Faith went trotting out ahead of us again. After a few seconds I could barely see the rounded pom-pon on her tail in the gloom. When she abruptly began to bark, that was all the impetus I needed to start running through the heavy drifts to catch up. Bertie was right behind me.
I stumbled awkwardly through a tangle of downed branches. When I finally made it out the other side and was able to look up, I could see the outline of the carriage house through the trees. The parking lot was no more than twenty feet away.
As Bertie and I struggled to reach her, Faith waited for us on the narrow strip of land between the macadam and the edge of the woods. My line of sight was still limited, but I didn’t see Tar anywhere. Or Hannah and Izzy.
Hannah’s small sedan and my Volvo were both still parked on the other side of the lot. I exhaled quickly in relief. But as I shoved aside a thorny bush and finally broke through the last line of trees, the sedan’s lights came on and its engine rumbled to life.
I scrambled toward the parking lot as Hannah quickly reversed out of her space. When she turned the sedan to face the exit, she and I were opposite each other. I could clearly see Hannah sitting grim faced behind the wheel. Izzy was on the seat beside her. But there was still no sign of Tar.
Faith barked again. I was turning to tell her to stay where she was when I suddenly heard an answering yip. Tar’s fuzzy black head popped out from behind the Volvo. I almost choked on a sob of relief. Maybe the big Poodle wasn’t so dumb after all. Having become separated from us, he must have figured out that his best course of action was to remain beside our car.
“Tar!” Bertie cried out. “Good dog.”
Tar was delighted to see us. He bounced up in the air and came flying out from behind the Volvo. His feet slid on the icy surface. As he bounded toward us, Hannah suddenly floored her gas pedal. The silver sedan shot forward. It was heading straight toward him.
“No!” I screamed.
Tar lifted his head in confusion. His steps slowed uncertainly. He was oblivious to the oncoming car. Now it was only feet away.
I didn’t even stop to think. I simply began to run, sprinting across the space between us. Only one thing mattered—saving my dog.
Cutting in front of the sedan was a risky move. I thought I had enough time to clear the car—and to propel both myself and Tar out of the way. Maybe if the pavement hadn’t been slippery with snow, I would have made it.
Instead, just as my hands reached the big Poodle and shoved him back, I felt the impact of a jarring blow resonate throughout my entire body. My legs flew out from under me. Suddenly I was flying through the air. I came down hard on the Volvo’s hood and a searing pain shot down my side.
All the oxygen seemed to have vanished from my lungs. My body shuddered, then lay still. Somehow I’d lost control of my limbs. Unable to prevent myself from falling, I slithered down off the hood and landed in a heap on the pavement.
I’m in big trouble, I thought.
Stars came out of nowhere to dance in front of my eyes. Then abruptly they disappeared and everything went black.
Chapter 29
I woke up slowly.
It hurt to even think about opening my eyes. So for a minute I just lay very still and concentrated on breathing in and out. My lungs were working again. That had to be a good thing.
Gradually an awareness of my surroundings returned. The ground beneath me was cold. And wet. My whole body ached. One of my legs was bent back and there was a piercing pain in my ankle that made me think I should try to wiggle my toes. That was a big mistake.
I groaned softly. Then I realized that something big and warm was pressed against my chest. Probably Faith. When I made a sound, she quickly shifted around and began to lick my face. That helped.
Dimly I was aware that Bertie was nearby. It sounded like she was yelling at somebody. Possibly into her phone. I hoped she was calling for help because I knew I needed it.
I took a deep breath and tried opening just one eye. That seemed to work out all right. Except that the side of my head was pressed up against the Volvo’s tire and I was staring down at the driveway. Not much of a view.
So I opened the other eye. And saw pretty much the same thing.
It felt like moving would require a lot of effort. So instead I just blinked. My vision cleared. Another good thing.
I turned my head slightly. Now I could see the woods. Nothing useful there. Then Bertie came striding into my field of vision. Finally, it felt like I was getting somewhere.
She squatted down beside me. “Melanie, can you hear me?”
“No need to yell,” I croaked. “I’m right here.”
“Thank God you’re alive.” She peered down at my face. “I thought you were dead. Or maybe dying. Don’t try to move. I called nine-one-one. Help is on the way.”
“I want to sit up,” I told her. I lifted an arm and maneuvered Faith just slightly away. The Poodle immediately protested the distance between us. “Help me up.”
“Are you sure that’s a good idea?”
“It’s got to be better than lying here squished up against a tire.”
Gingerly, Bertie took my arm. She lifted and I pushed. A few seconds later, I was upright and leaning against the Volvo’s fender. “That’s better.” I sighed.
Suddenly I looked around. That was another mistake. “Where’s Tar?”
“He’s fine. I locked him inside the car so he couldn’t get into any more trouble. I tried to put Faith in there with him, but she wouldn’t listen to me.”
I looped my arm around Faith’s neck. “Good girl,” I whispered.
Bertie glared at us. “Good girl, indeed. The two of you deserve each other. I’ve never been so scared in my life. What were you thinking, running in front of Hannah’s car like that?”
