“Have a good teacher?”
“A couple of them.” She chewed, focusing a little too hard on her cake.
“She has a mentor,” I said. “Apparently, he’s been showing her the ropes.”
“Really?” Manny said. “He put you on any cases?”
He’d meant it as a joke, but Amelia didn’t take it that way. She immediately stiffened, a panicked look coming over her face.
Manny looked from her to me, eyebrows slowly climbing.
“I, um . . .” Amelia cleared her throat, and then looked to me for help.
Decision time. On one hand, Manny had every right to know his daughter was looking into his son’s case. He’d worry about her, but that’s what parents were supposed to do.
Then again, adding that worry to everything else might push him over the edge. I’d never known Manny to freak out too badly about anything, yet we’d never experienced anything quite like this before.
In the end, I opted for the truth. “She looked into someone involved in Ben’s case,” I said. “It’s just your basic background check, so she isn’t putting herself in any danger.”
Okay, so maybe I chickened out and didn’t tell him the whole truth. Everything had turned out fine, and I doubted Amelia would be knocking on any other murder suspect’s door any time soon, so there was no need to worry him.
Manny’s brow furrowed in concern for a moment, before he smiled. “Well, if you learn anything, be sure to tell that detective. What’s his name?”
“Detective Cavanaugh,” I provided.
“That’s the one,” he said, pointing his fork at me. “Maybe if you come up with something useful, he’ll decide to take you on as an intern or something. Are there detective assistants?”
“Not really,” Amelia said, still blushing furiously.
“Well, there should be,” Manny said. “I’m sure he’s under a ton of stress, and could use someone to help him out with the small stuff.”
Thankfully, conversation turned to more pleasant things then—mainly Stewie and Wheels. The dog looked ten years younger as he ran around the house, chasing after the cat. I think the sound of Wheels’s wheels on the hard wood had a lot to do with that. Every time the cat zipped by, Stewie’s ears would turn, and then he’d bounce after her, yapping away.
I knew it had to be getting on Joanne’s nerves, but right then, I didn’t care. If she came knocking, I’d put her in her place, and then walk away. Let her call the police. There wasn’t anything they could do.
We finished our cake slices nearly at the same moment. Amelia begged off seconds, claiming she had to study. Manny considered another, but opted to head for the shower with a warning that he was likely going to bed early tonight. He was yawning even as he left me alone with the animals.
I was tired too, but wasn’t so sure I’d be able to sleep. I put away the cake, cleaned up the dishes, and then decided it might be a good idea to at least try to catch a few hours of shut-eye.
“Come on, Stewie,” I said, leading the dog toward the room where he’d be staying the night. He ran inside, sniffed at the food and water, and then turned to me and whined. Wheels was behind me, watching, a forlorn look on her face. She knew what the room meant; it would be the end of her playtime.
“I can’t watch the two of you while I’m in bed,” I said, but even as the words came out of my mouth, I knew I wasn’t going to press the issue. “Fine,” I said, stepping aside. “Have at it.”
Stewie rushed toward Wheels, who spun in a wide circle. Her left wheel caught the wall, nearly tipping her over, but she managed to right herself and speed off before the Pomeranian could catch her. She skidded around the corner, and they were off toward the kitchen.
I let them play until the shower shut off and I heard Manny getting ready for bed. I forced the two of them to stop playing for a few minutes so I could take Stewie out for his nighttime potty break. He made quick work of it and whined to get back inside. As soon as Wheels saw him, she took off.
“Please, try not to destroy the house tonight,” I said, as I checked to make sure all the doors were locked. Once that was done, I headed to the bedroom. Manny was lying in bed, eyes already closed, and was snoring lightly. Amelia’s light snapped off as I got dressed in my PJs, telling me she was heading to bed as well.
I climbed beneath the covers, and despite the certainty I’d be getting no sleep, I found myself dozing off almost immediately.
