a Touch of TNT (An Everly Gray Adventure) (28 page)

“Since we’re both disturbed by the picture, would you call me after the contract with North Construction has been settled, fill me in on how it went?”

She agreed, then hurried to her next appointment.

I was exhausted after my early morning trip to Calverton, so I settled on the sofa for a short nap. When I woke, evening shadows had pressed the sun below the horizon. Damn, but I hated that I missed several more hours of the day than I’d intended.

Adam hadn’t called to fill me in on Shauna’s cause of death, so I’d have to work from a different angle. Applegate and Marcy. Their unlikely relationship tugged at my curiosity and I Googled her address.

Blaine, Marcy. Yep. There it was. Just over by the fairgrounds. Not all that far away. I looked at the clock, back at the address. I could grab fast-food for dinner, do a drive-by, and maybe some casual surveillance work.

No one would ever know.

I peeked out the window to see if Sean’s truck was in Annie’s driveway. No point in asking for trouble. Yes! I took time for an abbreviated happy dance, pulled my kitchen door closed and double-timed it downstairs to the Prius. I drove through Chick-fil-A for a Diet Coke (they have fresh lemon wedges), and a sandwich, then parked down the block from Marcy’s house to keep watch.

No lights were on.

And it was way too quiet.

Maybe…no, I definitely should not get out and walk around.

Then again, since Adam couldn’t assign an officer to watch her,
someone
should check things out.

I stewed about it for a few minutes, my mind bouncing between reconnoitering and keeping my ass out of trouble.

It was an easy bet which option won.

I took a fortifying swallow of soda and tucked my drink in the cup holder. I pictured how Pierce moves, and did my best to mimic his body language as I slid out of the car and ever-so-gently closed the door. A smile caught my lips. I’d barely made a sound. Okay, so not quite up to Tynan Pierce standards, but I was learning.

I strolled down the street away from Marcy’s, cut to a side street, and circled around to the back of her house—all the while praying no dogs were out. Dogs were the worst when you were trying to be stealthy.

I moved slowly, counting houses until I could see into Marcy’s backyard.

Still no lights. Still no one around. I leaned against a tree, blending into the branches so no one would notice me unless they were really looking.

It took all of ten minutes before my fingers started to twitch with the need to touch something.

I continued around the block, keeping my eye on Marcy’s property as I went. Nothing seemed out of place, yet prickly-neck-syndrome had my nape in full twitch.

Not good.

A soft thud sounded behind me.

I clenched my teeth to keep from turning around.

There it was again.

Not a footstep.

Something else. A shiver crept along my skin and settled at the base of my spine.

I kept moving, sauntering toward my car, and when it came into view, I tugged the fob out of my pocket and clicked the door unlocked. I slid behind the wheel, and checked out the street as I started to pull the door shut.

“Woof.” A wriggly little body looked up at me with the biggest black eyes I’d ever seen.

My breath whooshed out. This dust mop of a dog was what scared the crap out of me? I trailed my fingers toward him, offering him an opportunity to sniff my hand. “Hey, little guy. Where’d you come from?” I ran my fingers through his curly, gray fur. Images of Marcy flashed on my internal monitor.

I jerked my hand back. What were the chances?

“Woof.”

I threaded my fingers through his fur. The images were definitely of Marcy. Nothing strange, just normal pet owner stuff—feeding, petting, brushing.

I shot a look at her house. Dark.

I searched for a collar. Yep, there it was. I picked the little guy up, pulled the tag free from his fur, and read the information. “So—” I held him at eye level— “says here your name is Merlin. What do you think of that?”

He stretched to lick my face. Unsuccessfully. I tucked him against my chest. Truth be known, I wasn’t good with dogs. Never had one as a kid. Never wanted one. Although Merlin was pretty cute, and he felt warm and cuddly snuggled against me.

“How’d you get out here?” I stepped out of the car and set him on the ground.

