The Sierra Files Box Set: Books 1-3: Plus a bonus Christmas novella!

by Christy Barritt

  Thank goodness Big Boy had stopped howling, because the sound chilled me to the bone. Dogs had that instinct to know when bad things happened. If only Big Boy could talk now, maybe there wouldn’t be so many questions.

  As the police worked the scene, I stood back on the sidewalk watching everything. That’s when I spotted a familiar figure walking down the lane.

  My sister.

  Her eyes widened when she saw the police cars. By the time she reached us, she looked overly concerned. “I heard the commotion at the end of the street. Mom and Dad sent me to make sure everything was okay.”

  Of course, Mom and Dad didn’t come themselves, so they weren’t that worried. I cast aside those thoughts. I couldn’t live in bitterness and resentment. And, what I already had of those emotions, I had to channel into protecting the rights of neglected and abused animals.

  That was the key. Using the negative in your life for good. For me, that translated into taking forgotten animals and loving on them. Stopping circuses from treating animals like objects. Preventing pet stores from seeing furry creatures as a means to make profit—whatever the cost.

  “Apparently, this is where Big Boy lives,” I told Reina. “The door was open when we got here, and we found blood.”

  “You’re traumatized, aren’t you?” She leaned down and rubbed the dog’s head. “He really likes you, Sierra. You’ve always been an animal magnet.”

  “Poor thing is sad right now.” I frowned at the dog, wishing I could speak to him and that my words would make sense enough to ease his troubled heart. “He knows.”

  Just then, an oversized SUV that could have been part of the presidential motorcade screeched in front of the house. A man in his forties stormed toward the crowd on the lawn. He had thinning brown hair, narrow shoulders, and a slightly hooked nose. His button-up shirt and loose-fitting tie seemed to indicate he’d been working.

  “What is going on here?” he demanded. His voice sounded too high and soft for him to be scary. But he did appear to be wound up like a snake about to strike.

  The detective stepped out of the crowd. “Sir, who are you?”

  “I live here! I’m Reggie Lennox. Someone tell me what’s going on.”

  “Mr. Lennox, we found blood leading down your driveway, and a concerned neighbor called the police.”

  “A concerned neighbor? None of my neighbors have ever cared anything about me, except if I let my grass grow too long!” Veins bulged at his temples, and his eyes looked wide enough to pop out.

  Big Boy remained by my side. I made a mental note that he wasn’t running toward his owner as most dogs would.

  “Do you have any idea how the blood got here?” Detective Meadows continued, pointing toward the red drops on the ground.

  “That?” His voice rose like an angry hyena, and he pointed to his face. “I got a nosebleed. I decided to go to the store and get some more vitamin C. It seems to work for me whenever I have this problem.”

  I remembered the dots of blood. Perhaps they were small enough for a nosebleed. Had all of this been a huge misunderstanding? One that I instigated, at that?

  “I’m sorry that you had to waste the police department’s valuable resources and time, but you can all leave now,” Mr. Lennox continued. “I’ve got to get back to work.”

  “We just have a few more questions. Does anyone live here with you, Mr. Lennox?” Detective Meadows continued.

  He stopped and sighed, making it clear that we were a big nuisance to him. “Yes, my wife. But she’s out of town on business.”

  “When will she return?”

  “Not until next week.”

  “What’s the nature of her business?”

  “She’s at a trade show this week in Atlanta. She works in public relations.” He glanced at his watch. “Any more questions, because I’ve got a phone conference in five minutes, and I can’t be late.”

  “We’re sorry to have disturbed you,” the detective said. “Please, carry on.”

  The man stormed inside and slammed his front door. Just as Detective Meadows began walking toward the police sedan, I stepped forward. “Detective?”

  She paused and turned to look at me. “Yes?”

  “Aren’t you going to collect any evidence?”

  She shook her head. “There hasn’t been a crime here.”

  “How can you be so sure?”

  “A little blood isn’t indicative that something bad happened, Mrs. Davis.”

