Bite the dust, p.15
Bite the Dust, page 15
I didn’t have the strength to pretend my ankle didn’t hurt. “Bad. Especially for a person who makes a living walking dogs.”
Chapter Seventeen
MARC FOLLOWED ME all the way home and walked me to my front door. The key ring slipped from my fingers and fell to the ground. I picked them up and dropped them again.
“Are you nervous to go inside alone?”
“No. I’ll have Sunny, and there are two other dogs inside I’m sitting for. I’m sure it’s fine.” My words might’ve sounded braver if my voice hadn’t wobbled.
He took the keys from my trembling hands and unlocked the door. “Why don’t you let me help take the dogs out? Then you can hunker down for the night.”
“I already feel guilty letting you follow me home.” I stepped inside and turned on the lights. “I’ve taken care of myself for years. This is ridiculous.” If I said it out loud, maybe I’d believe it.
“You’ve never tangled with a killer before. There’s no shame in backing off.” Two pairs of my cross trainers had been kicked off and left in the front entry as well as a pair of flip-flops. Marc scooted them to the side with his foot.
“I don’t know what to do next. I want to prove my innocence and catch the killer. If it weren’t for his threat against Lacey Jane, I’d be more determined to help catch him. As it is, I’ve put my sister in harm’s way and disrupted your life.”
“Hey, you’re not interfering with my schedule. I needed to come to town and buy Cokes for my girlfriend.”
“Yeah. Right.” His words warmed my heart and I laughed. “The other dogs are in the kitchen.”
“Do you want me to look through the rest of your house while you let them out? I can check under beds and in the closets to make sure nobody is hiding.”
My shoulders relaxed at his offer. “You’re so nice. Thanks. I warn you, though, my house isn’t as neat as yours.”
“No sweat. I learned to be neat in one of my foster homes. I also learned not to get too attached to things because I never knew when I’d get moved and lose items I thought belonged to me.” His face reddened. “I don’t know why I said that.”
“You didn’t get to keep your stuff?”
“Some families kept what they bought for me. Their money. Their stuff. In high school, I found different jobs so I’d have a little money of my own.”
“What’d you buy?”
“I opened a bank account and saved up for the proverbial rainy day. I became a minimalist neat freak.”
I gave him a small smile. “Neatness has never been my strong suit. My mother often told me I’d never be able to keep a roommate in college if I didn’t learn to be organized.”
“It didn’t stop you from raising your siblings. I’m sure it’s not as bad as you think. I’ll meet you in the kitchen.” He turned right and started searching the bedrooms.
I let Sunny and the other dogs out the back door and rinsed some dirty dishes before loading them into the dishwasher. What was Marc thinking about my house? And my messiness? Who cared? It wasn’t like he’d break up with me for being a slob. He was my pretend boyfriend. Did I wish it was real?
With a soft footfall, he reentered the kitchen. “Not a soul in sight. You locked the front door?”
“Yes.” I pulled dog treats out of a plastic bin. “My sloppiness didn’t scare you away?”
“The sight of an organized office surprised me. Even the desktop was neat. The charts and calendar proved you can be neat if you want.”
“Trust me, it’s an effort to be organized.” Another trait Peter had instilled in me in order to run a successful business.
“I didn’t find the killer hiding in any of the rooms. Are the dogs safe?”
I shrugged. “The yard is fenced in, but you never know when a visiting dog will try to dig out. I find it safer to watch than to trust. Except for Sunny, of course.”
Marc stepped onto the deck.
I turned on the outside lights to illuminate the backyard and joined him on my spacious twelve by sixteen deck.
He smiled. “The white picket fence seems to fit your personality.”
Sunny barked from the right corner of the yard. The other dogs raced over and barked too.
My first instinct was to quiet the dogs, but what if somebody was there trying to get to us?
Footsteps pounded on the grass.
A dark form moved across the back of the yard. My pulse skyrocketed. “Somebody’s out here.”
