Foxfire

by Carol Ann Erhardt

  Adam nodded. “You're lucky she sees you as a friend.”

  “Grace is your friend, too, Adam.”

  “Nah. I don't think she likes me much.”

  “Why not?” Brad helped himself to a cookie.

  Adam pushed back his hat and scratched his head.

  “I asked her to dinner and she turned me down. And her dog hates me.”

  “Tiffany? She likes everybody.”

  Adam shook his head. “Not me. I think she knows I'm scared of her.”

  “Thought you'd gotten over being afraid of dogs.”

  Adam's eyes opened wider. “I tried, but it didn't work. Dogs still scare the beejeezus out of me. Especially big dogs. Grace lets hers run loose all the time. That's not good. Look what happened to Lainey's dog the other day when that car hit it.” He shook his head. “Grace should be more careful.”

  Adam gobbled another cookie. Crumbs floated on the top of his coffee, but he didn't seem bothered.

  “Want another cup?” Brad asked.

  “Sure.” Adam pushed his mug toward Brad. “I've missed our visits. Figured you were too busy for your old friends.”

  “I've been busy, but I never forget my friends. As a matter of fact, I want to invite you to dinner next Sunday. I've already invited Harri and Grace. And Tyler. You could ask Lainey.”

  “Does Grace know you're inviting me?”

  “Yes.” He didn't think God would hold one fib against him. Especially since it was for a good cause.

  Adam's face lit. “Really? And she wasn't upset?”

  “Not upset, but she's a bit concerned about the roses you're leaving her.”

  “Roses? Me?” His hand, wielding another cookie, stopped short of his mouth. His eyes seemed to double in size.

  Adam couldn't be that good an actor. He obviously knew nothing about it.

  “I never gave her any flowers,” he said.

  Brad poured two fresh mugs of coffee and handed one to Adam. He took a sip before responding. “Hmmm. She thought it was you.”

  “What about Tyler? I saw the two of them kissing.”

  “Uh-uh. The first one was left the day Connor came to her house. You were there that day, weren't you?”

  “What is this, the third degree?” Adam rose from the chair.

  Brad patted his arm. “Sorry. I just wondered if he might have left it.”

  “That bum? Doubt if he'd do anything nice like that. He was real mean to Grace. I told her if he came back to let me know. I'd like to have a piece of him, I would.” Adam stuffed the cookie in his mouth and sat down.

  “Looks like we've got a mystery on our hands. Someone's been leaving those roses. She found another one after we got home from dinner last night.”

  Adam leaned both forearms on the table, putting his face closer to Brad's. He looked left and right as if expecting someone to overhear. “We ought to keep an eye on her house. Maybe we can catch the guy in the act. We don't want anything bad to happen to Grace.”

  Brad's scalp crawled. “What do you mean?”

  Adam stopped chewing, mouth agape, showing more than Brad cared to see. “Are you kidding me? With all the murders?”

  “In Knoxville. Not Foxfire. There's no one here who would hurt a soul.” Or was there?

  “Maybe so, but we have to be careful. Bad things happen even in safe communities, you know.”

  Brad wondered if Adam was telling the truth. Would he lie to a friend? If Adam wasn't the one leaving the flowers, who could it be?

  ****

  Grace stood beside her living room window and stared at Adam from behind the veil of curtains. She glanced nervously at her watch. She couldn't stall too much longer or she'd be late for work. Why was he waiting for her?

  Steeling herself for the worst, Grace stepped outside and pulled the door shut behind her. Readjusting her purse strap over her shoulder she waved. “Hi, Adam.”

  He nodded. “I've been waiting for you.”

  Tiffany ran toward him and he backed away nervously.

  “Tiffany, stop.”

  She did. She sat close to Adam's feet.

  Surprised that she didn't growl, Grace wondered if she was wrong about Adam. Tiffany didn't seem upset to see him. Maybe Adam hadn't been the one who'd followed them to Hannah Falls.

  “I think she's trying to make friends with you.”

  Adam held a trembling hand down and Tiffany sniffed.

  “See? Go ahead and pet her.” Would Tiffany be so passive if Adam was a threat? No way.

