by Angi Morgan
“This isn’t official, mind you, but the M.E. noted the subconjunctival hemorrhages before they moved the body.” With the last of her winter wear in place, she lifted her cases and flashed him a smile. “In layman terms, she was strangled.”
He followed her to the front door and held the outer one open, lowering his voice. “Sounds premeditated if they made it look like it happened while walking her dog and then came back here to cook themselves breakfast.”
“Came back is right. They estimated her TOD sometime between eight and eleven last night.”
Premeditated and yet the death wasn’t violent like a lovers’ quarrel. The guy had probably strangled her while she was walking the dog.
Heartless? Had they left the pup to freeze or not killed the dog because they liked animals? Premeditation bugged him. It didn’t fit. The murderer seemed to be waiting around for something—or somebody—after the murder. Had the dog sitter taken them by surprise or had they been lying in wait?
Exactly who had she been running from when he drove up and why had she run when he was upstairs?
“Shirley?” He caught up with her on the front walk. “I need a favor.” Jake handed her his business card. “Can you send the results from the fingerprint search to me? Specifically the one you lifted from the kitchen drawer. That’s my cell.”
“Sure, but I thought Owens said—”
“Yeah, the favor is you’re not going to tell him I know.”
“Oh, that won’t be a problem. So you think we’ll find a match.” Shirley stashed his card in her pocket.
“She was too scared for her knees to work. And there is the fact that she ran without putting on her shoes.” As indicated by two sets of bare footprints that led into the street.
“It would seem so.” Shirley smiled and picked up her case. “I meant to ask, what happened to the dog from this morning?”
“Animal Control showed up this time.” It helped when they were actually called—which he’d done personally. “A kid saw Dallas with me at the park and led me here.”
“That was lucky, then. I hope someone claims her. Big, black dogs don’t get adopted so easily, especially ones with a blind eye. See ya.” She waved and got into her car.
Jake sat in his car. “Blind eye? I couldn’t tell she was half-blind. Dallas is a good pup. Somebody will adopt her.”
The dog deserved someone with a huge yard. Or someone close to a park where she could be trained to catch flying disks or retrieve tennis balls. From the little he’d seen of her interaction with Bree, Dallas had a huge heart. And the loyalty she’d displayed staying with her owner and fighting not to leave her side after she’d been freed, sort of reminded him of his marine brothers.
Would a pup like that get adopted? Or was it amazing she’d been adopted the first time. He’d seen genuine relief on his mystery woman’s face when he’d walked up with Dallas. Call it a hunch or good detective work, but he’d bet his next paycheck that Bree wouldn’t let Dallas stay overnight in the city pound.
Owens and the rest of the responders were out front, walking toward their vehicles. If he was right about the dog sitter showing up to rescue Dallas, he’d obtain the answers to many of his questions. Official case or not, it wouldn’t stop him from finding the murderer.
He’d stared into Brenda Ellen Richardson’s death gaze. He was connected to her. He’d also held a half-frozen dog walker in his arms and hoped somehow he was wrong about why she’d been so dang frightened. And especially wrong about why she’d run away.
After a series of calls, Jake finally got the information he needed and the pound location. He circled through a hamburger joint and dealt with his stomach’s insistence to be fed. Two burgers and twenty minutes later, he parked in the far corner of the parking lot at the Dallas Animal Services and waited.
Late on a Saturday afternoon, there weren’t too many people around. Most of the visitors had a kid or two with them. When a woman driving a really nice ride pulled to a stop, Jake’s attention perked up.
Sure enough, less than fifteen minutes later, she had Dallas on a leash and was loading her into the backseat. Jake didn’t have to tail the woman closely. They were following the path they’d both taken to get there...straight back to White Rock Lake.
And straight back to Bree.
Chapter Five
“Who’s that hunky man? Nice car, but he looks like he wallowed in the snow a couple of times today.” Julie brazenly ogled the detective while handing Dallas’s leash to Sabrina.
The detective from Brenda Ellen’s house? Here? She couldn’t turn to look. Maybe he hadn’t seen her.
Strong hands landed on her shoulders and long fingers locked her in place inches from his chest. “There you are, Bree. Sorry, I’m a little early.”
Oh, shoot. What should she do?
Sabrina hid her surprise as the detective came to her side, tugged her hand from her pocket and locked his fingers with hers. His fingers were warm and his grip secure. His nearness turned her inner thermostat up several degrees. At least he hadn’t shoved her face into the picnic table and slapped cuffs on her.
Detective Craig was being gracious and sparing her the embarrassment of an arrest in front of a friend and employer. Julie was just an employer. The only one home who could go pick up Dallas from the pound. And only after Bree had agreed to look after her dogs without charge once.
“Oh, hi, I’m Julie Butler,” she bubbled. “No wonder you didn’t mind the cold, Bree. Having such a nice guy to warm you back up.”
“Sorry to rush you two, but we should probably get going,” he said. “Got to run by my place for some different duds.”
Sabrina caught a glimpse of his free hand pointing at his mud-stained pants.