  Crud! The officer had used my married name. I glanced back at my sister, hoping she hadn’t heard it.

  Of course she had. She stared at me now, her eyes wide. She was no dummy, so I had no doubt she’d put things together. I’d worry about that in a minute.

  “You’re just going to take his word for it?” I continued.

  The detective shifted, obviously annoyed. “What do you suggest?”

  “I’d make sure that blood is really his.”

  “There’s no probable cause.”

  “Sure there is.” I pointed to Big Boy. “He howled.”

  “And that proves . . . ?”

  “Dogs can sense death.” I thought everyone knew that.

  She stared at me like I’d lost my mind. “I think you’re reading too much into this.”

  “I don’t think you’re reading enough into this,” I argued back.

  Chad took my arm and pulled me back.

  “Thanks for coming out,” he said to Detective Meadows, a calm, professional tone to his voice. “We appreciate all you’ve done.”

  Before I could say anything else, he nudged me away.

  “What are you doing?” I asked him, desperately wanting to finish my conversation with the detective.

  “I’m trying to keep you from being arrested,” he whispered.

  “Arrested? Why would she arrest me? She needs to arrest that man.”

  “The detective is right. There’s no evidence that something is wrong. People hurt themselves all the time. Just because there’s blood on the ground doesn’t mean a crime occurred. And if you keep being pushy with the detective, she’s going to have you in her sights.”

  Begrudgingly, I nodded. “Fine.”

  But in my head, nothing was fine.

  Chapter Three

  As the police pulled away, I looked down at Big Boy and frowned. “I guess his people companion wasn’t in a hurry to get this lovable furball inside. Mr. Lennox didn’t even ask what we were doing with him.”

  Chad reached for him. “I’ll take him to Mr. Lennox.”

  “He’s on a conference call.” My grip instinctively tightened on the leash.

  “He’s not our dog, Sierra,” Chad reminded me sternly.

  “But the man obviously doesn’t care about him.” My voice rose with conviction. “When you care about something or someone, you just don’t leave them panting outside with strangers.”

  “Chad, make a mental note to never leave Sierra in the yard without any water,” my sister said with a touch of amusement in her voice.

  I dropped my head toward my shoulder, hoping to look no-nonsense. “You know what I mean.”

  “If we take the dog back to your parents, it would be like stealing—or dognapping, for that matter,” Chad reminded me, saying each word slowly. “We can’t do that.”

  “Besides, Mom and Dad hate dogs. You know that,” Reina reminded me.

  Part of me wanted to cross my arms and pout. But I knew that wouldn’t get me anywhere. The idea of animals being mistreated brought out all different sides of my personality—from the aggressive side to the juvenile. Really, on average, I was an even-keeled person who’d graduated at the top of my class from Yale.

  “Okay,” I finally said. Reluctantly, I handed over Big Boy to Chad. Before Chad pulled him away, I leaned down until I was nose to wet nose with the dog. “You take care of yourself, okay?”

  Big Boy whined and licked my cheek. Chad tugged at the leash. I frowned before releasing the dog. I had to look away as
Chad climbed the porch steps.

  My sister leaned closer. “Did that detective call you Mrs. Davis?”

  I shrugged, my attention turning to my other problems for a moment. “Maybe.”

  “Why would she do that?” She raised an eyebrow.

  “I may have . . .” I wanted to take the easy road and mumble a response she wouldn’t understand. Instead, I blurted, “. . . gotten married.”

  I pressed my lips together as I waited for her response.

  “You didn’t tell Mom and Dad?” my sister hissed, her eyes wide.

  “I haven’t yet, and you can’t tell them either. I’m waiting for just the right moment.”

  “That’s usually before you say ‘I do.’ That’s the right moment.”

  I narrowed my eyes. “I know. I know. But—” I glanced back at Chad and lowered my voice. “You know Mom and Dad.”

  She nodded adamantly. “Yes, I sure do. And when you finally tell them, it’s not going to be good. And what about Greg? You don’t think he’s here by accident, do you? This is not good!”