  Adam stretched a hand out, but Tiffany moved away.

  He snatched his hand to his chest, his eyes widening fearfully. “She doesn’t like me.” Adam's gaze met Grace's. “You really should keep her on a leash.”

  Out of the question. There were no restrictions in Foxfire. Besides, Tiffany was a free spirit. And regardless of Adam's fear, she knew her dog wouldn't hurt a soul. She bit back a sharp retort, knowing it would serve no purpose. “Did you need something, Adam?”

  “I'll walk you to work,” he said. “I want to talk to you about the roses.”

  Adam kept pace as they walked toward the clinic, while Tiffany raced ahead.

  “Brad told me it wasn't you who left them.”

  “And that's the truth. But somebody did, that's for sure.”

  “Yes, somebody did.” Grace still felt it was Adam.

  “What about Tyler? You two seem to be pretty friendly.”

  There it was again, a spark of jealousy. “No. I was coming back from visiting the clinic the first time I found a rose. It wasn't there when I left the house. That was the day Connor stopped by. I'm sure you remember. You were there.”

  She tried, but couldn't keep the accusation from popping out.

  Adam stopped walking. “And because of that, you think it was me?”

  She shrugged, then grabbed for her falling purse strap. “I thought since you asked me out…”

  “You turned me down, didn't you?” His voice rose. “Why would I leave flowers for a woman who won't even have dinner with me?”

  She had to tell him the truth, make him understand once and for all that she wasn't interested in him romantically. “Adam, I don't want to hurt your feelings. I think of you as a friend, nothing more.”

  He stared straight ahead. “I only want to be your friend, Grace. I care about you, but not...” His face reddened. “I've got a girlfriend already.”

  She sighed with relief. “That's wonderful, Adam. I'm happy for you, and I'm sorry I misread your intentions. Forgive me?”

  “No hard feelings between friends.” He grinned at her.

  “I've got to hurry so I'm not late for work.” Grace began to walk away.

  Adam kept in step until they came to the end of the path and turned to face her. “You be careful, Grace. You never know what kind of perverts there are in this world. Look at all the women who've been murdered right here under our noses.”

  Grace ffoze. “That happened in Knoxville, not here.”

  Adam's intense gaze pinned her. “Didn't you read the paper this morning? They found another dead body.” He pulled his cap lower and leaned toward her as if sharing a secret. “In the woods behind the restaurant. No place is safe.” Without a further word, he turned and strode away.

  Behind the restaurant? A trace of fear set up residence. She hadn't read the paper this morning. If what Adam said was true, a total of five women had been killed now. She shivered.

  All murdered with a knife. The woods suddenly seemed to have eyes. She ran the rest of the way to the clinic.

  ****

  Tyler heard the door open and peered around the doorframe. His heart picked up cadence when he saw Grace. She rushed toward him.

  “What's wrong?”

  “Nothing.”

  She grabbed her lab coat from the hook.

  “Something happened. You look like you've seen a ghost.”

  “No ghost. Just Adam.”

  He leaned against the desk.

&nbs
p; “What did he do this time?”

  “I swear everything he says sounds like a threat.”

  She shoved her arms into the lab coat.

  “Whoa. Adam threatened you?”

  Grace lifted her shoulders in a shrug. “I don't know. It seemed that way. He's a very strange person.”

  “What did he say?”

  “It's nothing. I overreacted. He does that to me.”

  Before Tyler could question her further, the doorbell jangled, signaling their first patient for the day. Over the next few hours, Tyler and Grace were too busy for small talk. While grateful for the business, he longed for a break so he could learn more about her conversation with Adam.

  After ushering out the last patient before the lunch break, Tyler leaned over the reception counter. “Lunch? I've got ham sandwiches with lettuce and mayo.”

  She looked up, her eyes growing a deeper blue.

  The telephone rang and Grace snatched it, muttering a fast “Foxfire Animal Clinic.” Her face paled. “He's here. Please hold.” She hit the hold button and looked up at Tyler. “It's Mr. Jacobson. His dog is really sick.”

  Tyler put the phone to his ear, and as he listened his heart sank. He assured Mr. Jacobson that he'd come right away, then handed the phone to Grace, asking her to get directions. He hurried to the back of the office.