“Woof.” He butted his head against me, then jumped to rest his front paws on my leg.

Being a sucker for big, black eyes, I picked him up again. He nuzzled against my neck and tickled me with a few licks. “You’re about as big as a minute,” I said, scratching his ears. “And you have about as much fur as I do hair.”

What the hell was I supposed to do with a dog? Technically, I wasn’t even here. Damn, why did these things always happen to me? I set Merlin down, slung my bag over my shoulder, and closed and locked my car door. Somehow I had to get him safely back to Marcy. Without her finding out.

Merlin jumped up again brushing my legs with his front paws, gave my toes a lick, then took off across the street. I followed, hoping I could let him in a back gate and that would be the end of it. He kept looking over his shoulder to see if I was following, then ran ahead, back toward me, then ahead. Obviously this was a game, and I wasn’t playing my part very well.

He led me between the neighbor’s houses a few doors down. Everything remained quiet. Just goes to show—miracles sometimes happen. Merlin scampered along the edges of the yards, most of them with hedges I could use as cover if someone showed up. Merlin headed straight for Marcy’s back door. I lagged behind, concerned she’d show up to call him in, and I’d be left hanging in the breeze with no recourse but a guilty expression.

I kept a watchful eye on her back door as Merlin bounded up the steps, skidded to a stop, and plopped his fanny, tail still wagging, on the stoop.

“Woof.”

His tongue lolled in a big doggy grin. I made a few shooing motions, hoping he’d get the hint and scratch the door, or whatever he usually did to gain entrance to his abode.

I scanned the backyard for a doghouse. Nothing. There were some landscaped areas, but no place for Merlin—not even dishes for food or water were on the porch. What was she thinking leaving him like this?

He left the porch at a full run, covered the expanse of the backyard in milliseconds and jumped into my arms. I stumbled with the force of his landing. Good thing he only weighed a few pounds or we’d both be rolling on the ground. I scratched his ears, then set him down with a firm pat on the rump. “Go home, Merlin. Scoot now.”

He ran back across the yard, took the steps at breakneck speed, and skidded to a stop in front of the back door.

And then he nosed it open and disappeared inside.

Nosed it open.

Marcy’s back door hadn’t been closed. Strange.

Probably because she’d let the dog out.

Not my problem. Merlin was safely where he belonged and no one was the wiser about my minor trespass across several neighbors’ yards. As I turned to leave, Merlin’s little black nose poked out the door, pushing it open several more inches as he wiggled through. He headed straight for me.

It was all I could do to keep from running. For sure he’d chase me, and Marcy would have me arrested on dognapping charges. I held my ground. He stopped halfway across the yard, then turned and ran back, pushed his way inside.

This was beyond odd. But I needed to get out of the neighborhood, or at least back to my car. Where the hell was Marcy? Surely she knew her dog was loose, and her back door was open.

I scanned the exterior of Marcy’s house for a motion sensor light. All I needed was to be caught in a spotlight—trespassing. Adam would never let me forget it. Especially if I messed up his case. Okay. That got me moving. I made tracks for my car, sticking to the shadows as much as I could while traveling at warp speed.

When I got to the sidewalk, I slowed to a normal pace, but didn’t click my car door unlocked. I didn’t want my headlights to flash. No point pushing my luck since I’d already hung around Marcy’s neighborhood way too long.

Right on cue. Just as I slid my key into the lock, Merlin bounded up next to me.

Headlights flashed onto Marcy’s street. An engine roared and panic screamed through me.

I scooped Merlin out of the path of the oncoming vehicle, and jumped into my car, slamming the door.

“Woof.”

“Hush,” I whispered as I hunkered down behind the steering wheel, hoping to become invisible. The car came abreast of us, slowed, then passed by.

“That was close,” I said, ruffling his fur as I checked the license plate in my rearview mirror. It was clearly visible—but useless since I don’t read mirror.

“Okay Merlin, what now?”