It felt like a single minute had passed when my eyes shot open. I sat bolt upright in bed, head swimming with sleep. I had no idea what had awoken me, but whatever it was, it had Manny up too. He looked to me, eyes wide, and then quickly stood and went to the window to peer outside.
“What was that?” I asked as Amelia’s door opened. She poked her head out, hair a mess atop her head. I vaguely recalled hearing something, but couldn’t place what it was that had woken me.
“I don’t know,” Manny said, keeping his voice low.
Somewhere downstairs, Stewie started barking and growling. I was on my feet in an instant, heart pounding in my ears.
“Stay in your room,” Manny hissed, pointing at Amelia, who looked like she might argue at first, but thought better of it as she ducked back into her room and closed the door.
I started to follow Manny out of the bedroom, but he shook his head, pointing toward the bed like he expected me to stay there. I, of course, ignored him. There was no way I was going to stay behind when the animals could be in danger.
Please, let it be something the animals broke. But I knew it was unlikely, not with the ruckus the dog was making. Stewie didn’t sound like he was barking at a broken vase. Something—or someone—was out there. I didn’t know if it was in the house, or outside it, but something was indeed prowling around.
Manny peeked around the corner at the bottom of the stairs, and then started to back up, only to bump into me. He gave a little yelp, and then glared when he saw me.
“I told you to stay in the bedroom,” he whispered.
“Is someone out there?” I asked, refusing to get into it. I was already there, so there was no point in arguing.
He nodded. “I saw a shadow move outside. I’m going to call the police.” He retreated back upstairs, and into the bedroom, where his cell phone was charging.
The smart thing to do would be to follow him and wait until the police arrived, but Stewie was really barking and growling now. I’d also heard the faint tinkle of glass, as if someone had knocked a few shards free from a window. It was followed by an increase in the yaps, and I knew someone was trying to get inside.
Instead of heading for the bedroom, I found myself moving toward the dining room and the sound of the barks. I would not allow anything to happen to Stewie—not on my watch. I slid into the dining room, to the hutch there. I remained at a crouch as I opened the drawer and removed a large pair of scissors I kept there. Duly armed, I made for Stewie, who was at the back door.
I saw nothing at first. Wheels was nowhere in sight, and I hoped that meant she was hiding somewhere safe. Stewie was lunging at the back door, and I thought I heard someone hiss in a pained breath. Good dog, I thought. I hoped he’d drawn blood.
Scissors clutched in hand, I eased forward, eyes wide in the dark. I couldn’t see much of anything, at least, not at first. A hand appeared, reaching in through a busted window beside the back door. Fumbling fingers reached for the latch, but before they found purchase, Stewie leapt up, teeth gnashing. The hand withdrew quickly.
Heart in my throat, I considered my options. Someone was trying to break into my house, but Stewie was holding them at bay for now. How much longer before they risked a bite to get inside? So far, it didn’t appear as if the would-be thief had noticed me. The only lights on inside were two night-lights. One was upstairs in the hall by the bedrooms, the other in the hall near where the fostered animals would stay. No lights were on outside, and the moon was mostly covered by clouds, making it practically pitch-black out there.
>
I could very likely get to the door without the would-be intruder knowing, and then stab them in the hand when they next reached through. But, Stewie might react to my presence, giving me away.
And what if they have a gun ?
There was no question who would have the advantage then.
But I couldn’t stand there and do nothing.
I started forward, not sure what I was going to do, only knowing that I wasn’t going to let whoever was outside in. I was almost to the door, scissors poised and ready, when the dining room light flicked on, blinding me.
“Liz?” Manny asked, but I paid him no mind. A yelp, followed by the sound of scuffling feet, told me the intruder was beating a hasty retreat.
I rushed for the door and tried to jerk it open, but was stymied by the lock. Cursing under my breath, I flipped the lock, opened the door, and hurried outside, making sure to close the door behind me so Stewie wouldn’t follow me out.
