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.“Hoping for someone else, Jim?” I only brushed him slightly as I walked past.Wallis couldn’t have done it better.“I did tell you I’d come by.”“You did.” He wasn’t going to thank me, so I let it go.Instead, I walked over to where Spot sat on his rug.He’d looked up with more longing than my sometime-lover, and so he got the caress as I knelt by his side.“Want to go out?” I cradled his heavy jaw in my hands.Silently, as I stared into those dark eyes, other questions formed: “What’s going on here? What happened?”“I don’t think you should leave, Pru.” Creighton was standing behind me.I stood and turned toward him.“Don’t worry, Jim.I’m not leaving.” He hadn’t backed away, and we were close.I’m tall, almost as tall as he is, but I made myself focus on his eyes.“Not while you want me here.”He looked down then, and took a step back.Pity.“I’m on a case, Pru.” He rubbed his hand over his face, and I realized then how tired he was.“That girl was dumped.”“I know.” I did.“I’m sorry.” I slumped against one of Laurel Kroft’s uncomfortable-looking chairs, no longer on the attack.But something was bothering me.Something Wallis had said.“Jim, how sure are you really that the cause of death was an animal mauling?”He looked up, eyes tired.“I thought you were the one saying that the whole thing might have been an animal attack? That a wild cat must have moved her?”I shook my head.“Something about the wounds.” It was hard to think.Creighton’s presence didn’t make it easier.“Cougars don’t—” I stopped, unsure of what exactly was bothering me.“Just seems wrong somehow.” It was the best I could manage, but I could feel Creighton’s eyes on me.He’d heard me stop myself.“Hey,” I said, after a moment’s pause, “I really should take this dog out.Just for a minute.” I was trying to change the subject.It was also true.Creighton waited a split second before he nodded, and Spot thumped his tail on his mat.I was back in a moment with his lead.At my nod, he stood, and I snapped it on.Creighton was watching us, but his mind was elsewhere, I could tell.“Jim, I’ll be back as soon as Spot has relieved himself.” He nodded.“We’ll talk, okay?”I needed to work fast, but it was hard to stop thinking about the man inside the house as I walked Spot down to the street.On one level, I believed him: I had a too vivid memory of what had happened to Mariela Gomez to wish her forgotten.At the same time, I didn’t understand why Creighton was so distressed about Laurel Kroft.Well, I had some ideas, but not ones that I liked.As far as I was concerned, the pretty shrink could take care of herself.“She thought so.” The voice came so strong and so clear, I stopped short.“Spot?” I looked down.He was sniffing a tree trunk, which he proceeded to water.“Are you talking about Lauren?”I pictured my rival, focusing on her honey-blonde hair, on that golden shearling coat.I tried to keep my own mixed emotions out of my mind, but some of them must have leached through.What I got back was confused and a little frightened.“I’m sorry, Spot.” I knelt by his side, putting my hand on the velvety spot right behind his ears.“Let’s try again.” I closed my eyes.Creighton, if he were watching us, wouldn’t likely see that.He’d only see me, the trainer, kneeling beside the dog.Something normal, in other words.“My job.” He pushed his head against my hand.“Let me work.”“I’m sorry.” This was a dog who wanted to be exercised.Who needed to keep occupied.Laurel had clearly been leaving him alone too long.At least, she had today.“When did she leave?” I visualized that blonde hair, again.This time, from the back, walking out.Walking through the front door.“My job.I wanted to do my job.” Yes, of course, he had wanted to go with her.Unless…“Are you saying she needed you?” A soft whimper.I wasn’t being clear.“Laurel needed you to do your job…with her?”A little more pressure on my hand, the canine equivalent of a head butt.I cursed Laurel Kroft silently.She’d not only left this dog alone, but she’d gone off to do something that he felt he should be doing with her.Had she gone to the Haigens? Spot was smart enough to pick up Richard Haigen’s increasing disability.It was possible.It also fit with what I had suspected—that Laurel knew something more than she’d told me or Jim.“She doesn’t…She wants out.” The words I was hearing were making no sense.Whatever Spot was trying to communicate was beyond his ability to translate.I leaned forward, putting my forehead against Spot’s warm fur.The improved contact paid off.I saw the gold of Laurel’s hair, or maybe her coat—that sheepskin must have made quite an impression on the shepherd mix.I sensed urgency.Well, she’d blown off Creighton.Me as well, so something had been pressing.I closed my eyes, waiting for the rest.A visual.Some sense of who else was involved, but all I got was that need to push, to break out.Something had to happen.Something was waiting.And that’s when I felt it, like a wave breaking over a seawall, as golden and lush as Laurel’s blonde locks.Only it wasn’t warm.It wasn’t comforting.There was something wild in the rush and the charge.And something very like fear.“Pru?” Creighton was standing in the door.I’d been squatting here for several minutes, my thighs as well as the tone of his voice let me know.“Hold your horses,” I barked back.I’d been locked into something with Spot, and I hadn’t yet plumbed the depths.“We’re coming.”I looked down at the dog.He looked up, eyes wide and trusting.He’d been scared, scared and strangely exhilarated.He’d also been worried about Laurel; that was a big part of his fear.But the anger? The jealousy? There was too much I didn’t understand, but maybe my attempt had done some good.His big tail swiped a few happy wags as I signaled him to stand and follow me.A burden shared is a burden halved, they say.The fact that I had no idea what the service dog had laid on me didn’t make me feel any better, though.With a shrug and a smile, one for me, one for Spot, I led him back inside.Chapter Twenty-eight“I erased it,” I told Creighton for what had to be the third time.“I’m sorry, Jim.I just wasn’t thinking.” I hadn’t been, although in retrospect it had been a smart move.“I did call Laurel a few times, and I gather she called me back while I was with Doc Sharpe in County.She left me a message, but there wasn’t anything of substance in it, and I erased it.I don’t know what else I can tell you.”Jim Creighton has the bluest eyes.Light.Clear.More true than a robin’s egg.More blue, even, than the newish paint job on my GTO.Yet, despite their cool color, they can be surprisingly warm—the blue spark revealing the heat inside the cop exterior.I’m a dark girl, in more ways than one, but I’d grown fond of those eyes.Susceptible, even, when they looked at me a certain way, the skin crinkling around them in a wicked smile.They weren’t smiling now, and I was reminded just how cold blue can be.Cold and maybe a little sad.Jim Creighton was disappointed in me, and I felt a twinge of something that might be called regret.“What?” I heard the snark in my voice.I don’t like feeling vulnerable.“You think if you stare at me long enough, I’ll change my story?” He opened his mouth to speak.I felt a wave of dread.This was it.Something final.Something bad.“So your new girl stood you up, is that it? And you’ve got to blame someone, so you’re looking at me.”It wasn’t pretty, and it wasn’t smart [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]