“You two are going out. That’s good. Bree shouldn’t be alone tonight. Did she tell you Brenda Ellen was murdered?”
“Yes, I was the first person she spoke to about it.” He patted her hand. “You’re like ice, Bree. We need to get you in front of the car heater.”
She’d let him know just how inappropriate he was behaving. Later. Right now, she was grateful not to say another word.
“I should get her home.” He kept her hand firmly sealed in his, anchoring her in place.
“Terrible about Brenda Ellen. I’ll never feel safe out here again. But Bree, dear, you promised to give me all the details if I picked up Dallas for you.” Julie emphasized her fright by dropping her hand across her rather large breasts.
“Another time,” the detective said.
“We’ll see you in two weeks to sit with the dogs. We’re gone four nights and you can bring Dallas with you to the house. If you need to, that is.”
“Thanks for picking her up, Julie.”
“Ta-ta for now.”
Another of her house-sitting jobs walked away. Sabrina acknowledged it would probably be the last time she saw her. If she got away from the police, she’d have to leave all the dogs she worked with.
“Should I thank you, Detective? Or demand a lawyer? Very clever of you to track me down through Dallas. How did you know I wouldn’t leave her in the pound?”
“I have to admit I was stuck the first couple of hours, thinking more about what would make you run from the police. But the forensics analyst said black dogs were less likely to be adopted. Then she mentioned the pup was blind in one eye—totally missed that. She seems normal enough.”
“She is,” she said, defending the puppy.
“I didn’t think you’d risk an adoption. Care to answer a couple of questions before we call a lawyer?”
“Well, as you can see, I’m extremely busy right now.” She pointed to Dallas, who was doing her best to get off the cold ground. Her scrambling included jumping and slapping her large front paws against Bree’s chest.
“Bus
y leaving?” He pointed to the suitcase just inside a row of bushes.
“Oh, I haven’t been home yet. I needed to wait close by for Julie.”
“And is home close, since you seem to be walking everywhere? Wait, you ran away five hours ago and haven’t made it home and couldn’t wait it out at the diner. They put an officer on the place. So you really are cold. I’ll be glad to give you a lift so we can chat where it’s warm or we could just head directly to see my captain.”
“I’m sure we can clear this up right here.” She sat at the picnic table, where she’d been waiting since Julie texted.
“I need to see your ID.” He extended a hand from the end of the table.
She felt like Jack facing the giant in the fairy tale. “I, um, I lost it about three weeks ago.”
“No driver’s license? Convenient. Can you remember the number? Or let’s try a simple question. One not too taxing on your elusive memory. What’s your real name?” He crossed his arms, acting as if he didn’t expect a real answer. “Think you can manage that?”
She had barely met him this morning, but she could already tell that the slight curve of the left side of his mouth meant trouble.
“I beg your pardon?”
“Beg all you want, but until I find out who you are—” he paused, digging into his back pocket and then swinging a pair of handcuffs on the tips of two fingers “—you’re under arrest.”
“For what?” Of course she knew, suspicion of murder, fleeing a crime scene, impeding an investigation. They’d pile on the charges and detain her. Then they’d find out that everyone she cared about in Amarillo thought she was dead. As soon as the police discovered she wasn’t, she’d be charged with the murder of whoever was in the clinic fire. And she shouldn’t forget about the embezzling and fraud charges that would be sure to follow.
Yes, she knew the answer to her own question...even if this cute detective didn’t.
“Fleeing the scene will get us started. I’m certain you’re wanted for something, since you’re pretty good at avoiding your real name.” He gestured for her to hold out her hands to be cuffed. “You know we’re going to find out from the prints. Right?”
She held both her hands in front of her, hoping they’d be loosely snapped over her thick gloves. No such luck. He pulled the black fur down, his thumb caressing her pulse.
Did he feel her heart racing?
He took the leash, put a hand on her head and guided her into the backseat of his car. He pulled the shoulder strap and buckled her inside, then gave Dallas a kiss-kiss sound and a gentle tug on her leash. The big, smiling Lab jumped across her, did a couple of turns and settled her head in Bree’s lap.
“I hate to ask, but could you get my suitcase? It’s on the other side of the bushes.”
“Yeah, I saw it.”
The door shut, the locks clicked and she was alone while the detective retrieved her stuff. As soon as his back was turned, she tried the door.
Childproof locks. She was stuck. Caught. Going to jail. She stroked Dallas’s soft fur, loving the comforting companionship. Somehow she just didn’t feel alone when the dog was around.
“Well, girl, I’m not certain what’s going to happen now. It breaks my heart to send you back to the pound.”
Dallas answered with a sweet sound just like she understood and was commiserating. Brenda Ellen had adopted Dallas four months ago and, honestly, probably never should have. The businesswoman traveled almost twice a month and was gone at least a week for each trip. “I’ve spent more time with you than she did. Isn’t that right, sweetheart?”
Sabrina dropped her cheek to the top of Dallas’s head. She was such a loving dog. The trunk opened and closed. It was time to explain everything to Detective Jake Craig. He was her last hope.