Eyes scanning the dark backyard, I didn’t see anyone at first, and then I noticed movement to my left. It was a person, but they were wearing a hoodie, with the hood up, and loose-fitting pants, so I couldn’t tell if it was a man or a woman. They weren’t much bigger than me, which I took as a good sign. If it came down to a struggle, I hoped I could hold my own.
“Hey!” I shouted, scissors still clutched in my hands. “Stop!”
Needless to say, they didn’t listen.
I gave chase, but after only three or four steps, I stopped. I was in my bare feet, in my pajamas, with only scissors for a weapon. Not only was it unlikely I’d catch the intruder in my current state, but I had no idea how well prepared they were for a fight. A knife would work just as well as a gun at stopping me.
“Liz!” Manny shouted behind me. He sounded panicked.
“I’m okay,” I said, turning back to him. The intruder was long gone. An engine fired up down the street somewhere, and wheels screeched as the intruder raced away.
Manny gathered me into his arms. “Don’t do that to me!” he said, hugging me tight.
“I’m all right.” I turned back to the house so he wouldn’t see the worry in my eye. I might not be hurt, but I was trembling. Someone tried to break into my house! “Let’s get inside.” I said, voice surprisingly strong. “They’re gone.”
Manny peered into the darkness, and then nodded.
Together, we headed inside to wait for the police to arrive.
23
I nearly jumped from the couch at the knock on the door. My heart, which had just resumed its normal pace, started thumping again. I felt sick, violated, and the intruder hadn’t even gotten into the house. The more time I had to think about it, the worse I felt.
“I’ll get it,” Manny said, rising. “It’s probably the police.” He headed for the door.
“We’re okay, Mom,” Amelia reassured me. “Nothing got stolen. It’s just a broken window.”
“I know.” I tried on a smile, but it faded quickly. A broken window was one thing; a broken sense of security was another.
Stewie was sleeping at my feet. The old dog had either not heard the door, or chose to ignore it. I’d spent the last ten minutes petting him, telling him how good of a dog he was for warning us that someone was trying to break in. If he hadn’t been there, running free, there’s no telling what would have happened. Were we dealing with a thief? Or was it the killer, come to silence those of us looking into Timothy’s death?
Wheels was beside Amelia, squirming to be let down. Amelia kept her hold on her, not wanting to risk losing the cat. For all her reassurances, I could tell she was shaken, and was scared not just for us, but for the animals as well.
Manny returned, Detective Cavanaugh in his wake. The detective looked tired, as if he’d been sleeping when he’d gotten the call. Why they hadn’t sent a regular cop, I didn’t know. It probably had something to do with Timothy’s murder, and our family’s connection to it.
“Mrs. Denton,” Cavanaugh said, stopping just inside the living room. He nodded once to me, and then Amelia, before his eyes started roaming, cataloging the layout of the house.
Manny sat down on the couch next to me, and put his arm protectively around my shoulders. I didn’t sag into him, but appreciated the gesture nonetheless.
“Detective,” I said. “Thanks for coming.”
He grunted, and then his gaze fell on the snoozing dog. There was the briefest tightening of his jaw, but he didn’t comment. “Is everyone all right?”
“We’re fine,” I said, though I felt anything but. “A window is busted, but otherwise, we’re all okay. It was probably just a burglar.”
Cavanaugh didn’t look convinced. He strode across the room, to peer into the dining room, at the back door, and the window beside it. I’d swept the glass into a pile, but left it beneath the window in case he wanted to check it for evidence. He stared at it for a few minutes, and then turned back to us.
“Walk me through what happened.”
“There isn’t much to tell,” Manny said.
“Humor me.”
I took the lead and gave him a quick rundown of everything I knew. As Manny said, there wasn’t much I could tell him, so it only took a couple of minutes.
“We were asleep when it happened,” I said. “He broke the window, and when Manny turned on the light, he ran.”
“Are you sure it was a he?”
“No,” I admitted. “But something about the way he moved makes me think it was. It’s nothing I can put my finger on.”
