Till Death Do Us Bark

by Judi McCoy

  Could he have dropped the weapon in a scuffle, followed the doc out, and found his father waiting? Would Julio have been angry enough to shove Kent so hard he went flying backward and smacked his head?

  Both men knew the area. Tomas had lived there off and on for years, and Julio maintained the property. Surely he’d taken the route on the far side of the cottage, where it was hidden from view, a hundred times before. They could have run around the parking lot and steered wide, then entered the main house through the front and acted as if they’d been inside all along. With so much activity going on outside, who would see them?

  “I can tell you’re thinkin’.” Rudy sniggered. “There’s smoke comin’ outta your ears.”

  “Very funny.” Ellie gazed at him. “You’re not keeping anything from me, are you? Did you notice anybody heading down the walk to Dr. Sleazeball’s office during the party?”

  “Those pains in the butt, Greta and Coco, were yapping. Kept trying to get Mr. T and me to play, but we ignored them.” He put his paws on her thigh. “I saw a coupl’a men walkin’ down the path as the night wore on, but I’d never recognize them by their backsides.”

  “How about a scent? Or their hair?”

  “Too far away when we saw ’em,” said T.

  “Maybe if you took me to the dog psychic, Madame Orzo, she’d help me remember,” Rudy whined.

  “There’s no time for me to get you back to the Village for a session with the woman. Just use your own brain and think, but not too hard. Something might come back to you.”

  Ellie wrote what little she could on the pages. She had to speak to Julio, and there had to be some way she could question Uncle Mickey and Dr. B without arousing their suspicion. Adrianne had been no help, but—

  What was it Adrianne had said? She’d gotten a sedative from Dr. Kent, and when she left his office two or three patients were still in the waiting room. Who were they, and how could she get their names?

  Glancing up, she noticed that the outdoor lights had automatically brightened, which meant darkness was almost upon her. She stood, prepared to go into the house and turn on the lights for the terrace; then she heard footsteps. Rudy and Mr. T growled at the same moment and stalked slowly to the stairs.

  Ellie flipped on the rear lights and James Bond blinked in the surprising glow. Wearing a more formal but still resort-casual dark green T-shirt and khaki pants, he looked as handsome and cocky as ever. He straightened at the bright flash, his dark eyes focusing on the back door.

  “How did you get here?” she demanded.

  “I walked down the beach, of course, and followed the path up. You have a problem with that?”

  She stepped onto the terrace. “No one’s home, so you might as well leave.”

  His full lips curved in a grin. “You’re here, aren’t you?”

  She propped her back against the doorframe. “Yes, but I’m not in charge of the house. I can’t let you in and I’ve already answered all your questions, so—”

  He pulled a folded piece of paper from his back pocket and snapped it open. “Oh, but you can let me in. I have that search warrant Ms. Millman challenged me to get.”

  Growling, Rudy and T scuttled in front of him. “We got him, Triple E. Say the word and he’s toast.”

  When the dogs threatened, Agent Bond took a step in reverse and slapped his hand over his lower back. “Hey, call off the mutts!”

  Ellie stifled a smile and tried for serious. “There’s no need to reach for your gun, Mr. Bond. They’re just protecting me.”

  “He’s sweatin’. I can smell it,” Rudy snarled.

  He stared at the dogs for ten seconds, then slowly moved his right hand back to his side. “How about calling me Jim? This whole Agent Double O Seven thing is getting old.” Before she answered, he waved the warrant, his voice all business again. “And I can assure you this is on the level.”

  “You want to use it now? Tonight?” Detective Wheeling had already searched the house. What was Agent 007—Jim—looking for? “A little late, don’t you think?”

  Keeping an eye on Rudy and T, he took a step closer. “The local cops gave me the findings on their search, and they collected only one computer, which Kent kept in his office. I’m hoping to find something smaller, maybe a PDA, whatever he used to store his records in. The desktop had none of that, but I need the personal one. I’m hoping to find it in Kent’s home office.” His lips thinned. “I also want to check out Ms. Millman’s medicine chest for myself.”

  “And I’m supposed to let you in?”