  She didn’t have to tell me that. I already knew. “I’ll handle it. Just promise me you’ll stay quiet.”

  “You know I can’t lie.” She crossed her arms.

  My sister was Mrs. Prim-and-Proper, straight and narrow, black and white.

  “I’m not asking you to lie. I’m just asking you to avoid this subject. It’s not like Mom and Dad will ask out of the blue if Chad and I are married.”

  Reina scowled but finally nodded. “I’ll do my best to stay quiet. I don’t like this, though.”

  Our attention was drawn to the front door. Reggie Lennox didn’t look too happy with Chad. “I’m on a conference call. Do you understand what that is, surfer boy?”

  “Look, I thought you might want your dog back.” Chad’s shoulders tensed.

  Reggie narrowed his eyes at the dog. “How’d you get your hands on him, anyway?”

  “He was roaming the street.”

  “Oh.” Mr. Lennox snatched the leash. “I suppose this is where I should say thank you.”

  He pulled the dog inside and slammed the door.

  More than anything, I wanted to run up to the door and take Big Boy back. But that wasn’t a possibility. Well, it was, but I’d be arrested. That really would make an impression on my parents, wouldn’t it?

  “That man has anger management issues,” Chad muttered as he cut across the lawn to meet us.

  I kept my eye on the door. “I agree.”

  Just then, Big Boy appeared in the window. He barked as he watched us walk down the street.

  “I feel awful leaving him,” I said, unable to pull my gaze away.

  Chad squeezed my hand but said nothing.

  “Rehearsal dinner starts in an hour and a half,” Reina reminded us. “Why don’t you think about the dog after that?”

  “I just don’t buy that man’s story,” I mumbled, barely hearing my sister.

  “But what can you do?” Chad asked. “You have to leave it to the police. You have to trust that they know how to do their jobs.”

  “I suppose.”

  But I often found that if I wanted something done right, I had to do it myself.

  An hour later, I stepped from my bedroom, freshly showered and focused again on honoring my parents this weekend. My stomach still seemed a bit queasy despite willing myself to relax.

  After Chad and I had returned, we unloaded the suitcases from the van. Mother had ordered Chad to follow her after instructing me that I’d been assigned to my childhood bedroom. I made a quick stop in the kitchen to drop off some vegan food items like soy cheese and black bean burgers that I’d brought along, just to make sure I had something to eat while here.

  After showering, I waited to meet Chad in the upstairs hallway. The place had always reminded me of a museum corridor with all its fancy pictures with gold frames, freshly waxed trim, and intricately designed carpet. I straightened my wine-colored dress for rehearsal dinner, wondering if I had put an extra pound or two onto my petite frame. Maybe Aunt Yori was right.

  I saw Chad approaching on the other side of the hallway, only he didn’t come from the direction of one of the bedrooms on that side of the house, near Ms. Blankenship’s quarters. He approached me from the bottom of the staircase, looking none too happy.

  “Different rooms I would have understood. But the guesthouse? Really, Sierra?” Chad whispered as we met in the hallway.

  I straightened Chad’s ocean-blue tie. “It’s a delicate situation.” I didn’t add that I was certain the placement was a calculated move on my mom’s part.

  “I guess so, because I’ve never seen you so insecure. You’re Mrs. I Know What I Want. Being around your family makes you jumpier than a bunch of monkeys at a slumber party.”

  “When you’re around people who don’t believe in you and whom you’ve severely disappointed with your life choices, it’s easy to get that way.” It was meant to sound light. Instead, I feared I sounded pathetic and a little too exposed.

  He rubbed my arms. “Well, I miss my old Sierra. The one who’s not afraid of anything, but who has a heart of gold. She’s smart, beautiful, and concerned about the world around her.”

  “That’s me.” My voice lacked conviction at the moment.

  He shook his head. “I don’t know. I think that Sierra took a vacation somewhere else. Hawaii, maybe. But she’s not here in Connecticut.”

  “I’d much rather be in Hawaii.”

  “Meanwhile, I’m sleeping in the other wing while my wife sleeps amongst her old dolls and stuffed animals.”

