Identity Issues (The Samantha Series)

by Whitsitt, Claudia

  "There, there, boy," Johnson comforted.

  I stood, placed the jar on a side table, and went to Rex. "It’s gonna be okay, boy," I told him.

  "The jar?" Doc Johnson said as he handed me a towel to clean Rex.

  "On the table behind you." As I spoke, I wiped Rex’s mouth and tried to soothe him.

  Johnson opened the jar, sniffed the contents, and nodded, his expression grim.

  "I’m afraid it’s anti–freeze. Toxic for dogs. It has a sweet taste, so animals are drawn to it."

  Stunned, I stared at him. Someone put anti–freeze in my driveway so Rex would drink it and get sick? I couldn’t believe it. How could anyone do this? Especially to Rex? "Oh, my God. What do we do?"

  "It’ll be okay, Sam. I’m going to start an IV and administer an anti–dote. If we can minimize the renal damage, he should make a good recovery. He was only by himself for a few hours, correct?"

  I nodded, numbly trying to absorb what doc had said, what had happened. Someone had poisoned my dog. Purposely. I knew only one person who might do such a thing. Jon Stitsill. The man who’d poisoned Rosie. The man who’d stolen my husband’s identity and now wanted to hurt me. But why? I watched Doc insert a needle into Rex’s side. I felt suddenly nauseous.

  "Are you all right, Samantha?" Doc Johnson put his hand on my shoulder. "Let me get you a chair. You’re looking a little green. You just sit down right here." He guided me into the red vinyl seat. "Put your head between your knees." Doc put his hand on my back and waited.

  The room spun. I told myself to breathe. In and out. In and out. Nice and slow. I couldn’t get my sea legs under me no matter how hard I tried. I lost track of where I was, which way was up, which way was down. I felt like I was floating, and I just wanted the world to stop spinning. White noise filled the air.

  The next thing I knew, I smelled ammonia. I jerked back to the present.

  The climb back from the deep abyss was dark and slow. Scared, weak, and still shaking, I focused on Doc’s long legs as he stood before me.

  "How are you doing?"

  I lifted my head ever so slightly and saw his kind face. "Better, I think. I just feel weak."

  "Well, you’ve had a scare, just like Rex here. You’d be surprised how many humans I treat right along with their pets. Now, if you’re feeling steadier, I want to make sure we get Rex what he needs."

  I nodded. "Take care of him, please."

  Slowly, ever so slowly, I felt the life coming back to me. Still shaky, but feeling more human, I watched Doc Johnson monitor Rex’ vitals.

  "How is he?" I asked.

  "He’s better. No more seizing. No vomiting. I think he’s out of the woods for the time being. The cocktail is doing its work." Doc patted Rex with his baseball mitt–sized palm and turned to me. "What about you? How are you feeling?"

  "Much better." I smiled to reassure him.

  I glanced at the IV. "What do you use?" I asked, trying to regain my bearings.

  "Activated charcoal. Now, go home and get some rest. There’s nothing more to be done right now. Rex and I will hang out for a day or two. I’ve got your number, and I can give you a call if need be." Doc took my arm and led me to the reception area after I hugged Rex.

  Feeling a bit stronger, I climbed into the van. I started the engine and headed down the road, retracing my route. As I made my way home, I thought about Stitsill setting out a dish of poison for my dog. Why, damn it? Thank God the kids were at the lake, safe from all this madness.

  I parked in the garage and lingered there, afraid to go into the house. I couldn’t call Jon or Di. I pulled out my cell and dialed McGrath’s phone number.

  Chapter Thirty–Six

  HE ANSWERED ON the third ring.

  "Hey. What’s up?"

  "I just returned from the vet. Someone may have poisoned my dog. Poisoned Rex. I can’t believe this. Now, I don’t know if I should go into the house or not."

  "Where are you now?" McGrath demanded.

  "I’m sitting in the garage at my house."

  "Are you okay to drive?"

  "Yes, I think so."

  "Don’t go into the house. In fact, drive to the coffee house. I’ll meet you there in about twenty, twenty–five minutes. If you notice anyone following you or see anyone or anything that looks the least bit suspicious, leave. Do you know where your local police station is?" he asked.

