“Why don’t you officers come into the great room.” He walked down the hallway before getting an answer.
The detectives sat in black upholstered chairs across from Harding and Jones on the sectional. Behind the sectional, an abstract painting in shades of blue spanned half the wall. Caldwell could make out the moon and...a wing.
“You’ll have to excuse my appearance. I don’t know if Frank told you we’ve lost our Tashi.” He blew his nose, which sounded like a trumpet blast.
“What happened to her?” Caldwell asked.
Jones shook his head.
“We don’t know,” said Harding. “She’s a little Houdini. She’s gotten out by herself before, but she always comes back. I’ve tried to tell him that she’ll probably be crying at the door again in the middle of the night.”
“She was inside when I left for work this morning,” Jones sobbed.
Lake leaned forward. “I’m real sorry about your dog, but we’ve had some new developments in regard to Lily Moore. We have a few questions for you.”
“Lily?” Mr. Jones asked. “Have you found her?”
“No, not yet. Were you gentleman here all evening?” Caldwell asked. Both men looked at each other.
“No detective, we were at dinner at a tapas place in Buckhead with some friends,” Harding said.
“I didn’t want to leave because the dog was missing, but he insisted. We were with potential clients,” said Jones obviously still upset.
“Do you have a receipt from dinner?” Lake asked.
“Of course, I do. It was a business dinner. Why?” said Harding.
“Where were you both this morning?” Lake asked.
“At work.” Jones wiped his eyes.
“Larry works at Cartoon Network and I work at Bank of America,” added Harding.
“This is standard routine. We’re just checking your activities to rule you out as suspects in today’s events.”
“Suspects? What events?” Jones asked, his hand clutching his throat.
“Don’t suppose you saw the news?” Lake asked. Both men shook their heads. “Lily Moore was spotted this evening and appeared to be injured. A retired police officer was attacked as well and is missing.”
“Oh my God!” Jones exclaimed.
“So as strange as this sounds, we are interested in the whereabouts of your Shih Tzu,” Caldwell said. He had used his best “don’t fuck with me” cop tone, but the two still looked incredulous.
“I’m confused.” Jones leaned forward. “I thought this was about Lily?”
“It is,” Lake said. He uncrossed his legs. “Witnesses have given a description of a dog at the scene that matches your dog.”
Jones had a look on his face like the lieutenant had perhaps tapped into some contraband in the evidence room. “You’re here because you think our little Shih Tzu is involved with what happened to Lily?”
“Precisely,” answered Caldwell, fixing hard eyes on Jones.
“Okay,” he yielded. “What is it you need from us?”
“Picture of the dog and sample of her fur,” stated Caldwell. “If you have a dog brush, great. And, it would be helpful if you have a bone or something she has bitten or chewed on.”
Harding walked toward the chef’s kitchen complete with state-of-the-art stainless steel appliances. Caldwell watched him. Is he limping? Harding returned with a photo and the receipt from dinner. “Will this do? I’ll need the receipt back for tax purposes.”
Lake walked over, slipped on his glasses, and examined the picture. “Perfect. Simms, get some gloves and evidence bags from the car.”
“Her dog brush is in the laundry room along with a Nylabone,” offered Jones, starting to get up. Lake put up a hand. “We’ll let Simms retrieve it.”
“Oh,” said Jones sitting back down.
Once back in the house, Caldwell bagged the photo, dog brush, and bone.
Jones and Harding looked stupefied. Their faces were almost comical, but Caldwell didn’t laugh. “We believe Lily Moore is seriously injured and in tremendous danger. If she tries to contact you, notify us immediately.”
“Of course,” Harding said.
“We also need some DNA from the two of you. If you don’t mind coming down to the station to see our forensics expert, Tiny Hunt,” Lake said.
Harding’s thick eyebrows scrunched down in a furry line.
“We’re collecting samples from her entire network of friends and family,” Caldwell explained. “Until we check your alibis, no leaving the state.” He knew there was no law keeping them in place, but most people didn’t realize this.