The dogs dashed after the runner.
Marc pulled out his phone and turned on the flashlight.
“Go inside and call Sheriff Stone. And turn off the lights.”
Sunny leapt at the person and bit his leg. The other dogs continued their frenzied barking.
My legs refused to move.
A dog’s yelp sounded.
“Stop!” Marc yelled and raced toward the intruder.
A rip sounded. Then a thud.
Sunny joined the cacophony.
A shot rang out.
A dog squealed.
Marc hit the ground.
I ducked behind my grill.
The dogs howled and barked. It was hard to tell what animal made which sound.
Marc hurried to the dogs. Sunny lay on the ground panting, and the other two stood guard.
No. Not Sunny. I raced to Marc and the dogs. “Did he shoot her?”
“Yes.”
I screamed and dropped to the ground.
“Andi Grace, Sunny’s alive. You don’t have time to fall apart.” Marc slipped his arms under my sweet German shepherd’s body and crossed the yard. “Andi Grace. Open the door.”
I caught up with him on the deck, ripped open the door, and held it for Marc and the Westies.
“We need to get her to the vet.”
I ran my hands over sweet Sunny. “What about you? Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. Focus on Sunny.”
Sirens sounded in the distance.
I cleared the kitchen table and raced to the linen closet for a sheet. Back in the kitchen, I spread it on the table. “Lay her there. I’ll call Doc Hewitt.”
Marc stayed by Sunny’s side while I made the call.
He spoke to my dog. “You’re going to be okay, Sunny. Andi Grace’s got this. She’ll take good care of you.”
As soon as the vet picked up the phone, I started talking. “Doc Hewitt, this is Andi Grace. Sunny’s been shot. I hear sirens, and I don’t know if the cops will let me leave. Can you come to my house?”
“On my way.” He disconnected the call.
I studied Sunny’s wound while Marc cared for the other dogs and settled them into their crates.
Marc joined me. “It sounds like the sheriff’s almost here.”
“Would you pull a towel out of the top drawer?”
Marc brought me a soft kitchen towel.
I held it on her wounded shoulder to stem the flow of blood.
The doorbell rang, and somebody pounded on the door.
“I’ll get it.” Marc left me standing over my precious friend.
Chapter Eighteen
I REFUSED TO LEAVE Sunny’s side until Dr. Hewitt arrived. Sunny was so much more than a dog to me. She’d been my friend, comforter, and defender since the day she’d appeared in my life. Sometimes I believed she’d been sent from God.
The first person to arrive was Wade Stone. He stormed into the kitchen and skidded to a stop at the sight of me holding bloody rags against Sunny’s wound. “What happened?”
I opened my mouth. Instead of words coming out, my lips trembled and tears filled my eyes.
Marc walked around Wade and rubbed my back. “Sheriff, can you and I talk in the living room? We’ve called the vet. It’d be mighty decent of you to let her focus on the dog right now. She’ll be happy to answer your questions when she knows Sunny is okay.”
Wade pointed at me. “I’m not leaving until we talk.”
I nodded. On a normal day, I would’ve been ticked at Marc speaking for me. At the moment, all I felt was relief. The two men left me alone with Sunny.
Dear God, please let her be okay. Help Doc get here fast. I remained standing over my dog.
Marc handled Wade and two deputies, leading them through the kitchen to the backyard.
From their crates, Heinz and Chloe barked like ferocious terriers. No doubt they’d bite into a leg or ankle if given the opportunity to defend me. Sunny whimpered.
“You’re going to be okay, girl.” I uttered soothing words in hopes of comforting her.
The doorbell rang. All of the men were outside.
Not wanting to stop applying pressure to the wound, I called out, “Come in.”
Hurried and heavy footsteps thudded over the living room floor. Doc Hewitt appeared across the table from me. “I got here as fast as I could.”
