Under the Dog Star: A Rachel Goddard Mystery #4 (Rachel Goddard Mysteries)

by Parshall, Sandra

  She stood rigid in his arms, but he didn’t let her go. After a couple of minutes she felt calmer and stepped away from him. She sat at the table, her head in her hands. “I’m all right. I’m sorry.”

  He sat across from her and held out a hand. He withdrew it when she didn’t respond. You’re going to drive him away, Rachel told herself, the truth of it cutting like a knife. He’ll give up trying to get through to you.

  “Listen,” Tom said, “I’ll find out what the situation is. I’ll do what I can. One thing Vicky Hall needs is a real nurse taking care of her. I don’t think Rayanne Stuckey’s capable of judging when she needs emergency care.”

  Rachel pulled in a deep breath and tried to speak in a level voice, a sane voice. “She doesn’t have any health care training, does she? Why is she working there in the first place?”

  “I think she was hired as a housekeeper and a driver, but now she seems to be taking care of Vicky full-time. She—” Tom broke off, his mouth still open, and an expression of amazement came over his face. “My god. Why didn’t I realize—”

  He pushed his chair back from the table and stood.

  “Realize what?” Rachel asked, looking up at him. “Tom?”

  “Gotta get to headquarters.” He gave her a quick kiss. “Come on, Billy Bob. You’re with me today.”

  Then he was out the door with the bulldog on his heels.

  Frank jumped into Tom’s chair.

  “What awful thing’s going to happen next?” Rachel wondered aloud.

  The cat started eating the leftover scrambled eggs on Tom’s plate.

  ***

  “Burt Morgan’s girlfriend is Rayanne Stuckey’s cousin.” Tom dropped into the chair next to Dennis Murray’s desk in the squad room. “The connection was staring us right in the face and we didn’t see it.”

  Dennis considered this for a moment while he sipped coffee from a mug with World’s Best Dad printed on it. Steam rising from the coffee clouded the bottom halves of his glasses. “So Morgan told Sylvia about the raid, and Sylvia told Rayanne, and Rayanne told—who?”

  “Who do you think?” Tom said. “She’s living with Leo Riggs.”

  “So you reckon Riggs is mixed up in the dogfighting?”

  “I wouldn’t be the least bit surprised,” Tom said. “He always seems to be working one angle or another. It’s hard to know what’s really going on in his head. He strikes me as somebody who’s so used to lying he does it automatically, whether it’s called for or not.”

  “But I thought Burt’s girlfriend was so set against dogfighting that she made him promise to stay away from it. Why would she want to protect the people doing it?”

  “She was probably just confiding in her cousin,” Tom said, “worrying aloud about somebody going after Burt for helping the cops. I’ll bet she has no idea Leo’s involved.”

  “If he’s involved,” Dennis said.

  “Yeah. But this theory feels right to me. We’re on the right track. I feel it in my gut.”

  “What about Hall’s death?” Dennis asked. “You think Leo had something to do with that?”

  Tom thought for a moment, trying to round up all of Leo’s connections to the Halls and his possible grievances. “He claims he’s okay with the Halls adopting his sister’s kids. And he got a big chunk of money from them to open his garage. But he was quick to tell me he didn’t sell Jewel’s kids.”

  “Yeah, right,” Dennis said. “It was just a coincidence the Halls were feeling generous about helping out a small businessman around the same time the kids were up for grabs.”

  Unable to sit still, his nerves thrumming, Tom rose and paced back and forth. “There’s no doubt Leo milked the situation for all he could get, but nobody in the Riggs family wanted Jewel’s children.”

  “And their real father and his folks never made any legal claim to them,” Dennis said.

  Tom stopped and stared out the window, barely seeing the cars in the parking lot, the gaudy leaves that littered the pavement. In his mind he sorted through chunks of information, trying and failing to make them fit together to form a coherent whole. “There’s something going on here that we don’t know about, maybe something that hasn’t even occurred to us.”

  Dennis laughed. “Isn’t that usually the case? Anytime we start out with all the information we need, we don’t have much work left to do.”