  "Yes," I answered.

  "Drive there immediately if anything at all seems out of the ordinary," McGrath directed.

  "Got it." I shifted the van into reverse, backed out of the driveway and eased the car down the road the two short miles to the coffee house. Our small town had zipped up tight for the night. Only two cars passed by the closed shop as I waited out front. All seemed well.

  I was cold, more scared than I had ever been in my life, and feeling like the biggest fool on the planet. Jack had warned me to mind my own business and to stay out of trouble. Putting my beloved Rex in danger left me feeling angry and ready to strike back.

  Who would poison my dog? A coincidence didn’t seem likely.

  Headlights reflected off of my rearview mirror. I squinted, recognizing McGrath. Bubble on and flashing, he’d kept the siren silent. Good decision. I needed him, but I didn’t want to draw attention to myself or my vehicle.

  I waited while he stepped out of his car and walked up to my van before I unlocked my door.

  "Thanks for coming," I said.

  "You alright?"

  "Tough night, but I’m fine. Worried about Rex, but mostly, I’m furious. I’m afraid Stitsill poisoned my dog. It’s one thing if someone wants to take me on, but to hurt a defenseless dog?"

  "You have every right to be angry, but all the evidence isn’t in yet," McGrath cautioned.

  "I know, but after what happened to Rex tonight, I thought it might be stupid for me to go into the house alone."

  "You made the right decision. I’ll follow you home. Don’t pull into the garage. Back into the driveway so you have a clean exit, if need be. I’ll pull in beside you, then go in first and make sure there’s no one inside."

  "Are you sure? I could come inside with you," I said as if I could somehow protect him.

  "Time for the teacher to follow instructions," McGrath said.

  I drove home, making sure he kept pace with me. After I backed into the drive, I watched as he parked, stepped out of his car, and approached mine. I rolled down my window.

  "Give me the house key. I’ll be right back. Lock the van doors. Drive to the police station if anything seems odd."

  "Should you call for backup?"

  "I’m a cop, remember?" He smiled. "I got it."

  I watched McGrath draw his gun and hold it against his thigh as he approached the house. I shuddered and wrapped my arms around myself. I couldn’t warm up.

  He returned a few minutes later, talking on his cell phone as he walked. He ended the call just as he reached me.

  "Everything alright?" I asked as I stepped out of the van.

  McGrath placed his hand behind my elbow to guide me through the garage. When he paused, I met his gaze.

  "The good news is, there’s no one inside. The bad news, someone’s been here, obviously looking for something. It’s a train wreck, so prepare yourself. And don’t touch anything. Clear?"

  I nodded, too shocked to speak.

  "I have some local officers on their way. They’ll be along in thirty minutes or so. I asked them to allow you time to do a quick inventory. Now, give me a quick summary of what you found before you delivered Rex to the vet’s office."

  I did as he asked, filling him in on the events of the past few hours.

  After I finished, McGrath sighed and shook his head. "My best guess is that someone wanted the dog sidelined to allow easy access to your home. The entry point appears to be the door from your back deck."

  I managed to say, "This is unreal."

  "Let’s go inside," McGrath said. "You might be able to figure out what
they were looking for by what’s been disturbed. And remember, touch nothing. You don’t want to disturb possible evidence."

  "Alright," I whispered as I tucked my hands into my pockets.

  McGrath stroked my cheek with his fingertips. "Good girl." He guided me inside, down the back hall, and into my ransacked kitchen.

  I stumbled alongside McGrath as we made a tour of the destruction. My beautiful home resembled the aftermath of a hurricane. Thank God the kids were with their grandparents, because it would take an entire summer to set the place right.

  We silently returned to the kitchen. McGrath settled me into the only chair still upright, found a glass and a bottle of bourbon, and poured me a healthy shot.

  Words weren’t necessary. McGrath protectively rested his hand on my shoulder as I took one sip, then another. My racing heart slowed to a gallop, and the white noise filling my head eased.

  My cell phone vibrated in my pocket a few minutes later.

  "Yes?" I said when I recognized the number on the screen. "Thank you, Doc. I’ll call you tomorrow."