“Doc.” My voice wobbled, and I almost sank to the floor in relief. “Thank you so much for coming. I think it’s only a flesh wound.” Even though I wasn’t a vet, I’d helped Doc Hewitt enough to have an educated guess.
“Let me see what we’re dealing with.” The veterinarian took over.
I washed my hands but kept my gaze on Sunny.
After a few minutes, Doc Hewitt nodded. “I agree. You’ve done a good job cleaning the wound.”
“Do you think she needs X-rays?”
He adjusted his bifocals. “No. Somebody taught you well. I have no complaints on how you handled the injury.”
Somehow, I managed to smile. “Yes. You did teach me well.”
The front door banged shut, and deep voices drifted into the kitchen. I peeked into the living room to assure myself it was the good guys.
Marc and Wade were in a deep conversation, and the deputies must still be searching for leads in the backyard. I owed Marc. Big time. He’d taken charge of the sheriff and deputies, allowing me to care for Sunny.
I glanced at Doc Hewitt and Sunny. “I probably need to speak to Sheriff Stone.”
“Go ahead. We’ll be fine.” He was preparing to stitch up the gash and never looked at me.
My stomach clenched. Too many close calls tonight had left my stomach in knots. Poor Sunny was paying the price.
The men stopped talking when I joined them in the living room.
“Did y’all find any clues?”
Marc rubbed my shoulder.
Wade held up a clear plastic bag with a piece of material. “Part of the assailant’s shirt snagged on your fence.”
Black cotton. Jagged edges and a partial hem.
“It looks like maybe a polo shirt.” I should know. I’d laundered enough for my brother over the years. People might say I was sloppy, but I’d always been clean.
Wade nodded. “Could be. I’d like to hear your version of what happened tonight.”
I wanted to return to Sunny, but Wade expected me to do the adult thing. “Thomas was wearing a white T-shirt when we saw him at Marc’s place.”
Marc gave me an encouraging squeeze on the shoulder. “Doesn’t mean he didn’t change. In fact, it’d make sense to wear black. Less chance we’d spot him in the dark.”
Wade said, “Let’s sit.”
I moved to my flowery red couch and dropped onto one end. My mother had read many stories to me on this very couch. Despite the night’s events, there was a degree of comfort when I thought about my mom. I faced Wade, who sat in the ivory wingback chair. The same chair my dad used to sit in to lecture me when I’d misbehaved. Maybe it was why I felt like I was in trouble. Or it could’ve been because Wade was the sheriff and wore a gun at his waist and could’ve easily arrested me for Peter’s murder. I took a deep breath. Time to cooperate. “What do you need to know?”
Wade placed a recorder on the table and pushed a button. “Just tell me what happened tonight. From your point of view.”
Marc left the room, and I missed him. I shook off that thought. I didn’t need a man to make me strong. The last twelve years should’ve proved how capable I was. I took a deep breath. “I’ll start with hearing the music at Peter’s house. Okay?”
“Yes.”
I took another deep breath and began. Halfway through the story, Marc slipped into the room, sat beside me, and handed me a glass of Coke in a sweat-proof glass full of ice cubes.
“Thanks. How’s Sunny?”
“Dr. Hewitt is stitching her up.”
I nodded and turned back to Wade. “Marc was kind enough to follow me home. After our encounter with Thomas King, I was kinda nervous.”
Wade nodded. “I understand. What happened here?”
I took a gulp of my drink and reviewed the events with Wade. “Then you arrived. Do you think it’s Thomas King?”
Wade punched the button on his recorder. “I don’t know. Be careful around him, but don’t assume it’s not somebody else. Let me handle the investigation, and you stick to dog-walking.” His blue eyes pierced me. “Do you understand?”
“Yes, sir.” Okay. Maybe addressing a man my own age as sir was over the top.
Marc stood. “Sheriff, is it safe for Andi Grace to stay here by herself?”
“I’ll make sure a car patrols this area tonight.” He gathered his belongings and strode to the front door.
