“Because it gave Burke hope?”
She nodded. “Alexander had written Mark a bunch of letters after the fight. At least one a day. That’s why I was there tonight. Mark’s desk has a hidden drawer, I thought I might find a letter, but the drawer was empty.”
“You wanted proof that Mark was gay?”
“I wanted to be able to show the police that Alexander was obsessed. Erotomanic delusion.” Pride had her straightening, lifting her chin slightly. “That’s the clinical name for a stalker who believes a stranger or acquaintance is in love with them. I’m getting my degree in psychology. Ironic, right? A girl with my background wanting to be a shrink?”
“I think you’d be better at it than some spoiled, sheltered brat whose most difficult life lesson has been remembering which fork to use first.”
She laughed, and I realized why I felt so comfortable with her. Jennifer Weston reminded me of my sister. It wasn’t their looks, but their mannerisms. And maybe more important, Emma and Jennifer shared that je ne sais quoi. They both possessed the same magnetic charm.
The realization made me wary instantly. People with that kind of charisma can use it to get what they want. Sometimes without even realizing it. I was somewhat immune to Emma. But I’d have to make sure I was on guard with Jennifer. So far, I didn’t think she was trying to manipulate me, but the best puppet masters never let you feel the strings.
“So what do you want me to do? Tell Kai I think Alexander Burke killed Mark?” I decided to hold off informing her of Burke’s death until I knew what she wanted.
She seemed to think about it for a while. “Tell him you talked to me and I mentioned the name. Maybe suggest the police go look at his house? Get a search warrant or something? I’m sure if they did, they’d find some proof of his obsession. Even if he tells them the truth, that he and Mark were lovers, they’ll just think he’s crazy.” She shrugged and looked at me, waiting for my thoughts.
“Jennifer, I don’t think you have to worry about Burke. He’s dead.”
Her eyes went wide. “How do you know that?”
“Kai told me it was a suicide.” No need to add the drama of my big discovery.
“Suicide.” She whispered the word slowly, as if it was a new concept. “Of course. It makes sense. Mark rejected him and that was the catalyst.”
I could see the budding therapist in her as she reasoned it out.
“Obsessive love follows a pattern. I know Alexander was controlling. When he realized Mark was never going to take him back, he jumped from the obsessive phase to the destructive phase. Denial, rage, revenge, self-loathing, depression.”
“If I can’t have you, no one can, and if you’re gone, I don’t want to live?” I summarized.
She nodded. “Alex killed Mark and then experienced self-hatred so strong, he took his own life.” She closed her eyes for a moment. “Thank God.”
I thought that was a bit cold. Jennifer must have read my mind because she said, “I was afraid he’d get away with it.”
Something else motivated her relief. Feeling that justice had been served? Revenge meted out? I was going to ask when Jennifer flipped on the dashboard lights.
“God! It’s almost one in the morning!” Turning on the headlights, she put the car in gear. “They’re gone by now, don’t you think?”
“Not the rent-a-cop. He’s on ’til after three.”
“It’s a big subdivision. If he’s patrolling, we probably won’t run into him. Do you want to try and find your phone?”
“Too risky. Parsons seemed a little trigger happy. I’ll make arrangements to come back in the morning.”
Jennifer nodded and we drove back into Mark’s neighborhood. I pointed to the hulking form that was my SUV and she pulled in behind Bluebell and stopped. I thanked her and was about to get out when I heard her suck in a breath.
“Is that Jax?”
I looked up. Spotlighted by the Beemer’s headlights, Jax stared at us through one of my back windows. For some reason, he’d decided to climb all the way into the back. I remembered the bag of dog food.
“Yes, that’s him. He better not have torn into that bag of food.”
“Can I see him?” The request sounded so full of hope, I knew I couldn’t deny her. She’d known Jax for years. I’m sure she missed him. He probably missed her, too.
Unless . . .
I sat staring at her for what seemed like an hour as I got a grip on my sudden idea.