  I touched the red button, ending the call. Tears stung my eyes and spilled onto my cheeks.

  "Sam?" McGrath squatted down in front of me, his hands resting on my knees. "What is it?"

  I couldn’t speak. Instead, I gulped the last of the bourbon.

  "Rex is gone," he said. Not a question. A statement of fact. He took the empty glass from me and placed it on the table. I watched through tear–flooded eyes. McGrath spoke again with gentle authority. "You’re not staying here tonight. You’re coming to my place. We’ll pick up anything you need on the way."

  I nodded. We walked out to my van. Before we drove off into the moonlit night, he recontacted the local P.D., summarized the break–in, and requested that evidence technicians and a detective be dispatched to my violated home, even though we’d had to leave. They’d report directly to McGrath once they completed their investigation. I climbed into the van, locked the doors, and followed McGrath’s vehicle.

  Chapter Thirty–Seven

  HE LED ME into his bedroom, placed my backpack on a chair next to the bed, and went in search of sheets. Grabbing a t–shirt and shorts from my bag, I ducked into the adjoining bathroom with my toothbrush and paste. I went through the motions, washing my face, brushing my teeth, and trying to ignore the shell–shocked expression on my face.

  McGrath tapped on the door. "You okay?" he asked.

  "I’m alright. Be out in a minute."

  "Take your time."

  A few minutes later, I sat atop the couch, my legs curled up under me, a steaming mug of hot tea cupped between my palms. I paused for a measured breath.

  "You’ve had quite a day," McGrath observed. "Ever feel like you’re living in a soap opera?"

  I laughed. "You’re starting to remind me of my friend Jack, from work."

  He frowned. "Who’s Jack?"

  "You sound…" I smiled, despite the late hour and the events of the last few hours, and shook my head.

  "What?" He looked sheepish.

  "You can’t be…" I narrowed my eyes as I stopped to read his face. "Are you… jealous?"

  McGrath muttered a foul word as he flushed with obvious discomfort.

  I laughed, unable to control my reaction. "Aren’t you jealous of my husband?"

  "No. That’s the weird thing. He doesn’t seem real, so I just block him out. I don’t want to offend you, but you don’t seem married. Your husband probably made you even more independent without ever meaning to or really wanting to."

  "What do you mean?" I asked.

  "He’s never home, right?" McGrath waited.

  "He isn’t around much," I admitted.

  "You’ve had to do everything. Fend for yourself. Handle crises with the kids, the dog, your job, the house."

  I read the caring protectiveness in his eyes. Jon’s eyes hadn’t reflected that emotion in too many years to count. "I guess so."

  "You’re the kind of woman who shouldn’t be alone."

  "What’s that supposed to mean? I need some man around?" The totality of the past few days caught up with me. I almost felt embarrassed by my outburst.

  "No, that’s not what I mean, and you know it. You are a bright, beautiful, and capable woman. I watched you and your friend today at the river’s edge. You were laughing, full of life, strong, making sure your friend was okay, taking care of yourself."

  "Was that today? It seems like eons ago."

  McGrath ignored me. "You’re the kind of woman designed to share life, not live it alone."

  "You’re detecting, Detective McGrath, and I don’t know how much of that I can take right now."

  "Sorry." He reached out and brushed a curly lock from my cheek.

  I looked up at him, his eyes blue, so inviting. I could drown in them, I realized.

  I set aside my mug and turned back to him.

  A heartbeat later, he cupped my face in his hands, and drew me close—close enough to feel the wash of his breath across my cheeks and the heat emanating from his body. His lips brushed mine. I sank into a multitude of sensations, a moan escaping and startling me. I placed my hands on his chest, and backed away.

  "I should get some sleep," I said when I could speak.

  McGrath nodded. "I understand."

  "I’m sorry." I regretted the words, but I knew they were the right ones.

  "I should be the one to apologize," he said.

  "No apology necessary." I willed my feet to the floor, stood, and made my way to his bedroom. I closed the door, and crawled into his bed.