I followed the men. “Are you going to question Thomas King?”
“I’ve got a deputy heading to his house as we speak, and I’m going to join them. The sooner we get there, the better our chance he’ll slip up.” He gave me another pointed stare. “If he’s guilty, of course.”
“Of course. Did you find the bullet?”
“Not yet. For the record, we don’t need your help looking.”
I nodded. “Will you check for a gun at Thomas’s house?”
Marc touched my arm. “Andi Grace, trust Wade to do his job.” His voice had a hint—just a hint—of a “back off” warning.
My skin prickled. I wouldn’t analyze whether from embarrassment or from Marc’s touch. “Sorry, Wade. I’m just so worried.”
His expression softened. “I understand, Andi Grace. We’ll ask about weapons. But maybe you should give Thomas a break.”
My head jerked back. “What do you mean?”
“When we were young, his wife disappeared with Dylan. Thomas couldn’t afford a private investigator, and the police couldn’t locate them for over a year.”
Thomas hadn’t been on my radar until I was responsible for raising Lacey Jane. “How do you know this?”
“I just do.”
“What happened?”
“The FBI found Mrs. King and Dylan in Texas. His picture was on a milk carton, and a kid going to school with Dylan saw it and told his parents. By the time Mrs. King was arrested, she’d done a good job of brainwashing Dylan.”
“Brainwashing how?”
“The usual. His dad was a terrible person. Didn’t love them. That kind of garbage. Add that to the fact Dylan blamed Thomas for his mom’s arrest. You know how hard it is to be a single parent. Imagine how much harder if you’ve got those hurdles to cross.”
How did I not know about Dylan’s kidnapping? Had I been so focused on my family and Danny I hadn’t cared about anybody else’s problems? Shame on me. “Thanks for sharing his story, Wade.”
“I’m not saying the man is innocent, but you know the old saying. Walk a mile in a man’s shoes. You might cut him some slack.”
“I’ll try to be nicer.” Unless he turned out to be the killer.
Marc stuffed his hands in his pockets. “The most important thing is to be safe.”
Wade nodded. “I agree.”
I summoned up my courage. “Does this mean you’ve ruled me out as a suspect in Peter’s murder?”
In Wade Stone’s inimitable way, he sidestepped my question. “The case is wide open. Good night.” He left us standing by the front door.
As Marc closed the door, I twisted my mouth. “Maybe when we hear who inherited Peter’s estate, we’ll have a better suspect.” I tipped my head. “I’d never heard the story about Thomas.”
“I guess we should give Thomas the benefit of the doubt, but don’t let down your guard.”
“Right. I’m going to check on Sunny.” I headed to the kitchen. Sunny was still laying on the counter with her eyes closed and breathing heavy. “How’s she doing, Doc?”
“She’ll be sore, but no permanent damage. I need you to add more soft towels or blankets to her kennel. Let’s make it as comfortable as possible.”
I hurried to the laundry room and pulled a soft quilt from a shelf. Back in the kitchen, I fluffed the towels in the crate and placed the quilt on top. A big space for a big dog needed lots of padding. “Ready.”
The Westies had grown quiet and watched us deal with Sunny.
Dr. Hewitt pointed to Marc. “Do you mind carrying her? My back isn’t as strong as it used to be.”
Marc spoke soft words to Sunny before lifting her to his chest. At the door of the crate, he knelt with Sunny in his arms. The man’s arms bulged as he leaned in and placed my dog on the mound of softness.
My heart swelled. What a nice man. He’d be a great father one day to some lucky children.
My pulse spiked. Where had that come from? I was a practical woman and didn’t have time to imagine what Marc would be like as a father.
Marc as a father. I’d raised Nate and Lacey Jane. The threat. I found my phone and called my sister.
“Hello. Andi Grace?”
“Where are you?”
“At my apartment. Why? Where are you?”