  Tom turned back to Dennis. “We need solid proof. I haven’t come across anything yet that made me think Leo was involved in dogfighting. If he’s got an operation set up somewhere, it’s well hidden. And all the history between the Riggs family and the Halls doesn’t prove a thing about Gordon Hall’s death. A lot of people had bad history with him. The fact that Burt Morgan’s girlfriend and Leo’s girlfriend are cousins doesn’t prove Leo’s involved in dogfighting, either. That’s a big leap.”

  “But we’ve got an awful lot of coincidences involving one guy,” Dennis pointed out. “If you ask me, it all points straight at him.”

  “Yeah, it does. Maybe our guest over at the jail can give us something that’ll lead to solid proof.”

  ***

  The jail, located behind the courthouse and adjacent to the sheriff’s headquarters, was a short walk away through a connecting passage. When Tom and Dennis opened the door into the jail’s entrance lobby, they found Beck Rasey and Beth Hall arguing at the front desk. The jailer, a retired deputy with a completely bald head, flung a hand in Tom’s direction and said, “Take it up with the captain or move it outside. I’m not listening to any more of this.”

  “What are you doing here, Beth?” Tom asked.

  “She’s trying to get to my son,” Beck blurted before the girl could answer. A flush of anger darkened his face. “I don’t want her anywhere near him. She’s the reason he’s acting up in the first place.”

  “You don’t know what you’re talking about!” Beth cried. “We love each other.”

  “What do you know about love, little girl? Get back in your fancy car and go back to your fancy house and stay clear of my son.”

  Beth focused her ire on Tom. “He’s here, isn’t he? You locked him in a cage like an animal. You had no right. He didn’t do anything. It was me, okay? I set your house on fire, not Pete, I swear it. I’ll plead guilty if you’ll let him go.”

  Tom frowned at her, wondering what on earth made this girl so willing to throw her life away for the likes of Pete Rasey. “He’s not getting out, not for a while, and you’re not getting in to see him, so you might as well go home. I’ll be over there to talk to you later. Right now, you ought to be with your family. You’ve lost your father, your sister’s been in a serious accident—your mother needs you now.”

  “Yeah, sure. It’ll be the first time she ever needed me.” Beth pivoted and marched to the door. Before leaving, she threw a contemptuous glance over her shoulder and said, “For your information, my car’s not fancy. It’s a Camry.”

  Beck looked like he wanted to go after her and throttle her. Watching the door swing shut, Tom wondered again if Beth had slit Soo Jin’s tires in a fit of pique because the older girl insulted Pete. The thought of wading back into the primordial ooze that made up the Hall family relationships wearied him, but he had no choice. He had to get to the bottom of all this.

  “Look,” Beck said, “Babs and I stayed up the rest of the night figuring out what to do about this mess. Before we get a lawyer involved and he tells Pete not to cooperate—you know that’s what a lawyer will tell him—”

  “Probably,” Tom said. This sounded promising. He waited for Beck to go on.

  “I want another chance to talk some sense into him.”

  “I don’t know if it’s safe to let you in the same room with him.”

  “I know, I know.” Beck ran a hand over his buzz-cut hair. “I lost my temper. Babs did too. It just took us by surprise. But we decided the best thing for Pete to do is tell you what he knows, if it’ll make a difference in the charges you bring against him. If he levels
with you, would you give him a break, considering he’s never been in trouble before?”

  Never been in trouble before? Pete didn’t have a record of criminal charges, but he hadn’t been an angel either. Technically, though, Beck was right. “Depends on what he tells me,” Tom said. “How honest he is.”

  “If he tells you everything he knows—”

  Which he’s not likely to do, Tom thought.

  “—could you see your way clear to go a little easy on him?”

  “Beck, despite what Beth says, your boy set my house on fire while Rachel Goddard was inside. He could have killed her. That’s a little hard to overlook.”

  “I know it is.” Beck stood with his hands on his hips, his gaze on the floor. “I don’t know if I could, in your shoes.”

  Tom let a minute pass in silence. He could hear Beck’s breathing, in and out, sounding as if he’d just run a couple of miles. At last Tom said, “I’ll tell you what. If he gives up the dogfighters, tells me who’s running the fights, where the next fight’s going to be, and anything else he knows about it, I’ll see what I can do to help him. I can’t wipe the slate clean. He’s going to have to pay a price for what he’s done. But if you and Babs want to keep your son out of state prison, I can do that for you—if I’m satisfied with what he gives me.”