  A few minutes later, he returned with his medical bag. She held up a slip of paper. “Here you go.”

  “Grace, would you mind coming with me? I'm afraid I'll have to put his dog down. I could use your help.”

  She nodded, tears shimmering in her eyes. “Okay.” She grabbed several tissues and stuffed them into her pocket.

  “Would you navigate?” Tyler asked.

  “Sure.”

  They climbed into his truck.

  “I don't know if I can do this.” Grace's voice broke.

  Tyler reached for her hand and squeezed it. “This is going to be hard. I shouldn't have asked you to come.” He glanced at her profile. She lifted her chin, a familiar gesture, and his heart did that crazy jig again.

  “I'm fine.”

  He put the truck in gear and drove off, following her directions through the back roads. Soon they pulled into a gravel drive next to a small but well-kept house. A man opened the door and waited while they climbed from the truck. He leaned heavily on a cane, his hands crippled and withered from arthritis and age. His keen brown eyes peered at them from behind gold-framed glasses. “Thanks for coming, Doctor Sandford.”

  Tyler held out a hand. “Call me Tyler, Mr. Jacobson, and this is Grace Wilkins.”

  “Pleased to meet you. Spanky's in the bedroom.”

  He turned and walked away, surprisingly fast despite his handicap.

  Tyler knelt beside the large short-haired dog. Spanky looked as if he was part German Shepherd. The dog wagged his tail, but made no effort to rise.

  “He's been that way all day. I tried to get him on his feet, but he just lays there. I gave him food and water, but he hasn't touched either one.”

  The haze over the dark eyes told Tyler the dog had impaired vision. His muzzle, which had once been dark, was now heavily peppered with white. Tyler did a quick examination. “Did he vomit or show any signs of distress?”

  “He threw up this morning. I heard a noise and found him thrashing around like he was trying to get to his feet. Then he just flopped over on his side. What do you think's wrong?”

  Tyler lifted his gaze to the old man. “I'm sorry, Mr. Jacobson. It looks like he had a stroke. I doubt he'll ever walk again.” He paused, letting the information hang in the air. The dog should be put to sleep, but he didn't want to be the first to mention it.

  The old man stared into the distance. “Call me Will. Short for William, after my dad.” He shuffled to the bed and sat on the mattress. “You're thinking he should be put down, aren't you?”

  Grace took a ragged breath. Tyler caught the sheen in her eyes, though she clearly struggled to maintain a calm façade. How could he have ever thought she had been part of Max's network? Everything she'd said at the trial was true. She hadn't known about Max's illegal affairs. If anything, Grace had been a victim, too. He took Grace's hand and gave it a gentle squeeze, then turned to Mr. Jacobson.

  “I'm sorry, but I think it would be the humane thing at this point.”

  Will nodded.

  “He's been my best friend for nearly sixteen years. My wife, Helen, got him for me before she passed on. Guess it's time for him to be with her now.”

  Grace put her free arm around the old man's shoulder. “He was lucky to have such a wonderful home, Mr. Jacobson.”

  Tyler dreaded what he had to do. Putting an animal to sleep was the worst part of being a vet. Watching the owner's pain, the brief indecision, the guilt, and then the overpowering sorrow.

  Will said, “It's his time. I just wish I could have gone first.”

  “Would you like to stay with him?” Tyler asked.

  Will nodded.

  “Do you have a sheet we can use?” Tyler asked. He glanced at Grace. She swallowed visibly.

  Will removed a quilt from the foot of the bed and handed it to Tyler. “This do?”

  Tyler nodded. “We're going to lift him to the bed next to you.”

  Unashamedly, tears streamed from Will's eyes. He removed his glasses and pulled a handkerchief from his back pocket. “Thank you.”

  Tyler maneuvered the heavy dog onto the blanket, receiving a friendly tongue kiss. He and Grace each took up the ends of the quilt and lifted the dog to the bed.

