Red Sole Clues (17 page)

The End

Alyssa Day is the pen name (and dark and tortured alter ego) of author Alesia Holliday. As Alyssa, she is a
New York Times
and
USA Today
bestselling author, and she writes the
Warriors of Poseidon
,
League of the Black Swan
, and
Cardinal Witches
paranormal romance series, in addition to her new
Tiger’s Eye Mysteries
paranormal mystery series. As Alesia, she writes comedies that make readers snort things out of their noses, and is the author of the award-winning memoir about military families during war-time deployments:
Email to the Front
.

She has won many awards for her writing, including Romance Writers of America’s prestigious RITA award for outstanding romance fiction and the
RT Book Reviews
Reviewer’s Choice Award for Best Paranormal Romance novel of 2012.

Alyssa is a diehard Buckeye who graduated
summa cum laude
from Capital University Law School and practiced as a trial lawyer in multi-million dollar litigation for several years before coming to her senses and letting the voices in her head loose on paper. She lives somewhere near an ocean with her Navy Guy husband, two kids, and any number of rescue dogs. Please visit Alyssa at her
website
, follow her on
Twitter
(she’s very chatty there!), or on
Facebook
(warning: dog photos regularly appear).

Thanks so much for reading my book! I hope you had as much fun reading it as I did writing it.

Newsletter!
Would you like to know when my next book is available? You can sign up for my new release e-mail list at
www.alyssaday.com
.

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Dead Eye
.

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You can find excerpts of all of my books at
www.alyssaday.com
.

THE TIGER’S EYE MYSTERY SERIES

Dead Eye

Private Eye

Evil Eye

Heroes of Evers, Texas

Copyright © 2016 Cara Shannon

L
ily Winn didn’t
doubt herself very often, but right about now seemed like a damned good time to start. She’d seen plenty of birds flap their wings in a blind panic against the bars of a cage, their fear palpable and real. She was sure if she could crack open her chest and peek at her heart, that’s what it would look like right now. Clattering against the bars of her ribcage trying to make a run for it. When her friend had called and told her she suspected there might be illegal dog racing happening in the area, Lily’s bright idea to go poking around abandoned farms or ranchland in the area surrounding Evers, Texas had seemed brilliant.

She gripped the empty dog collar and leash she carried in her fist as a cover story and glanced around the property, debating just how stupid it was to step out into the clearing. Probably very. When she’d parked her Jeep out on the road and hiked in, she’d figured anyone stopping her would buy the story about looking for a lost dog. She was dressed for a hike, with khaki shorts, hiking boots, and her honey-blonde hair pulled back in a braid. She knew people saw her as the typical “girl next door” and she hoped that innocent look would play to her advantage here. The collar and leash were well-worn from use around her clinic. She thought the story would make a convincing one.

Now she wondered if anyone she ran into might shoot first and ask questions later. She hadn’t lived in Texas very long, but her impression was that many of the natives around here might not spend a whole lot of time chatting up a stranger on their land. They’d shoot first and fast and without a lick of warning.

If she hadn’t heard the whimpering just then, she might have remained frozen long enough to convince herself to turn back. If there was one thing Lily knew, it was the sound of an animal in pain. And it was the one thing she could never turn her back on—an animal in pain. Any animal.

With one final glance around, she stepped out of the woods and into the clearing that surrounded the old barn and its rundown corrals. The place looked abandoned, just as she’d been told. She hoped so. Because she didn’t think she’d be able to carry off the lie about looking for her dog at this point. Not while her voice was shaking. Heck, her whole body was shaking.

Stupid, stupid, stupid
, she chanted in her head as she pictured all of the horror movies with heroines who went into the dark room after hearing a noise no matter how much Lily yelled at the screen. No matter how stupid and foolish she told them they were, those horror movie chicks stepped forward into certain danger. As she was doing right now.
Great
. She was the stupid girl in the horror movie doing what everyone with half a brain knew you shouldn’t.

