Woof at the Door (29 page)

I was sure I wasn’t the only person who would have a similar fantasy. The cops would
be overrun with “tips.”

Maybe that was the point. Keep the cops chasing false leads ’til the waters were so
muddy there would be no hope of clearing things up.

If that was the plan, it was too late.

• • •

The press of a cold, wet nose against my cheek nudged me awake. I opened my eyes and
tried to focus on my assailant. Jax let out a salutatory snort, spraying me with fine
droplets of slobber.

“Eew.”
Move.
I pushed at his chest. He stepped back, and I blinked at the DVD clock. Past noon.
I had slept for over four hours.

Wiping moisture off my face, I sat up and swung my legs off the couch. It hadn’t been
my intention to pass out. I had just closed my eyes to rest for a minute.

I smiled at the Doberman. “Where’s Emma?”

Emma gone.
He glanced at the foyer and back.

“Did anyone call?”

That one was beyond him.

“Never mind. I’ll check.”
Sonja should have called by now.

I walked into the kitchen and began fishing through my purse for my phone. A few seconds
later, I spotted it on the counter. Evidently, Emma had plugged it in for me.

I scooped it up and checked my voice mail. There was one message.

Sonja’s warm voice filled my ear, and I knew she had good news. “Hey, just checking
in. Moss’s kidneys look good. He’s sleeping right now. I’ll call when we know more.
Don’t worry, girl. He’s doing much better.”

I breathed a sigh of relief. If his other tests came out as clean, he would be fine.
Tears stung my eyes, and I had to laugh. Jax was looking at me with apprehension.

Okay?
He let out a short whine.

I patted his head and sniffed.
I’m fine
. “I don’t think I’ve cried this much in years. Every other day, I’m boo-hooing like
an idiot.”

I unplugged my phone and went to drop it into my purse. It vibrated loudly in my hand.
Emma must have put it in silent mode so I could sleep. I smiled and flipped it open.
“Hello?”

“Miss Wilde? This is Bo Bishop.”

I grimaced. “Mr. Bishop. I’m so sorry I haven’t had a chance to settle on a time for
today. I had an emergency to deal with.”

“Everythin’ all right?”

“Yes. Again, I’m sorry.”

“No problem. You want to come on out now?” he drawled. “I’m finished with most of
my chores.”

“I can be there by one or one thirty.”

“That’d be fine. You know where to find me.”

I stuffed my phone back in my purse and stared blankly at the clock on the microwave.
A ball of apprehension had settled in my gut as I’d spoken to Bo Bishop. Was it because
I was soon going to have to give up Jax?

No. That wouldn’t hit until I handed him over to Bo. Today was just a social event.

I didn’t want to see Gardenia again.

Not that I was afraid of her. It was more that I was afraid if she pushed me, I’d
be tempted to push back. She would soon be stripped of some of her social clout. Gardenia
would lose her sway over Emma’s career.

And therefore, over me.

I smiled, though it was probably more of a maniacal grin. I wouldn’t have to go to
the main house if I didn’t want to. I wouldn’t ever have to see the woman again.

“Free at last.”

CHAPTER 22

I sang out loud with Janis Joplin about freedom and feeling good with a boy named
Bobby as I drove toward Mandarin. So cheery was my mood that even the thunderheads
looming ahead didn’t dampen my spirits.

Kai had called. He had lifted a good print off the antifreeze bottle and was running
it for a match.

“Cavanaugh is goin’ down, Jax.”

I turned the radio to a respectable level and pulled Bluebell off the main road, rattling
to a stop at the guard booth.

Empty. I stared at the gate. Closed.

“What the hell?” I retrieved my phone from my purse. One missed call. Stupid thing
was still on vibrate. I wouldn’t have been able to hear it ring anyway.

I tried to call Bo.

The reception was sketchy, but at least I could hear when he answered.

“I’m locked out.”

“Sorry about that. You’ll have to punch in the code.”

After he said it, I noticed the keypad. I cranked down my window, and hanging most
of my upper body out of the Suburban, I managed to enter the numbers he gave me.

There was a buzz, and I was allowed entrance.

Following the road as it meandered under the canopy of huge live oaks, I slowed as
I rounded the final turn to the grand estate. In the storm-tinted light, the mansion
took on a gothic, foreboding air.

I glanced back at Jax. He sat at attention in the backseat. I could sense his interest
and curiosity, but I didn’t feel any familiarity. Jax apparently had never been here
with Mark to visit his family.

I swept my gaze back over the majestic estate. Spanish moss swayed in the quickening
wind. There was no sign of movement around the grounds or in any of the windows.