“I’m home. Pack a bag. I’m going to call Nate to take you to his place for the night. I’ll explain what’s going on later. Don’t answer the door for anybody except Nate. Do you understand?”
Chapter Seventeen
MARC FOLLOWED ME all the way home and walked me to my front door. The key ring slipped from my fingers and fell to the ground. I picked them up and dropped them again.
“Are you nervous to go inside alone?”
“No. I’ll have Sunny, and there are two other dogs inside I’m sitting for. I’m sure it’s fine.” My words might’ve sounded braver if my voice hadn’t wobbled.
He took the keys from my trembling hands and unlocked the door. “Why don’t you let me help take the dogs out? Then you can hunker down for the night.”
“I already feel guilty letting you follow me home.” I stepped inside and turned on the lights. “I’ve taken care of myself for years. This is ridiculous.” If I said it out loud, maybe I’d believe it.
“You’ve never tangled with a killer before. There’s no shame in backing off.” Two pairs of my cross trainers had been kicked off and left in the front entry as well as a pair of flip-flops. Marc scooted them to the side with his foot.
“I don’t know what to do next. I want to prove my innocence and catch the killer. If it weren’t for his threat against Lacey Jane, I’d be more determined to help catch him. As it is, I’ve put my sister in harm’s way and disrupted your life.”
“Hey, you’re not interfering with my schedule. I needed to come to town and buy Cokes for my girlfriend.”
“Yeah. Right.” His words warmed my heart and I laughed. “The other dogs are in the kitchen.”
“Do you want me to look through the rest of your house while you let them out? I can check under beds and in the closets to make sure nobody is hiding.”
My shoulders relaxed at his offer. “You’re so nice. Thanks. I warn you, though, my house isn’t as neat as yours.”
“No sweat. I learned to be neat in one of my foster homes. I also learned not to get too attached to things because I never knew when I’d get moved and lose items I thought belonged to me.” His face reddened. “I don’t know why I said that.”
“You didn’t get to keep your stuff?”
“Some families kept what they bought for me. Their money. Their stuff. In high school, I found different jobs so I’d have a little money of my own.”
“What’d you buy?”
“I opened a bank account and saved up for the proverbial rainy day. I became a minimalist neat freak.”
I gave him a small smile. “Neatness has never been my strong suit. My mother often told me I’d never be able to keep a roommate in college if I didn’t learn to be organized.”
“It didn’t stop you from raising your siblings. I’m sure it’s not as bad as you think. I’ll meet you in the kitchen.” He turned right and started searching the bedrooms.
I let Sunny and the other dogs out the back door and rinsed some dirty dishes before loading them into the dishwasher. What was Marc thinking about my house? And my messiness? Who cared? It wasn’t like he’d break up with me for being a slob. He was my pretend boyfriend. Did I wish it was real?
With a soft footfall, he reentered the kitchen. “Not a soul in sight. You locked the front door?”
“Yes.” I pulled dog treats out of a plastic bin. “My sloppiness didn’t scare you away?”
“The sight of an organized office surprised me. Even the desktop was neat. The charts and calendar proved you can be neat if you want.”
“Trust me, it’s an effort to be organized.” Another trait Peter had instilled in me in order to run a successful business.
“I didn’t find the killer hiding in any of the rooms. Are the dogs safe?”
I shrugged. “The yard is fenced in, but you never know when a visiting dog will try to dig out. I find it safer to watch than to trust. Except for Sunny, of course.”
Marc stepped onto the deck.
I turned on the outside lights to illuminate the backyard and joined him on my spacious twelve by sixteen deck.
He smiled. “The white picket fence seems to fit your personality.”
Sunny barked from the right corner of the yard. The other dogs raced over and barked too.
My first instinct was to quiet the dogs, but what if somebody was there trying to get to us?
Footsteps pounded on the grass.
A dark form moved across the back of the yard. My pulse skyrocketed. “Somebody’s out here.”
The dogs dashed after the runner.
Marc pulled out his phone and turned on the flashlight.