“I don’t know.” I groaned again. “Maybe that I was faster than a speeding bullet?”
“It isn’t funny,” she snapped.
“I know. I’m sorry.” My lower lip began to quiver. “You’re right, that was a stupid thing to do. I wasn’t thinking.”
Bertie stared at me, her anger fading. Abruptly she became solicitous instead. “What’s the matter? You’re not going to cry, are you? Oh my God, are you in pain? Are you bleeding somewhere? What should I do?”
“Just stay with me,” I told her. “I’m not going to cry. I think I’m just cold.”
“Of course you’re cold. You’re probably in shock. And it’s friggin’ freezing out here.” Bertie yanked off her coat and spread it over me.
As she straightened we both heard the sound of approaching sirens. More than one. Idly I wondered how many people she’d called. I hoped Bertie didn’t have Aunt Peg on speed dial. That would really finish me off.
As the first of the official vehicles turned into the parking lot, Bertie looped a collar around Faith’s neck. Over the Poodle’s objections, Bertie put her in the car where she’d be safely out of the way. I knew it was necessary but I was sorry to see Faith leave. Without her warm body beside me, I quickly felt chilled again.
The New Canaan police station was just down the road from Waveny Park. Still, I was surprised when the first person to come walking around the Volvo was Detective Hronis.
He took in the scene, then carefully hunkered down in front of me. The detective’s gaze roamed over my body before returning to my face. His expression revealed an emotion he’d never directed toward me before. He was clearly concerned.
I must have looked worse than I felt. And I felt pretty bad.
“What are you doing here?” I asked.
“Your friend called me. She said you mentioned me in a conversation you were having. She thought maybe I could help. You want to tell me what happened here?”
“Bertie’s the woman who called you. She and I were out on the hiking trails, taking a walk with Hannah Bly.”
His sympathetic countenance vanished. It was replaced by a scowl. “I assume that’s the same Hannah Bly you just told me about earlier?�
�
I nodded.
“The woman you suspected of being a murderer?”
“Yes.”
“You decided to go for a walk in the woods with her.” Hronis closed his eyes briefly as if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Or maybe he was praying for patience. In my diminished mental state, it was hard to tell. “Was there any particular reason you thought that would be a good idea?”
“I wanted to tell her that she should turn herself in to the police,” I said.
“You couldn’t have called her on the phone for that?”
Now there was a good idea. In hindsight, too bad I hadn’t done so.
“I thought Hannah was a nice person. I felt I owed it to her to hear her side of the story.”
“Her side.” He frowned. “Does she have a side?”
“Yes. Hannah says she acted in self-defense. Six weeks before she killed Victor Durbin, he slipped a roofie in her drink at a party and raped her.”
Hronis immediately zeroed in on the first part of what I’d said. “She admitted to you that she’d killed him?”
“She did.” I sighed. “Bertie heard her too.”
More flashing lights were spinning in the air above me. Two paramedics appeared. I glanced up at them over the detective’s shoulder.
“How bad are you feeling?” Hronis asked. “Do you think you need immediate medical assistance?”
“I’m not going to die anytime soon if that’s what you’re asking.”
He turned to the two men. “Give us a minute, will you?” They both stepped back to give us some privacy.
“Then what happened?” Detective Hronis asked.
“Hannah asked us not to tell anyone what she’d done. I told her it was already too late for that.” I gave him a wobbly smile. “That was where you came in.”
“Right.” He frowned again. At least that was a familiar expression. “You and I had our little chat, what . . . maybe three hours ago?”
“I guess so.”
“Three hours, not even. That was all the time you were going to give me to look into what you’d said before you decided to take matters into your own hands?”
Put like that, it did make my actions sound precipitous. Maybe I could see why he might be upset.
“You said you didn’t believe me,” I told him.
“No, that wasn’t it,” Hronis stated. “I said we needed proof.”
“And now you have it.”
The detective shook his head. He was not amused. “I also have a woman sitting on the ground who’s apparently been hit by a car. In case you don’t realize it, Ms. Travis, there were easier ways to go about this.”
Now it was my turn to scowl. “Believe me, Detective, I know that now. But when Bertie and I came out here earlier, I had no intention of getting hurt.”
“Yet somehow you managed to get in the way of Hannah Bly’s car.”
“No, actually, my dog did.”
“Your dog?” he repeated incredulously.
“Yes,” I snapped. “But he’s fine. Thank you for asking.”
“Your dog,” Hronis said again.
Rather than repeat myself, I gestured toward the car window above me. I knew that Faith and Tar would be standing on the seat watching us. No doubt two black noses were pressed against the glass. Even though the window was closed, I could hear Faith whining unhappily.
Hronis glanced upward, then back down again. “I’m glad your dog is fine,” he said gruffly. “And I’m sorry you’re not. As for Hannah Bly, I was already in the process of getting in touch with the Midtown precinct. I’ll put a rush on that now. In the meantime, we’ll pick her up and bring her in for questioning. Worst case, we can charge her for what she did to you.”
“Thank you,” I said. “Maybe you could ask the paramedics to give me some help?”