  The sadness in Grace's eyes knifed through Tyler's heart. He wanted to pull her into his arms and tell her he could give the dog a magic pill to restore his health, but that was beyond his capabilities. At times like this, he questioned his choice of profession, but on the plus side, he spent most of his time healing and feeling he was contributing something positive to the world. In his dual occupation of agent, there was always another scumbag to take the place of the ones they caught. That's another reason he couldn't wait to get turn in his gun.

  Will placed his hand on Spanky's head. He talked softly about watching over Helen until he could join them.

  Tyler filled a syringe, sucking up the liquid that would end the dog's life. Who was he to play God? His hands trembled. He looked into Spanky's eyes and swore he could see into his soul. The dog rolled his gaze up to his owner, then back to Tyler. Intelligence lived in that gaze...and acceptance...and forgiveness.

  Will looked up, nodded, and Tyler inserted the needle.

  He swallowed the lump in his throat, watching Will's hand guiding the dog toward peace. He felt the pain of Will's loss. Had Natalie known he loved her at the moment she took her last breath? Had he told her he loved her, let her know the depth of his feelings? He hadn't given her the one thing she asked for. More of himself. He'd wanted to, but somehow the job always pulled more of his time than he planned. He got caught up in the thrill of the chase and the glory of the capture, forgetting how much he'd always loved working with animals. He glanced back at Spanky. It was over. He'd taken a life. Tyler waited a few more minutes, then gently placed his stethoscope on the dog's chest.

  He looked up at Will. “He's gone.”

  Will's tears streamed down his face as he continued to stroke his beloved friend.

  Grace murmured, “I'm so sorry, Mr. Jacobson.”

  Will blew his nose loudly and stuffed the handkerchief in his back pocket. “He's with Helen now. He'll watch over her until it's my time.”

  “You should get another dog,” Grace said.

  Will shook his head. “I don't think so.” He ran his hand down Spanky's side. He raised his head and looked at Tyler. “I'd like to bury him out back among the trees. That was his favorite spot.”

  Tyler started to protest, then remembered he wasn't in the city and no one would mind an animal being buried in the back yard. Besides, how could he say no? “I'll be glad to help,” he offered.

  “So wo
uld I,” Grace said.

  “Thank you. These arms aren't quite what they used to be.”

  ****

  The closer she came to home, the faster Grace ran. Watching Tyler bury Mr. Jacobson's dog was one of the hardest things Grace ever endured. She'd held back the tears until she'd escaped Tyler's presence. She'd even managed to console Mr. Jacobson without breaking down. Now all she wanted to do was hug her dog.

  Grace ran across the yard, her face burning from the sun's heat. “Tiffany!”

  She yelled louder, hurrying to the back porch where Tiffany liked to slumber. Tiffany raised her head, then slowly got to her feet, stretched her legs and neck, then shook herself. She barked a greeting, then loped to Grace's side, tail waving.

  Grace threw her arms around the dog and squeezed so hard Tiffany gave a soft yelp.

  “I'm sorry, girl.” Grace cradled Tiffany's head between her hands and gazed into her soulful eyes. “I love you.” She kissed the cold wet nose.

  Tiffany squirmed free and ran a circled path in the yard. Her long fur drifted like silk in the wind, her ears perked, and her eyes danced with mischief.

  Grace's smile pushed away the tears that earlier clogged her throat. What would she do without Tiffany? She'd fallen in love with the ball of fur from the moment she'd popped her head out of the box Brad had garnished with Christmas wrapping and ribbon. She couldn't bear to think of the day she'd have to say goodbye like poor Mr. Jacobson did today.

  Her heart went out to the brave old man who'd lost his wife and now his furry companion. She wanted to do something to ease his pain. Maybe she and Tiffany could go and visit him from time to time. She could bake him some cookies or brownies, spend a few hours talking to him, letting him reminisce. Yes, definitely she'd make time to do that.

  “Come on, Tiffany. Let's go visit Brad.”

  As usual, the dog bounded ahead, already knowing their destination. Brad sat on the back porch, shucking a batch of corn. She sat next to him, grabbed an ear and pulled the husk and silk away from the golden yellow kernels.

  “What's wrong, darlin'?”

  She smiled into Brad's clear blue eyes. “I can't visit my best friend without something being wrong?”