“Go inside and call Sheriff Stone. And turn off the lights.”
Sunny leapt at the person and bit his leg. The other dogs continued their frenzied barking.
My legs refused to move.
A dog’s yelp sounded.
“Stop!” Marc yelled and raced toward the intruder.
A rip sounded. Then a thud.
Sunny joined the cacophony.
A shot rang out.
A dog squealed.
Marc hit the ground.
I ducked behind my grill.
The dogs howled and barked. It was hard to tell what animal made which sound.
Marc hurried to the dogs. Sunny lay on the ground panting, and the other two stood guard.
No. Not Sunny. I raced to Marc and the dogs. “Did he shoot her?”
“Yes.”
I screamed and dropped to the ground.
“Andi Grace, Sunny’s alive. You don’t have time to fall apart.” Marc slipped his arms under my sweet German shepherd’s body and crossed the yard. “Andi Grace. Open the door.”
I caught up with him on the deck, ripped open the door, and held it for Marc and the Westies.
“We need to get her to the vet.”
I ran my hands over sweet Sunny. “What about you? Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. Focus on Sunny.”
Sirens sounded in the distance.
I cleared the kitchen table and raced to the linen closet for a sheet. Back in the kitchen, I spread it on the table. “Lay her there. I’ll call Doc Hewitt.”
Marc stayed by Sunny’s side while I made the call.
He spoke to my dog. “You’re going to be okay, Sunny. Andi Grace’s got this. She’ll take good care of you.”
As soon as the vet picked up the phone, I started talking. “Doc Hewitt, this is Andi Grace. Sunny’s been shot. I hear sirens, and I don’t know if the cops will let me leave. Can you come to my house?”
“On my way.” He disconnected the call.
I studied Sunny’s wound while Marc cared for the other dogs and settled them into their crates.
Marc joined me. “It sounds like the sheriff’s almost here.”
“Would you pull a towel out of the top drawer?”
Marc brought me a soft kitchen towel.
I held it on her wounded shoulder to stem the flow of blood.
The doorbell rang, and somebody pounded on the door.
“I’ll get it.” Marc left me standing over my precious friend.
Chapter Eighteen
I REFUSED TO LEAVE Sunny’s side until Dr. Hewitt arrived. Sunny was so much more than a dog to me. She’d been my friend, comforter, and defender since the day she’d appeared in my life. Sometimes I believed she’d been sent from God.
The first person to arrive was Wade Stone. He stormed into the kitchen and skidded to a stop at the sight of me holding bloody rags against Sunny’s wound. “What happened?”
I opened my mouth. Instead of words coming out, my lips trembled and tears filled my eyes.
Marc walked around Wade and rubbed my back. “Sheriff, can you and I talk in the living room? We’ve called the vet. It’d be mighty decent of you to let her focus on the dog right now. She’ll be happy to answer your questions when she knows Sunny is okay.”
Wade pointed at me. “I’m not leaving until we talk.”
I nodded. On a normal day, I would’ve been ticked at Marc speaking for me. At the moment, all I felt was relief. The two men left me alone with Sunny.
Dear God, please let her be okay. Help Doc get here fast. I remained standing over my dog.
Marc handled Wade and two deputies, leading them through the kitchen to the backyard.
From their crates, Heinz and Chloe barked like ferocious terriers. No doubt they’d bite into a leg or ankle if given the opportunity to defend me. Sunny whimpered.
“You’re going to be okay, girl.” I uttered soothing words in hopes of comforting her.
The doorbell rang. All of the men were outside.
Not wanting to stop applying pressure to the wound, I called out, “Come in.”
Hurried and heavy footsteps thudded over the living room floor. Doc Hewitt appeared across the table from me. “I got here as fast as I could.”
“Doc.” My voice wobbled, and I almost sank to the floor in relief. “Thank you so much for coming. I think it’s only a flesh wound.” Even though I wasn’t a vet, I’d helped Doc Hewitt enough to have an educated guess.