  “You could, but it’s not necessary. The door isn’t locked and you and the dogs won’t block my way—” He stopped when Rudy and T began a second round of growls. “Come on, call off the mutts and cooperate.”

  She had no right to refuse him. He was an agent for the DEA and the doctor was dead. Jim had already told her he wasn’t interested in finding the murderer. All he wanted was a look at Kent’s personal records so he could capture the rest of the slime in the doc’s drug ring. But she did feel protective of Arlene, who, aside from that one negative comment about weight, had only been polite and kind to her, and she was trying to repair the relationship she had with Viv.

  Ellie gazed at the guesthouse and saw the lights on the second floor. “Adrianne is in the cottage. Why don’t you talk to her? She’s a family member, and she could let you in.”

  He set his hands on his hips. “The woman is useless. She told me she had a prescription for every Schedule Two drug she was taking, and it checked out. Interestingly enough, they were all filled in the Montauk pharmacy in the past three weeks. I really don’t want to ask her permission to do what I already have the authority to do.”

  Ellie remembered Viv saying that Arlene had cleaned her medicine cabinet and tossed out a couple of dozen bottles of pills. Though her older sister might not have any smarts in choosing the right man, she was a member of Mensa. Surely she had gotten rid of anything incriminating.

  “Are you going to arrest Ms. Millman?”

  He crossed his arms and his biceps flexed, filling out his shirt and shaping each muscle. “I don’t plan on it, but she could be in trouble. Her sister, too. It depends on what I find inside.”

  “And this has nothing to do with the murder?”

  “Awwwk! Murder! Awwwk! Don’t make me do something you’ll regret, Marty. Awwwk!”

  Ellie spun around to face Myron. She knew the voice he was imitating. She’d heard it somewhere before, but where? Just then her phone rang. Surprised by the tone, she automatically reached into her tote and pulled out the cell. When she checked the caller ID, she gave a mental eye roll. Leave it to Sam to pick tonight for a chat. Dropping it in the bag, she let the call go to voice mail.

  “You could have taken it out here,” Jim said, cocky as ever. “Then again, I guess you already know that.”

  She took a step forward to show him she wasn’t intimidated. “How would you know what I know?”

  “Awwwk! I know, I know, I know! Awwwk! I know! I know! Awwwk! Ain’t no sunshine when she’s gone. Awwwk!”

  He grinned. “Ol’ Myron does a good job with Bill Withers, doesn’t he? ‘Ain’t No Sunshine’ is a golden oldie.”

  No one had told Ellie what to do with the dopey bird, but someone always brought him in when it got dark. Since she was the last one on the terrace, she felt it was her turn to take care of the African gray. And the boys, before they did something they’d be sorry for.

  Shrugging, she decided to ease up on faux Agent 007. He was correct. She couldn’t stop him from entering the premises. “Back off, you two. We have to let Mr. Bond in.”

  She picked up Myron’s pedestal and her verbal sparring partner shot past the guard dogs. “Here. I’ll take that.” His fingers wrapped around hers, and just as quickly, he let go and backed away. “Sorry. Put it down, and I’ll do the job.”

  Heat flamed up Ellie’s neck and crept over her cheeks. Good thing the terrace lights cast shadows or he’d see her
blush, which would only make her turn a darker red. If she was still the color of a traffic cone, he might not notice, but she was almost back to normal. . . .

  She took a step of retreat and held open the door. “We can bring him in the kitchen. He has a cleared spot there.”

  The dogs marched in first. Then Jim carried in the perch and stepped aside to let Ellie lead the way. She flipped on the kitchen light and aimed for Myron’s special area while the bird squawked another round of phrases.

  “Awwwk! Don’t make me hurt you, Marty. Awwwk!”

  “Ahh! Ahh! Ahh! Awwwk! That’s it. Do it to me. Awwwk!”

  She was fairly certain the female voice belonged to Adrianne, but where had she heard that male voice? Arriving at Myron’s post, she pointed a finger. “Just set him down and give me a minute. He gets a slice of apple as a nightly snack.”

