Kiss of Death

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Kiss of Death Page 11

by Meryl Sawyer


  She remembered every day and every training session. Lexi had been so easy, caught on so fast. Still, Whitney had been the one—never Ryan—to put in the necessary time.

  Why would a dog that was so well trained run away? It didn’t make sense. She had to admit Ashley might have been correct. Lexi could have been confused by leaving the home where she’d been raised to move first to a house-sitting place and then here. She must have released the latch to go search for Whitney.

  Because Lexi had simply vanished, Whitney realized she would always wonder about her dog. Was Lexi locked up somewhere, alone and afraid? Was she in pain? Did she need a vet?

  And some part of Whitney would always hope that one day she would open the door and miracle of miracles—Lexi would be there. Sitting, of course. Waiting to be petted.

  Whitney realized she would wonder and worry for years. Even when Lexi’s natural lifespan was over, Whitney would continue to agonize over her loss. She would still know that no matter who’d kept Lexi, the Golden was hers. And no one else’s.

  “SHE’S A NUT CASE,” Ashley said just after Adam and Whitney left.

  Her voice was still shaky. How many overly emotional women could he handle in an hour? Ryan eased his arm away from his wife’s shoulders.

  “Whitney’s crazy about that dog. Always has been.”

  It shocked Ryan to realize Whitney cared more about Lexi than she had about him. He hadn’t known it until just now. Seeing how distraught and unreasonable Whitney was convinced him. Even when he’d walked out on her, Whitney hadn’t been this upset.

  “Let’s get to bed,” Ryan told Ashley. There wasn’t anything he could do in the office tonight. Getting laid would take his mind off his problems for a few minutes.

  On their way to the master suite, Ryan heard his cell phone ringing in the distance. It was still in the office, where he’d left it beside the computer. Who would be calling him at this time of night?

  “A wrong number,” Ashley suggested.

  “Probably. I’ll check and turn it off.”

  He hurried back to his office and grabbed the cell phone off the stack of bills on his desk, dreading answering it.

  “Fordham,” the man said before Ryan could utter a word.

  “Yes.” He tried to project confidence even though his balls ached at the sound of the voice.

  “Dom wants to meet you tomorrow. He has a plan.”

  Ryan listened to the instructions, then hung up. He sank into his chair. He ran his tongue over his lips, but his mouth had gone bone dry.

  A plan?

  He wanted no part of any plan Domenic Coriz concocted. How was he going to get out of this mess? Now he knew why people committed suicide. If you had no way out, death might be your only choice.

  You’re stronger than that, he reminded himself. He’d grown up the youngest child in a working-class family. The youngest was supposed to be the baby, but it hadn’t worked that way in his family. Youngest meant his older siblings raised him. They’d teased him mercilessly or ignored him. He’d never known what to expect, so he’d struck out on his own. He’d worked hard to put himself through college and medical school. True, he’d married Whitney and she’d been responsible for his medical education, but he had struggled to get ahead. And he’d made it. This was a temporary setback—nothing more.

  Mentally reviewing his limited options, he meandered back to the master suite, taking time to turn off the backyard lights that Whitney had thrown on during her desperate search for Lexi.

  “Are you really going to call the testing labs tomorrow?” Ashley asked when he wandered into their bedroom.

  She was in bed, propped up against an armada of pillows and dressed in his favorite sheer black negligee that half exposed her perfect breasts. He’d performed more than his fair share of boob jobs and appreciated the real thing more than most men.

  “Yes. I’ll call around.” He kept talking as he went into his large walk-in closet off the bedroom. He raised his voice so she could still hear him. “Lexi’s my dog, too. I don’t want anyone experimenting on her.”

  Ashley waited a second before responding, “Of course not.”

  For an extended moment, he stood there, one leg out of his trousers, the other still covered by the fabric. An unsettled feeling caused his shoulders to twitch. Something about Ashley’s reaction to Lexi’s disappearance bothered him.