  Swimming, diving,

  The stroke smooth

  Waves rushing

  The push, the pull

  Floating sunlight

  The push, the pull

  The peace, the rescue

  The dream at last

  ∞ ∞ ∞

  The next morning, I spotted McGrath on the deck after I showered, dressed, and walked into the kitchen. He had put on a pot of coffee, so I poured a cup and joined him. I struggled to meet his gaze, all the while trying to will away the currents sizzling between us.

  "Thanks for letting me camp out last night."

  "You’re welcome."

  "I… I need to leave."

  "I know." He nodded, eyes closed, then asked, "Are you sure you’re alright alone?"

  "Trust me. I’ll double–check the window locks and secure the chains on all the doors. Thing is, I need some time to sort things out. If I can’t handle being home alone, I’ll call Jack. I’m sure he’d spend the night on my couch if I explained the circumstances."

  "I’m a cop. I could do it," McGrath said.

  "Bad idea."

  "I get it." He sighed, knowing I was right.

  "Thing about me is," I explained, "I need to be alone when someone hurts anyone close to me. It’s a fall–back position from my childhood. I promise you, I have enough spark flaming inside me right now to cause a massive forest fire. Any smart individual will feel the heat and back away. In a hurry."

  I could have strangled Jon in that moment. For leaving me all the time. For having another woman. For not going along with me when I’d begged him for years to install an alarm system. His answer had always been, ‘We live in the safest town in the country. Nothing ever happens here.’ My ass.

  I finished my coffee, thanked Jim once again, and went inside to gather my things. This was the wrong time to fall for McGrath.

  ∞ ∞ ∞

  I phoned Jack on my way home, but I said nothing about Rex, the condition of my home, or where I’d spent the night. My cell rang five minutes before I reached the house.

  Surprised to see McGrath’s number on the screen, I said, "Hi."

  "Just made contact with the evidence techs. Don’t worry about touching anything at the house. It’s alright to go inside and start the reconstruction."

  "Thanks. I’d just wondered about that."

  He paused, then said, "Be safe, Sam."

  "That’s
my plan." I heard him hesitate before he broke the connection, but he said nothing more.

  Chapter Thirty–Eight

  AFTER SCRUTINIZING EVERY last window lock, each door lock and even the dog door, making sure they were all secured, I spent the day righting, organizing, washing, and sanitizing. I felt violated, but at the same time more determined than ever. I’d be damned if anyone would frighten me out of my home. Upend my house, poison my dog. Go ahead. But force me out of my home? Never. The sooner I retrieved some small slice of my personal nirvana, the better.

  Cleaning gave me time to think about losing Rex, the malicious destruction of parts of my home and its contents, and lest I forget, the fact that a woman had answered Jon’s hotel room phone. Never mind the reality that I hadn’t even heard from Jon.

  I scrubbed the kitchen sink beyond clean. Weird, but McGrath kept sneaking into my head, my mind drifting repeatedly to the fantasy of an uninterrupted kiss—a serious kiss, one filled with soul–deep longing, connection, and sheer pleasure. I couldn’t not think about Jim McGrath, but then I reminded myself, you’re a married woman, maybe less happily married than a couple of days ago, but a married woman nonetheless.

  My lot in life. Married yet single. Parenting five kids alone. Holding down the fort, battening down the hatches against crises too numerous to itemize. And doing a pretty good job of it, I told myself. Okay, maybe not such a good job right now, but in general.

  I called the kids, but I couldn’t bring myself to tell them about Rex. Then again, there was no hurry. They didn’t need to know right this minute. So, I didn’t say anything. Instead, I soothed myself with the babbling excitement of their voices, which strengthened me in untold ways. I thought about the kids, all safe and sound with Grandma and Grandpa. I found solace there, and held tightly to what I still had, recognizing the need to let go of what I’d lost.

  The sun’s rays glimmered on the pond out back. It beckoned. I walked around the perimeter of our property, dragging and stacking the larger limbs that had fallen during the storm.

  Three hours later, my life partially reassembled, I called the vet. He agreed to deliver Rex home for burial at the end of his work day. I hoisted a shovel over my shoulder, walked to the far west edge of our property, and began to dig. When Doc Johnson showed up, I’d just finished carving out Rex’s final resting place.