“Is that all you can tell me?” Cavanaugh asked, looking down at his notepad. There hadn’t been much for him to write down.
“That’s it,” I said. “We woke up to the sound of Stewie barking, and then I chased off the would-be thief. After that, it’s been quiet.”
“I see.” This time, when Cavanaugh went to the dining room, he went all the way to the back door and looked outside. He tried the door, found it to be locked, and then unlocked it. Without so much as another word, he opened the door and stepped outside.
“Stay here,” I told Manny and Amelia, rising.
“Are you sure you should go out there?” Manny asked.
“I’ll be fine,” I said. “The burglar’s gone, and the detective is here. I want to make sure there’s nothing else he needs from me.”
Manny nodded, but didn’t look comfortable with letting me go. I squeezed his forearm, shot Amelia a comforting smile, and then followed the detective outside.
Cavanaugh had a small penlight on and was using it to scan the ground around the broken window. A couple shards of glass twinkled in the light, but, as far as I could tell, there was little else.
“Which way did he go?” he asked, turning the light on me.
I pointed. “He went that way. I heard a car start up shortly after I lost sight of him. I’m guessing he parked down the street and took off from there.”
Cavanaugh stared off in the direction I pointed, as if he could see into the past. I had to admit, he had detective eyes. It wouldn’t surprise me if he could deduce something just from looking at where the culprit had been.
“Any idea how long it took before you heard the car? A minute? A few seconds?”
“I’m not sure,” I said. “I think it was only a few seconds, but in all the excitement, it could have been longer.”
“And you didn’t recognize the person?”
“Like I said, I never got a good look at him.” I followed Cavanaugh’s gaze, but there was nothing to see. “It could have been a random break-in,” I said.
“Do you really believe that?”
“Well, no. But I don’t want to think about the alternative.”
“You say the dog woke you?”
“He did. He was barking up a storm and growling. It scared me. I’m not sure, but I think it was the glass breaking that woke me. I was dreaming one second, and wide awake the next, with no real idea why, until I heard Stewie.”
Cavanaugh turned off the penlight, bu
t didn’t make for the door. “There’s been no recent reports of break-ins around here,” he said.
“We could have been the first. Or maybe it was a one-off job, kids causing trouble or something.”
“The dog wasn’t caged?” Cavanaugh asked, sounding as if it surprised him.
“No, he wasn’t. He got along with Wheels just fine, so I figured it wouldn’t hurt anything to leave him out to play.”
“Wheels?” Cavanaugh asked, sounding skeptical.
“You saw her,” I said. “It fits.”
“I see.” He cleared his throat, frowned. “It seems that dog has been at the center of quite a lot of trouble lately, hasn’t he?”
“It’s not his fault.”
“No, I’m sure it’s not.” He stretched and rubbed at the back of his neck, before stifling a yawn. “But someone finds him interesting.”
“You think someone came here to steal Stewie?”
He spread his hands. “I’m not sure what to think. The dog was present when Mr. Fuller was murdered. Now that he’s here, your house gets broken into.”
“Almost,” I said, though the distinction was minor.
“You’ve had no issues before with break-ins. There’s no recent activity in this area. No warning signs. Whoever was here, I’d put money on it that it had something to do with that dog.”
My chest tightened. “Could it have been something else?” If someone was indeed after Stewie, I wasn’t sure what I was going to do. I couldn’t protect him, not indefinitely. And I definitely couldn’t pass him on to the Lincolns if there was a chance someone might come after him there.
“Could it?” Cavanaugh asked. “Have you seen anyone strange around here lately? Any cars or people walking slowly by?”
“No.”
“Any random calls? People calling at late hours, hanging up when you answer?”
“None that I recall.”
“Have you interacted with anyone involved in the murder? Talked to them about the case, about Timothy Fuller or his dog?”
“You know I have.”
The Pomeranian Always Barks Twice Page 20
