Pit and Miss Murder Page 4

  I frowned. "Maybe this is Jock's doing. He could have hired someone to sabotage the shelter."

  "Maybe. Or it could have been a half-dozen people in this town who don't want a dog rescue in Moonrise. We have a lot of support, but we also have a few detractors. I'll just be glad when we can move the operation out to the new shelter."

  "Me too. Mostly because we will be able to save more pit bulls. But also, because it will make you really, really happy, and that makes me happy."

  "You make me really, really happy."

  "Then, I'm content."

  A blue mini-SUV parked next to my truck. Theresa got out of the driver side, and Keith, who had recently began shaving his patchy beard, exited from the passenger door. "Oh, Lily," Theresa gushed. "I'm so sorry about Jock."

  "Why? You aren't forcing him to be a complete jackhole. That's a choice he makes all on his own."

  "I know, but I did marry him. That choice brought him into my life, and by extension, all of our lives."

  "Now, Ther-bear," Keith said. He put a comforting arm around her. "You can't keep blaming yourself."

  "I have a feeling he'd be a pimple on the butt of a pig even if you hadn't married him."

  Parker added, "Lily and Keith are right. Jock Simmons would find a way to make trouble with or without you in his life."

  Theresa smiled but shook her head. "Will you tell Buzz I'm sorry?"

  “You’re not responsible for the way Jock behaves,” I said. “So, don’t be sorry.” I forced a smile I didn’t feel then glanced up at Parker. "I'm going to relieve Jerry of puppy duty."

  "But--" Theresa started, but Parker gave her a quick headshake.

  I eyed him suspiciously.

  "You go on in. Puppy therapy will ease that crease between your eyes in no time." He gave me a peck on the cheek. "Now, I'm going to fix some code violations, so I don't have to pay an even bigger fine, so I don't start developing creases of my own."

  "Har, har," I told him. "Too late."

  I followed Theresa and Keith inside but branched off from them when I made a left toward the isolation room. I lightly knocked before entering, my eyes widening when I saw that it wasn't Jerry in the room with the sick baby, but Addison Newton. He'd been away to Southeast Missouri State University in Cape Girardeau since the previous fall.

  "Addy! You're here."

  The nineteen-year-old, his blond hair a month or two overdue for a haircut, smiled up at me from where he was sitting on a cushion with the pupper. "I just got in last night," he said quietly for the dog's sake. The mangy yearling's ears perked up at my entrance, and his tail swished twice, but that was the only reaction he gave me, content to keep his head on Addy's lap.

  I'd known Addy would be home for the summer, and that he'd planned to volunteer, but his early arrival after the day I had was a welcome surprise.

  "His skin is on fire," Addy said of the dog. "This place renews my faith in people, but it also makes me want to hurt someone."

  It was a common emotion amongst the volunteers. We took in some extreme cases of neglect and abuse, and it could make you feel like human beings were the worst. But it was also humans who were doing the rescuing so the latter couldn't be exclusively true. Bad people existed. It didn't mean all people were bad. The young man comforting and caring for this neglected pit bull was proof that there was so much kindness in the world.

  I sighed as some of the tension left my body. "Thank you, Addy."

  He gave me a crooked smile. "For what?"

  "For being decent."

  He chuckled. "You're welcome, I guess."

  “So, have you seen CeCe? I heard she’ll be home for the summer this week.”

  He smiled. “Not yet. We’ve been video chatting every day, and I saw her over Christmas break, but I’m ready to see her in real life.”

  “I bet.” My inner girl squeeed. I was so happy him and CeCe were still making it work.

  Addy stroked his hand down the pup's back. "You want to take over?" he asked reluctantly.

  I shook my head. "It looks like you've got this under control."

  "I've missed this place. I've missed the dogs." His eyes crinkled at the corners. "And I've missed you and Parker. It's good to be home."

  Addy reminded me so much of my younger brother, a really great kid with some issues. Unlike my brother, Addy had managed to turn his life around. Selfishly, I was glad he’d missed me, but I worried about the sadness in his voice. “Are you okay?”

  He stroked his hand down the pups back and shook his head. “I think I'm just a little homesick."