  Jim edged past the dogs and headed into the dining room. “You do what you have to. I’ll get started.”

  “We can still take him down, Triple E.”

  “The fool has no idea who he’s dealin’ with.”

  Ellie pulled an apple from the fruit bowl, rinsed it, and cut off a slice. Dropping to one knee, she gave each boy a chunk while whispering, “The man had a gun. He might have shot you both. Now be good.”

  Standing, she chopped off another slice and brought it to Myron, who took the apple with his beak. “Tell me, Mr. Smarty-pants. Whose voice was that you mimicked a minute ago?”

  Myron took a bit of the apple, then passed it to his clawed foot, chewing as he stared at her.

  She returned to the counter, cut two more slices, and tossed them to the boys. “You’re an animal. Can’t you talk to that crabby-assed bird?” she asked Rudy. “That might solve some of the mystery.”

  The dogs chomped the apple down and sat at attention. “Really, think about talking to him for me, please?”

  “Sorry. No can do,” said Rudy, licking his muzzle. “That parrot reminds me of a lawyer; all talk and no common sense. They both talk bird-speak and I don’t.”

  “Well, I don’t ‘speak bird,’ either, and you’re a lot closer to him on the evolutionary chain than I am.” She wiped the countertop with a sponge and rinsed it out, then washed her hands. “Guess I’d better go find Agent Double O Seven before he gets into something he shouldn’t.” She walked to the rear staircase. “You two, go up this way and head straight to bed. No snooping or annoying Jim.”

  The dogs grumbled, but did as told. Ellie wanted to see what Jim was doing, so she followed his tracks. If he found something in the doctor’s office, she wanted to know about it. When she arrived in the foyer, she caught a glimmer of light from the hall that led to the library and Arlene’s office and figured he’d gone there first. Then she took a better look and realized the area was still fairly dark. She stepped toward a side table holding a lamp. She’d need more wattage to find her way into the hall.

  “Hey, Jim, have any luck?” she called out. When he didn’t answer, she opened her mouth to give another shout. The hall turned dark as a tomb, and before she could speak, a large figure came rushing toward her.

  Plowing into her like a pro linebacker, the man shoved her out of the way and knocked her into the table, where she fell flat on her ass. Glass crashed as she hit the floor and she banged her head on the way down.

  She saw stars. Footsteps pounded down the stairs and the dogs barked. A moment later everything went black.

  Chapter 11

  Muscled arms held Ellie tight, but in a good way. When something cool pressed against her left temple, a flash of pain shot into her brain. She struggled to get away, but those same arms tensed around her, keeping her in place.

  “Sit still and let me clean you up a little.”

  Another familiar voice . . . it was . . . it was . . .

  She opened her eyes and slammed them shut. Damn, the light was bright. Moving, she felt another pain hit her and slumped into those warm, hard arms.

  “Do you think anything’s broken? Can you talk?”

  “Head hurts. Don’t wanna,” she said with a moan.

  His chest shook and she knew he was laughing.

  “I can’t believe a big tough girl like you would let a little pain shut you up.”

  Big girl? Was that another crack about her weight? “It’s my head, not yours, bozo.”

  “Ah, there’s the woman I’m used to dealing with.”

  She sat up and this time the arms let her go. Wincing, she cracked open her eyes, hoping to fend off that darned bright light. Through a haze, she saw khaki-colored pants crouched beside her outstretched legs. She blinked, her eyes opening wider, and let her gaze wander up a flat stomach and chest to well-formed shoulders, a corded neck, strong jaw, and . . .

  What was she doing in the arms of James Bond, with his GQ face just inches from her nose?

  Pushing him away, she groaned. “What the heck did you do to me?”

  He chuckled. “Me? Not a darn thing. I heard a crash and came down the stairs as fast as I could. Stupid dogs almost tripped me when they raced from behind me to the bottom of the steps. They took off out the door and I haven’t seen them since.”

  “What!” She groped against him. “I’ve got to get Rudy. And T. It’s dark. They don’t know this area.” Rising to her knees, she put her hands on the floor to push herself up. Pain sliced her left palm and she hissed.