  He finished undressing and tossed his dirty clothes in the hamper he kept next to six long rows of shoes. Some, like his black patent leather tuxedo shoes, he rarely wore, but seeing them all lined up and polished made him smile. He had a shoe fixation for some reason, and he knew it. A shrink might ask if he’d lacked shoes as a kid or been forced to wear hand-me-downs. No. His family hadn’t had much money, but he’d always had his own sneakers and church shoes.

  Still, he never failed to notice people’s shoes when he met them. Ashley had been wearing strappy high-heeled sandals when he’d seen her for the first time. Tonight, Adam Hunter had on new black Pumas. As usual, Whitney was wearing ratty cross-trainers she’d bought on sale. Dom Coriz’s man had been wearing steel-toed boots most often seen on construction jobs.

  He left his Nikes in their spot on the shoe rack and walked naked into the bedroom. Ashley was still sitting upright, her blond hair cascading over her shoulders. The thought niggling at the back of his mind resurfaced.

  “Ashley, do you know anything about Lexi’s disappearance?”

  “Of course not,” she replied a bit too quickly.

  He stopped at the foot of the bed and asked himself how he knew she was lying. Nothing about the innocent expression on her face gave her away. Still, little red flags had been popping up since he joined her at the front door. Her tone of voice. Her flushed face.

  “Don’t lie to me.”

  The anger and frustration he harbored over his gambling losses and Dom’s threats underscored each syllable. Ashley clutched the silk top sheet as if she expected him to backhand her. He held his temper and stared at the woman he loved. “Is there something you want to tell me?” he finally asked when the silence had lengthened.

  Ashley blinked back tears with two sweeps of her long lashes. It was the first time he’d seen her cry. Ashley was his wife, the woman he loved in a way that he’d never loved anyone on this earth. At another time, tears might have moved him. Tonight his mind was numb from all the jackals after a piece of his hide.

  “A—a friend swiped her dog,” Ashley confessed.

  “Aw, shit! Why?”

  Ashley scrambled out from under the covers, dashed to his side and pressed her centerfold body against his. “We thought that if the dog went missing overnight, Whitney would be motivated to sign the documents.”

  “What? Of all the harebrained ideas! How was she supposed to link the dog to the papers?”

  “In the morning my friend is going to call Whitney and tell her what to do if she wants her dog back.”

  Christ! Ashley was legally blond. “What if Whitney calls the police? They’ll come after me.”

  A bitter-sounding laugh slipped out from between her pouty lips. “It would be her word against yours—and she wouldn’t stand a chance of getting Lexi back. My friend will make that crystal clear.”

  Ryan had to admit the scheme might have worked, but it also would have told Whitney how desperate he was.

  He backed away from Ashley. “Call your friend. Get Lexi back to Whitney. Have her say she found the dog wandering. Do not let her say or do anything that would make Whitney suspect we were involved. Understand?”

  He stomped into his closet and grabbed a pair of slacks off a hanger. Ashley followed him in and stood at the door. She didn’t say a word but he could feel her watching him as he dressed.

  Finally she asked, “Why are you getting dressed again?”

  He shoved his bare feet into a pair of navy Topsiders he didn’t remember ever wearing. “I need to get out of here and think. When I come back, I expect you’ll have taken ca
re of the problem.”

  “I will,” she whispered. “Don’t worry.”

  Ryan rushed out of the bedroom. He wasn’t concerned. Ashley would do as she was told and her girlfriend would return Lexi. This gave him the excuse he needed to drive to the casino and see if Lady Luck would smile on him.

  ASHLEY WAITED UNTIL SHE HEARD Ryan’s Porsche roar out of the garage before she called Preston Block.

  “Sorry it’s so late,” she apologized.

  “Not a problem.” Preston didn’t bother to ask who it was. They spoke every day and instantly recognized each other’s voices.

  “Ryan’s ex stomped in here tonight,” she told him. “Whitney thought we had her dog.”

  “So? She couldn’t have found a thing. The dog’s right here beside me.”

  “Ryan’s so smart. He figured out I was behind Lexi’s disappearance. He went ballistic. He insisted I have—” Ashley paused “—my girlfriend bring back the dog right away.”