“Of course not,” Harding said. “We’ll do anything we can to help Lily.”
On the way out Caldwell stopped next to him. “That’s quite a shiner.”
Harding grimaced and touched his eye. “Tashi and I went for a toy at the same time.”
Jones stood behind him pressing his lips together, confusion apparent in his eyes.
* * *
Larry retreated to the kitchen. Frank returned from showing the detectives out and pointed his finger at Larry. “That’s it; put your paws where I can see ’em.”
He burst out laughing. “You do a really good impression of Detective Hottie.”
“You think he’s hot?” Frank asked.
Larry squirmed. “No, but Tashi seemed to like him a lot so I gave him that nickname.”
“Uh huh,” said Frank.
“Lily’s hurt,” he said, clutching his stomach. The empanadas from dinner were starting to revolt.
“Well at least this is an indication that she’s still alive,” offered Frank, patting him on the shoulder.
“Yeah,” he sank back into his melancholy. “Lily’s hurt and my puppy’s gone.”
“Tashi will come back. I’ll check the backyard to see if she’s there.” Frank flipped on the back floodlight. “I’ll be right back.”
Larry looked down at the floor where some of Tashi’s toys were scattered. Frank returned a few minutes later, holding some kind of wet rag and a pink backpack.
Larry cocked an eyebrow.
Frank put the items on the counter; his face contorted. “Is there something you need to tell me?”
“What?” He approached the items as Frank backed off. He pulled the dripping rag up by his index finger and thumb. “What is this?” Since it was dripping everywhere, he dropped it in the sink where he could see the run off was a red color. Confused, Larry focused on the backpack. Pulling its contents out one at a time, Larry swallowed a huge knot in his throat. There was Frank’s leather jacket, a pair of pink panties, a change purse, and clear flip-flops. He remained eerily calm as he took inventory.
“Where is she Larry? Why didn’t you tell me?” Frank shook with rage.
“Where is who?” Larry asked.
“Lily Moore. You’ve been hiding her, haven’t you?” Frank’s eyes were huge and a tad scary.
“What the fuck are you talking about? Where did you get this stuff?”
“In the backyard, hung up on the crepe myrtle tree!” he shouted.
“I don’t know what’s going on here. Maybe we shouldn’t have touched all this stuff. Do you really think this is hers?” Larry asked.
“You tell me. You’re the one at home during the day.”
He couldn’t believe Frank was being such an ass. “Okay. You’ve got me. I’ve got her tied up in the garage.”
Frank looked at him. Something changed in his eyes that caused Larry to swallow. “I can see you believing some sob story and sheltering her. You really don’t know where she is?”
“No!” Larry said. As he turned to the bloody dress in the sink, he felt cold and queasy. “You really think this is hers?” His voice rose in pitch. “This...this is her blood?”
The implication of his findings crept slowly upon Frank’s face. “We shouldn’t have touched this stuff.”
They both backed away from the counter. “I’m gonna sit down for a minute,” Larry sa
id. He grabbed a bag of Twizzlers from inside the pantry before walking into the great room. He sat on the couch in stunned silence, chewing on a piece of licorice while his jaw clicked loudly.
Frank followed, but stood nearby. “Was that her dog?”
“Lily didn’t have a dog,” said Larry unblinking.
“I know she was your friend, but she’s involved in some criminal activity.”
“Shut up, Frank.” Larry hiccupped and began to cry again. It was all too overwhelming. “Weird things were happening. I didn’t tell you because I didn’t think you’d believe me. I thought someone had been into my makeup the other day. And then there was the really long hair I found in my brush on the sink.”
“And the Ferrero Rocher candies,” added Frank. “You’re allergic to hazelnut so I knew you didn’t eat it. A dog couldn’t unwrap candy like that and then politely discard the wrappers in the trash can.”
“There was blood on my sink after the first night we took in the dog.”
“She used my shower,” said Frank. “I came home one day and I swear I smelled my body wash and it seemed like someone had gone through my stuff. And my favorite shoes disappeared from the back door.”