  Theresa came up behind me. "You have a phone call, Lily. Ryan Petry."

  "Thanks." I glanced back at Addy as Theresa headed back to the office. "We'll talk later."

  "Hey, is Jimmy volunteering here now?"

  We had a Larry, Jerry, Keith, Jordan, Robyn, Lisa, and a Steve, but no Jimmy. "Who?"

  "You know, Jimmy Hanley. He was a buddy of mine in high school."

  "James Hanley?" The kid who'd nearly knocked me over the day before. "No. Why?"

  "I drove past here last night, and I saw his sports car parked out front. Or maybe, it just looked like it."

  "I don't think it could have been his. I'll check the roster, but I think our new volunteer Jordan Deeter came in last night."

  "Ryan says it's urgent," Theresa said from the end of the hallway.

  "Crap." Literally. I'd dropped Smooshie's sample off with Ryan yesterday. What if he'd found something awful. "I've got to go," I said quickly. "Talk soon!'

  I closed the door between us and hurried to the office. I picked up the phone. "Hey, Ryan. What's up?"

  "Sorry, I tried your cell phone, but it kept going to voicemail."

  "It's in my backpack out in the truck. Is something wrong with Smooshie? Did you find anything bad in her stool sample?"

  "Some paint chips. I am trying to determine if it might have lead in it. Do you know where Smooshie would have gotten into some old dried paint?"

  I had a suspicion. "The shelter siding. Someone scraped the paint off the side of the building. It was one of our zoning code violations."

  "Ask Parker if he knows what kind of paint was used?"

  "What do we do if it is lead paint?"

  "You'll need to bring Smooshie in for a complete blood cell count. That will give us a clear indication of whether she's been poisoned or not."

  The word poisoned rattled me. "Is this lethal?"

  "It can be, but the fact that she's eating and drinking normally is a good sign. Intestinal irritation related to latex or oil paint chips is the most likely culprit, but I just want to make certain."

  I waved at Theresa, covering the phone's mic with my palm. "Could you ask Parker if the peeled paint has lead in it?"

  "How will he know?" she asked.

  "Good question." I took my hand off the mic. "How will we know if it's lead paint?"

  "If it's been painted since nineteen seventy-eight, the chances are good it's not lead paint. If Parker isn't sure, bring Smooshie in for the blood test, just to be on the safe side."

  "Ask him if it's been painted in his lifetime," I told Theresa.

  I heard Ryan chuckling. "Hush."

  "You're full of charm, Lils."

  I giggled. "And you're full of..."

  "Now, now," he teased. "Keep it civil."

  Theresa came back. "Parker said it isn't lead paint. It's latex."

  "Smooshie should be fine then," Ryan said.

  "Thanks, Ryan. I appreciate you."

  "Aww. I appreciate you, too." He hung up the phone. My skin buzzed with angry energy. Someone had deliberately scraped paint to make trouble for Parker, and in the process, they almost poisoned my dog.

  I glanced at Theresa.

  "Everything all right?" she asked. "You look mad enough to spit."

  "Do you really think Jock would come after the shelter to get back at you? At me?"

  Theresa's voice was soft, her expression haunted. "He likes to pun
ish people." Her fingers absently went to her jaw, a sense-memory of more abusive times. "I don't know if he's the one behind it, but I wouldn't put it past him."

  "All right." I gave her elbow a squeeze.

  I went outside and found Parker. He painted with the same efficiency he did everything else and was nearly done with the entire side. "What do you think?" he asked when I walked up behind him.

  "Looking good," I said.

  "You're staring at my butt, aren't you?"

  "Maybe." I laughed when he pivoted and kissed me. "You're blocking my view," I told him.

  "You saw Addy?"

  "I did." I sagged against Parker as he put his arms around me. "It's nice to have him back."

  "Are you okay?" He smoothed my unruly hair away from my face.

  "Smooshie ate the paint chips that landed on the ground. Whoever did this hurt my girl."

  "So, not okay."

  "No," I said. "Not okay. I'm just thankful it wasn't toxic. She'll be okay, but now I'm worried. She loves to chew all sorts of things. What if the next thing she tries to eat is poisonous?"