“Let me see what we’re dealing with.” The veterinarian took over.
I washed my hands but kept my gaze on Sunny.
After a few minutes, Doc Hewitt nodded. “I agree. You’ve done a good job cleaning the wound.”
“Do you think she needs X-rays?”
He adjusted his bifocals. “No. Somebody taught you well. I have no complaints on how you handled the injury.”
Somehow, I managed to smile. “Yes. You did teach me well.”
The front door banged shut, and deep voices drifted into the kitchen. I peeked into the living room to assure myself it was the good guys.
Marc and Wade were in a deep conversation, and the deputies must still be searching for leads in the backyard. I owed Marc. Big time. He’d taken charge of the sheriff and deputies, allowing me to care for Sunny.
I glanced at Doc Hewitt and Sunny. “I probably need to speak to Sheriff Stone.”
“Go ahead. We’ll be fine.” He was preparing to stitch up the gash and never looked at me.
My stomach clenched. Too many close calls tonight had left my stomach in knots. Poor Sunny was paying the price.
The men stopped talking when I joined them in the living room.
“Did y’all find any clues?”
Marc rubbed my shoulder.
Wade held up a clear plastic bag with a piece of material. “Part of the assailant’s shirt snagged on your fence.”
Black cotton. Jagged edges and a partial hem.
“It looks like maybe a polo shirt.” I should know. I’d laundered enough for my brother over the years. People might say I was sloppy, but I’d always been clean.
Wade nodded. “Could be. I’d like to hear your version of what happened tonight.”
I wanted to return to Sunny, but Wade expected me to do the adult thing. “Thomas was wearing a white T-shirt when we saw him at Marc’s place.”
Marc gave me an encouraging squeeze on the shoulder. “Doesn’t mean he didn’t change. In fact, it’d make sense to wear black. Less chance we’d spot him in the dark.”
Wade said, “Let’s sit.”
I moved to my flowery red couch and dropped onto one end. My mother had read many stories to me on this very couch. Despite the night’s events, there was a degree of comfort when I thought about my mom. I faced Wade, who sat in the ivory wingback chair. The same chair my dad used to sit in to lecture me when I’d misbehaved. Maybe it was why I felt like I was in trouble. Or it could’ve been because Wade was the sheriff and wore a gun at his waist and could’ve easily arrested me for Peter’s murder. I took a deep breath. Time to cooperate. “What do you need to know?”
Wade placed a recorder on the table and pushed a button. “Just tell me what happened tonight. From your point of view.”
Marc left the room, and I missed him. I shook off that thought. I didn’t need a man to make me strong. The last twelve years should’ve proved how capable I was. I took a deep breath. “I’ll start with hearing the music at Peter’s house. Okay?”
“Yes.”
I took another deep breath and began. Halfway through the story, Marc slipped into the room, sat beside me, and handed me a glass of Coke in a sweat-proof glass full of ice cubes.
“Thanks. How’s Sunny?”
“Dr. Hewitt is stitching her up.”
I nodded and turned back to Wade. “Marc was kind enough to follow me home. After our encounter with Thomas King, I was kinda nervous.”
Wade nodded. “I understand. What happened here?”
I took a gulp of my drink and reviewed the events with Wade. “Then you arrived. Do you think it’s Thomas King?”
Wade punched the button on his recorder. “I don’t know. Be careful around him, but don’t assume it’s not somebody else. Let me handle the investigation, and you stick to dog-walking.” His blue eyes pierced me. “Do you understand?”
“Yes, sir.” Okay. Maybe addressing a man my own age as sir was over the top.
Marc stood. “Sheriff, is it safe for Andi Grace to stay here by herself?”
“I’ll make sure a car patrols this area tonight.” He gathered his belongings and strode to the front door.
I followed the men. “Are you going to question Thomas King?”