  Preston chuckled. “Your girlfriend? That’s a joke.”

  “I didn’t tell him about you. He’s really upset and I didn’t want to make him any angrier.”

  Preston didn’t respond. Ashley knew he had a thing for her, but she tried her best to ignore it. She needed a friend, not another man with the hots for her.

  “Do something for me.” She hated the pleading tone in her voice, but what could she do? “Get that dog back right away.”

  “Tonight?”

  “Yes. Please. Do it for me.”

  Ashley hung up, then turned off the light, but she couldn’t sleep. She kept listening for the sound of Ryan’s car. He was so jumpy and angry lately that she didn’t know what to do. Something was bothering him. She tried to tell herself that it was the pressure of putting together a new practice, but now she wondered if that was all it was.

  Ashley had to pull her hand away from the telephone. She was sorely tempted to try to reach her father. He lived in Bakersfield, not far north. Like Ryan, he was a man who worked for a living and owned his own business. He must know about stress. He might have some idea of how to handle Ryan.

  But it had been years since she’d spoken to her father. He’d said he would always love her, but he’d left them. She was too proud to go sniveling to him. She could handle the situation.

  THE TELEPHONE ON ADAM’S uncle’s desk rang, startling him and waking up Jasper, who’d been asleep at his feet. A quick glance at his watch told him it was nearly three-thirty in the morning. Who would be calling at this hour? The caller ID screen read: Marshall.

  Whitney.

  What did she want? After her futile search for Lexi, they had driven home in silence. There was no need for words. Her eyes reflected a deep, inconsolable grief. It was impossible to gaze into those green eyes and not be touched.

  As attracted as he was to Whitney, Adam refused to be drawn into this any more than he already had been. He’d convinced himself he possessed the good sense to realize Whitney was still emotionally attached to her ex-husband.

  Adam did not want any more trouble. He’d spent the last hour sorting through his uncle’s papers. He needed to keep his focus on investigating Calvin Hunter’s death. Let Whitney attend to her own problems.

  He was half tempted to let the machine pick up the call but he’d told Whitney to phone him immediately if anything happened. From the cottage she could see that his lights were on and would know he was still up.

  “What’s happening?” he asked as Jasper leaped up onto his lap.

  “Good news,” she cried, the sound of tears in her voice. “A jogger found Lexi.”

  “At this hour?”

  “Yes. He’s bringing her home right away.”

  “That’s great. I’ll be right down—”

  “Don’t bother. You’ve done enough.” There was a slight pause. “I’m sorry for imposing on you. Thanks so much for all your help. Good night.”

  She hung up before Adam could respond. He stared at the receiver for a moment, relieved but still bothered by the late-night reappearance of the retriever. His police training made him question the situation even more. Kicking himself for not minding his own business, Adam trudged out of the house and down the path to the cottage that had once belonged to a full-time gardener. Jasper scampered along beside him.

  Whitney must have heard his footsteps on the wooden porch. She flung open the door before he could knock. Her happy smile evaporated as soon as she saw who it was.

  “Oh, I was hoping it was the guy who found Lexi.”

  Adam stepped inside with Jasper underfoot. He nearly stumbled over the little dog who’d become his constant companion. “I didn’t want you meeting some strange man so late at night. There are all kinds of people around. It’s good to be cautious.”

  The crunch of tires on the gravel driveway made Whitney charge by him. Adam followed a few steps behind her. A tall guy in a blue T-shirt and khaki pants got out of a Camry that had seen better days. He had sun-streaked blond hair and a bronze body. His biceps said he could snap a man’s neck like a toothpick.

  “Lexi!” Whitney raced toward the car as the man opened the back door and a Golden retriever jumped out.

  The dog tugged on the leash and whirled in a circle, barking. Whitney dropped to her knees, arms outstretched, and the dog lathered her with kisses. Tears of happiness streamed down her face.

  The guy flexed his powerful shoulders, his version of a shrug, and grinned at Adam. “I guess it’s her dog, all right.”

  “Looks like.” Adam stepped off the porch, still a little suspicious. He tried for his good-old-boy tone, the one he’d once used to put potential criminals at ease when questioning them. “Where’d you find her?”