  "Smooshie will be all right."

  "Promise?"

  "I do." He squeezed me tight. "Why don't you stay for dinner tonight? You can go home after."

  I nodded. "That sounds nice." The carb-load would help with the calorie burn it took to shift as well. "I'm going to go find Smooshie. I think I need to hug her for a little bit."

  "Pull the chicken out of the freezer to thaw. I found a lemon garlic recipe I want to cook for you."

  I raised my brows. "You definitely know the way to my heart."

  He winked. "I'm no fool."

  Chapter 6

  The lemon garlic chicken had been delicious. I'd eaten every speck of meat off the bones and sucked the marrow from the large ones to avoid discussing why Buzz was acting off kilter. The idea of bringing up the topic of children, when I wasn't sure where Parker stood on the subject, frightened me. We were happy in our little bubble, but if I poked too hard, I knew it could burst. I mean, what if we had opposing views of what a future together meant?

  Instead, I'd eaten my right leg full of chicken and mash potatoes. Which meant, I was extremely full and ready to run it all off. The minute I parked in my driveway and got out of the truck with Smooshie, I stripped down to nothing, and casually tossed my clothes inside my trailer.

  Smooshie twirled excitedly as she waited for me to get furry. I couldn't wait to stretch my legs. Not being able to have this kind of freedom all the time was the only thing I missed about Paradise Falls. Well, I missed my best friend Hazel, but she was only a phone call away if I really needed her.

  I allowed my cougar to surge forward, feeling her power as my bones and muscles shifted and tawny fur sprouted along my skin. The sensation was better than any high, which is a reason I never understood why some shifters still turned to drugs. Smooshie and I ran and tussled, occasionally surprise tackling each other, and offering playful nips at the ears and face. Smooshie loved to play, and she never took the roughhousing too far. I climbed up the side of a large oak, my claws digging in, and daring Smooshie to follow. And did she ever. She reached my tail before sliding back down. I laughed, and it came out like a high-pitched scream.

  The crunch of gravel on tires and the soft purr of a vehicle motor snatched me from my bliss. I could see headlights coming down my road and turning into my drive.

  I jumped down and led Smooshie through the woods toward the trailer. The vehicle had been too quiet for Parker's dually pick up, but it was in the range of Nadine's car. Why would she be here? We hadn't made any plans. And besides, I was pretty sure she'd told me she was working every night this week. Nadine was a deputy for Moonrise, and she'd fallen on the bad side of Sheriff Avery. Honestly, though, I wasn't sure the man had a good side.

  I shifted at the tree line where I kept a water-tight bag with a change of clothes in it for just such an occasion. I'd been caught one or two times with my pants down, literally, and started stashing clothes near the woods as a precaution.

  After I put on the plain t-shirt and pulled up the sweatpants, neither of which would win me any fashion awards, Smooshie and I had a foot race to the trailer, ending with her inching me out for the win. I laughed until the overwhelming scent of blood stopped me in my tracks. I looked at the car. It was a red sports car. Definitely, Nadine's. The light in the trailer was on, and the door cracked open. Was she hurt?

  "Nadine?" I said as I bounded up the steps. Inside, I saw it wasn't Nadine at all. "Buzz?" He sat on the couch with a familiarity of someone who once owned this trailer, which, until he'd given it to me, he had. His hands were caked in dark, drying blood. That's what I'd smelled. It must have transferred to the door handle when he went in. "Buzz, are you hurt?"

  He looked up at me with a bleak expression I'd never seen on him before. His gaze dropped at the palms of his hands before coming back to me. He shook his head. "I have to leave town. I don't want to go, Lily. I don't. I know I talk about leaving if things get heavy, but I have more to lose now than I ever have in my life." I knew he was not just talking about the diner and me. He loved Nadine, even if they weren't mates by shifter standards.

  Suddenly, I couldn't stop the sludge of horror creeping into my veins as I asked, "Is it Nadine?"