“It seems that she gained access to our house and used it when we were gone during the day. That’s the only explanation I have,” Larry said, his mouth full of licorice. He stopped mid-chew and glanced at the licorice twist in his hand. “When did you buy Twizzlers?”
“I didn’t buy them.”
Larry threw the licorice on the coffee table. “Is she here now?” He looked around, frantically trying to fathom where his friend could be hiding.
Franks eyes darted around. “What if the killer’s with her?”
Larry’s mouth snapped shut.
“Come with me,” Frank said. He retrieved his enormous golf umbrella from the corner of his office and began to search the house. Larry only screamed once when they opened the front hall closet and a tennis racket fell out.
“Quick, call Detective Hottie, you’ve been assaulted!” Frank said.
Larry pinched the back of Frank’s arm, hard.
“Owwww.”
They made their way back through the kitchen to the laundry room. Frank flipped the switch on. Detective Simms had been in there, but hadn’t noticed something pink trapped beneath the dryer.
With some effort, Frank moved the dryer diagonally revealing a plastic flip-flop. “Those are kind of tacky, don’t you think?” Larry asked. “That’s not like Lily at all.” He peered further behind the dryer to spy something else pink. He was afraid of Frank’s reaction, but curiosity got the best of him. He shoved the dryer over a bit more and attempted to reach for another pink object. He sighed. He couldn’t fit back there.
“What are you doing?”
“I can’t fit. There’s something else back there.” Frank squeezed a leg in between and stretched to retrieve it. He held a hot pink fanny pack.
Frank’s nostrils flared as he shoved it into Larry’s chest. “This lady’s stuff is all over our house. Her blood is everywhere and we don’t know where she is. She’s been missing for almost a week. Do you think anyone will believe we don’t know anything about anything?”
“Whataya mean? We are two upstanding members of this community.” He looked over to see Frank’s eyes widen as he frowned.
“Aren’t we? Why do you have that look on your face?”
Frank yanked open the door to the garage and flipped on the light switch. “No! No! No!” When Larry peered into the garage, Frank had a homicidal sheen to his features.
“Uh oh.”
Franks hands tugged at his hair. “My bike! The bitch took my bike!”
“Lily wouldn’t do that unless it was life or death.”
“This is bad. I don’t want to go to jail.” Frank rushed past Larry into the kitchen.
“Don’t be ridiculous. Of course we’re not going to jail,” Larry mumbled while performing a forensic study of the pantry. Things were clicking into place. The Funyuns bag on the top shelf, the Blue Diamond almonds... Why hadn’t he noticed Lily’s favorite snacks in his house? When he closed the pantry door, he was alone in the kitchen. “Frank?”
He followed the rustling noise to the office. Frank was fastidiously packing up paperwork along with his computer.
“What are you doing?”
“We’re going on vacation. Pack your computer and suitcase,” he said while jamming fistfuls of paper into the shredder. “I knew there was something suspicious about that old lady.”
Chapter 25
At Death’s Door
Seth’s phone calls kept rolling to Dr. Gladson’s answering machine, but he remembered that the veterinarian lived in a ranch home adjacent to the clinic off the South Loop in Marietta. Leaving Lily in the front seat, he approached the red brick house and rang the doorbell. Two large dogs barked in warning. The door creaked open a crack with the chain still in place. “Who is it?”
“Seth Moore. You knew my father, Arthur.”
“Moore? What do you want?”
Seth shifted his weight to his right leg. “I have a badly injured Shih Tzu in my car.”
“Then take her to the emergency clinic on Cobb Parkway.”
Seth swallowed the lump in his throat. “Please,” he pleaded. “I’m taking a huge risk here, Dr. Gladson. You used to treat a police dog named Barney, a Belgian Malinois. She’s...she’s like him. I think you may be the only one who can save her.” He looked back toward his truck, thinking he should have carried Lily in his arms. Once the vet saw her, there was no way he would refuse.
“You’re Arthur’s son?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“Show me some ID,” he insisted.
Seth reached into his back pocket for his wallet and produced his driver’s license. Dr. Gladson handed it back to him.