  Beck let out a rush of air and nodded vigorously. “That’d be a load of worry off our minds. I appreciate this, Tom.”

  “Don’t thank me yet. We still have to get Pete to talk.”

  Chapter Thirty-two

  Rachel slowed as she approached the roadside mailbox with the name Sullivan printed on the side. Dr. Jim Sullivan’s small frame house, set back from the road about fifty feet, had the slightly run-down air of a place whose owner had recently lost interest in it. The white paint looked in good condition, but a long black streak below the gutter indicated an untended leak. Autumn leaves from several oaks and maples lay deep on the lawn and covered half the roof.

  No vehicle in the driveway, no lights on in the house. Sullivan must be out making his farm rounds. Rachel drove on.

  What am I doing here? More to the point, how was she going to snoop on Sullivan and find out whether he had a connection to the dogfighting operation? She would have to shadow him night and day to learn anything. I’m probably just imagining things, she told herself as she turned onto the road that would take her to the Hall house. Why would a vet get involved in dogfighting?

  She’d wasted time with her detour past Sullivan’s house, and she would have to rush through her visit to Thor, but she hoped she’d get a chance to see Marcy while she was there. Were the kids back in school yet, or were they being kept at home until after Gordon Hall’s funeral? Rachel wondered if anybody was running the Hall household now. Vicky Hall was in no condition to do it. Were the kids fending for themselves?

  A glum-faced Ethan let her into the house without so much as a perfunctory greeting.

  Standing in the foyer with no idea where to go next, Rachel asked, “Where is Thor?”

  “Dad’s office,” Ethan said, hooking a thumb toward the back of the house. He started up the stairs.

  “Ethan, wait.” When he stopped and looked down at her, Rachel asked, “I’d like to speak to your mother. Could she—”

  “No,” Rayanne said from behind Rachel.

  Startled, Rachel turned to find the woman no more than three feet away. She hadn’t heard Rayanne approach. Stepping back to a more comfortable distance, Rachel addressed Ethan again. “I’d like to speak to your mother about Thor’s care. Would you let her know, please?”

  “She’s not seein’ any company,” Rayanne said.

  Rachel looked from Rayanne to Ethan, her brows raised quizzically.

  Clutching the stair railing with a white-knuckled hand, Ethan didn’t respond with the decisiveness Rachel expected. As Mrs. Hall’s adult son, he should be the one acting on her behalf, but he looked at his mother’s employee as if she were in charge.

  Rachel stepped closer to him. “Ethan, is your mother all right?”

  “She’s got people takin’ good care of her,” Rayanne said. “It’s not anything for you to worry about.” She moved forward as if trying to get between Rachel and Ethan, but Rachel stood too close to the stairs for Rayanne to edge her way in.

  “I’ll tell her you want to talk to her,” Ethan said. He mounted the stairs without looking back.

  Two red spots burned on Rayanne’s cheeks as she watched Ethan go, and her pinched mouth showed her displeasure.

  Rachel took advantage of Rayanne’s distraction to head down the hallway toward the office. She heard Rayanne’s footfalls behind her but didn’t look back. Once in the office, she shut the door without bothering to check whether she was closing it in Rayanne’s face.

  Thor, stretched out on his bed, lifted his head and thumped his tail as Rachel approached. At one end of the sofa sat Marcy, her legs tucked under her, so unobtrusive that Rachel hadn’t noticed her at first.

  “Hi,” Marcy said in a whisper. Her gaze met Rachel’s for a second before darting away.

  “Hi. How are you, Marcy?”

  “We’re gonna have a funeral.”

  Rachel stooped and scratched Thor’s ears. “Are you staying out of school until then?”

  “Yeah, I guess. I’ve been studying, though. I don’t want to get way behind.”

  “Good for you. I’m sure you’ll be glad you did that.” Opening her bag, Rachel debated how deeply she could pry into what was going on in this household. She had a feeling Rayanne was listening at the door, and anything Rachel said to Marcy could be used to cause an unpleasant scene.