  “Slow down and take it easy. There are shards of glass all over the place.” He grabbed her upper arm. “Here, lean on me and I’ll help you to stand.”

  Ellie found her footing and swayed right into those rock-hard arms again.

  “Hey, you’re not going to pass out on me, are you?”

  She shook her head and a jackhammer started pounding double time in her brain. “No, I’m okay,” she lied. “I have to find my dogs.”

  “Screw the dogs. You’ve got a knot on your temple the size of an egg, and now you’ve cut your palm. Sit here and hold this towel on your head while I take a look outside.”

  He moved a rattan side chair out of place and tucked her into it. She blinked in the light as he walked through the foyer and disappeared. It gave her time to survey her surroundings. The glass-topped table next to the chair was overturned, the crystal vase that had sat upon it shattered on the hardwood floor, while seashells lay scattered alongside the glass.

  Checking the towel he’d handed her, she saw traces of blood. Her blood. What the heck had happened?

  She reached back in her memory, hoping to recall something of the night. Jim Bond arrived while she was on the terrace and waved a search warrant. Myron sang and squawked, so she brought him inside and gave him and the dogs a piece of apple. Jim left to do whatever, and she sent Rudy and T up the rear stairs, and followed Agent 007 to the front of the house.

  She saw light filtering from the hallway and figured he’d gone to the doc’s office first. When she called, he didn’t answer, so she opened her mouth . . .

  And a human steam engine ran her down.

  “Well, crap,” she muttered, dabbing at the lump. Wincing, she laid her head on the back of the chair. If the door had slammed, and she thought it had, how did the dogs get out? And what did Rudy think he was doing? Despite his bravado, he was as inept at catching a burglar as she was.

  She pictured the dark hulking shape that had run at her as if she were invisible.

  Heaving a breath, she held the cool towel to her temple. Jim was right. The lump was big and it hurt. Forget the jackhammer. If she didn’t know better, she’d swear the entire cast of Riverdance was giving a runthrough performance inside her skull.

  She closed her eyes and tried to relax. Moments later something furry landed in her lap.

  A slurp of wet stroked her cheek, and she smiled.

  “Hey, you okay?”

  “I’m fine. Just got run down by some idiot and hit my head. Where were you?”

  Rudy nuzzled against her chest. “T and I were checkin’ out Agent Ass-wipe and we heard a sc
uffle. When we headed down the stairs, we saw a guy run out the door, so we took off after him.”

  “I thought I told you to go straight to bed.”

  He gave her cheek another lick. “Yeah, well, lucky for you that didn’t happen.”

  She ran her free hand down his head and back, then wrapped him in her arm. “Don’t ever scare me like that again, you big knucklehead.”

  “Scare you? How do you think T and I felt when we heard the racket and saw you crumpled on the floor? No guy is gonna do that to my girl and get away with it.”

  “Is Twink here?”

  “Mr. T is ready and waitin’.” The Jack Russell set his paws on her knee. “We would’a caught that fool if he hadn’t taken off in a car.”

  Footsteps sounded in the foyer and she whispered, “We’ll talk later. Hush for now.”

  “Who are you talking to?” asked Jim.

  “Myself. I’ve been trying to piece things together and I think I have a handle on what happened.” She forced a weak smile when he stood in front of her. “Thanks for finding the boys.”

  “They found me.”

  She arched an eyebrow at Rudy and moaned at the pain. “What they’re good at finding is trouble.”

  “My guess is whoever slammed into you left a car running out front. The dogs just missed him, but they chased the car.”

  Jim squatted beside the chair and Mr. T showed his teeth.

  “Keep your distance, fool.”

  She patted his head. “Shh, no talking.”

  Jim pulled back out of striking range. “He’s not talking. He’s growling.” He took her hand and removed the towel from her head. “You’re going to have a mother of a bruise come morning. Give me that and I’ll get more ice. We can go over things when I get back.”

  He left and she patted her thigh, signaling Mr. T. He jumped up next to Rudy and she held both dogs tight. “You two are the best.” She squeezed until they wriggled. “Tell me what you remember, but make it fast.”