“Bring her in.”
Seth ran back to the passenger side of his truck, and retrieved Lily. God is she dead? Her tiny mouth gaped open, her tongue hung out the side. The vet unchained the door revealing a man close to Seth’s height with shoulder-length gray hair, a mustache, and round wire-rimmed glasses.
Two black Labradors converged on him having made their mad escape through the open door. “Back!” he said.
With one command, Dr. Gladson had the labs back in the house. His brown eyes shined, inquisitive, yet calm. “They seem to like you,” he noted as he motioned Seth to follow him next door to the clinic. The keys jingled in his pocket. He unlocked the doors and turned on the lights. The place smelled of nervous animals, pet food, and antiseptic. Seth followed him through a small reception area to an exam room. “What’s her name?”
Seth paused, “Tashi.”
“What’s her real name?” he asked gently.
“Does it matter right now?” asked Seth. “Can’t you just treat her?”
“If she has any connection to that Malinois then it would be pertinent to the care I provide,” said the vet as he efficiently pulled supplies on to the table.
“She’s related to the Malinois.”
Lily lay on her side. Seth watched for a breath. He breathed a sigh of relief when he noted the slightest movement of her rib cage.
Dr. Gladson went to work using Seth as his technician for holding and retrieving items. He removed a beautiful necklace from around Lily and placed it on the counter, before x-raying her neck and shoulders. Then he started an IV for fluids and pain medication.
“The wound has already healed a bit.” Dr. Gladson studied the exit wound. “That’s strange,” he said.
“What?”
“I’d say the bullet went clean through the shoulder muscle, but...usually the exit wound is larger than the entrance.” He stared at it almost as if he was waiting for it to confess under his pressure.
“Is it still inside her?”
“No. It just occurred to me that perhaps her body rejected it on its own and the wound is closing. I would have liked to clean all her wounds
before they closed, but I don’t want her to start bleeding again. I’ll do the best I can and administer an antibiotic to stave off infection. Her head wound may be trickier. Thankfully, her lungs are clear and I don’t detect any signs of internal organ damage.”
“Does she have a concussion?” Seth asked.
“Yes, a severe concussion. Her body seems to have gone into its own hibernation state so it can heal.”
Dr. Gladson glanced at the necklace on the counter. “That’s unusual.”
“Yeah,” said Seth, eyeing it. He could swear it vibrated and emitted a high-pitched frequency. He sure as hell wasn’t touching it.
“I’ll put it back on her now,” said the vet looking at Seth. Seth wasn’t sure that was a good idea, but stepped back from the table. The vet carefully lifted Lily’s head to slip the necklace in place. Her body twitched and her eyes popped open, glowing a brilliant green.
Seth touched her gently, “You’re okay.” Her eyes shut. The hair on the back of Seth’s neck stood at attention as he looked at the locket now glowing red.
* * *
Lily had felt tremendous pressure pulling her body in every direction. Then spinning and plummeting down, down, down. She didn’t understand how one moment she was behind the old abandoned gas station, the next she was sprawled on the damp earth of Frank and Larry’s backyard. The house was empty.
Pain had made her shake and vomit violently. Her body naturally shifted into a Shih Tzu. In this form, the pain had dulled slightly. Noting the crucible lying in the mud, she had squirmed over to maneuver the chain around her neck. She remained prone with the crucible underneath her ribs. Warm waves of energy surged through her skin and traveled up her body to her shoulders and head.
The next conscious moment, Lily recognized Seth’s scent. Wrapped in his shirt, she felt safe and secure as they sped down the road in his truck that smelled like Abercrombie & Fitch Woods cologne mixed with sweat.
Then bright fluorescent exam lights seared her eyes. She caught glimpses of the man working on her. Seth seemed to trust him, so she did too.
Detecting Seth’s anguish, she wished she could let him know it was okay, but the crucible took her away to a place so tranquil that she wasn’t sure she cared to find her way back. She stepped off into another’s dream...
First Born (Lily Moore Series) Page 15