Jax shifted anxiously in his seat.

“Creepy, huh?” I eased my foot off the brake and continued past the house, out of
the grove of enormous oaks, and finally bounced along toward Bo’s lakeside home.

Unlike the antebellum mansion, the shotgun cabin perched at the water’s edge seemed
to brighten in the odd light.

Coasting slowly to a stop near the large magnolia tree that sat in front of the cabin,
I turned in my seat to face Jax. “Well, whatcha think? This is going to be your new
home.”

Jax answered with an apprehensive whine. He wasn’t sure he wanted a new home.

I smiled at him. “Don’t worry. If he doesn’t measure up, you’re staying with me.”
I reached around and patted Jax on the head. “I’ll be right back.”

I left the window cracked and hopped out of Bluebell. Once again, I heard the hounds
yapping from the kennel. Hopefully, Jax would get used to his noisy neighbors. I assessed
the cabin as I shuffled through the blanket of magnolia leaves. Though the place lacked
charm, and the area around it was a little cluttered, the air was clean, and there
was plenty of room for Jax to stretch his legs.

It would be an ideal place for a dog with Jax’s energy.

Lots of space to throw a tennis ball
.

I walked up the steps to the cabin door and knocked.

No answer.

As I waited, the breeze shifted—became cooler. Thunder grumbled in the distance. Rain
was not far off. I searched for a doorbell and, finding none, knocked again.

Strange. I’d just talked to him.

“Bo?”

Moving to one of the dusty windows that flanked the door, I peered inside. I could
see into the small kitchen and past it into the living area. Empty, aside from the
stuffed deer heads on the wall and the arsenal of firearms in the display case. I
remembered Kai’s comment about the redneck décor and smiled.

“Hello?” I rapped on the glass. Nothing.

I turned and looked past the magnolia toward the barn. Maybe Bo had gone up to the
kennel. Trudging around the tree, through the leathery leaves, and up the hill, I
called out again.

The hounds had quieted some. But the hush held a restlessness. The approaching storm
was making them uneasy. Before I moved into the barn and, with it, the minds of a
dozen nervous hounds, I pulled up my mental shield.

Brain buffer in place, I walked through the large open doorway. The blueticks welcomed
me with happy barks and lolling tongues.

“Hi, guys.” I looked around the cavernous interior. There were no separate rooms that
I could see. So where was Bo? I was getting tired of looking all over hell and half
of Georgia for someone who was supposed to be meeting me.

My irritation was building as fast as the thunderheads. Reminded of the storm, I tried
to be more charitable toward my absent host. Who knew what kind of battening down
needed to be done?

With one last glance around, I started to turn and leave when something caught my
eye. A box with a bright red-and-blue label. A case of antifreeze.

I was struck with a feeling of dread so acute I was surprised I hadn’t cried out.

Taking a small sip of air, then another, I tried to think. Lots of people use this
brand of antifreeze
,
I told myself rationally.

Instinct roared to life, drowning out weak, wavering reason.

Before my mind had given the order, my feet were moving. Propelling me out of the
barn and down the hill. Something stopped me only a few feet away from the barn. I
scanned the cabin and tree line, listening.

Rumbling thunder. Wind rattling through leaves and branches. Jax started barking.
A slow tingle snaked up my spine. They were not happy or excited barks. They were
fast, harsh, and panicked—a warning.

A cold shiver shot through to my core. I looked toward Bluebell. The view was partially
obstructed by the large tree, but I could see Jax in the back. He wasn’t looking at
the woods or at the pasture. He was looking at me.

No. He was looking behind me.

I felt myself go still as fear seeped into me. I had walked into a viper’s nest.

“Hey, there, Miss Wilde.”

I tried not to jump at the sound of the drawling voice. Mind racing, I turned, struggling
to conceal my horror with mild surprise.

“You startled me.”

“Did I?” Eyes blazing with some dark inner fire, Bo twisted his lips into a crooked
smile.

I tried to smile back, pretending not to notice the ax handle he was holding in one
hand. “I knocked. I thought you would be in the cabin.”

He returned my comment with a long, narrowed stare. “I reckoned you’d figure it out
once you got out here.”

“Figure what out?”

“At first, I didn’t believe Gardenia about you being able to talk to animals.”

“What?” I barely breathed the word.

“But I figure why take the risk?”

I took a small step back.
Stay calm
. I had to keep my head.
Think. Don’t panic.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Come on, now. Don’t play dumb. You know Jax saw me kill Mark.”