  They didn’t speak while Rachel examined Thor’s wounds and changed the dressing on his neck. When she was finished, she sat on the couch next to Marcy. “He’s healing very well. I don’t think we have to worry about him.” Dropping her voice, she asked, “Is there anything you want to tell me about?”

  The girl hesitated, chewing her lip and picking at the seam of her jeans leg.

  Rachel spoke in a whisper. “What is it, Marcy?”

  “David says our mom’s gonna die. This mom, I mean.” Marcy’s voice was so faint that Rachel had to lean within inches to catch her words.

  “David doesn’t know that for sure. Nobody does.” Rachel clasped one of Marcy’s hands. “But I know you’re scared. I don’t blame you.”

  “He says when she dies we’ll go live with our real dad, because nobody here wants us.” Marcy screwed up her face in an effort to hold back tears. “David remembers him but I don’t. Our real daddy. He never wanted us before. What if he’s mean to us?”

  “Oh, sweetheart.” Rachel slipped an arm around the girl’s shoulders.

  Marcy slumped against her, tears spilling over. “She’s so sick. It’s like she’s not here anymore.”

  “I know she’s ill, and your father’s death was a terrible shock to her, but she can come through this. Life will get back to normal.” She was lying to the child, she didn’t believe a word of what she was telling Marcy, but what else could she say? That nothing would ever be normal again? What was normal for these people, anyway?

  The door flew open and Rayanne stood there, her freckled face mottled with anger. “There you are,” she said, pinning Marcy with stern eyes. “Why are you hiding in here? You have to try on that dress for the funeral.”

  Marcy rose obediently. Rachel had to restrain an urge to grab her, hold onto her.

  “Are you ready to leave now?” Rayanne asked Rachel.

  Rachel stood. “After I talk to Mrs. Hall.”

  “I told you she’s not seein’ company.”

  Rachel started to speak but held back when she heard the click of footsteps in the hall. Ethan appeared behind Rayanne in the doorway. “Dr. Goddard,” he said, “I’ll take you up to see my mother if you’re ready. I’ll have to ask you not to mention Soo Jin, though. It upsets her.”

  If Vicky Hall was in that fragile a state, Rachel thought, she s
hould be in a hospital.

  “Ethan,” Rayanne said, “she doesn’t want—”

  “It’s all right. She wants to see Dr. Goddard.”

  Rayanne crossed her arms over her chest. “You’re just wearin’ her out.”

  Rachel collected her bag and squeezed past Rayanne, who didn’t budge to get out of the doorway. Why did they put up with this woman? Rachel wouldn’t have kept her as an employee for five minutes.

  They mounted the stairs, Rayanne on their heels. At the top, Rayanne scurried around Rachel and Ethan to one of the closed doors on the right side of the landing. “I have to be with her in case she needs anything.”

  “If she does, I’ll take care of it,” Ethan said.

  But Rayanne had already opened the door to enter the room.

  Rachel followed Ethan inside. With the draperies still closed, the big room was dark except for a pool of light cast by one bedside lamp. In the middle of the king-sized bed, Vicky Hall slumped against a mound of pillows, most of her body concealed by a puffy comforter. Rayanne positioned herself like a sentry by the head of the bed, arms folded, eyes fixed on Rachel.

  “Good morning, Mrs. Hall,” Rachel said from just inside the doorway.

  “How is Thor doing?” Mrs. Hall asked in a whisper.

  “Very well,” Rachel said. She moved closer to get a better look and try to assess the woman’s condition. In the shadowy light she looked like a cadaver propped up in bed. “I’m sure he’ll make a full recovery.”

  Mrs. Hall’s faint smile, barely visible to Rachel, came and went in a second. “Gordon loved that old dog so much. We have to take good care of him. That’s what Gordon would want.”

  And what about taking care of your children? Would he want that? Aloud, Rachel said, “I’m sure Thor has a few more good years left.”

  Mrs. Hall drew in an audible breath and released it as a shuddering sigh. “Yes, a few more years…”

  She seemed on the verge of drifting into unconsciousness, and alarm pushed Rachel toward the bed. “Mrs. Hall? Are you all right?”

  “She’s fine,” Rayanne said, placing a hand on Mrs. Hall’s shoulder.