“Grace? Would that be okay?”
“Yeah. It’s fine. Let me just . . . grab his leash.” I took my time getting out. It wouldn’t do to freak if things took a turn. I had to be ready. I yanked up my mental shield and moved slowly. When I felt centered, I opened the driver’s door, put the file she’d given me on the seat, and grabbed Jax’s leash. I could hear him stumbling over the objects I kept in the very back. Then he started scrambling over the seats. I shut the door and took one last look at Jennifer; she was waiting near the bumper.
I opened the back door and clipped on Jax’s leash. He leapt to the ground and immediately began straining forward to get to Jennifer. Even shielding against his mind, I could feel the intensity of his emotions.
The question was, did he feel joy at the thought of greeting a beloved friend? Or rage in the face of his master’s murderer?
CHAPTER 19
I braced myself, and let my shield drop. The feeling slammed into me.
Joy.
Pure and unrestrained. The kind of delirious elation only canines possess. Jax’s thoughts were filled with such excitement and love I had to pull the shield back into place just to be able to think.
Jennifer knelt to accept his doggie hello. Laughing and cooing to him. I felt warmth spread through my chest at the sight. Jax loved Jennifer with an honesty most humans would never share.
Feeling a little like an intruder, I moved around them to open the rear double doors and check the condition of the dog food bag. To my surprise, it was still intact. If Moss had been left with such a temptation, the results would not have been the same.
I straightened the things Jax had knocked about as he explored the interior. He had overturned a box I kept for extra nylon leads, toys, hand wipes, and other stuff. I remembered that I’d confiscated a homemade stun gun from a kid who thought it would be a good way to motivate his Great Dane to pull him on his skateboard. Carefully feeling around, I found it next to the bag of food.
Glad Jax hadn’t stepped on it and accidentally zapped himself, I tucked the foot-long cylinder on the other side of the box. Reminding myself to toss the stupid thing, I closed the doors. When I turned to Jennifer, she was crying.
“What’s wrong?”
“I just miss him.” She had draped her arms around him and was patting his side.
“Well, you can adopt him. I haven’t promised anyone anything.” Not exactly true. But it was clear they loved each other.
She sniffed. “I can’t. I’m going to study abroad next semester. I’m leaving next week.”
I lowered myself to sit next to her on the curb. “Where are you going?”
“Florence.”
“Is there a big psychology school in Italy?”
She smiled. “Art. I held off a bunch of credits so I could go.”
“You could get Jax when you come home. Maybe work something out with Bo?”
“Maybe. We’ll see.”
I was suddenly ready for a shower and a bed. Not only was I tired, I didn’t want to run into the gun-happy Officer Parsons.
Just as I was about to say something, Jennifer sighed and hugged the big dog. “Gotta go, buddy.”
I picked up his leash and said good-bye. Thankful the night was winding to a close.
The condo was dim and quiet by the time Jax and I made it back.
Emma was still at her event. The tale of my adventure would have to wait until morning. Emma, who knew everyone, and every bit of gossip floating around in the crème de la crème, was going to have a conniption when I told her about Mark Richardson. Grinning, I tossed my keys, Jax’s file, and my purse on the little hall table and whistled for Moss.
I listened for the familiar jingle of his tags. Moss was probably overdue for a walk by now, which meant he was ignoring me in protest.
“Moss?” I flipped on the kitchen light.
The bright glow flooded the kitchen and illuminated the living room. Moss wasn’t curled up on the couch snubbing me as I’d expected.
In fact, I didn’t sense him at all.
Jax trotted in front of me as I made my way to the guest room. No Moss. I called out again, probing out as far as I could with my mind.
Nothing.
I began to feel a twinge of worry.
I hurried out to the living room again, and remembered the dog door with a flood of relief. I stepped to the door and turned on the balcony light.
I whistled, cupped my hand on the glass, and peered out to the balcony. I caught sight of something small and rectangular near the edge of the banister, and I squinted, trying to make out what it was. Lying on its side, green liquid pooling around it, was an open bottle of antifreeze.