  I placed my hand on his chest. “We’ll survive for the weekend. You look handsome, by the way.”

  “You always look beautiful.” He leaned down to kiss me when I heard a footfall down the hall.

  We both straightened when we spotted my tiger mom walking our way. Her gaze flickered from Chad to me, and I instantly stepped away from my husband.

  “You look nice, Mother.” My voice took on a much more proper tone than usual.

  And she did. She wore a silk pale pink number that accentuated her slim figure. She nodded stiffly. “Sierra. Chad. You both clean up nicely. Are you ready to run through the ceremony downstairs?”

  I nodded. “Of course. Can’t wait.”

  “I can’t wait. Please use complete sentences, Sierra. I feel the need to repeat myself. Virginia has been a bad influence on you. Do people not speak properly down there?”

  “Yes, they speak properly, Mother. With people I know well, I usually let down my guard and speak more casually.” Mistake!

  “We raised you better than that. Always put your best foot forward. Always.” Her bristly gaze latched onto mine.

  I held my chin up higher and stole a glance at Chad. His eyes were wide in astonishment. My mom could shake up even the most laid-back person.

  We followed her downstairs, Chad attempting to make polite—and proper—conversation about how nice her house was, how beautiful the autumn leaves were, and how grateful he was to be a part of this weekend. Finally, we reached the backyard.

  Rows of white chairs had been set up there in anticipation of tomorrow’s event. A priest stood in the stage area, which was framed with a white pergola. White tulle was tucked between various eaves and nooks. Whether I wanted to admit it or not, the ceremony was going to be lovely. Even if my parents had chosen to release monarch butterflies at the end of it. I knew for a fact that hundreds of the insects, which had been delivered earlier, were sitting on ice packs in the garage at the moment, in a state of frozen limbo. Talk about cruel and inhumane.

  But I needed to honor my parents. I had to keep reminding myself of that. This weekend was about them, not me.

  As I paused at the edge of the deck, a woman with a pale blue suit who wore her brown hair in a French twist and carried a clipboard under her arm approached me. The wedding planner. It seemed like I’d heard her name earlier as I’d been ushered inside the house with my luggag
e, but I couldn’t remember it for the life of me.

  Charo or something crazy? She looked like a Charo with her big hair, tight “business” suit, painfully high heels, and overdone makeup.

  “I’m Sierra,” I told her.

  She held out a limp hand. “Pleasure. I’m Charo.”

  “Charo?” I clarified.

  “No, Sharo, with an S.”

  I felt like I’d just shaken hands with a jellyfish. Where did my mom and dad find this lady?

  She tugged on my dress at the waistline. “You know, with a little altering, this would be a lot more flattering.”

  I looked down at my knee-length gown. “I think it fits pretty well.”

  “Trust me, you should show off your curves more. Especially if you want to get the guys.” She raised her eyebrows suggestively.

  “I’ll keep that in mind.” I wouldn’t be having my dress altered, despite what she said.

  “I used to be in fashion, so I know a thing or two about the way clothing should fit.”

  “Good to know.”

  “Isn’t it?” She grinned and glanced at her watch. “Okay, it looks like it’s showtime.” As quickly as she’d begun the conversation, she turned and clapped her hands. “All right, everyone in place!”

  I took my spot next to my sister on the stage area while Chad sat in the audience.

  While Sharo shouted instructions, I glanced around. Even in the autumn, the grass looked thick and green. Woods stood like a guard at the back of the property, the trees glorious shades of red, orange, and yellow. White pickets lined the perimeter, while privacy fences bordered the yard next to the neighbors’.

  A small guesthouse was to the left, beside a soaking pool, complete with a waterfall cascading into it. In the side yard, my parents had Japanese maple trees, a small bridge, and a reflection pond, all beautifully maintained.

  “How are we being seated?” Aunt Yori asked a little too loudly. She stood in the center of the aisle, squinting against the sun at everyone onstage.

  Sharo paused, looking flustered for a moment. “What do you mean?”