Each breath sounded in her ears, jagged and raw, as she crossed the open space between corrals, moving toward the barn. Toward the source of the dog’s cries. Closer and closer. Praying the barn was empty. Praying no one would pop out any minute. Or worse, simply shoot from where they stood. No, surely they would warn her first. Right?

She stopped in her tracks, listening to the sounds around her, blocking out the rasp of her own labored breathing. It wasn’t the hike in that had done this to her. Even though it had been a half mile or more, she was fit. She’d taken it at a good clip. But this was fear, plain and simple. Maybe the bad guys wouldn’t hear her gulps of air? Maybe it was only in her head.

The dog’s cries came from around the side of the barn, drawing Lily’s focus back to her goal. She edged toward the whimpering, creeping closer to the corner of the barn. If there was someone around that corner, she hadn’t a clue how she’d handle that. She had no weapon. Nothing but her empty dog collar and leash and her cell phone shoved in her back pocket. The smart girl—the one who was still alive at the end of the horror movie—probably would have called for help. She’d have backed away and gone out to the car to wait for someone else to arrive.

But who would Lily call? She didn’t have many friends in town. She’d relocated to Evers to take over her grandfather’s veterinary practice when he retired. He was housebound now after suffering a stroke. With her efforts to bring the practice up to date, she hadn’t so much as poked her head out of the office.

She’d only met Mary Greene, who had warned her about the dog racing, because Mary brought rescue dogs into the clinic for discounted shots and spay and neuter. They chatted in the clinic but hadn’t gotten together yet outside of it. She suspected Mary devoted most of her time to her full-time job and her rescue efforts. She likely didn’t socialize all that much either.

It’s not like Lily could call the police and tell them she needed help for a whimpering dog. They’d laugh at her. So, heart still pounding against the bars of its cage, she eased around the corner of the barn.

Nothing.

Not a person in sight, but also no sign of a dog. She could hear it more clearly now, and it must have smelled her presence because it began to yip loudly. A high-pitched, plaintive yip. She stepped out from the relative protection of the barn, such as it was, and scanned the area.

There
. Lily didn’t give thought to her safety as she rushed to the edge of a large ditch that looked like it had been dug by man, and not through any occurrence of nature.

“Oh no, no, no, no, no, no.” She slipped and slid down the bank and wanted to close her eyes. Wanted to erase the sight before her. At least four other dogs lay in the ditch, but they were so clearly beyond her help, she didn’t stop to check on them. She gritted her teeth as she ignored the flies that didn’t seem the least bit bothered by her invasion, and made her way to the dog whose eyes were trained on her. There was pain in those eyes, but also hope. Lily quickly took in the injured back leg. It had been shot, the wound festering and necrotic. The leg was hanging, unusable. She knew without further inspection she’d need to remove it.

“This is going to hurt a little, baby girl, but I’ll get you something to help with that soon.”

Lily’s hands worked quickly as she used her leash to make a makeshift muzzle for the dog. She didn’t seem aggressive so far, but when Lily went to move her there’d be a lot of pain. A dog in pain can always bite. That was a lesson Lily had learned early and learned well. If she ever forgot it, she had the faint scars of a bite on her left wrist to remind her. The cream-colored dog had the markings of Saluki and Greyhound in her genes, with long, darker hair on her ears and tail, and a short coat covering her body. She had a thicker body than those breeds, though, so she might also have some Lab or something else in her. It was common practice in the world of underground dog racing to breed Greyhounds with other dog breeds to take advantage of the speed of the Greyhound’s build, while making the mix sturdier to withstand the rigors of racing in empty fields. The dogs were called longdogs or lurchers, depending on the mix.

Lily used the thin button-up shirt she always wore over a tee at the office to tightly bind the leg. “Aren’t you sweet, honey girl? Maybe that’s what we’ll call you,” she crooned as the dog held remarkably still while Lily worked on her. “Honey,” she said.