“I’ve got a deputy heading to his house as we speak, and I’m going to join them. The sooner we get there, the better our chance he’ll slip up.” He gave me another pointed stare. “If he’s guilty, of course.”
“Of course. Did you find the bullet?”
“Not yet. For the record, we don’t need your help looking.”
I nodded. “Will you check for a gun at Thomas’s house?”
Marc touched my arm. “Andi Grace, trust Wade to do his job.” His voice had a hint—just a hint—of a “back off” warning.
My skin prickled. I wouldn’t analyze whether from embarrassment or from Marc’s touch. “Sorry, Wade. I’m just so worried.”
His expression softened. “I understand, Andi Grace. We’ll ask about weapons. But maybe you should give Thomas a break.”
My head jerked back. “What do you mean?”
“When we were young, his wife disappeared with Dylan. Thomas couldn’t afford a private investigator, and the police couldn’t locate them for over a year.”
Thomas hadn’t been on my radar until I was responsible for raising Lacey Jane. “How do you know this?”
“I just do.”
“What happened?”
“The FBI found Mrs. King and Dylan in Texas. His picture was on a milk carton, and a kid going to school with Dylan saw it and told his parents. By the time Mrs. King was arrested, she’d done a good job of brainwashing Dylan.”
“Brainwashing how?”
“The usual. His dad was a terrible person. Didn’t love them. That kind of garbage. Add that to the fact Dylan blamed Thomas for his mom’s arrest. You know how hard it is to be a single parent. Imagine how much harder if you’ve got those hurdles to cross.”
How did I not know about Dylan’s kidnapping? Had I been so focused on my family and Danny I hadn’t cared about anybody else’s problems? Shame on me. “Thanks for sharing his story, Wade.”
“I’m not saying the man is innocent, but you know the old saying. Walk a mile in a man’s shoes. You might cut him some slack.”
“I’ll try to be nicer.” Unless he turned out to be the killer.
Marc stuffed his hands in his pockets. “The most important thing is to be safe.”
Wade nodded. “I agree.”
I summoned up my courage. “Does this mean you’ve ruled me out as a suspect in Peter’s murder?”
In Wade Stone’s inimitable way, he sidestepped my question. “The case is wide open. Good night.” He left us standing by the front door.
As Marc closed the door, I twisted my mouth. “Maybe when we hear who inherited Peter’s estate, we’ll have a better suspect.” I tipped my head. “I’d never heard the story about Thomas.”
“I guess we should give Thomas the benefit of the doubt, but don’t let down your guard.”
“Right. I’m going to check on Sunny.” I headed to the kitchen. Sunny was still laying on the counter with her eyes closed and breathing heavy. “How’s she doing, Doc?”
“She’ll be sore, but no permanent damage. I need you to add more soft towels or blankets to her kennel. Let’s make it as comfortable as possible.”
I hurried to the laundry room and pulled a soft quilt from a shelf. Back in the kitchen, I fluffed the towels in the crate and placed the quilt on top. A big space for a big dog needed lots of padding. “Ready.”
The Westies had grown quiet and watched us deal with Sunny.
Dr. Hewitt pointed to Marc. “Do you mind carrying her? My back isn’t as strong as it used to be.”
Marc spoke soft words to Sunny before lifting her to his chest. At the door of the crate, he knelt with Sunny in his arms. The man’s arms bulged as he leaned in and placed my dog on the mound of softness.
My heart swelled. What a nice man. He’d be a great father one day to some lucky children.
My pulse spiked. Where had that come from? I was a practical woman and didn’t have time to imagine what Marc would be like as a father.
Marc as a father. I’d raised Nate and Lacey Jane. The threat. I found my phone and called my sister.
“Hello. Andi Grace?”
“Where are you?”
“At my apartment. Why? Where are you?”
“I’m home. Pack a bag. I’m going to call Nate to take you to his place for the night. I’ll explain what’s going on later. Don’t answer the door for anybody except Nate. Do you understand?”