I leaned back and closed my eyes. Everything was out of my hands now. It was time for the authorities to take over. I couldn’t even have made my own way to the hospital. The paramedics took care of that.
Bertie had called Sam and he met us at the entrance to the emergency room. I was still feeling fuzzy so Sam took over as I underwent a battery of tests. After that, the doctors decided to keep me in the hospital overnight for observation. I was pretty banged up but the consensus was that I’d been very lucky.
Hannah must have seen me at the last second and tried to avoid hitting me, as it appeared her car had delivered only a glancing blow. I had a concussion, and there were numerous unsightly bruises mottling various parts of my body. Beyond that, the only serious injury was to my ankle. My fibula had a clean break. I wouldn’t be out running with the Poodles anytime soon, but eventually I could expect to make a full recovery.
Hannah took my advice and hired an experienced attorney. He accompanied her to the police station when she turned herself in. He stood by her side when she confessed to killing Victor Durbin.
Then Hannah’s lawyer came up with a way to take a thorny legal problem, turn it around, and present it to maximum advantage. He characterized Hannah as both a victim and a heroine. She was hand delivered to the media as a crusader who’d fought for the rights of abused women everywhere.
I had mixed feelings about positioning rape as a justification for murder, but the press lapped up Hannah’s story eagerly. With popular opinion solidly on her side, I suspected she’d wind up with a plea deal that would allow her to avoid jail time. At any rate, the news outlets’ avid coverage would make it easy for me to keep tabs on future developments in the case.
Having lost both Victor and Hannah, the Empire Poodle Club didn’t last long after that. Its inaugural specialty show turned out to be its swan song. To no one’s surprise, the remaining board members were anxious to distance themselves from the double-edged scandal. That, combined with the AKC investigation, was enough to quietly close the club down.
I emerged from the hospital with my left leg encased in a medical boot and a pair of crutches under my arms. I quickly discovered that any sort of movement on my part was slow, awkward, and uncomfortable. I hadn’t been a clumsy person before, but I was now.
On my first day home I tripped over Bud twice. Then I managed to sweep half the dinner dishes off the kitchen table with the tip of my crutch. For some reason, my sadistic family found my struggles to adapt wildly amusing.
“It’s not funny,” I groused.
“Actually, it kind of is,” Davey replied. “Cars are pretty big. I can’t believe you didn’t see that one coming.”
Neither of the boys knew the details of my accident. And Sam and I had no intention of enlightening them. All they knew was that somehow their mother had ended up in the wrong place at the worst possible time. Since I’d declined to fill in the gaps in the story, Davey and Kevin figured the accident must have been my fault. Of course.
Sam had seen me through more than a few previous scrapes over the years we’d been together, so his sympathy was limited too. But I forgave him for that when he arranged for a couple of surprise visitors to drop by the house.
Crawford and Terry had returned from a brief trip to St. Lucia. They showed up on our doorstep on Monday afternoon, looking tan, relaxed, and blissfully happy. Terry had a big smile on his face. Improbably Crawford was carrying a plate of brownies.
“Sam told us you needed cheering up,” Terry said. “I can see why. You look terrible. Like you were run over by a truck.”
“Thanks a lot.” I shoved my crutches aside and gave both men hugs. “It’s great to see you guys. Come on in. You look wonderful.”
Davey was still at school. Kev was on a playdate. So Sam only had to manage the Poodle pack. He put all the dogs out back—except for Faith, who hadn’t left my side in days. Then he and I got our guests settled in the living room. The plate of brownies went on the table between us. They looked homemade and smelled delicious.
“How was the honeymoon?” I asked.
“Honeymoons are for young people,” Crawford said. “We just had a nice
little vacation.”
“A post wedding vacation,” Terry interjected. “You know, like a honeymoon.” He was delighted to be married, and he wasn’t going to let anyone forget it.
Crawford shook his head fondly. He lifted the plate and offered it to me. “Have a brownie.”
“Thank you. Did Terry bake them?”
“Nope.” Terry grinned. “Crawford did.”
That was a surprise. Crawford didn’t cook. Ever.
“Really?” Sam and I both looked at the handler.
He just shrugged. “Now that I’m married, I figured it was time to learn.”
“What else can you cook?” I asked.
“Don’t be so impatient,” Terry chided me. “We’re taking it in small steps. This week, brownies. Next week, maybe scrambled eggs.”
Sam and I smiled together. “Tell us all about your trip,” he said.
Terry happily recounted everything they’d done during their beach vacation. When he finally paused for breath, Crawford chimed in. Between beachcombing, deep sea fishing, and visiting an island brewery, the pair had found plenty of ways to entertain themselves. I was surprised to learn that Crawford was an avid snorkeler.
“What?” he said, slipping me a wink. “You don’t think I have hidden depths?”
“I never doubted that for a minute,” I replied, and we all laughed.
Later, when they were leaving, Terry pulled me aside. “It’s great to see you and Crawford getting along again. I’m glad things are finally back to normal.”
I felt the same way, but I couldn’t let Terry have the last word.
“Normal?” I asked him, balancing on my crutches. “What’s that?”
Game of Dog Bones Page 24