  “Down on Memorial Drive. I was out for a run and noticed her in the bushes.”

  “A little late to be running, isn’t it?”

  The buffed-out guy smiled, revealing California-white teeth. “I was helping out a buddy at Boomerang’s, bouncing kids with phony IDs.”

  Adam remembered the place from his days on the police force. It was a punk hangout that had been busted numerous times for serving liquor to minors. As much drug dealing went on in the joint as it did over the border in Tijuana.

  “I was kinda keyed up, so I went for a run on my way home. Spotted the dog, then she started following me. I checked her tags, then called the number.”

  Whitney wouldn’t let go of the retriever. Her tears had stopped but her voice was still shaky. “Thanks so much. I’ve been out of my mind worried.” She unhooked the leash attached to Lexi’s collar. “I’m Whitney Fo—Marshall.”

  “Preston Block.”

  “Adam Hunter,” he said. “I’m Whitney’s friend. I live right there.” He gestured toward the house on the rise behind them. For reasons he didn’t have time to analyze, he wanted this guy to know he lived nearby.

  Block pointed at Jasper. “Is that eyesore a dog?”

  It took Adam a second to realize the jerk had insulted Jasper. He stepped forward, ready to cut loose with a smart comeback. He had to admit Jasper wasn’t winning any beauty awards, but the little dog belonged to him now.

  Whitney came to Jasper’s defense. “Jasper’s a Chinese crested. He happens to be the international champion.”

  Don’t say he’s worth a fortune, Adam silently cautioned. We don’t want another dog to disappear.

  “Really?” Block responded with a smile. “Coulda fooled me.”

  Adam battled the urge to whack him. Who was he to criticize Jasper?

  “Let me give you a reward for returning my dog,” Whitney offered, standing up. “You have no idea how grateful I am.”

  Good move, Adam thought. Block must have recognized the address on the tag as one of the more upscale neighborhoods and expected some money. That had to be the reason he was so anxious to return the dog in the middle of the night.

  Block shook his head. “Nah. I don’t want a reward. I’m just glad I could help. I know if my dog wandered off, I’d be
outta my friggin’ head.”

  There you go. What a sweetheart of a guy.

  “What kind of dog do you have?” Whitney asked.

  “I don’t have one right now. I’m in an apartment, but I grew up with German shepherds. I’m getting one as soon as I can.”

  “German shepherds are great,” Whitney said, stroking her own dog’s head. “I’d better feed Lexi. She missed dinner.”

  “I’m outta here,” Block said.

  “Goodbye. Thanks again. I’m really grateful.”

  From the other side of the car, Adam watched as Whitney gave Block a grateful hug and thanked him yet again for returning her dog. Lexi followed Whitney up the steps toward the door of the cottage.

  Adam kept his voice low, asking, “Do you always keep a leash in your car?”

  Block had his body half in the door of his car—a tight wedge, considering his size. “Nah.” He held up the leash. “I picked this up along with a Red Bull at the Stop ’N Go on Harborside. I thought I might have to walk her around for a while. There’s an old biddy in our complex. Goes ballistic if she even sees a dog visiting.”

  “Gotcha. Some folks aren’t dog friendly.” Adam turned toward the cottage, Jasper at his feet. Whitney had already taken Lexi inside. “Thanks again for your help.”

  “No problem,” the man said through the open window.

  Adam watched Block back down the driveway. He had returned Lexi on a cheap nylon leash, the kind a minimart would sell, but something nagged at Adam. He wasn’t sure what was bothering him. The guy seemed to be telling the truth. Adam noticed the Camry had a California plate and memorized the number.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  WHITNEY WAS SO intently watching Lexi eat that she didn’t realize Adam had come back into the cottage until she heard a soft sound behind her. She turned away from Lexi and smiled at him. “That gate needs a lock. Obviously, Lexi can figure out how to open it.”

  “I think a combination padlock would be easiest.” He paused. “We have a storeroom at the office with all kinds of locks and security devices. I’ll bring one home tonight.”

 

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