Jax had seen it, I was sure, but with my mind shielded from his thoughts by distance,
I was spared the sight. I swallowed hard against the bile that rose in my throat.
I had to think. It was hard to focus. Jax was barking like mad. Angry, panicked barks.
I didn’t have to be linked to his mind to know he wanted to tear Bo apart.

I wanted to give him the chance. If I could get to Bluebell . . . I glanced back.
About fifty feet—it seemed a mile away.

I had to focus.
Think.
“Are you going to kill me, too?”

“I didn’t want to have to. I tried to get rid of Jax without hurting anyone else.”

“You were trying to kill Jax with the antifreeze.” Anger momentarily seared away my
fear.

“I know you won’t believe this, but I ain’t no murderer.”

“Really? What are you?” I edged another step back.

“I didn’t meant to kill Mark. But he made me so angry. I’m just tryin’ to protect
my family.”

“How was killing Mark protecting anyone?”

“Because he was goin’ to write a book. A book!” he said louder, as if I needed to
understand what a book was. “About the family and all the dirty little secrets! It
would have destroyed our father, his career. I couldn’t let him.”

“Your father? You mean Buck Richardson?”

“He’s a great man. He’ll be president one day.” The fanatical pride in his voice chilled
me more than any threat could.

“Not if you do this.” I tried to ease another step backward. “The police know I’m
coming out here. You won’t get away with killing me, too. And then everyone will know.
The controversy will kill Buck’s chances.”

“You think I’m stupid? I’m not gonna kill you. You’re gonna get in an accident.”

He saw my gaze flick to the ax handle.

“That’s right.” He grinned. A wicked, distorted grin. “You catch on quick. A little
bump on the head and you and your truck will end up in the lake.”

“They’ll figure it out
,
”
I said, trying to keep him talking.

Think, Grace! If I could just get to Jax . . .

He chuckled. “They won’t find you. That lake’s an old limestone quarry. A few feet
out it drops off to seventy feet, straight down.” He made a whistling noise. “If they
do find you, by the time they drag you out of there, the critters will’ve eaten you
up. They won’t be able to tell it was more than an accident.”

Thunder cracked and roared as rain began to fall. “You’re wrong. The cops are smart.
They’ll know I was murdered.” I inched back another step, heart hammering in my chest.
Fighting panic, I tried not to think about the fact that I was talking to a murderer.
“They know Burke was murdered.”

“What?” His eyes narrowed. I eased back another step. The hill was becoming slippery.
I tried to think of a way I could use it to my advantage.

“Alexander Burke didn’t commit suicide. He was killed. The cops know. And they know
about Mark’s relationship with Burke.”

Bo’s smile morphed into a sneer. “He should have let Mark be. But he talked Mark into
writing that damn book. About our family! Brothers don’t do that. In this family you
cover for each other. You’ve got each other’s back.”

“So you killed him.”

“You wouldn’t understand.”

“You’re right. I don’t. I’m sure they won’t either.” I pointed to the dirt road.

The bluff worked. Bo turned to see who I was talking about.

I spun and flew down the hill. Immediately, I heard footsteps closing in behind me.
I wasn’t going to make it.

Bo’s hand clamped on my elbow but slipped off. A few more steps and he snaked his
arm around the tops of my shoulders. On instinct, I planted my feet, dropped my weight,
and tried to throw him the way I had practiced with Emma.

Instead of slamming into the ground, he skidded past, and went down on one knee. Which
put him between me and my only escape.

Shit!

I needed a weapon. Too far to try to go back to the barn. Picturing the gun cabinet
and its stockpile of firearms, I sprinted for the cabin.

Careening into the door, I clawed at the handle. Locked. Through the wind and pounding
rain, I could hear Bo crashing through the leaves. No time.

Frantically, I looked around for a weapon or an escape. I caught sight of an access
hole leading under the house. Like a hunted rabbit, I dove for the opening and scrambled
through.

A hand snagged one of my ankles, and I was dragged backward. Spinning onto my back,
I kicked out. My heel connected with a satisfying crunch. Bo bellowed like an enraged
bear.

He brought his hands up to his shattered nose.

Ankle free, I crab-crawled backward farther under the house. My gaze was locked on
the murderer kneeling just outside. Tears and blood streamed down his face. He spit
out a string of curses and stood.

For a moment, I was relieved. Chest heaving, I tried to adjust to the dark of the
dimly lit crawl space. Water ran into my eyes. I wiped it away with the back of my
hand. There was only about two feet of space between the earth and the cabin. Not
enough room for Bo to wield the ax handle. Under the house, we were on a more even
playing field. Still, I felt trapped.

I’ve got to get out of here.
Scanning the outer walls, I saw a shaft of light coming from another opening on the
right side of the cabin.