She stood and looked at the ground rising up in front of her. She would need to climb out of the ditch first, then try to drag the dog up the side. “I’m so sorry,” she murmured, then stuck one foot into a divot in the mud wall in front of her and hoisted herself up and over the edge. The next part would suck for the dog. Royally suck. Lily laid on her stomach, shimmying forward as far as she could without falling into the hole again, and reached down toward Honey. She grasped her front legs, all the while keeping her focus on the soft trusting eyes of the incredible creature. She had to focus on that. If she focused on anything else, she’d see the dead eyes of the other animals in the pit. They had likely been tossed in here and shot. Honey was the only one who had held on long enough for Lily to have a shot at saving her.

She stumbled under the weight of the dog when she first lifted her, but once hoisted in her arms, it wasn’t so bad. Lily was strong and used to moving animals whose full weight hung limp under sedation. Sure, she typically had help, and didn’t have to walk half a mile, but she wasn’t about to leave Honey here and risk whoever had shot those dogs coming back to finish her off. Walking as quickly as she could, Lily cut back through the woods and out to the road. She needed to get Honey back to her clinic. She’d lose the leg, for sure. If Lily got lucky, though, maybe it wasn’t too late to save Honey’s life.

C
arter Jenkins pulled
open the door to Winn Animal Clinic and smiled when he saw Bea Bishop at her usual post behind the reception desk. Like her sister, May, Bea brought a smile to the faces of most people who met her, and he knew she used her naturally mothering way whenever someone was upset or worried about a beloved pet. She’d used it on him a number of times when he’d brought Memphis in. The German Shorthaired Pointer who had been Carter’s hunting partner for the better part of ten years was declining bit by bit. Of course, someone would have to let the dog know that. Memphis was convinced he was still two years old, and that attitude led to a lot of twists, bumps, bruises… Well, overall, just trouble. Plain and simple.

“Hey there, Carter. I didn’t think you had an appointment today,” Bea said, glancing at her desk. The office had used paper calendars for scheduling when Dr. Winn was in charge. Now that the new Dr. Winn—the blonde-haired, brown-eyed girl who made Carter think of that song anytime she smiled his way—was in charge, they were moving everything to computers. Carter had heard she would be expanding the space soon, too, building a kennel to offer boarding and grooming. He wasn’t sure how that would go over. Most of the town was made up of good old boys who’d just as soon leave out a big bowl of food and water and put the dog in the yard when they went on a trip, but he hoped it worked out for her. If for no other reason than he’d get to keep looking at those eyes and seeing if he could get her to aim that smile his way.

“No appointment, Bea,” he said with a smile as he crossed to her desk. He glanced at the hallway behind her, hoping to spot Dr. Winn. “I’m just picking up Memphis’s meds. I called last week about his heartworm pills, but haven’t been able to get here until now.”

“I bet you’re busy. Is Sheriff Davies getting ready for his wedding? He must be fixin’ to take off pretty soon, I guess.” As she spoke, she opened a cabinet and pulled out a small bag with his receipt already stapled to it. That was another thing Lily Winn had put into place. She kept a credit card on file so her staff could get things ready in advance. It wasn’t exactly how the town of Evers was used to doing things, and Carter would bet she’d had some pushback on it, but it worked for his schedule when he was busy.

Carter couldn’t help the smile that crossed his face at the mention of his boss. He’d watched tough-as-nails Sheriff John Davies take call after call about flower choices, cake flavors, and a disaster with bridesmaids’ dresses that had been ordered in the wrong color over the last six months. Carter had to admit, he’d had more than a few laughs over it. “He’s officially on vacation starting today. Katelyn convinced him to take almost a week off leading up to the wedding so they could get things ready, and then another ten days after the wedding for their honeymoon.”

“Ah, yes,” Bea laughed. “The glamping trip. I heard about that. What I haven’t quite figured out—” she leaned in, although Carter wasn’t exactly sure who she was afraid might hear them, “—is what
glamping
is.”