Poison.
Panic pierced my chest. For a moment I couldn’t move. Someone had poisoned Moss. No. No no no no. I spun around and flew back through the house.
Confused and alarmed, Jax scrambled out of the way and then quickly followed as I sped through the condo.
I searched each room with crazed purpose, finally finding Moss in my sister’s bathroom, slipping and wobbling on the slick tile. “Moss! Oh God.”
Flinging myself down to the floor, I cupped his head in my hands. Thirsty. Sick. He leaned toward me. His dizziness swooped into me and the room spun. My stomach clenched. This was bad. Fear clouded my mind. How much had he ingested? When?
I tried to push the panic away and focus. “It’s going to be okay, boy.” Tears stung my eyes. My hands shook so violently I wasn’t sure I would be able to use them. “Shit! Pull it together, Grace.”
Crushing down my fear with an iron fist, I dragged myself up and ran into the kitchen.
Mentally, I ordered Jax to stay out of the way. I couldn’t afford to be tripping over him. Time was running out for Moss. The longer the antifreeze coursed through his system, the greater the chance he would not recover. I needed to think. I was a veterinarian, I had to act like one.
I wrenched open the door to the liquor cabinet, searched the shelves, and snatched out a bottle of vodka. Now all I needed was an IV. I hurried into the guest room, where I kept my second kit. Clawing through its contents, I grabbed what I needed and rushed back to Emma’s bathroom. If I could get enough alcohol into him, there might be a chance.
“Grace?” Emma walked into the bathroom, where I knelt next to Moss. She was still holding her keys and clutch purse. “What the hell . . .”
I looked up at Emma and a fresh wave of emotion washed over me. “Someone poisoned him—” A sob cut off the explanation.
“Oh my God, is he okay?”
“I’ve got to give him this IV.” I held up the needle with a trembling hand. “Here, hold off his vein for me.”
Emma only hesitated for a split second before dropping to the floor and reaching out to do as I asked. I showed her how to grip his front leg, and though my fingers shook wildly, was able to administer the IV.
Emma’s eyes followed the IV line up to where it ended in the opened vodka bottle.
I answered her before she could ask. “The ethylene glycol won’t be metabolized by the liver and processed by his kidneys if there’s enough alcohol in his system.”
“Really?”
I nodded.
“Saved by Stoli.” Emma offered me a weak smile. “He will be okay, won’t he?”
“I don’t know. It depends on how much antifreeze he ingested.”
“Antifreeze?”
I nodded. “It’s toxic. Someone left an open bottle on the balcony.”
“You mean someone put a bottle of antifreeze on our balcony to kill Moss?” The look on Emma’s face had turned from concern to blazing anger.
“Antifreeze is sweet. Animals drink it because it tastes good. It’s an easy way to get rid of a dog or cat you don’t like.”
“Fucking Bert Cavanaugh.” Emma’s eyes had narrowed and her mouth was set in a thin, angry line. “That bastard. I never imagined he would do something like this.”
Mr. Cavanaugh. Of course. I looked down at Moss and whispered, “If he did this to you . . .” I let the thought go. Don’t you worry about that. Just get better. Please.
“Oh my God, Grace. The door. Moss could get on the balcony because of the dog door.” Emma’s eyes were wide and filled with horror.
“No, Em. Listen to me.” I reached out and grabbed her hand. “This is not your fault. Mr. Cavan-ass is going to pay for this.”
She nodded slowly. “It’s a crime, isn’t it? Poisoning someone’s dog?”
“Yes.”
“Good. I’m going to put the evidence in a bag. You need me to do anything else? Pillows? This floor isn’t comfortable.”
I glanced at Jax. The Doberman had been standing nervously in the doorway to the bathroom. He knew something was very wrong with Moss. “Jax needs to be walked.”