  He shook his head again, and I'll admit I had a brief flash of relief. I tried not to use my witch magic I inherited from an ancient ancestor that compelled people to be truthful with me. Mostly, I thought it wasn't fair to folks who wanted to keep their secrets secret. Even so, the magic did make people open up if they wanted me to know the truth even when I wasn't trying. In this situation, though, I needed to know what happened to Buzz, so I sat beside him on my small couch and put my hand on his arm, careful to not touch the blood and pressed him for an answer, "Then who, Buzz? Tell me what happened."

  He blinked at me for a moment then said, "Jock Simmons is dead."

  I centered myself with some deep breaths as I walked to the fridge and pulled out a cold cola. "Here," I said, as I popped the tab and set it on the small side table nearest Buzz. "Take a sip and tell me everything."

  He squeezed his eyes shut as one-hundred kinds of pain played on his face. He pressed his palm against a watery eye. "Damn it. I had it. I really had it this time."

  I sat down next to him. Smooshie, after lapping up half her bowl of water, jumped up onto the couch and placed herself behind me. She pressed her wet nose and mouth against my arm. I turned my attention to Buzz. "Had what?"

  "A home. Someone to love. A life."

  "Oh, Buzz." I understood his feelings. They mirrored my own when it came to Moonrise. "Talk to me. We can figure this out. Together."

  Buzz shook his head. "I threatened him. There were witnesses."

  "This afternoon when you punched him?”

  “No. Later. I was still agitated after I closed the diner at four, so I went to his office. I didn't mean it. I just wanted to scare him enough to get him off your back." He tapped his forehead with his fist three times. "I can't believe I broke my first rule. It was so stupid. Such a stupid move."

  He might believe he’d gone after Jock for me, but I think the full moon and his not shifting were huge factors in his risk-taking. Hitting him with the hard truth now, though, wouldn’t do a thing to make the situation better. It was tantamount to an “I told you so,” and I liked to think I wasn’t that kind of person.

  "Where is Jock now?" I asked.

  "At the diner. In the parking lot."

  "Is he still there?"

  Buzz looked up at me, his stare sharp and full of intensity. "I got a call from the police saying that someone reported a break-in at the diner, so I went over there. I found Jock laying on the sidewalk in front of the door. He was alive." He held out his hands as if to show me the blood. "Barely. But...I tried. I tried to save him. I was too late. Then there were sirens. And lights. I panicked. I ran."

  “What about the break-in?”

  �
�I don’t know. I got out of there as soon as I heard the police coming.”

  "And you left your truck in the parking lot."

  He nodded.

  "And you made it to your place and got Nadine's keys and drove here."

  He nodded again.

  My thoughts tracked in multiple directions. Some practical. Some impractical. But the impractical ones weren't helpful, so I pushed them aside. "Was Jock conscious when you found him?"

  "Yes."

  "Did he say anything?"

  "Like who stabbed him in the stomach?"

  "That would be a start."

  "No such luck. He was mumbling "ah-knee" or some such nonsense. He was frothing at the mouth, and the word sounded mushed. Then it sounded like he said, "hand," so I thought it might be a clue. Like he grabbed something from the person who'd done it, but I checked, and other than his wedding band, I couldn't find anything on or in his hands." Buzz's eyes grew distant. "His heart was beating so fast. His breathing slow and gurgly. Then he died."

  "Did the police see you?"

  "I don't think so. But my truck is sitting in the parking lot with the keys in it. I don't think it's going to be a stretch for the sheriff to pin this on me."

  "You think he'll railroad you?"

  "You don't? With his daughter in the middle of a messy divorce with the dead guy? Sheriff Avery is going to be pointing the finger at any target that points away from Theresa."

  "Theresa wouldn't kill Jock."

  "Not my point."

  I sighed. "I know. But, hey, you got me and Nadine on your side. You know neither one of us will let you go down without a fight."

  He scrubbed his face again with his palms. "What am I going to tell Nadine?"

  "Did you try calling her?"

  "My phone's in the truck with my keys. I barely got the truck in park before I saw Jock on the ground. I hopped out and tried to help him. Why didn't I just put the truck in reverse and leave."

  I squeezed his forearm. "Because you're a good man." I got up. Smooshie spread out on the cushion. I raised my brow at her. She wagged her tail as if to say, move your feet, lose your seat. I shook my head and grabbed my phone from the pile of clothes I’d left on the floor.