Marcy’s house was still dark. No car in the driveway. Didn’t mean she wasn’t home.

My body was doing a twitchy dance. Only one thing I could do—carry Merlin to the front door, ring the bell, and ask if he belonged to whoever answered. If it was Marcy, I’d act surprised. This was way beyond my limited knowledge of how to run a covert operation.

I tucked Merlin under my arm, strolled to the front door, and rang the bell. I didn’t start shaking until I took my knuckle off the button. I never, ever ring a doorbell with my fingertip. No telling who might have touched it last.

No answer.

Puppy licks covered my trembling fingers.

I rang again, then pressed my nose to the closest window and cupped my hand around my face to shield my line of vision from the streetlight glare. Couldn’t see anything. Okay, so maybe she wasn’t home. I could go to the neighbor’s or I could walk around back and—whatever. I headed for the back door, leaving my common sense on the front porch.

The closer we got, the harder Merlin struggled to get down. “Hold on, little guy. We’re almost there,” I crooned, not sure if my words were meant to comfort him or me.

I rapped on the door. “Hello. Anybody home?” I called as Merlin gave one final twist and jumped to the ground. He bounded inside, pushing the door open wide enough for me to get a clear view of…what used to be the kitchen.

TWENTY-ONE

I dug my phone out of my
back pocket and punched speed dial for Adam. He answered on the first ring. “Yeah. Stone.”

“It’s El. I’m at Marcy Blaine’s house—”

“What the—” he snapped.

“Hold the lecture until later. There’s been a break-in.” I glanced around frantically. No sign of Marcy.

“Things are torn apart, Adam. Merlin is loose. There’s been damage.” I wasn’t coherent, but couldn’t seem to stop the flow of information.

“Who the hell is Merlin?”

“Marcy’s dog. Cute as—”

“Hang on.” The phone clattered in my ear. Sounded like he’d dropped it on his desk. I could hear him against the background noise of the cop shop, snapping out Marcy’s address. Guess he had it at the ready. Definitely a good sign.

He came back on the line. “Where exactly are you, El?” he asked. Voice flat. All cop. I’d never heard him sound like that, and a chill passed through my body.

“At Marcy’s back door.” I bent to scoop Merlin away from my Jimmy Choos. Licking my toes was one thing—the shoes, definitely not okay.

“I haven’t gone in the house. Should I? Do you want me to see if she’s…here?”

“No. Go to your car and stay there. Lock the doors and do not move.”

He didn’t have to tell me twice. “On my way,” I said to the dial tone. I gave the room a final inspection, then balanced my over-sized handbag across one shoulder, a squirming Merlin under my other arm, and headed back to my car. Graceful it was not.

I opened the car door, scooted Merlin across the console to the passenger side, slid in behind him, and slammed my finger against the lock button. It was a full fifteen minutes before the first black and white showed up, another five before a detective joined the officers. I knew he was a detective because of the suit. What sane man would willingly wear a suit? In North Carolina? In July? Only those of questionable sanity. And then there was me. Just the person to be questioning other people’s sanity.

While they checked out the crime scene, I slurped down an entire bottle of water, except for what I poured into the cup holder for Merlin, and kept my eyes on Marcy’s house. Nothing changed. No lights went on. Nothing moved.

Someone knocked on my window. Adrenaline rush. Heart pounding out of chest. Then I noticed the uniform. Deep breath. He looked about sixteen with sandy blond hair and blue eyes framed with the longest lashes I’d ever seen. Bet the bullpen razzed him about that. I cracked my window, not wanting to give Merlin enough space to jump out.

“Everly Gray?” he asked, pulling out his cell, punching in some numbers. “I’m Officer Cavanaugh.”

I nodded and wrapped Merlin in my arms. “And this is Merlin.” I sank my fingers into his fur and rubbed his ears.

“Yes, sir. I have her,” he said into the phone. “And a canine. Yes, sir.”

The color drained from his face, and his freckles blossomed into stark relief.