“Got it.” Emma hopped up and began to flit around. I knew my sister was at her best when she could focus her energy on getting things organized and done. Emma brought me a blanket and some pillows. She walked Jax and warmed up some spaghetti for me, even though I’d told her I wasn’t hungry.
It had to have been well into the wee hours by the time I agreed to let Emma help me get Moss into a more comfortable spot in the bedroom.
Emma had made a huge pallet on the floor out of piles of blankets and throw pillows.
“He’s better, isn’t he?” she asked.
“I think so. It’s hard to tell. The vodka makes him sick and woozy and so does the poison. I won’t know ’til tomorrow.”
Emma nodded. “Don’t worry. He’s too stubborn to die, Gracie.”
“Thanks, Em. You’re the best sister in the world.”
“I know.” She shot me a cocky grin. I was probably the only person in the world who could see the undercurrent of worry and anger that came with it. Emma was pissed. If Cavanaugh thought he could drop the gauntlet on Emma’s balcony and get away unscathed, he had underestimated her.
He had underestimated both of us.
• • •
For the next few hours I lay on the floor with Moss. Jax had stretched out in front of the bedroom door and regularly got up to check on us, first sniffing Moss then looking at me. He was worried, knowing that his friend was sick and that I was upset.
My emotions had run the gamut from grief to worry and had finally settled into a fierce and chilling anger.
Jax let out a low growl in his sleep. He was picking up on my emotions. I immediately felt guilty. Jax had been through enough without having to deal with my baggage.
Sighing, I checked Moss’s IV and got up to go into the kitchen. Jax rolled onto his feet as I approached the doorway, looking up questioningly.
“He’s going to be okay, Jax.” I forced myself to believe it.
Jax glanced down at Moss, who was breathing more steadily now. Okay?
Don’t worry. “Come on, let’s get you some breakfast.”
Jax hesitated a moment before trotting into the kitchen behind me. I poured some food into the bowl and was reminded that I hadn’t eaten more than a few bites of spaghetti.
My stomach grumbled at the thought of food, a
nd I walked across the kitchen to grab a banana from the fruit bowl. I caught sight of a Ziploc bag on the counter, and stopped, hand extended mid-reach. My sister had put the bottle of antifreeze in the bag as evidence. Its blue-and-red logo clashed with the vibrant green smeared on the inside of the bag.
Seeing it made my stomach turn. With the vicious speed of a viper, I struck out, slapping the bottle to the floor. It hit with a hollow thud and skidded across the marble, landing at my sister’s slippered feet.
I watched Emma pick up the bag carefully by the corner and walk into the kitchen. Her face was calm. “Are you going to call Kai?”
“I should just find a way to pour that into Bert Cavanaugh’s morning coffee.”
Emma set the bag back on the counter. “I had considered that myself. Or an accidental tumble down the stairs . . .”
“Or a nice visit to the zoo. I’m sure I could talk one of the lions into eating him.” I felt the whisper of a smile play across my lips before I felt another surge of anger wipe it away. “Em, how can people be so . . . so . . .”
“Mean? Evil?” Emma moved around the counter and clasped both my hands. “They just are sometimes, sweetie. You know that.”
I did know. I’d seen it countless times in countless ways. Kittens tossed into a river, dogs with collars so tight they cut into the skin. But this time it was my dog, my friend.
Emma smoothed a hair from my rumpled ponytail back into place. “The only thing you can do is make sure he doesn’t get away with this.”
“I screwed it up, Em. How can I go to Kai and ask him to do me a favor when he thinks I’m a nut?”
“He doesn’t think you’re nuts, he thinks you’re a liar. Which gives you an advantage.”
“Right. I’m holding all the cards.”
“You are.” Emma flipped on the coffeemaker and turned back to me. “You have the advantage because you still have something he wants.”
I rolled my eyes. “Em . . .”
“Not that. Well, not just that.” She smiled. “Kai thinks you’re lying. So in his mind, you can still tell him the truth.”
Woof at the Door Page 24