“Any chance you’re as hungry as I am?” she asked when he was inside the car and had adjusted the rearview mirror to see her.
“I grabbed a burger across the street from the pound while following your friend.”
“Oh.”
That new look crossing his face lifted one side of his tightly closed mouth, but it clearly indicated pity. She’d learned to recognize it very quickly, hating each time she’d received it over the past six months. But today, right this very minute, it seemed like a sign that her story may not fall on deaf ears.
“I’ve got some cold fries.” He held them out, his long arm extending over Dallas’s head.
“Thanks.” She shifted her position and held her hands out to take the carton. “Maybe this will keep my stomach from grumbling.”
“You should be glad I’ve got you in custody.”
“You think I should be glad to be on my way to jail?” She hated the prospect of being framed and having no one on her side trying to discover the truth.
“Who said anything about jail? Right now I just want some questions answered.”
When her family was notified she was alive, they’d be bombarded with questions and accusations, too. They’d only be happy for a moment, learning to hate her very quickly. They’d believe if she could lie about her death, she could lie about a murder.
They’d match her prints since they were on file with the state because of her business. He’d be questioning her right up until they discovered she was a dead woman. But she wasn’t—Brenda Ellen was. How had things gotten so out of control?
“Couldn’t I just answer your questions here?” she asked, hoping.
She gulped. The dry, cold fry didn’t want to go down.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” He draped his arm across the seat and stared. Stared straight into her eyes without blinking, without darting those hypnotic deep brown spheres anywhere else. “See, I know your secret, Bree.”
This man did something to her. Stirred something she hadn’t ever experienced before and couldn’t name. Roughly along the lines of instant trust, because he was gaining intimate knowledge without any words. If he searched her inside as deeply as his stare indicated he would, what would he find? An innocent woman had died because of her, didn’t that make her guilty now?
She swallowed hard, needing to break the silent interrogation he’d begun. “So you know I love working as a dog walker and moonlight as a serial killer?”
“You’re a funny gal.” He turned the key and faced her again after putting the car in Reverse. “I know that Brenda Ellen Richardson wasn’t the intended victim. You were.”
Chapter Six
The silence in the backseat surprised him. Jake expected lots of tears from those magnificent amethyst eyes. Along with a healthy dose of denial and persuasive words attempting to get him to release her.
Dallas whined and nudged the fry container from Bree’s lap so she could drop her head there. A moment later Bree buried her face in the pup’s fur and he heard a few long intakes of breath as she slowed the tears to a stop.
“I probably shouldn’t have sprung it on you like that,” he admitted, but gauging her reaction had seemed important. Not so much now.
She wiped both her eyes with the edge of her coat sleeve. “Oh, my gosh, stop being so nice to me and let’s just get this done. Haul me to jail so I can tell them everything.”
Another unusual reaction.
“Why don’t we just start with your real name?”
“It’s Bree.”
“Do you know who’s after you?”
“Can’t we just go to the police station, Detective? I don’t think the man who killed Brenda Ellen is going to give up as easily as the rest of the police.”
“You’re with me now and only ten minutes away from a holding cell. I think you’re safe enough.” Jake put the car into gear and pulled away from the curb. “I’ve got a hunch you’re running from someone. I can help, Bree.”
“I know you think you can, De
tective. But I seriously doubt you will. I don’t think anyone will believe me.”
Something twisted in Jake’s gut. How many times had he said those words to himself? Why bother explaining what had happened when no one was going to believe him. He’d been convicted without a trial by his family, but he hadn’t put up a defense, either.
“Why don’t you try me?”
Bree’s eyes came to life when they met his in the mirror. He could see the indecision and decided to listen. He turned off the main road and pulled into another parking lot north of the boat ramps, facing the water that was calm after the snowfall the night before.
“I don’t know how to start.”
“I’d say the beginning. We might need to go for the short version and who’s trying to kill you.”
She shook her head. “That’s just it. I don’t know who. They tried to kill me in Amarillo and instead I took something they want back.”
“Drugs?”
“No. At least I don’t think it’s about drugs. I grabbed a list of names and money.”
“Where is it now?”
“You see, they were trying to frame me for embezzlement. I don’t know how or why except that the man who ordered my death said there was no choice, that it was a direct order from the higher-ups. I grabbed the briefcase and ran.”
Still keeping him at arm’s length. He knew she’d deliberately not told him everything. He could hear the hesitation in her voice and recognized the deliberate selection of her words.
“How long ago was this?”
“Six very long months.” She sighed and looked out the window.
“And how come they haven’t found you before now? And why now?”
“I’ve been working as a house and pet sitter. Personal recommendations and referrals, so I don’t actually work for a company.”
“Off the grid. So how did they find you?”
“I’ve been trying to find the ‘higher-ups’ and have spent a lot of time searching on Brenda Ellen’s computer.”
Tears again. He was glad there was a seat between them. If there hadn’t been, he’d probably have an arm around her shoulders or he’d be patting her back, attempting to comfort. He could relate. He’d been there. Responsible. Blaming himself. Wondering what he could have done differently.