easy marks. They’re trusting and anxious to please. Experimenter’s favorites.”
“Oh, no,” Ashley moaned. It seemed a little put on, but who was Adam to say. “How terrible.”
“I’ll make some calls first thing in the morning,” Ryan offered. “If she’s at a local lab, I’ll be able to track her down.”
“Good idea,” Adam said, and he meant it. He was positive Ryan Fordham was telling the truth. It would be so easy if Whitney’s ex had taken the dog, but it was more likely the retriever would vanish into thin air. Whitney might never know what had happened to her pet.
“It would help if you could convince Whitney to sign those papers. She agreed to the settlement already, but the judge screwed up. He didn’t notice the document hadn’t been properly recorded.” Ryan gave his wife a one-armed hug. “Then we can go our separate ways in peace.”
Adam found himself nodding. He hadn’t known her long, but he wanted Whitney to feel free, to want to start over. These papers—and the dog—seemed to be her last link to her ex. Was she playing it for all it was worth? he suddenly wondered. Could Whitney have the dog stashed somewhere, using this as an excuse to get back at her husband or something?
Why had he become involved? He was thinking with his dick. After nearly three years without sex, he’d gone bonkers over the first attractive woman to cross his path. Granted, Whitney was sexy as hell—and interesting—but he didn’t need to be involved in a domestic dispute like this.
“Look, Doc,” he replied, aware he’d made “Doc” sound like a four-letter word. “This isn’t any of my business. Take it up with Whitney.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
WHITNEY STUMBLED INTO the cottage. Da Vinci and Maddie greeted her with high-pitched yips. They ran in happy, excited circles around her feet. It was all she could do not to shout: Which one of you opened the gate? Who let Lexi out?
She collapsed onto the small well-worn sofa, admitting that it must have been Lexi who’d used her nose or paw to spring the latch on the gate. The other dogs were too little to reach the lever. Lexi had never done anything like that—ever. She’d never shown the slightest tendency to wander. But there was always a first time. Blaming the other dogs, yelling at them wouldn’t bring Lexi back.
“Please, God,” she whispered, “I’ll do anything.”
Then she remembered what her mother had always said. You can’t make deals with the universe. God has
more important things to do.
Still she prayed, because that was all she could do. Hot tears slowly seeped from her eyes and drizzled down her cheeks. Lexi’s collar had a tag with her name and this phone number clearly engraved on it. Whitney had always taken precautions not to lose Lexi. When she’d first left the home she’d shared with Ryan to house-sit, she’d immediately gotten Lexi a new tag and called the chip center to update the information. She’d switched the tag for another one the first day she’d moved in with Miranda. She’d contacted the chip center again with the current information.
“It’s too soon to give up hope,” she told Da Vinci, who’d hopped up beside her and was trying his best to lick the tears dribbling off her chin.
A paralyzing depression gripped her. How do we sense things before we know them? she asked herself. When she’d left Adam to feed the dogs, something had alerted her. A sense of dread like a slow-moving fog had engulfed her on the stone path from the main house to the cottage.
The minute she’d opened the front door she’d…known. She’d raced to the back door to the small yard where she’d left the dogs. The gate was ajar. Lexi had vanished.
She’d rushed around like a crazy woman. Searching and calling. Searching and calling. Yet in her heart of hearts, she’d known she wouldn’t find Lexi.
Even when she’d had the hissy fit at Ryan’s, she’d known deep down that it was a vain hope. When he didn’t get his way, Ryan did little vindictive things like “accidentally” throwing out cherished photographs of her mother. But she didn’t believe he’d taken Lexi.
Another wave of tears brimmed in her eyes and streamed down her cheeks. What had her last words to Lexi been? “Go on, now. Do your business.”
She tried not to think of what she’d read on the Golden retriever rescue Web site. Almost three-quarters of lost Goldens were never returned to their owners—despite having identification on them. They were intelligent, loving dogs. People who found them tended to keep them.
“Lexi belongs to me,” she whispered to herself.